Trump: How to Get Rich

Prime Time

Over the past few years, since reality shows came into vogue, television networks have been trying to get me to do one. They approached me with offers for substantial amounts of money, but the concept was always predictable. They wanted to follow me around with cameras, watching me make deals, brush my teeth, and, most certainly, comb my hair. None of this appealed to me at all.

One day, I was approached by the head of CBS Entertainment, Les Moonves, who wanted to broadcast the live finale of the hit series Survivor from Wollman Rink in Central Park, which I control through a long-term lease. It sounded like a great idea to me, especially when they told me they were going to build a jungle to replicate the one in which the Survivor contestants had been living.

When I arrived at Wollman Rink that night, I was amazed to see what they had been able to do. They had transformed a city skating rink into an exotic wildlife scene. As I was heading toward my seat, an attractive young man approached me and said, Hi, Mr. Trump, I’m Mark Burnett and I’m the creator of Survivor.

I said, Mark, you don’t have to tell me that. Everybody knows who you are, but it’s really nice to meet you.

He said, You know, Mr. Trump, I have an idea and I’d love to see you at your earliest possible convenience.

A week later, he came to my office. Before he got to his formal presentation, he did what any smart entrepreneur would do: He made sure he established a connection with me.

He did this by telling me that I’m a genius. Some people may consider such flattery excessive, but when you’re on the receiving end, it’s usually okay.

In the most passionate terms, he told me how, fifteen years ago, when he was selling shirts on Venice Beach and barely making a living, he had read a copy of The Art of the Deal. He said it had changed his life.

If that’s so, I said, why haven’t you given me twenty percent?

He laughed heartily. I knew he was setting the table, but he was setting it brilliantly. I was impressed.

Then he told me his idea for The Apprentice—a series set in the jungle of New York City, the toughest jungle of them all, where people tear each other apart just to get an inch ahead of the competition.

His idea was terrific: Have sixteen people compete in a televised thirteen-week job interview, where the winner gets to become my apprentice. Whoever won would get a six-figure job at The Trump Organization for one year—maybe longer, if he or she was worth it.

What appealed to me most was that the premise of The Apprentice would be educational to viewers. People would be able to see how the real business world works and what it takes to survive in it—or to even have a chance to survive in it.

I asked Mark what kind of a time commitment he would need from me.

Mark’s words, which I will never forget and will always remind him of, were: Donald, believe me, the most time we would need is three hours a week.

I can affectionately say that I was a real schmuck for believing that line.

The first few episodes took about thirty hours each. But it turned out I didn’t mind. As time went by, I started to realize that this show could be really big, and I wanted to devote the kind of time to it that Mark needed me to give.

When we pitched the project to the top networks for bids, everyone wanted it. They loved the concept. We chose NBC, which also broadcasts my Miss Universe, Miss USA, and Miss Teen USA pageants, so it was a quick and easy deal. Neither side had to be convinced of anything, and from the very first meeting, the relationship has been a strong one. Bob Wright, the chairman of NBC, and Jeff Zucker, president of NBC Entertainment, are the best in the business. They worked hard to promote the show and were rewarded with rave reviews and the best ratings of any new show of the season. I know this sounds like typical showbiz hype, but it’s all true.

Once I got used to the time commitment, working on the show came naturally, because, in effect, what I do on The Apprentice is what I do in life: I hire people. I fire people. I make things work.

One of my favorite aspects of the show are the dramatic entrances and exits I get to make—from limousines and planes, or into the boardroom. It’s good to be the CEO, and it’s even better to be the CEO on national TV. It was also great to enlist the services of special guest stars such as George Steinbrenner and Donny Deutsch, the best advertising man in the business, as well as Regis, of course.

When we announced the show to the media in one of the most publicized job listings in recent memory, the reaction was instant and huge. In the first week, we received over 86,000 website hits. Over 70,000 applications were downloaded—the first one from Hamburg, Germany. The tally reached 215,000 before we finally stopped counting. This might have been the biggest job application in history.

Fortunately, Mark and his team knew what they were doing. After reviewing the twelve-page applications and videotapes required of prospective contestants, ten casting directors and five assistant casting directors studide the materials further, narrowing the field to those deemed strong possibilities.

The Apprentice auditions in August 2003. I’m greeting these brave people in front of Trump Tower.

Their screening process was comprehensive and thorough. In the spirit of fairness, open calls were held in ten major U.S. cities. Tens of thousands of people showed up. In New York City, at Trump Tower, those thousands stood in the pouring rain for hours just to get a few moments of consideration. Obviously, most of them didn’t make it, but they’ve got what it takes to succeed because they’ve got the guts to go for it.

