It’s difficult to imagine Donald Trump launching a credible presidential campaign without the benefits of his former reality television program, which ran for 14 seasons on NBC. The New Yorker published a fascinating new piece on its creation — producer Mark Burnett wanted to effectively create an urban version of “Survivor” set in a corporate environment — and the degree to which the future president was ill-suited for the role.
The show’s creators sought a “heavyweight tycoon” for the feature role and settled on Trump, which meant fooling the audience into taking Trump seriously.
“The Apprentice” portrayed Trump not as a skeezy hustler who huddles with local mobsters but as a plutocrat with impeccable business instincts and unparalleled wealth—a titan who always seemed to be climbing out of helicopters or into limousines. “Most of us knew he was a fake,” [Jonathon Braun, a multi-season editor on the show] told me.
“He had just gone through I don’t know how many bankruptcies. But we made him out to be the most important person in the world. It was like making the court jester the king.” Bill Pruitt, another producer, recalled, “We walked through the offices and saw chipped furniture. We saw a crumbling empire at every turn. Our job was to make it seem otherwise.”
It’s consistent with the series of frauds Trump has relied on throughout his adult life, but just as importantly, the way in which Trump’s reality-TV show functioned seems oddly familiar to those of us who take note of how his White House functions.
The New Yorker piece noted, for example, that on “The Apprentice,” contestants competed in weekly challenges, culminating in a firing at the end of every episode. In practice, Trump was “frequently unprepared” for the dramatic scenes, having little sense of which contestants had excelled and which had faltered during that week’s competition.
Trump, “on a whim,” would occasionally fire the wrong person, forcing editors to “reverse engineer” that week’s episode, scrambling to find footage of that contestant’s missteps, in the hopes of justifying the future president’s misplaced decision. It became necessary to create “an artificial version of history in which Trump’s shoot-from-the-hip decision made sense.”
If this sounds familiar, it should.
One of the show’s former editors told The New Yorker that White House staffers have been forced to learn the art of retroactive narrative construction, just as the staff at “The Apprentice” did. “I find it strangely validating to hear that they’re doing the same thing in the White House,” Jonathon Braun said.
Alas, that’s true. After Trump announced a massive new tax-policy initiative that existed only in his imagination, Republican officials scrambled to reverse engineer a plan to make the president appear less ridiculous. As the Washington Post noted in October, it was a familiar sight.









