Like more than 10 million other Americans, I tune in every Thursday night to see who’s going to get the ax on “The Apprentice.” I, however, take my enthusiasm for the show to levels far beyond the casual viewer — stopping just short of obsessive fan-dom, á la trekkies.
I’ve seen every episode aired thus far and thanks to the wonders of DVD, I’ve seen the first season a couple of times. I’ve also read all six of Donald Trump’s books. But most disturbingly, I’ve allowed “The Apprentice” to affect some of my major life decisions.
Last winter term, during the first season of “The Apprentice,” I was beginning to absolutely despise school. Like the agnostic who says, “I love spirituality but hate organized religion,” my attitude at the time was, “I love learning but hate organized education.”
In high school, we are indoctrinated to believe that anybody who wants to be anybody has to go to college. But I couldn’t stand the thought of going further into debt every year for the privilege of being part of an unmotivated mass of adolescents “learning” at the speed of the slowest common denominator. Perhaps I would have been content to simply hate school, go through the motions and get it over with, but “The Apprentice” was about to change all that.
First-season candidate Troy McClain had developed a successful real-estate business, became a fan favorite and went to the inside track to win the whole enchilada despite having only a high school education. And then there was Nick Warnock, the brassy full-commission copier salesman who brought the floundering Versacorp team its first win.
Inspired by the antics of these illustrious capitalists, I summoned the courage, or foolhardiness, to drop out of school and get a job as a full-commission insurance agent. I took a lot of flack from friends and family, but life was good. I worked hard and always got home in time to catch “The Apprentice” on Thursday nights. Perhaps I would have been content to spend my life trying to work my street smarts and sales skills for all they were worth. But again, “The Apprentice” was about to change all that.
Episode 12, two weeks before the finale, Troy McClain went head to head with his friend, Kwame Jackson, whose primary qualification is an MBA from the Harvard School of Business. It was the epitome of book smarts versus street smarts. When the dust had settled, book smarts won out, and Troy was fired.
That was when it hit me: No matter how smart, skilled or experienced you may be, if you can’t prove it, you can only get so far. It’s not fair, but life’s not fair. I tucked my tail between my legs and limped back to the University, having only delayed my graduation by a term or so.
For the third season of “The Apprentice,” the Donald has added a new twist by pitting a college-educated “book smarts” team against a high school-educated “street smarts” team. It’s like revisiting Troy versus Kwame every week. So far, “The Apprentice” has seemed to confirm the glass ceiling in the business world. Both seasons have been won by college-educated white guys in their mid-30s. We’ll see if this season bucks the trend.
Perhaps in the future they’ll get even further into the nitty gritty by having a “useful degrees” versus “useless degrees.” Who wouldn’t want to see philosophy majors and art history majors face off against MBAs and JDs? Or how about graduate school versus bachelor’s degrees? In any case, there’s plenty of room for Mark Burnett and Donald Trump to beat “The Apprentice” into the ground, just like “Survivor.”

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