Sir Alan Sugar (16 page)

However, the press seemed to scent blood in this project and reacted accordingly, slating it on a regular basis. ‘Amstrad profit hit by [email protected]’, claimed the
Daily
Mail
. ‘Sir Alan Sugar’s Amstrad has sold nearly 5,000 [email protected] a week since it went on general sale early this summer. But the heavily subsidised sales, of 70,000 units so far, come at a heavy cost. They knocked
£
2.3 million off profits in the June year and the costs continue.’

But, in 2002, Sir Alan was still bravely defending the [email protected]. ‘People say I’m nuts, but the [email protected] is as cheap and useful as a phone, before you consider everything else it can do.’

Soon, the picture did indeed appear much brighter.
‘Amstrad back in black as [email protected] sales improve’, announced the
Financial Times
in September 2003 as Amstrad halved the price of the unit.

A spokesman explained the pricing decision: ‘The business model is fine but we need more sales.’ Commercial director Simon Sugar said, ‘The price reduction will be supported by press advertising and
in-store
promotions and we are confident that this will increase sales significantly. We have had nearly three years’ experience of running the [email protected] business and the revenue per phone has held up well.’

Things were indeed far rosier than the media suggested: they sold almost 298,000 units and claimed a million users during the first four years of the [email protected]’s existence. Benefiting from increased subscription revenues and lower production costs, the division turned around from a
£
5.5 million loss to a
£
1 million profit on sales of
£
6.5 million.

However, the media would need a lot of convincing. ‘Jury still out on Sir Alan’s gadget’, said the
Daily
Telegraph
in 2004. The jury may be out, but Sir Alan gave his own verdict. ‘We launched the first [email protected] in the middle of all that Internet bullshit, and when it started to collapse we got dragged down with it. The one thing I learned is that money talks. OK? We are in profit now. That answers all the doubters. We will continue to increase profits. That’s the bottom line. You can talk about all that future technology crap, but we are actually in profit and you can’t argue with the facts.’

However, by the beginning of 2006, the facts showed that the [email protected] was not firing on all cylinders. ‘Sugar’s [email protected] in the firing line as profits fall’, said the
Guardian
in February 2006. The same year, Amserve stopped making the product, as reported in the
Evening
Standard
: ‘Sugar caned as plug pulled on [email protected]’.

The media had been harsh on the product, but by this time Sir Alan had become a major media star himself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE APPRENTICE

N
owadays, Sugar is such a celebrity and so regularly in the public eye that it may surprise some readers to learn that he was not always so fond of the limelight. Underneath his straight-talking demeanour, Sugar has a distinctly shy side. During the 1980s, as his business reputation increased as a result of his impressive computer sales, he became deluged with offers for television appearances, press interviews and public speaking, often more than 40 requests each month. Most were turned down. Among these were the sorts of offers that many public figures dream of: the producers of iconic BBC radio show
Desert Island Discs
, for instance, came knocking on his door. However, he was somewhat more keen on public speaking and his performances there drew widespread praise.

As we saw in the Preface, his direct and charismatic
way with words when speaking in public made him quite a magnetic orator. Perhaps it was during one of these events that it first dawned on him that one day he could become a television star. The only question was what genre of television would suit a man like him. Fortunately, the broadcast world answered that for him.

The 21st century has seen the genre of reality television become hugely popular, and therefore big business. So it was surely going to be only a matter of time before a reality-television show based on big business would be launched following the phenomenal success of the early reality shows such as
Big Brother
.

In 2000, the first
Big Brother
series to be shown in Britain appeared. As the housemates wheeled their suitcases into the soon-to-be-famous house, television in this country changed for ever. Soon, the music world was muscling in on the reality-television genre, with
Popstars
forming a band in front of television viewers’ eyes. With the success of that show, and that of the resultant band Hear’Say, there was soon an even more successful reality music show in the form of
Pop Idol
, followed by Simon Cowell’s new talent shows
The X Factor
and
Britain’s
Got Talent
. Television was ‘keeping it real’, and the viewers were loving it. But could a reality show based on the world of business be a hit?

But, because of the immediate smash-hit status that
The Apprentice
achieved, it is often forgotten that
Dragons’ Den
was, in fact, the first business-based
reality-television show in the UK. The format for this show – which originally came from Japan – is wonderfully simple and effective, as contestants pitch business ideas to a panel of multimillionaire entrepreneurs. They ask for investment in their business idea in return for a share of the equity. The contestants set a figure for the investment and equity, though the latter is nearly always the subject of fierce negotiation, should one or more of the Dragons be interested in making an investment. If they are not interested, the Dragons declare this with an often-thunderously delivered declaration: ‘I’m out!’

