Sir Alan Sugar (2 page)

There was indeed much less to smile about than he would have hoped for during his time in football. In 1991, he became chairman of Tottenham Hotspur FC and it was to prove a controversial time. True, he made many friends in the game but there were plenty of fallings-out, too. He remains defiant about those who have badmouthed him. ‘Oh, do me a favour,’ he snapped when asked about some less than kind words a footballer had said about him. ‘Listen to a fucking football player? Will you get real? I don’t know why you’re wasting your breath talking about what a fucking football player says. They’re scum, total scum. They’re bigger scum than journalists, don’t you understand?
They don’t know what honesty or loyalty is. They’re the biggest scum that walk on this planet and, if they weren’t football players, most of them would be in prison, it’s as simple as that.’ This was, to borrow and adapt a football term, route-one talk, but he hadn’t finished. ‘Do not believe a word that comes out of their mouths. All they’re interested in is themselves. Totally themselves! What money’s in their pocket!’

This sort of language shows both his streetwise nature, and the strength that has allowed him to succeed. However, ‘scum’ footballers are far from the only obstacles he has faced on his road to riches. Jealousy has proved to be just as formidable an opponent. For, unlike America – which was the birthplace of the
Apprentice
series with Donald Trump as Sugar’s forerunner – it seems Britain remains a country with a virulent strain of envy in it. The old comparison that when British people see a man driving a Rolls-Royce they sneer at him while when American people see a man driving a Rolls-Royce they cheer him stands as strong as ever in the 21st century. As someone who has done better than most with his life, Sugar is probably all too aware that with success comes envy.

However, it is to be hoped that the interest in shows such as
The Apprentice
and
Dragons’ Den
will lead to a more balanced way of looking at successful businesspeople. Could it be that, in the future, British people begin to view those who make a success of their
lives with admiration, and also with a curiosity: how can we learn from these people so we too can raise ourselves up? Could it be that this change has already begun to happen, and that Britain is already a far less resentful nation? If so, it would be partly thanks to Sugar, who helped kickstart the country’s newfound respect for the businesspeople. Another factor that has helped bring around this change is the growth in ‘you can do it too’ self-help/business books. More and more millionaires are sharing their secrets, and encouraging people to try to follow their example and emulate their success. Dragons Peter Jones, Duncan Bannatyne, James Caan and Theo Paphitis are among the high-profile men to follow this publishing path. However, the shelves of your local bookstore are straining under the weight of books that promise to turn the mere mortal into the millionaire. As for Sugar, he’s been generous with advice and support since long before it became fashionable or profitable. Not that he is a fan of business self-help books. ‘I’ve never been a great believer in [them],’ he said. ‘I am a firm believer that, if you’ve got what it takes, you’ll have a feeling in your gut, a hunger in your belly – and you’ll know you want to be your own boss.’ But those who have interviewed him, or simply those who know him, often tell stories of how he offered them, or those close to them, advice on how to get ahead in business. He has also returned to his school in Hackney to give encouragement and advice to today’s pupils. Never one
to kick the ladder away, Sugar has instead held that ladder firm for those who are trying to climb it.

Do not let his boardroom snappiness fool you: when the time is appropriate, Sir Alan is a man of kindness and generosity. He is a man of charity, too. As with some other wealthy and successful men, he regularly gives his time, expertise and money to fine causes. For instance, he donates to Jewish Care, a prestigious charity that looks after the elderly, frail, sick and vulnerable members of the Jewish community across London and the southeast with an enormous range of services and activities. In 1994, he donated
£
1.1 million to an old people’s home in Ilford. The valuable work of Jewish Care has drawn praise from some fine quarters. For instance, former Prime Minister Tony Blair said, ‘Jewish Care is not just Jewish values in action: it is actually the best of British values in action. You can be really, really proud of the work that you do.’

Sir Alan can also be proud of the work of the Alan Sugar Foundation. To take the accounts from just one year: it donated
£
297,000 to Redbridge Jewish Youth and Community Centre, and
£
150,000 to the United Synagogue Educational Trust’s Redbridge School. Other gifts included
£
50,000 to Jewish Care,
£
25,000 to the Ravenswood Foundation,
£
10,000 to the Jews’ College, London, and
£
5,000 to the National Youth Theatre. He virtually single-handedly saved Chigwell Synagogue from a debt of
£
200,000 by cleverly investing money and paying the interest, tax-free, into a charity set up for
the synagogue. When the debt was paid off, he reclaimed his capital.

