"There are many more bystanders than there are bullies and victims" -- Jerry Misik

I'm not often moved to write about a TV show, but last week's episode of reality television's "Granddaddy of Them All," Survivor, did just that.

Cutting right to the chase, two "tribes" were marooned on an island in the sultry South Pacific. On one tribe was a "student" of the game and lifelong fan, Cochran, a weak and pale nerd with minimal social skills. If guys like Cochrane are not immediately befriended by a more dominant and socially-savvy player, they are usually grist for the mill and are sent packing quickly.

Somehow, in a way reminiscent of Gomer Pyle (if Gomer were an East Coast nerd who attended Harvard), every goof-up turned to gold for Cochran and he's still alive and kicking in the game.

This didn't stop his "tribe mates" from mocking and verbally abusing him virtually 'round the clock. They were as cruel and insensitive to him as a group as any "tribe" I've seen.

In a bold and courageous move—and courage was not something that the abused Cochrane was accused of possessing much of—he blindsided them all (after beau coup ansgst), joined up with the competing "tribe," and is in the process of winnowing away the creeps who'd been so abusive to him in a display that has to be admired by anyone who's ever been bullied, ostracized, or made to feel inadequate by a clique.

What's instructive here is the reaction of both Cochran and the abusers to his courage.

Children who are abused feel guilty about the abuse, internalizing it and keeping it secret because they have had it ingrained in them that it is the their own—the victim's—fault.

Cochran was tormented by guilt about changing his allegiance to a "tribe" where he seems to be accepted for who he is, and not abused because of what he is not. He need not have felt that way, but it is common among children who've suffered abuse.

Even more interesting—and distressing—was the way the abusive "tribe mates" responded: Anger and unprecedentedly vile maliciousness, followed by explanations about how well they all had actually treated and cared for Cochran, and what an uncaring ingrate he was!

One cowardly guy, enjoying the protection of the crowd, repeatedly swore at Cochran and called him a "coward" (ironically for having the courage to stand up for himself and end the abuse) and one vile woman told him [above, right] in a disgusting display of horrific vituperation, "You disgust me!"

As is so common among the abusive, when called out about their behavior, they blamed everyone but themselves.

Survivor is a game played for $1,000,000, but at times it seems much more than a game. This season we have been privy to abusive behavior usually done secretively by parents, domestic partners, in the locker room, or at the bus stop—where the prying eyes of those who might offer help can't see it.

It's been fascinating, just as a TV series based on the ultimate book on bullying, Lord of the Flies, should be. But at the same time it's also nauseating and terribly frightening…