04.05.2005

Keeping it real

Lawrence Parker confesses to being a fan of the BBC2 show The Apprentice

The BBC2 programme The apprentice involves 14 entrepreneurial gunslingers jousting for the chance to be employed by Sir Alan Sugar (estimated to have a business empire worth £700 million) for a six-figure salary. The 'contestants' have been taken through a variety of business-related activities, from flogging cuddly toys in Harrods to devising an advertising scheme. Generally, the competitors have been split into two teams. One of the losing team is sacked. By the time you read this we will know who is the winner of The apprentice - Saira and Tim will go head to head in the final show. This begs the question as to why this needs to be written now. Surely it would be better to wait until the series ends. Well, no actually. Given that it is increasingly obvious that the producers of The apprentice (itself a derivative of a more razzy US production) measure themselves against entertainment values rather than the more prosaic task of finding someone who is willing to be growled at by Sir Alan for the next five years. Of course, this is not the message intended. The codes of ubiquitous 'reality' TV are pushed to the forefront: there is a 'real' job on offer and, in an upmarket echo of Big brother, the candidates have been housed in a luxurious eight-bedroom mansion on the banks of the Thames. 'Reality' TV is probably the most depressing cultural monument to the early 21st century. The intensely artificial values of the entertainment industry are now glossed over with this desire for the 'real', pushing an implicit message that we do not really need human direction or control over anything. Just let the cameras roll and 'reality' flood in. The key to this is probably one of the finalists, saleswoman Saira. This woman is a walking human-relations disaster. She manages to offend and alienate just about everyone she comes into contact with. Highly strung and a self-confessed bullshitter, you would think twice about getting her to do any sort of task that involved other people (other than sales work, where I will own that these characteristics could be prerequisites). But, on the other hand, she makes great television. The other finalist, transport manager Tim, is Saira's opposite (again, an obvious production value). He is a nice guy. When he won his place in the final, after bluntly detailing his reservations, Sir Alan told him: "I've read about your deprived background. You're from the East End like me. I'm proud of you." What could be more consoling than this faux-proletarian bonhomie, particularly after Tim has jumped over some of the more ridiculous middle class buffoons who littered the earlier programmes? Poor boy makes good. Interestingly too, both of the finalists are black. There is also the distinct sense that The apprentice is a public relations exercise for Sir Alan Sugar. Most people do not really associate him with being a successful businessman. They think of him as the bloke who got hounded out of the chairman's seat at Tottenham Hotspur Football Club after the supporters turned on him (although he still owns 13% of the shares). Therefore, watching Sir Alan's ritual weekly humiliation of the 'cream' of our entrepreneurial talent gives out the message that, no, this guy is not in fact to be trifled with. One can sense the purging quality this offers to Sir Alan after having had to put up with Spurs fans calling him a 'wanker' (and other less flattering epithets) at home games for a couple of years. The BBC should be congratulated for making Wednesday evenings go that bit quicker. But do not use The apprentice for an insight into business recruitment practices or the cultural mores of modern Britain. Coronation Street is probably a much better bet. Lawrence Parker