The initial five-person panel for
Dragons’
Den
consisted of Simon Woodroffe, Rachel Elnaugh, Doug Richard, Peter Jones and Duncan Bannatyne. The highly charismatic Woodroffe started the Yo! Sushi chain in Britain in 1997, and he has since also become a motivational speaker. Elnaugh founded Red Letter Days, which offered ‘experience’ gifts, including action events and memorable days out. Richard is a UK-based American involved in technology transfer, commercialisation and business incubation. Jones is a British businessman with interests in mobile telecommunications, television, media, leisure and property. Bannatyne is a Scottish entrepreneur whose many business interests include a successful chain of health clubs.

The show was an immediate success, with the ideas pitched to the Dragons varying from the weird to the
wonderful, and the Dragons made for fantastic television. Woodroffe was very much the wild child of the panel, with his snazzy clothes and quirky sideboards. Earlier in his life, he had been on the road with rock acts including Rod Stewart and it showed in his cool manner. Richard was the most outspoken of the original panel, and his bluntness sometimes bordered on the rude, which gave proceedings a real edge. Peter Jones was tall, posh and telegenic. He has since become a very tough talker himself, but back in the early days he was more fair and measured in his response. Bannatyne was amusing, entertaining and wise from the off, and, along with Jones, has since become a fixture of the ever-changing panel. Amid all this testosterone, Elnaugh sometimes seemed a bit out of place and her very involvement was soon to become one of the series’ first controversies and made some wonder whether she really could be considered a true Dragon.

Meanwhile, the ideas were often entertaining in their own right. For the viewer, all this was absolutely gripping television. We cheered on those who we felt deserved investment, and sneered at those whose ideas or pitches – or both! – were terrible. But even those who made the programme admit they have been surprised by how successful the show has become. As presenter Evan Davis said, ‘Few could have predicted just how many interesting characters there are in the business world, or how much drama a televised investment encounter can generate.’

The critics agreed wholeheartedly. Ben Marshall in the
Guardian Guide
wrote, ‘[The show] is a brilliant bit of scheduling. Vast numbers of businesses, mostly unsuccessful, are conceived by people lying among carnival debris with a monstrous hangover. In
Dragons’ Den
, young men and women pitch their ideas to a group of savagely sceptical multimillionaires. It makes for horribly compelling viewing and is particularly painful for anyone who has ever spent time trying to convince a roomful of obscenely rich men to part with their cash.’

The hard-nosed Victor Lewis-Smith, writing in the
Evening Standard
, said, ‘Combining hard-headed commerce and innovative design with
Pop Idol
-style humiliation, it’s provided compelling viewing … as five fairly knowledgeable and highly opinionated multimillionaires have poured scorn and ridicule on inventions that either don’t work or aren’t needed, before occasionally agreeing to put their money where their mouth is.’

The
Western Daily
Press
commented,
‘Dragons’ Den
is a sort of
Pop Idol
for would-be entrepreneurs, except all the judges are Mr Nasty types. Hard-eyed and unsmiling, they put the poor supplicants through the kind of humiliation you used to get when you dared ask the bank manager for a loan to extend the conservatory.’ The review concluded, ‘Move over, Simon Cowell. You have competition.’

The first series was, indeed, peculiarly entertaining. In
subsequent years, those who pitched ideas had had the chance to watch the show, and therefore knew full well what they were letting themselves in for. But, in the first series, the pitchers were very much lambs to the slaughter. As presenter Davis put it, ‘I had always felt rather sorry for those entrepreneurs who came into the Den in the first series – they had never been able to watch the programme and see what they were in for.’

The same can be said of the line-up for the first series of the next business reality show to be launched:
The
Apprentice
. As with all reality shows, in subsequent series those who took part were more savvy as to how the show worked, but those who put themselves up for the first year had only a very vague idea of what was in store for them. Therefore, for them – and the viewer – it was a particularly intriguing and fresh experience. Nobody outside the production team knew exactly what hurdles and tasks were ahead, nor how the whole tone and energy of the process would manifest itself.

