钟伟：按闹分配——特朗普的“交易艺术”与趋弱的单极化

延伸阅读：

《交易的艺术》

（来源 亚马逊 图书目录预览）

作者：Donald J. Trump

特朗普三十年前的著作《交易的艺术》介绍了“交易的11个要素”。这些要素包括：

“野心勃勃”

莱万多夫斯基称，特朗普牢记着这句话，从一开始就决定不采取只着眼一两个州的策略，而是要打一场全国性的战役。

特朗普在接受采访时称，你必须全面取胜，赢一两个州没有意义。

这一理念促使特朗普迅速采取了令人震惊并激怒了很多人的立场。在巴黎和圣贝纳迪诺恐怖袭击发生后，他建议美国暂时禁止穆斯林入境，从而引发了一场风暴。

“了解你的市场”

特朗普将选民视为目标市场，他认为选民愤怒并且不满当前局面，对华盛顿的僵局感到失望，而且受够了政府在国内外的软弱形象。他说，他没有把这个市场看成一个狭隘的或是由各种小众组成的市场，而是视为一个广阔的市场。

特朗普表示：我的目标市场是这个国家中希望看到美国再次伟大的人们。他说：很显然，这样的人很多，不分年龄、种族或是什么。

“提升活动场所的层次”

早期前往艾奥瓦州和新罕布什尔州的行程显示出，由于特朗普的名人身份，他在传统家庭聚会上能比其他候选人吸引到更多参与者。早前在新罕布什尔州共和党议员Stephen Stepanek家中举办的一次活动中，参与人数太多以致家中地板都要塌了。自此之后的活动都会找比较大的地方。

虽然有人批评这种做法偏离了新罕布什尔州政治集会传统的温馨气氛，但却吸引了更多人，获得了更多媒体报道。莱万多夫斯基称，地方更大带来了更多好处。

“学会宣传”

特朗普在书中建议：如果你有一些不同，有一些令人吃惊，抑或你的行为大胆或具有争议性，那么媒体就会报道你。

这种情况就发生在当特朗普建议暂时禁止穆斯林进入美国时，也发生在他质疑前共和党总统候选人麦凯恩(John McCain)是否因为被俘而成为战争英雄时。特朗普充满争议性的言论在好几周的时间里霸占着媒体版面，评论人士和政治家们纷纷预言他将失败。但实际情况却是他的支持率不断上升。

特朗普还利用另一个强大的工具来进行宣传：推特(Twitter)。特朗普早上在发推特，晚上也在发，几乎一直都在发。他说，有些人不喜欢一边使用推特一边竞选总统这种做法；这些人都落伍了。特朗普不使用电脑，而是利用手机发布推特。

通过其推特、Facebook及Instagram账号，特朗普竞选活动的关注人数已经接近1,400万人。据特朗普竞选团队中的社交媒体负责人斯卡维诺(Daniel Scavino)称，特朗普的竞选活动在Facebook上拥有超过5,000万参与量。

“控制成本”

通过社交媒体以及从参加集会的人群那里获得的数据，特朗普得以接触到大量潜在支持者，其竞选活动因而满足了这一原则。几周前，特朗普的竞选团队开始在他发表演讲的讲台上张贴一个五位数的联系号码，支持者们可以藉此来获得最新消息。莱万多夫斯基称，他们没有花一分钱，却收到了100万条短信。这样一来他们就用不着通过购买数据库和选民取得联系了。

特朗普也没有付钱给他的民意调查人员，他对这种节约成本的办法感到自豪。

“回击”

这一原则可能是《交易的艺术》一书给出的建议中特朗普最严格遵守的一条。特朗普公开声称，如果自己受到打击，他会予以更大力度的回击。特朗普从一开始就嘲讽其他候选人，尤其是前佛罗里达州州长布什(Jeb Bush)，特朗普多次说布什“没精打采”(low energy)。

特朗普称，不管做生意还是竞选活动中，回击是必须要做的。他称：我并不喜欢这样做，但别无选择。他说道：我听到人们说特朗普不应该这样做，因为他在竞选中处于领先地位，但当有人攻击你时，你不得不予以回击。

“乐在其中”

特朗普说，这是完成交易的最后一个要素，他在竞选过程中也是如此，即便是在活动之后人们排起长队与他握手以及与他一起自拍时。

许多特朗普的支持者也喜欢他的书。57岁的罗森博格(Jeff Washenberger)来自弗吉尼亚萨勒姆(Salem)，他说他读了《交易的艺术》一书，他认为这本书对于经营他的汽车旅馆及租赁物业很有帮助。罗森博格还表示，他认为特朗普将把他在做交易方面的优势带到白宫。