Seeing their enthusiasm really revved me up for the show. It also bowled me over. I thought to myself,All these people want to work for

me? It was incredibly flattering. Then again, I doubt those people knew what they might have been getting themselves into. I heard through the grapevine at my office, on one particularly rough day, that the name for The Apprentice competitors who didn’t win spots on the show was The Lucky Fifteen.

There were some amusing moments before we began taping. Mark Burnett brought his adoring father, Archibald, to visit one day. After meeting me, he said, You’re much more handsome in person than I would have thought. Maybe you don’t photograph so well. Good luck with the show. Mark quickly interjected that his father was from Scotland and tended to be on the blunt side. I think he’s terrific.

Mark is a lot of fun to be around—the British equivalent of a Green Beret. He has no fear and tremendous positive energy, which is my idea of a great leader. We’re both big Neil Young fans, so one night, I took him to a concert at the Taj Majal in Atlantic City and introduced him to Neil backstage. Then we went to Naomi Campbell’s party in New York City.

I always made a point of mentioning Survivor when I introduced Mark to people, but later I realized I was getting some confused looks when I did it, particularly from a Chinese poker winner we met at the Taj Majal. It took me a moment to figure out that Survivor probably isn’t on TV in China. The poker winner thought Mark was a cancer survivor and didn’t know what to say.

When the crew of the show first appeared at Trump Tower, they created a bit of a buzz. Our ordinary routine was altered by just their presence. It was unusual to see all of those cameras. But within a couple of weeks, it became part of the routine. Jay Bienstock and Kevin Harris, two of Mark Burnett’s producers, became fixtures of our organization. Then NBC executive Jim Dowd became a regular. If anything, it was when they weren’t around that it seemed like something was amiss. They were never an imposition, and we even missed them when taping was over.

Unlike a scripted movie or TV show,The Apprentice that you have seen on NBC is pretty much the way it was behind the scenes. That’s the idea—behind the scenes is in front of your eyes. Right away, I can hear you saying, But we heard the boardroom was a set, and not your boardroom at all. That’s true, but the only reason we built another boardroom was because my own boardroom at The Trump Organization is in constant use, and having a film crew in it every week for several months would have disrupted my business. So we built a replica on the fourth floor of Trump Tower. The reception area was also built there because the comings and goings of the sixteen apprentices and a TV production crew would have been a disturbance to our employees and our guests, some of whom may not have been expecting a close-up.

The set was built in Trump Tower so I could take an elevator and be there in fewer than two minutes. My regular business schedule is hectic, so traveling to and from an off-site location could have caused problems. Using the space we had on-site proved to be a good decision.

The living quarters for the sixteen applicants were also built on the fourth floor, and the equipment necessary for filming was installed there. It was an amazing setup, with sound rooms, tech rooms, lights, cameras, and what seemed like miles of cables. When I first saw it all, I realized the immensity of the preparations that went into this show, with designers, decorators, technicians, assistants, producers, and directors all working like mad. At any point, there could be twenty-eight cameras going at once. This was a big operation.

One day after seeing this, I paused silently for a moment. What if the show was a flop? All this work, all this energy… well, it just had to work. And I was determined to do my best to make it a hit.

The reassuring thing was that I didn’t have to act. That gave me some comfort. Mark Burnett told me that my value to the show would be in just being myself. Is there such a thing as acting like yourself? I don’t know, but I try not to think about it. I’m just myself.

I didn’t have to read any scripts or learn any lines. Despite having a great memory, I don’t have time for that, anyway. Mark would appriise me of the assignments for the applicants each week and we’d go from there. I enjoyed the spontaneity of the process, because we don’t rehearse episodes in our daily business life. What happens, happens.

What went on in the boardroom or anywhere else was not fabricated in any way. If it seemed dramatic, that’s because business is dramatic. There’s nothing boring about it. There’s nothing passive about it, either—even for viewer.

Seeing the eagerness and anticipation of the sixteen winning applicants was a rush in itself. I never used the word contestants in describing them, because this was not a game. People who think their jobs are a game aren’t people I want to have around. A lot of these people already had lucrative positions or businesses of their own, so they weren’t in it merely for some prize money. We made sure they were all serious about learning something not only after the process but during it. This also ensured that each applicant would be a winner, no matter what the outcome of their quest turned out to be. How many other reality shows have you seen that has only winners? That was another reason The Apprentice was so appealing to me. There would be no losers in this win-win situation. My kind of show.

