Gen Z Diary: I'm addicted to The Traitors but only as an outsider and this is why

Episode two of the new season of The Traitors Ireland saw the first roundtable of the season take place.

I almost never watch live television. Most of the time, you’ll find me streaming a series or a movie for some background noise while I scroll on my phone. The perfect combination to avoid ever having an actual thought, if you ask me. So, when a TV show gets me to sit down at the same time every night, and take an hour off my regularly scheduled Instagram scrolling, you know it’s something special.

The Traitors Ireland is one of those shows. Maybe it’s the dramatic Slane Castle setting, or the fact I’m screaming at the TV as the wrong person is being accused of being a traitor. But I’m absolutely hooked. Most of all, I enjoy the chaos that ensues when people start to abandon their loyalties, getting wrapped up in the game.

In another life, I’d love to take part. But unfortunately, in this life, I know I wouldn’t make it a week in that castle. That’s not to say I’m not good with conflict. I’ve lived in a student accommodation apartment with eight girls and one fridge. Trust me, I know how to deal with drama. But The Traitors would be different. Here’s why.

For one thing, I’d be so star-struck every time Siobhán McSweeney graced us with her presence, I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d be so busy deciding between asking her for her best Sister Michael impression and asking her about the designer of her outfit, I’d lose track of trying to sniff out the liars in the group.

Then there’s all that running around the grounds of Slane Castle that they have to do. I’m not really into running up and down hills while carrying bits of dolmen on my back, or whatever other sadistic things the producers decide to dream up. It all seems like a lot of work. 

And God help the other contestants if I had to follow instructions on less than eight hours of sleep. They might not accuse me of being a traitor. But I’m sure they’d have plenty of other names for me by the end of that fiasco.

I’m also always astounded by the amount of detective work that takes place over a buffet breakfast. In the presence of a table of pastries, I would have no brain capacity for thinking about who’s got a funny furrow in their brow. No, I would be too busy experiencing the type of gluttony that they speak about in the Bible, stacking croissants onto my plate like I’ve not eaten in weeks.

Jane Cowan would be star-struck in the presence of The Traitors Ireland host Siobhán McSweeney.

People would assume my behaviour is suggestive of guilt or nerves. Really, it would be pure, unbridled enthusiasm for sweet treats. I’m also a lady with certain standards. If those teapots came equipped with anything other than Barry’s, I’d simply pass away.

No cash prize would be enough for me after weeks of scaldy tea.

If I’m being honest, there would also be some prejudice to my traitor accusations. In my mind, every man would be guilty until proven innocent. A guy in his 20s wouldn’t stand a chance. I can picture it. ‘Oh, you promise you’re not a traitor, do you, Daniel? Well, I’ve heard that before. Tell me, when was the last time you were on Tinder… No, it is relevant!’ 

There may be certain accusations of misandry thrown my way at that evening round table. And I wouldn’t have much in the way of defence. Only an admission that poor Daniel kind of reminded me of someone I knew one time.

My facial expressions wouldn’t help my case. Try as I might to lie, I have a face that comes with subtitles. I would cautiously tell someone I’m a barista, then raise my eyebrows and broaden my eyes, as if to ask: ‘Did you believe that?’

Lastly, if my lack of athleticism and single-minded croissant obsession didn’t get me kicked out of the castle, my hamartia would be my pathological need to fill silences in conversation. People thought Edelle drinking water was an admission of guilt before she had even been picked as a traitor. 

At best, a nervous laugh by me during an awkward silence would blow my cover. At worst, I would just tell someone outright I was a traitor, to avoid the few seconds of silence. I’ve shared secrets at too many house parties to believe I would be capable of anything else.

Someone’s got to watch the show. And every time the contestants have to get into the freezing River Boyne this season, I will be grateful to observe.