What You See Is What You Get: My Autobiography (96 page)

It transpired that the BBC, due to some rule or other, insisted I
had
to have a fee, so a figure they'd expect to pay for comparable hosts was put in my contract. I donated the fee to Great Ormond Street Hospital.

Once these boring matters of contracts and money were out of the way, things really started to get exciting. We now had to discuss the tasks we would be setting the candidates. A lot of debate went on to come up with twelve
ideas. I have to say that the production team actually
listened
to my ideas. I had learned - in football, for example - that you don't share your ideas with people who are supposed to be experts, like managers, as they don't welcome it. It's the old 'not invented here' syndrome. But here were a bunch of people that took me into the fold and were grateful for my input.

With the benefit of my business expertise (and I'm sure Talkback would agree), I pointed out that some of their task ideas didn't stack up and would be hard to portray on TV. The tasks had to be tailored to the time constraints in which they were to be conducted. I'm not saying that everything I suggested was agreed, certainly not. Some of my ideas probably didn't make sense to them. But there was a good atmosphere of brainstorming, where everyone's ideas were thrown into the pot and the best ones were used, whether they were mine or someone else's. In many cases, somebody come up with the seed of an idea and somebody else went on to enhance it. That's how it should be.

There was also a lot of discussion about the
rules
of the tasks, in anticipation of the candidates arguing the toss on what they could and couldn't do. All this took weeks of to-ing and fro-ing and, to be fair to Talkback, they made me feel part of the team compiling these tasks.

The selection of the candidates, however, was done entirely by Talkback. They placed some advertisements in the national newspapers for people to apply for a business show. Despite the fact that no one had heard of
The Apprentice,
we had thousands of applicants, many of whom just wanted to be on TV. The BBC insisted that when Talkback selected the candidates, the application process had to be done in a fair and democratic way. The recruitment process had to take place nationwide - in London, Birmingham, Manchester and Glasgow - so as to give the whole of the country a chance. This was part of the BBC's strict rules and regulations in accordance with their compliance standards.

I didn't have any input into the final choice of the fourteen candidates - that was all down to Peter Moore and Tanya Shaw. I think they were a bit paranoid in distancing me from this process, but I guess they didn't know me and I can understand them having the wrong impression from what they'd read in the media, particularly the football stuff. I'm sure they thought I was a bit of an interfering, domineering autocrat who would try to take control of every single thing. Little did they know, this was a long way from the truth. I knew nothing about television production - these people were the experts. Having said that, I don't think it would have hurt, as we neared the closing stages of applications, to have shared with me the final fifty or a hundred
applicants' CVs. Instead, they were presented to me as a fait accompli and I was shown their pictures a week before we started filming.

This was a really exciting venture and it was something I needed. I'd done the business with Amstrad and I'd romanced the football industry without succeeding (albeit I still made a bit of money), but this was a new voyage in my life.

When we got close to filming, I was introduced to two other senior members of the production team, Dan Adamson and Beth Dicks. Beth was going to be the lady by my side, filming the general visual shots of me they'd use in the makeup of the programme, like the opening scenes or me driving around in my car or on my boat. These shots are normally done in advance, so when they come to edit the final shows, they can slot them in at the appropriate places.

I recall going to Stansted, standing in front of my plane and being given a script of what to say. It was at this point that I realised I hadn't mentioned to Peter or Tanya that I was
not
going to be scripted in any way, shape or form, or told what to say or do!

The script they had given me was difficult for me to rattle off in a natural way. They weren't Alan Sugar words' and after an hour of repeatedly trying to record it in a noisy aeroplane hangar, having to stop and start every time a plane took off, I was getting a little frustrated and so was Beth. I reckon she must have been thinking, 'Bloody hell, we've picked a wrong 'un here - he can't string a set of words together.'

This prompted me to speak to Peter and Tanya. I said, 'I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding here. When I'm talking to the candidates or my advisers, if you think I'm going to work from a script or read out the lines I'm going to say to people, then you've made a serious mistake. I'm sorry not to have thought of mentioning it to you earlier, but there's no way I'd be prepared to do that. I'm not an actor and it will just come across as false. If you want to get the best out of me, you just need me to let rip and do what I want to do.' Peter and Tanya were quite shocked that this is what I had thought.

Peter said, 'We actually chose you
because
you're a motor-mouth. There is no way we're going to script you - you
are
going to be let loose. Do what you want, say what you want. At the end of the day, if
you
don't like some of the things you said, or
we
don't like some of the things you said, it's not a live programme - we'll edit it.'

This assurance came as a great relief to me. From that day, all the things I said out on location and in the general shots were my own words, after I'd got the gist of what the production people wanted me to put across. Luckily,
Peter was very pleased with the videos coming back from the location shoots. It was a big risk taking me on and his reputation was on the line. He wouldn't know if he'd made a mistake or not until the candidates turned up for the first time in the boardroom and we got started.

In the meantime, at the end of an Amstrad board meeting, I took Margaret to one side and told her I was going to participate in a TV programme called
The Apprentice.
I gave her a video of the American version to watch and told her I'd be taking on Donald Trump's role in the UK version. Nick Hewer had already accepted the role of one of the advisers; would she consider the other role?

Her immediate reaction was, 'I've never done anything like that before - I wouldn't know what to do. I've never been on television or given an interview. As you know, Alan, I have always kept away from the press and I have always warned you to keep away from the press and keep your mouth shut. I'm not sure whether this is meant for me, but I'll have a look at the video and let you know if I'm interested.'