I know what you’re thinking.But you fired fifteen people! Yeah, but look what they got to do. Look what they got to see. Look what they learned.

All of the tasks required of my would-be apprentices required negotiation skills of one type or another. I was particularly interested in the way the applicants approached the task of achieving maximum savings from a list of items we told them to buy. Items ranged in value from $10 to $550. The highest-ticket item thatd could be discounted was a luxury golf club, a Callaway driver. The winning team homed in on this item. The losers spent their time trying to buy gold, a relatively fixed-price commodity. The winning team learned an essential lesson in negotiation and business: If you win on the big point, you don’t sweat the minor ones.

The sixteen applicants quickly became people I liked and cared about—in the way a boss cares about his employees. They were all dynamic individuals with a lot on the ball. It wasn’t easy to fire any of them.

Heidi Bressler, 30, an account executive from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Heidi is strong, and she kept her objectives in focus in her dealings. She used her account executive background to her advantage in keeping herself balanced.

Jason Curis, 24, a real estate entrepreneur from Detroit, Michigan. Jason has a lot on the ball, but he’s young and a little rash. For those of you who missed the episode, Jason cut me off, in mid-sentence, in the boardroom. You never interrupt the boss in a meeting. You never interrupt the client in a meeting, either. But he will continue to learn and achieve.

Katrina Campins, 24, a real estate broker from Coral Gables, Florida. Katrina is very accomplished already as a broker, which is a different scenario from that of being the president of a company. I think she will continue to prove herself in her field, possibly becoming an entrepreneur. She will be a success in life.

David Gould, 31, a health care venture capitalist from New York City. David has an exceptional educational background, with both an MBA and an MD, but business is not yet his forte. He surprised me in the first episode when he said salesmanship was not one of his skills. Why volunteer any deficiency? He was the first to be fired.

Jessie Conners, 21, owner of a chiropractic marketing and management company from New Richmond, Wisconsin. Jessie was an interesting mixture of sophistication and innocence. She competed like an experienced player, then did herself in by taking unnecessary abuse from a colleague. You’ve got to fight back if you want to be successful in business. But don’t underestimate her.

Bowie Hogg, 25, an account executive at FedEx, from Dallas, Texas. Bowie has great determination, but when it came to selling, he fell short. He learned a lot, and I’m confident he’ll be successful in his career.

Kristi Frank, 30, a real estate broker and restaurant owner from Bel Air, California. Kristi knows a lot about the real world in many ways, due to her business experience, but her failure to stand up for herself showed a lack of one hundred percent focus on her immediate goal. She will do well for herself if she focuses more.

Kwame Jackson, 29, a Harvard MBA and investment manager at Goldman Sachs, from New York City. He is smooth and collected, and will do what is necessary to succeed. Kwame raised some eyebrows when he signed basketballs at Planet Hollywood, implicitly suggesting to customers that he was famous. Was it unethical? When you’re desperate, you sometimes have to push the envelope. Kwame was on a desperately failing team. His judgment wasn’t admirable, but I don’t think he crossed the line: He was supporting his team members.

Amy Henry, 30, a manager at a high-tech start-up in Austin, Texas, who owned millions of dollars in options and lost it all in the dot-com bust. Amy is extremely bright and has great spirit, team and otherwise. I don’t think much can get her down, and she will excel.

Troy McClain, 32, a mortgage lender in the insurance business and a real estate developer, from Boise, Idaho. Troy is optimistic and realistic at the same time. It’s a great combination, and I expect him to do big things. Plus it takes a brave man to have his legs waxed. That showed me how much he really wanted the job.

Tammy Lee, 36, a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch in Seattle, Washington. Tammy’s experience gives her a realistic view of the world. She watches out for herself and keeps her goals clear. Her strength is one of her greatest attributes, and it will help her throughout her career.

Bill Rancic, 32, founder of cigarsaroundtheworld.com, which he started from his studio apartment in Chicago, Illinois, and turned into a multimillion-dollar business. Bill is a good guy with a great future and has already proven his entrepreneurial skills. He’s a careful thinker, serious about his endeavors, and a good bet to achieve the results he seeks.

Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth, 29, a political consultant from Washington, D.C., who worked in the Clinton-Gore administration. Like Madonna, she needs only a first name. Omarosa is the most articulate of the group. She’s got a lot of fight in her and self-confidence that will serve her well. If she’d been working on Gore’s presidential campaign, he would have won.