However,
The Apprentice
was an entirely new phenomena, as there had already been a successful series of
The Apprentice
in America, broadcast on the NBC channel in the winter of 2004. Billed as ‘The Ultimate Job Interview’ in the ‘Ultimate Jungle’, the show pitched businesspeople against one another in an
elimination-style
competition for a one-year $250,000 starting contract, running one of the companies owned by US billionaire Donald Trump. Trump has made much of his
fortune through property development and casino ownership and his name is synonymous with the rough and tumble of business success. He’s a very charismatic and ebullient figure – perfect for a show such as
The Apprentice
. ‘I’m not a big fan of the handshake,’ he told US TV channel NBC. ‘I think it’s barbaric, shaking hands, you catch colds, you catch the flu, you catch this, you catch all sorts of things.’ With the outspoken and flamboyant way he had about him, the man they call The Donald makes for magnetic television, as viewers of the original
Apprentice
series soon discovered. The US series began with sixteen contestants, eight men and eight women from around America, all of whom had been successful in various professional enterprises, including real estate, restaurant management, political consulting and sales. During the show, the contestants lived communally in a suite on the fourth floor of Trump Tower in Manhattan. In the now familiar format, elimination consisted of one contestant being ‘fired’ by Trump at the conclusion of each week’s episode. Filming of the entire series took just three months. The result was a huge success, with the show averaging at number seven in the weekly viewing charts, and average viewing figures of 20.7 million viewers each week. This was a godsend for NBC, because the channel’s two big hitters – comedies
Frasier
and
Friends
– were coming to an end.

Soon, broadcasters in the United Kingdom who had watched the show and its success saw the potential for a
UK version. The BBC were first to reveal an interest. ‘We are still in advanced negotiations about
T
he Apprentice
. But there have been some ideas discussed, one of which is that [then BBC director general] Greg Dyke might be very good as part of the panel [of judges],’ a spokeswoman said. ‘But we would not consider Greg for the Donald Trump character, and not if he went to ITV.’

Soon, a bidding war erupted over which network would get the rights to
The Apprentice
. BBC2 and Channel 4 both bid fiercely for the rights to the show, but BBC2 came out on top. Although Philip Green was reportedly considered for the top job, the choice of Alan Sugar was undoubtedly the correct one. He had a back catalogue of experience of television thanks to the many interviews and other appearances he had had to make while working at Tottenham Hotspur. Also, as one executive involved said, if Richard Branson had been chosen, he wouldn’t have been able to stop smiling, even as he was firing someone.

So it was that Sir Alan got the nod. ‘
The Apprentice
is a 12-week crash course in business survival techniques. Grounded in commercial reality, it is not for the
faint-hearted
,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t claim to turn everyone into an entrepreneur.’

Why had the man with a shy side, who was often known to ooze with contempt for the media, chosen to sign up? ‘I’d been involved with the government in visiting schools and promoting enterprise among young people, and this opportunity slotted nicely into that,’ he said. ‘Plus, I knew
the US
Apprentice
had taken off, and had a tremendous impact on business awareness. I’m sure they knocked on all the usual suspects’ doors before they got to me, but, while some businessmen may be clever and bright, they can dry up in front of a camera. I’d been on so many
Money Programmes
and faced the cameras constantly when I was chairman of Tottenham Hotspur, and I made it clear that I thought
The Apprentice
was something I could do.’

It wasn’t something he did for the money on a personal level, because he donates his appearance fee to charity. ‘I really think it opens a window into the business world, and that’s why I do it,’ he said forcefully. ‘I know that top businessmen profess to think it’s all a bit of a joke, but, while they’re sitting there calling the candidates a bunch of pricks, they’re all glued to the programme. But I also know for an undisputed fact that kids from 11 to 15 are the biggest audience. They love it and learn from it.’

The opening series was broadcast on 16 February 2005, when we were introduced to the first batch of contestants, who were initially divided into teams of men, named Impact, and women, First Forte, and it was clear from the off that there were plenty of entertaining characters involved.

Adele, 29, was the manager of a lucrative property development company. She was also the general manager of a family firm, something that Sugar could relate to because he has employed relatives at Amstrad since the earliest days. She famously worked into the evening the
night before she gave birth, and sold a kitchen to her midwife during labour. It was clear from the off that here was a straight-talking candidate.

Adenike was a year older than Adele and was just as self-assured. Owning and managing a restaurant and running huge events for top-notch corporate clients, she was clearly a smart character. Her determination and intense focus promised to ensure she was one to watch in situations of potential conflict.