I didn't want to put too much pressure on her, but asked her to let me know in the next couple of days. Judging by her initial reaction, I wasn't very hopeful she'd go for it. Thinking about it more though, it looked like the dream team. Nick, a very stand-up, posh-speaking, respectable man; Margaret, an eloquent, high-profile ex-City lawyer. Two serious people - and in the middle, this kind of rough diamond, a hard-nosed businessman. What a mixture!

Margaret called me back a day later and said she would do it, so long as it didn't interfere with her other commitments (some non-executive directorships). She felt, as I did, that it was quite an exciting and interesting challenge. Knowing she was onboard, I told Peter and Tanya of my choice. They didn't raise any objection - they too knew that three most unusual characters from different walks of life would be a winning formula for TV.

I was now to meet the fourteen candidates for the first time. Nick, Margaret and I were positioned in the boardroom waiting for them.
They
knew they were going to meet Sir Alan Sugar, but I didn't know who they were. And no one had any idea what I was going to say to them apart from me. Over the weeks of preparation, I'd worked out in my mind the thrust of what I wanted to say to let them know who I was and what I expected. I had it kind of stored in my memory cells, ready for the big day.

As they sat down, I started explaining to them, calmly at first, what the process was about. I would be putting them in teams, sending them out to do various business tasks. One team will win, one team will lose, and someone
in the losing team will be fired. At the end of the twelve-week process, there will be one person left who will get a six-figure salaried job with me. So far, so good.

Then I upped the volume and broke into my famous tirade, telling them not to underestimate me - I don't like liars, bullshitters, cheats and schmoozers. I ranted on for what felt like ages but was only a few minutes, then sent them off to a house I'd got for them to live in over the course of the next twelve weeks. I told them I'd be calling them later to set the first task.

The candidates exited the boardroom and were whisked off to the house. Peter and Tanya were absolutely delighted. The cameramen filming the thing found it hard to keep a straight face as they saw how the candidates were in shock. I often wonder now how cameramen manage to keep their mouths shut or not burst out laughing.

I felt pleased at that moment for Peter Moore. He had gambled on me and it was the first time he had seen me in full flow in front of the candidates. As a professional who had made lots of successful television programmes, he must have been relieved. From that moment on, I think he knew he was going to have a big hit on his hands.

It was time to get going on the first task. We'd come up with an easy opener for the candidates - to go to a wholesale flower market to buy flowers, then sell them on the streets. I'd chosen flowers because they are perishable items and in that kind of business there's an art to buying the right amount of stock to make sure that, at the end of a trading day, you don't have any left, as they will decay and be unsaleable. When introducing the task, as an analogy for the flower-selling situation, I asked the candidates to turn up at the printing works of the
Financial Times.
I told them we were there to illustrate that a daily newspaper has to be produced and delivered overnight, put on sale and by the end of the day there should be none left, as there's nothing more useless than yesterday's news.
Their
task was to sell a commodity with a similarly short shelf-life.

Despite my having no input in the selection of candidates, they turned out to be quite a good bunch of people, quite credible and from all walks of life. Some of them were highly qualified. A few were in the business world, while others worked for ordinary organisations. Tim Campbell, for example, worked for London Underground.

Surprisingly, the boys won the first task. There was a brilliant performance from Paul Torrisi, a fiery northerner with Italian blood in him, who turned out to be one of the show's main characters in that series. It was clear from the way the show was going that, apart from the underlying business
message, it was great entertainment seeing these characters performing under pressure, getting stressed and arguing with each other.

At the end of the task, I would question the candidates. It wasn't until I was thrown into the deep end that first time that I realised I was talking blind. How could I judge something if I hadn't seen what was going on? Sure, anyone could judge which team had won by selling more items, but to work out which person from the losing team was culpable, I needed Nick and Margaret's feedback. I forced a debate amongst the candidates and asked Nick and Margaret to interject. It went on for ages, as I needed to get a clear picture in my mind of what had happened. From then on, I had a serious debriefing with Nick and Margaret after every task was performed, before the candidates came into the boardroom to face me.

To dispel any rumours, I have to say that I really
don't
get to see what goes on while the candidates are out in the field or at the house. As much as I'd like to be a fly on the wall, the fact is, the footage takes weeks to process and put into a format for viewing. In most cases, I meet up with the candidates the day after the task is completed. As I don't have any footage to view, I have to use my imagination and rely on the feedback from Nick and Margaret.

The candidates would argue with each other in front of me and some would bend the truth for sure. When I picked them up for being less than honest, they were totally shocked at the information I had on them, which was all down to Nick and Margaret - my eyes and ears. I'd also learned a few techniques from the barristers I'd observed during my court cases. I would let the candidates ramble on with their version of events - and, in some cases, bury themselves - then I'd pounce on them with the truth. After a few weeks, they got the plot not to bullshit me.

What became clear was how people would make the most irrational business decisions under pressure. Some of the simple basics of business were being ignored, such as paying attention to costings, working out how many items to buy so they didn't get stuck with leftover stock and ensuring that what they were selling made a profit!

It was also quite amazing to see the naivety of academics who had never been involved in business or, worse, those who claimed they were experienced in business. After all, one wasn't asking them to create a complex business model - it was all simple stuff. It came as a great shock to me that some people completely ignored simple maths and hadn't realised their early decisions had left them dead in the water before they'd even started. Even more fascinating was seeing how, having explained the errors of their ways
throughout the course of the process, the same mistakes were repeated over and over again.