Even within the strictly business sphere, Sir Alan has shown a remarkable ability to put the company’s interests ahead of his own. For instance, in the
mid-1980s,
Amstrad’s profits were getting higher and higher, thanks to the company’s successful computer operations. His financial advisers were urging him to increase further the level of the dividends paid out to Amstrad shareholders. Taking this step, he was told, would silence those in the City who were critical of Amstrad. He was having none of it, despite the fact that, with a shareholding of nearly 50 per cent, Sugar himself would have enjoyed a colossal personal payday had he followed their advice.

Similarly, in July 1985, Amstrad ran its first
share-option
scheme for employees. Many companies offer such schemes to their staff, as it’s a good way of rewarding loyalty and encouraging hard work. However, few offer share options as widely within their walls as Amstrad did. Roughly one in ten of the staff from around the world, from directors right down to the most junior staff, was included. In total, 11.551 million shares were offered and the dividend three years later was to the value of around half a million pounds each. At the next annual general meeting, institutional investors expressed their disquiet at the level of generosity Sugar had shown. He brushed off their criticisms, and stood by his decision.
Even on a personal level, Sugar has shown loyalty to his staff. For instance, it seems he even helped one senior employee save his marriage.

He doesn’t simply put his money where his mouth is, then: it seems he also invests his time. ‘I personally believe you have to plough something back,’ he said of the talks he has often given to young business students. ‘It’s the easiest thing in the world to write out a cheque, and of course that just deals with your conscience. I feel I go beyond that by actually wanting to get involved at a grassroots level. I talk to young people about enterprise and try to share with them how I made it and how they might be able to make it. I go anywhere within reason once a month, because they are an audience willing to listen.’

Something that Sir Alan can be – and is – proud of is his close and loving family. Far from his relatives being a mere sideshow in his life, he has made them his priority and far more important than his businesses. Asked for advice about how to make it to the top in business, he said, ‘Put your loved ones, not your profit margin,
centre-stage.’
It is certainly advice that he has followed closely himself. He married his wife Ann in 1968, and those close to the Sugars speak of her with enormous warmth, respect and fondness. As does her husband. ‘Ann is respected by everyone,’ said Sugar proudly. ‘She is the opposite of me but we complement each other and she can read me like a book. She knows when I have a lot on my mind and is 
happy to let me sit watching TV while I wind down. Sometimes when I get home on a Friday night my head is still pounding with the problems of the week.’

A family friend said, ‘She’s very much the family’s anchor and Alan’s personal anchor. They are still very close and loving with each other, which adds to Alan’s strength as a businessman.’

Just as Sir Alan is a loving husband, so too is he a devoted father. Sometimes, the children of the rich can become greedy brats, but Sir Alan is justly proud of how grounded and level-headed his children are. ‘I wanted them to see how the rest of the world live, to realise they have a privileged life,’ he said a few years ago. ‘I think they are all fairly well balanced. Ann and I wanted them to grow up with the same values that we had. I figure, once they’ve got past a certain stage and they’re not out beating up old ladies, then you’ve won. They are really down-
to-earth,
nice people, don’t sling their weight around. They’ve never been the Ferrari-driving, cocaine-sniffing,
party-going
type. They’ve got the right values.’ Summing up the relationship between family and business, he said, ‘You want them both settled. A happy balance. I was brought up with true family values. We were poor but we had standards. And my wife Ann came from a similar background. That’s why we’ve been together 37 years.’ And, in 2008, they held a lavish celebration of their 40th wedding anniversary surrounded by friends and family, the most important thing to them both.

Throughout his career, Sir Alan has received plaudits and awards for his business work. He was voted the
Guardian
’s Young Businessman of the Year in 1984, at the age of 37. The crowing glory came when he was knighted in 2000, for services to business. He said, ‘I think it shows how someone can start from a humble background and go on to be very successful. It is just a great shame that my mum and dad can’t be around to see what happened.’ A shame indeed, for the story of ‘what happened’ with this man’s incredible life is gripping and inspiring.