Sam Solovey, 27, cofounder of an Internet media company, from Chevy Chase, Maryland. He lasted only until the third episode, but even that seemed like an eternity to some viewers. Sam was the smartest annoying character on TV since Howard Cosell. He is likely to either take a company down in flames or create an IBM. I think he’s got a lot of talent, and as long as he learns how to use it correctly he will do great things. I can’t believe he proposed marriage on TV. His future wife looks great, but he forgot to ask for the prenup, and I hope he won’t ever need one.

Ereka Vitrini, 27, a global marketing manager for Clinique, who learned her business skills working in her family’s pizzeria in New York City. Ereka has terrific spirit and a good amount of fortitude. She’s not afraid to voice her opinions, and that’s crucial.

Nick Warnock, 27, a salesman for Xerox who launched an Italian ice business in Bayonne, New Jersey, and now lives in Los Angeles. Nick is a savvy guy who tries to cover his bases. He is industrious but needs to focus on exactly what is going on around him. His tenacity will see him through.

They were all great, even Sam. What I found interesting was the shifting dynamic of the group and their interplay, with its changing patterns and alliances. That’s the way business teams function.

As everyone saw, the women dominated the men at first, and it made some people wonder whether women are superior at business. I believe we’re all equal, except in one respect: Women still have to try harder, and they know it. They will do what they have to do to get the job done and will not necessarily be demure about it.

A lot of people were surprised when I decided to lecture the women about the way they were using their sex appeal. They used it successfully at first, but I knew that would not always be the case. It works, and then it doesn’t, and I didn’t want them to fall into a trap.

All the women on The Apprentice flirted with me—consciously or unconsciously. That’s to be expected. A sexual dynamic is always pres-ent between people, unless you are asexual.

As a result of The Apprentice, several of my esteemed colleagues at The Trump Organization have become TV stars. I was joined in the boardroom every week by George Ross and Carolyn Kepcher. They did for The Apprentice what they do for me every day—pay attention to the details, see the big picture, and give me excellent advice. When I told them I wanted them to appear on the show with me, unscripted and unrehearsed, they approached it just like any other job assignment, with thorough professionalism and astute attention, and they came across as authentic because of that.

At Planet Hollywood in Times Square with George Ross and Carolyn Kepcher.

I chose Carolyn, an executive vice president and the director of one of my largest properties, because she’s shown a lot of smarts over the years. George, an executive vice president and senior counsel, is a shrewd, tough guy with brains—he doesn’t put up with nonsense from anyone.

My executive assistants Rhona Graff and Robin Himmler are also featured regularly, and even though they have high-stress jobs, I think you’ll agree they look anything but stressed on TV. My executives Allen Weisselberg, Charlie Reiss, Norma Foerderer, and Tom Downing also made appearances, and Bernie Diamond appears four times. Whenever I make a big hiring decision, these people are involved, so it was only natural for me to include them in choosing the apprentice.

The only person I had to coax into appearing was my vice president and personal assistant, Norma Foerderer. She prefers being the power behind the throne and didn’t want to be in the limelight, but I finally convinced her.

I’ve been asked how much the success of The Apprentice will mean to my business. My pay per episode, while substantial, does not, for me, mean very much. It is nowhere near what the stars of Friends rake in. The real value is in the free advertising and publicity The Trump Organization has been receiving. I can’t put a monetary value on that. Before The Apprentice, the use of my name on a building was worth untold millions of dollars. That value sure has not gone down. I’m told that The Apprentice is the highest-rated show featuring a nonacting businessman in the history of television. When TV viewers think of business in America, a lot of them are going to be thinking about The Trump Organization.

We’re already at work on the second season, to premiere in the fall of 2004. For those of you interested in applying and winning, here are the four essential qualities I’m looking for in an apprentice:

1. An outstanding personality.Someone who makes everyone feel comfortable. No matter what you’re doing in business—selling, buying, negotiating, analyzing, or managing—this may be the most essential trait. You’ve got to be able to connect with the people you encounter, every hour, every day.

2. Brains.Not book brains alone, but street smarts as well. That combination, properly used, is a winner.

3. Creativity.The ability to see beyond the obvious, to think unpredictably and imaginatively, to make connections others might not envision. This is perhaps the hardest quality to develop—you’ve either got it or you don’t. But you can be creative in different ways. Jeff Zucker is a creative TV executive. Derek Jeter is a creative shortstop. If they switched jobs, they might not be as creative in their various fields.

4. Loyalty and trust.Absolutely required traits. Unlike creativity and brains, any person can possess these qualities, so if you lack them, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Let’s suppose, out of the hundreds of thousands of applicants, you’re selected. Let’s suppose you actually win. You become famous for fifteen minutes (or perhaps more) and bag a $250,000-a-year job at The Trump Organization.