Abstract
Seen through the lens of Republican candidate Donald Trump’s reality TV program ‘The Apprentice,’ his promise to American voters that they’ll tire of “winning” under his regime takes on a darker meaning. This article identifies ‘the loser’ as a potent new political symbol emblematic of ‘contestants’ who in the face of mathematical loss become ‘bigger’ losers if they fail to assert their right to a non-meritorious victory. The fact of one’s loss is not as important as one’s reaction to it. To lose is possible, but to be a ‘loser’ is the ultimate humiliation that justifies taking extreme, even immoral measures. Contestants who are willing to ‘do anything’ to win are rewarded more generously often than those who, in reality, are the rightful winners. Such a perspective rationalizes a politics of exaggerations, lies and defamation. Extending Couldry and Littler’s discourse of passion, we identify the mechanism that enables and compels some voters to embrace Trump’s divisive politics of ‘otherism’ as astute ‘game playing.’ In Trump’s world, to win means many more must lose. Just as in the reality TV world, however, Trump alone holds the power to annoint winners and exile losers, meaning there is no guarantee of success for anyone but him.
Keywords
Give all the outrageous claims to come out of candidate Donald Trump’s mouth during the Republican primaries, his early promise that “We will have so much winning . . . that you may get bored with winning, believe me” 1 seemingly pales in comparison. In Trump’s reality TV like world, losing is permissible, but to be a loser is to be cast out of the game entirely.
By contrast, the list of losers in Trump’s world is practically endless, beginning with his immediate Republican opponents, through to the members of the press, and even previously revered members of the Republican elite. 2 Indeed, in Trump’s world, for some to win many more must lose, which helps explain the breath-taking embrace by some of his racist, xenophobic, and misogynist communication strategy. The more losers—delineated by Trump based on every form of “otherism”—the better the odds of victory.
We argue that the Trumpesque “loser” serves as a potent new political symbol, a caricature that Trump has previously deployed in his television and business careers to sidestep complex social issues and justify winning at all costs. As the commercial for his 1980s board game “Trump” enthused, “It’s not whether you win or lose, but whether you win!” 3
Trump’s campaign and self-help books have elevated winning to such heights that voters can sweep aside fact free claims and racist proposals as simply a means to a victorious end. As the press, the Republican brass, and voters have realized during the Republican primaries, Trump’s campaign does not fit nicely into an insurgent or independent-political framework. Rather, as others in this section also note, we contend that Trump’s power derives in large measure from the “anointing-of-winners” persona he cultivated as an entrepreneurial guru, and is enhanced by his role as CEO and ultimate judge of desperate-for-success contestants on his reality TV program The Apprentice.
Over the course of fourteen seasons, the program challenged individual entrepreneurs to first work in small groups to launch campaigns to sell the most widgets in a simple meritocracy. The losing team was summoned to face the firing squad in Trump’s imposing boardroom to not only explain and defend their loss but also convince the CEO/entrepreneur that they should not hear “You’re fired!” In a compelling critique of the program, Nick Couldry and Jo Littler (2011) note the importance of the discourse of passion articulated by members of the losing team, an emotional plea to Trump that communicates their understanding of the rules of neoliberal competition—a la, “I’m willing to do anything!” In our analysis, this “passion” can be extended to explain how Trump’s extremism and lies are so often overlooked by supporters as expressions of his commitment to a winning strategy. We also see two other factors at play when contestants face the “firing” squad that, moreover, help to explain Trump’s ability to grow his popularity despite inconsistencies, any single one of many would have sunk previous candidacies.
First, while Trump consistently recognized and admonished the losers during these penultimate moments in The Apprentice boardroom, his real venom was often directed to the contestants who folded; that is, those he decided had failed to defend their skills and potential in the face of loss—those who gave up on winning. Simple failure or loss in the contest was not by itself reason for dismissal. If he saw hesitation, insecurity, or the ownership and admission of loss, that “loser” would be fired. Losing was regrettable, being a loser was unacceptable. The fact of the loss was in other words often not as important as one’s reaction to it. There could be no admission of a loss, no taking ownership of defeat or personal failings that contributed to the loss. One must keep playing the game. After all, when people stop craving personal, individual victory, the foundation of Trump’s appeal falls apart.
Second, the rules of the game shifted based on Trump’s whims, ensuring he was the ultimate power, the post-meritorious (Littler 2013) demi-God, who alone controlled the ability to win. On the hustings, Trump similarly sweeps aside demands for details of policy or strategy, reserving to himself alone the right to decide how to govern and later characterize the outcome of his actions. For now, he is assuring voters that they will be winners if they vote for him, but in his reality TV world of arbitrary power, there is no guarantee of success for anyone other than Trump.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