This, then, is the incredible story of Sir Alan Sugar. The rags-to-riches story of how this incredible man moved from his East End childhood boiling beetroots for the local greengrocer, to his knighthood and seat at the table of former Prime Minister Gordon Brown. It covers all the drama, excitement and inspiration as he amasses an estimated net worth of
£
830 million and a place in the
Sunday Times Rich List.
Along the way, it proves handsomely that, when he boasted to
Apprentice
contestants that he is ‘unique’, he was – to use an apt term – very much on the money.

CHAPTER ONE

YOU'RE SIRED!

W
ith the dark shadow of the Second World War still cast over the planet, 1947 was still an eventful year. The future Queen of England, Princess Elizabeth, married the Duke of Edinburgh, a crashed UFO was found in the desert in Roswell, leading to decades of speculation among conspiracy theorists and alien obsessives, and the United Nations General Assembly voted to partition Palestine between Arabs and Jews, a move that resulted in the creation of the State of Israel. There were some notable births that year, too, including pop stars David Bowie and Elton John, as well as future US politicians Hillary Rodham Clinton and actor-
cum-politician
Arnold Schwarzenegger.

And, on 24 March 1947, Sir Alan Michael Sugar was born in Hackney, east London, a man who was to become not just an immensely successful businessman,
but also a television star, generous charity benefactor and all-out national treasure. It was a difficult birth and, in the end, he was delivered via caesarean section at the Hackney Hospital. He was the fourth child that Nathan and Fay's marriage produced, joining twins Derek and Daphne, and eldest sister Shirley in the clan. There had been shock in the Sugar household when it was discovered that Fay, then 38, was pregnant, as it had been a full 11 years since her previous child was born. After the Caesarean birth, Fay spent three weeks recovering in hospital, and she recalled that her newborn son was suitably bossy and noisy from the start.

One of London's most famous boroughs, Hackney was a strangely suitable surrounding for this future business giant's first steps in the world. A rough-and-ready yet charming and charismatic area, it is much like Sugar himself. Other celebrities to have been born in, or lived in, Hackney, include the star of the
Carry On
films and
East Enders
Barbara Windsor, actor Ray Winstone, Ronnie and Reggie Kray, footballer Ron Chopper Harris, and
X Factor
star Leona Lewis. It is fitting that the borough has such a star-studded alumni, as it also has many cultural attractions, including the Hackney Empire theatre, which Sugar has played a large part in supporting. He is now a patron of the plush, charming theatre. Built on Mare Street in Hackney in 1901, this Grade II listed building has played host to such luminaries as Charlie Chaplin, W C Fields, Stan Laurel
and Marie Lloyd. During his smash-hit television series
The Apprentice,
Sugar has regularly built tasks around the Hackney Empire, bringing both attention and funds to this national institution.

So what was the future tycoon like as a youngster? Sugar was reportedly a quiet child, his noisiness as a baby notwithstanding, and many recall him as a bit of a loner, which is perhaps unsurprising given the 11-year age gap between him and his nearest sibling. He must have in a sense felt like an only child, and his siblings may have seemed more like adults than contemporaries. He would attempt to tag along with his brother Derek's gang, but naturally the teenage Derek was not exactly overjoyed to have someone 12 years his junior cramping his style. In day-to-day life, it was normally his sister Daphne who paid him most attention.

It was Daphne who looked after him the most, too. In David Thomas's excellent book
Alan Sugar – The Amstrad Story,
there is an amusing tale about his first day at primary school. Sugar's sister Daphne took him along to school, and was shocked when he returned home at 11am. It seemed the youngster thought that morning play meant the school day had finished. Because he failed to pass the 11+ exam, Sugar was not eligible to enrol at a grammar school, and instead he went to the Joseph Priestley secondary. The school merged with another establishment soon after Alan enrolled, and the new institution was called Brooke House. There, he
enjoyed a wonderfully varied educational experience. As he told David Thomas, ‘I could still to this day build a brick wall if I had to. And I can still recite parts of Shakespeare. I can turn a lathe and read or draw a technical drawing. It was an amazing school.' He enjoyed studying science and engineering, and also took great pleasure from the classes in metalwork and technical drawing. Those who taught him back then were later to express surprise that he had made such a success of his life, as they found him in no way extraordinary during his childhood.

