The Donald and Amway (The American Way)

Trumpism as a movement takes me back to my Amway days – back in the 1990s.

Trump, more than anything else, is the embodiment of that cartoonish caricature of the American business paradigm. Brash, self-absorbed, confident, defiant, driven, focused; ready to overcome any hurdle, leap over any barrier to accomplish his goal. The Art of the Deal is a monument to his over-arching mission: to WIN. At all costs. His primary strategy: to disable the opposition by any means necessary. Personal attacks are not a last resort, but rather, the first and most effective means of derailing anyone who might oppose him.

In his business dealings, from the earliest days, he faced opponents: accountants, bank loan underwriters, the compliance officers, the attorneys, the city council, the neighborhood watch groups, the unions, the conservationists, the environmentalists – all stood in his way. They told him no. If the charm offensive and the braggadocio failed, then picking them off, one by one, became a game to him. He would shut them down, shut them out, harass, embarrass, humiliate – whatever it takes – to blow past his opponents and get what he wanted.

He erroneously calls it negotiation. Deal-making. It is neither. It is scorched earth. Obliteration. And on the other side of the fight, he books the loan, wins permission to build and fires up the bulldozer. Up goes the Tower, first class. And when the chandeliers are hanging and lit, the gilded ballroom glittering with gold, floors polished and butlers suitably scrubbed and uniformed, he invites his former detractors in for a look and a drink, and gloats over his triumph. They’ve been trumped.

Chalk up another conquest.

This is the rough and tumble of American business. The American Way. So back in the early eighties, there were some basic principles drilled into us freshly recruited Amway distributors, eager to go Diamond. I never really mastered any of them – but the Donald sure has. (That’s when I read Trump’s, Art of the Deal.)

Fake it ’til you make it.

We are taught this one early on. It’s Success 101. Pretend. Slap on the happy face. Utilize self talk: I am worthy. I have all I need. If it is to be, it’s up to me. If he can do it, I can do it. Dress the part. Act the part. Master the language of success. Be now what you will be then.

In Amway terms, it means, pretend you are a Diamond and pretty soon, you will be one.

In Trumpian terms it means, if you act as though you own the Presidency, pretty soon you’ll slip in to leather chair behind the mahogany desk in the Oval Office.

Name it, then claim it.

This is closely related to Rule #1. There’s overlap here, but the reinforcement is intentional. Say it out loud. Repeat if often. Put it in writing on your mirror so it’ll sink in as you brush your teeth and blow-dry your hair. Make posters. Listen only to those who will reinforce the message. Remember: Garbage in – garbage out. If you repeat your goal often enough, it will become true.

In Amway terms – draw circles night after night and pretty soon your 2,000 wannabes will be right there buying tapes and products and attending your dream-casting seminars. You’ll be rich.

In Trumpian terms, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. Fly-by in the Trump jet, arrive in the Trump helicopter and declare yourself the WINNER. Pretty soon you’ll have 1,237 delegates and the Republican nomination – on your way to the White House.

The dogs bark, but the caravan moves on.

In an image borrowed from the American West, as covered wagons pointed their beasts of burden toward the Pacific Ocean in the pursuit of Manifest Destiny, the wagon master would shout, “Move ‘em out!” You can hear the jingle of the rigs, the snort of the horses, the squeaky turn of the wood spoke wheels, the whistle of the driver and the crack of the whip as the caravan launched off into another day’s travel along the dusty trail. Predictably, the dogs would object. They liked the shade of the wagons and the smoky crackle of the campfire, the smells of breakfast and the easy morning breeze. But the barking of the dogs had no effect on the wagon master’s command. They failed to stop progress. They were nothing more than an annoyance.

In Amway terms, you will encounter dream-stealers, doom-sayers, predictors of failure and disappointment. Don’t listen. They are barking dogs. The caravan is on the move.

In Trumpian terms, the mainstream media, liberals, loser politicians, communists, professional protesters, dissidents, socialists, pointy-headed theorists, all steeped in political correctness will attempt to stop the sure momentum to victory. They are barking dogs. Noisy, distracting, annoying; but entirely ineffective. This is a movement. It can’t be stopped.

What the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve.

It’s no surprise that Trump’s first marriage (Ivana) was performed by Norman Vincent Peale. “I’m a GREAT Christian” he would declare in early in his Presidential campaign – evoking memories of his Pastor’s power of positive thinking. Peale’s protégé, Robert Shuler, would bring that same theology to Southern California, building the now defunct Crystal Cathedral, the ecclesiastical version of the Trump Tower.

These clichés become creeds for the success obsessed.

In Amway terms, the Diamond level of “financial independence” is achievable for those who believe.

And in this era so highly focused on the pursuit of the Presidential prize, Donald Trump is a true believer. The prime properties have materialized; the corporate jet, Trump Force One, a tricked out Boeing 757, materialized. So these creeds are non-negotiable, absolute. And in Trumpian terms, the Trump Presidency is sure to materialize, too.

As Dorothy said, “We’re not in Kansas any more!” With her three new friends, she follows the Yellow Brick Road – off to see the Wizard – the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. And at the end of her journey, she discovers the truth. The intimidating “Wizard” is nothing more than a frightened little old man, harmless, needy, human.

Dorothy returns to Kansas with a new set of eyes.

Amway Diamonds live to perpetuate the illusion that everyone can be a Diamond. Donald Trump’s career has been, more than anything else, a steely resolve to maintain appearances.

Ultimately, it’s all smoke and mirrors.

Hans Christian Anderson had it right – the emperor has no clothes.

All we’ve really got is Kansas.

And that is enough.