A few weeks ago a client asked me if I’d ever watched “The Apprentice”.
I hadn’t. (For those of you in the same boat, it’s a TV “reality” show where contestants compete to keep from getting fired; the winner is hired by Donald Trump at the end of the season.)
My client told me that, given the professional development work I do, I would probably find the show enlightening.
I did—so enlightening that I had to write this column in order to come to peace with my reaction to it.
Whoever we’re having trouble with at the office is right there on the screen, doing all the things that drive us crazy. And the best part is that on the show there’s someone who will say to them all the things we wish we could say, that they’re stupid, incompetent, selfish, obnoxious, a bleeping this or that. And then, with any luck, they’ll be fired, with a dramatic flourish.
Watching “The Apprentice” reminds me of something my grandmother used to say: “Everyone’s good for something, if only a bad example.”
The supposedly “professional” behavior depicted on the show makes me cringe, and I’m not alone—colleagues I’ve spoken to about it agree. The conduct of the the contestants is more appropriate for a dorm room than a board room.
SUCCESS BY ASSOCIATION
Before the first suitcase comes rolling off the elevator, it’s clear that the driving force behind the contestants’ quest is mirrored perfectly by the theme song: “Money, Money, Money.”
In the fantasy business world of “The Apprentice”, success is achievable by association. The American tradition of self-made men and women has been replaced by the idea that “making it big” means being in proximity to someone who has—and owns the towers to prove it.
This helps me understand what happened last year when I made a presentation at a career event at a vocational high school.
I asked the students about their goals for the future, and their answers were unconnected to anything specific or tangible, such as living independently, traveling, buying a house, starting a business, etc. They knew with complete certainty they wanted to “make a lot of money”, but they seemed confused when I asked them, “for what”—as if anyone ought to know that money is the key that opens every door.
I suspect that the contestants on “The Apprentice” see things pretty much the same way. They want money because it opens doors—for winners only, of course—to posh places and expensive prizes they “ooh” and “aah” over in way that reminds me of “The Price is Right”. It’s a measure of success that fits neatly with the show’s cross-marketing objectives.
Their willingness to limit their professional goals to the “prize” of hobnobbing with Donald Trump shows just how invasive the “Money, Money, Money” message has become. It astonishes me that it doesn’t seem to matter to them whether an open door leads to work that is personally fulfilling, only that it brings fame and fortune.
I have been a career professional long enough to know that big money doesn’t guarantee professional satisfaction; and frequently sabotages it.
I know, it’s only a TV show, but there are real consequences of this way of thinking, both for individuals and the world. Craving money for its own leads people to do things like defrauding employees and investors to buy $6000 shower curtains.
DYSFUNCTION SELLS
In this world of instant and ceaseless communications, the creation of “buzz”, i.e., getting people talking about something, is a powerful marketing tool.
“The Apprentice” has managed to create a buzz strong enough to pull in even someone like me, who rarely watches anything but PBS.
As the client who “buzzed” me about it in the beginning commented, “It’s a water cooler show.”
What she meant by that is that it gives people something—in this case, someone—to talk about at work the next day:
- “Angie should have been the one to be fired—she’s such a bitch.”
- “She’s not half as bad as that jackass know-it-all, Michael.”
- “Doesn’t Tara remind you of someone you know, someone who works here?”
Whoever we’re having trouble with at the office is right there on the screen, doing all the things that drive us crazy. And the best part is that on the show there’s someone who will say to them all the things we wish we could say, that they’re stupid, incompetent, selfish, obnoxious, a bleeping this or that. And then, with any luck, they’ll be fired, with a dramatic flourish.
We don’t think about the fact that the person we’re having trouble with is probably sitting in front of the television trashing us, just as the team members on ”The Apprentice“ trash each other.
“The Apprentice” feeds our addictive craving for negativity, the sugar and carbs of professional dysfunction. Indulging in such “treats” makes us feel superior and gives us a false sense of well-being.
Watching this show without being drawn into self-righteous judgments about the contestants is about as easy as saying no to a hand-dipped mocha truffle when you love chocolate. The business acumen that is supposedly being evaluated is really a wrapper around the thing that we really want to sink our teeth into—vicarious blame.
ILLUSION AND AVOIDANCE
“The Apprentice” is based on the illusion that success comes from the outside—from hobnobbing with the Trumps, the Forbes, and others like them—rather than finding your true place in the business world.
It also promotes avoidance, the habit of focusing on what we think is wrong with others rather than doing the real work of improving our professional relationships by looking at our part in making them what they are.
Until we move beyond the fantasy of the big prize behind a door with someone else’s name on it, and do the work of communicating directly, openly and honestly with our real life co-workers, we will continue to risk turning this one hour a week caricature into a forty hour a week realty.