One of Sugar's earliest childhood memories is an unhappy one. As with a lot of people, some of his most vivid recollections of his earliest years revolve around a brush with illness that was to require medical attention. ‘It's a bad memory,' he sighs. ‘I was six and I was dumped in this cot in Hackney Hospital to have my adenoids out. I screamed and shouted, saying I should be in a proper bed, not a cot, 'cos I was six. I was still screaming when they put the mask over my face. Afterwards, my mother promised me I'd never have to go to hospital again. She conned me. A year later, I was in the same hospital, having my tonsils out.' In later years, Sugar has joked that he sometimes feels like a hypochondriac. Certainly, his appearances on
Friday Night with Jonathan Ross
always seem to contain a noteworthy level of medical chatter.

Sugar is proud of his Hackney heritage, and feels it has
very much shaped who he is as both a person and a businessman. ‘I can't help the way I am,' he states firmly. Indeed, he wonders, why he would want to. ‘My East End background might have made me a little rough round the edges, but that's not something I can do anything about. It was good training for reality; it kept me down to earth and taught me to quickly appraise situations and assess propositions.'

Those who have worked alongside Sugar, and also those who have been his rivals down the years, will attest to his sharp brain, and ability to analyse matters very wisely and efficiently. Even as his level of fortune and fame has rocketed skywards, he has always kept it real. ‘I suppose the most telling thing about me is that I've been married to the same woman for 30 years,' he said, a few years ago. ‘That's unusual for someone as rich and successful as me. But that's because I've kept the same values I had when I lived in a council house. I've come across people who went to the same cockney school as me. And I see them 30 years on, and they talk as if they went to Eton. And I know these are the same ratbags I sat next to at school in Hackney.'

Indeed, because there is no getting away from the reality that Sugar's childhood was by no means an entirely comfortable one, certainly not in financial terms. For instance, his parents refused to buy him a copy of the
Beano
comic, reasoning that he would throw it away once he had read it, and therefore it would be a
waste of money. This atmosphere must have been an early jolt to his entrepreneurial spirit. As he put it himself, ‘If you wanted pocket money you had to get it yourself.' Perhaps it is the way he rose from relatively humble beginnings to become such a successful and wealthy entrepreneur that makes him justifiably impatient with the excuses that some people throw up when explaining their own lack of success. ‘I fought my way out of poverty and I remain convinced that others can do likewise too,' he has said.

However, amid the poverty that he fought his way out of, there were also some advantages, and ones that belong very much to a bygone era, perhaps never to be repeated. Sugar recalls this era, and its positive points, with a tangible wistfulness. ‘We lived in the council blocks and we did all the good things. You could play in the streets, playgrounds, build bikes and carts. You can't roam around in these terrible times we live in now.' This East End spirit is one that many of those who hark from that area in that era will attest to, and Sugar mourns its loss in modern Britain. Not that Sugar is in anyway blind in his love of the area he came from, and the people who lived there back then. He feels he differs from some people that have come from his background. For instance, when asked whether he would drive further to go to a petrol station where the fuel was a few pennies cheaper, he insisted he would not. ‘No, no, no, no. Definitely not. And nor would I work out which is the
cheapest mobile-phone operator and all that nonsense,' he snapped.

He went on to explain that he felt people from his neck of the woods – even the successful ones – often had this tight-fistedness. Not him, though. ‘Those kinds of people wind me up terribly,' he roars. ‘If they applied their ingenuity to their businesses, they would be making far more money than what they think they're saving. I couldn't give a monkey's. If I had to go to a
foreign-exchange
kiosk, I'd just walk up and say I want
£
200 in dollars – I wouldn't even look at the rate of exchange. But I've seen lots of other people from my sort of background who have become successful but there's still a stinginess about them, a stinginess that was needed when they were at their grass roots but they can't get it out of their system. I got it out of my system as soon as I could afford things.'

He has also spoken out tetchily about how he is still approached by people who claim they knew him in Hackney ‘back in the day', but who he doesn't remember. As you can imagine, the straight-talking Sugar gives them short shrift. ‘You can see them coming from the corner of your eye. He or she has been staring at you all night. No, not plucking up courage, these people are the worst, they are rude, they butt in, they have no common courtesy at all. They say something like “You know my uncle in Hackney.” I say, “Oh, really?” “Yes, he says you know him very well.” Then they rattle off a name. I say, “No, I
don't know him, I've never heard of him.” “Oh, but you do know him.” “I don't know him, I'm sorry.” “But you went to school with him, you must know him.” Then I get a bit annoyed. Yes, sometimes I can be rude. I would probably say, “Well, I don't know him so clear off,” or words to that effect.' This tendency would lead to a rather amusing episode concerning Rupert Murdoch later in his life.

Meanwhile, largely eschewing the after-school activities that were on offer at his various educational establishments, the young Alan Sugar preferred to head home and pursue some of his interests, pastimes and hobbies, which included photography and cooking. Both would soon be turned into more professional interests, and rather profitable ones at that. He began to make ginger beer at home, and sold it to his fellow pupils. This was done by feeding a ginger-beer plant each evening. He would then pour out the resulting drink and flog it to friends, undercutting the more expensive big-brand soft drinks such as Coke. He was following the example of his uncle, whom he describes as one of his earliest heroes. ‘At the age of 17, my icon was my Uncle John, because he had a little corner shop in Victoria and was the only person I knew in business. As time goes by, you tend to overtake those people and look back in admiration. I've passed Uncle John, Harry the bloke who had the stall around the corner, Fred the chap who had the big electrical store, Bob the bloke
who had the big warehouse and Frank the fellow big importer of electronics.'

It's not known whether Sugar believes in astrology, but those who do set store in that field would find much in him to back up their beliefs. Born under the Zodiac sign of Aries, which is suitably enough the Ram, he has gone on to display many of the associated traits: courage, initiative, stubbornness and straightforwardness are all said to be typical among Arians. Those born under this sign are also often said to be opinionated. Anyone who came up against him in
The Apprentice
boardroom in later years would go along with that. Some of these traits were apparent from an early age. He recalls himself as ‘not a ruffian', but admits that, even as a child, with him there was ‘always plenty of talk'. Could it be that some of that ‘talk' was heard by his teachers when he was a schoolboy? Sugar attended the Brooke House School in Upper Clapton, Hackney. In a school report that was released to the media, one of the teachers who taught the young Alan Sugar, a Mr Robinson, gives an insight into what sort of pupil he was. He believes the teenage Sugar was ‘an able boy' but he continues, ‘He must take more care in the presentation of his work. A great improvement in his ability, but it is often misapplied. Alan is broadening his sphere of activities.' More interesting and revealing is the passage that covers Sugar's involvement in the sporting side of the curriculum. The teacher is full of praise for his pupil: ‘A good year's work' from Sugar. He
adds, ‘Alan has represented the house in football and rugby. He has helped in the organisation of the teams. Well done, Alan.' Well done, indeed. And how fitting that a man who would go on to run a top-class English football club should have made such a great job in the organisation of football and rugby teams in his school days. If only he was similarly appreciated by the fans of that club.

Those school reports emerged in 1997, when Sugar returned to the school, which has since been renamed Hackney Community College, to launch its centre for construction, civil engineering and community education. It was an emotional and inspiring occasion for all. Sugar addressed more than 200 young people and talked to them about opportunities for starting their own businesses. A fun run also took place during the day, passing the old centres of the college, which housed the construction and engineering courses. Sugar, a charismatic speaker even before his
Apprentice
days, had the audience in the palm of his hand, as he told pupils that success requires ‘hard work, focus and determination'. Naturally, the visit prompted headlines and Sugar's comments give an insight into how he looks back on his own childhood, and how he wants the best for the children of Hackney, where he took his first steps. He told reporters afterwards, ‘I started out in business in Hackney as a kid and earned a living there as a kid, doing things that the youngsters of Hackney can do here today. I want to burn the spirit of
entrepreneurship into them not to lecture them, but actually show them that business can be fun and that the rewards of hard work and common sense can be even more fun.'