在周一弗吉尼亚州拉德福德(Radford)的一次活动之后，一些支持者高举《交易的艺术》这本书，特朗普很高兴地为他们签名。

英文介绍及媒体推荐：

“Trump makes one believe for a moment in the American dream again.” —The New York Times

“Donald Trump is a deal maker. He is a deal maker the way lions are carnivores and water is wet.” —Chicago Tribune

“Fascinating . . . wholly absorbing . . . conveys Trump’s larger-than-life demeanor so vibrantly that the reader’s attention is instantly and fully claimed.” —Boston Herald

“A chatty, generous, chutzpa-filled autobiography.” —New York Post

作者简介

Donald J. Trump is the forty-fifth president of the United States. He is the very definition of the American success story, continually setting standards of excellence while expanding his interests in real estate, gaming, sports, and entertainment. He was named the Hotel and Real Estate Visionary of the Century by the UJA Federation. Trump is the New York Times bestselling author of many books, including Time to Get Tough, The America We Deserve, Think Like a Billionaire, How to Get Rich, Surviving at the Top, The Art of the Comeback, and The Art of the Deal . These books have sold millions of copies. An ardent philanthropist, Trump is involved with numerous civic and charitable organizations.

文摘

DEALING

A Week in the Life

IDON’T do it for the money. I’ve got enough, much more than I’ll ever need. I do it to do it. Deals are my art form. Other people paint beautifully on canvas or write wonderful poetry. I like making deals, preferably big deals. That’s how I get my kicks.

Most people are surprised by the way I work. I play it very loose. I don’t carry a briefcase. I try not to schedule too many meetings. I leave my door open. You can’t be imaginative or entrepreneurial if you’ve got too much structure. I prefer to come to work each day and just see what develops.

There is no typical week in my life. I wake up most mornings very early, around six, and spend the first hour or so of each day reading the morning newspapers. I usually arrive at my office by nine, and I get on the phone. There’s rarely a day with fewer than fifty calls, and often it runs to over a hundred. In between, I have at least a dozen meetings. The majority occur on the spur of the moment, and few of them last longer than fifteen minutes. I rarely stop for lunch. I leave my office by six-thirty, but I frequently make calls from home until midnight, and all weekend long.

It never stops, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I try to learn from the past, but I plan for the future by focusing exclusively on the present. That’s where the fun is. And if it can’t be fun, what’s the point?

MONDAY

9:00 A.M.   My first call is to Alan (“Ace”) Greenberg, on the trading floor of Bear Sterns, a major Wall Street investment banking firm. Alan is the CEO of Bear Sterns, he’s been my investment banker for the past five years, and he’s the best there is. Two weeks ago, we began buying stock in Holiday Inns. It was selling in the 50s. As of this morning, Alan tells me, I own just over one million shares, or slightly more than 4 percent of the company. The stock closed Friday at $65 a share, mostly, Alan says, because word is out on the street that I’ve been a big buyer, and there’s speculation I am planning a run at the company.

The truth is I’m keeping my options open. I may ultimately go for control of Holiday, which I think is somewhat undervalued. At the current stock price, I could get control for less than $2 billion. Holiday’s three casino-hotels could be worth nearly that much—and the company owns another 300,000 hotel rooms besides.

A second option, if the stock price goes high enough, is to sell my stake and take a very nice profit. If I did that today, I’d already be up about $7 million. The third possibility is that Holiday may eventually offer to buy back my shares, at a premium, simply to get rid of me. If the premium is big enough, I’ll sell.

In any case, I enjoy seeing the lengths to which bad managements go to preserve what they call their independence—which really just means their jobs.

9:30 A.M.   Abraham Hirschfeld calls me, looking for advice. Abe is a successful real estate developer but he wants to be a politician. Unfortunately for Abe, he’s a far better developer than politician.

This fall, Abe tried to run for lieutenant governor against Governor Cuomo’s hand-picked candidate, Stan Lundine. Cuomo led a court fight to get Hirschfeld off the ballot on technical grounds, and sure enough, halfway into the campaign, the court ruled Hirschfeld out. Abe knows I’m friendly with the governor, and he wants my advice now on whether he should endorse Cuomo or switch parties and endorse Cuomo’s opponent. I tell him it’s a no-contest question—stick with a winner and a good guy at that.

We set a meeting for Thursday.

10:00 A.M.   I call Don Imus to thank him. Imus has one of the most successful radio shows in the United States on WNBC, and he’s been helping to raise money for the Annabel Hill fund.
I’m amazed at how this has snowballed into such a media event. It began last week when I saw a national news report by Tom Brokaw about this adorable little lady from Georgia, Mrs. Hill, who was trying to save her farm from being foreclosed. Her sixty-seven-year-old husband had committed suicide a few weeks earlier, hoping his life insurance would save the farm, which had been in the family for generations. But the insurance proceeds weren’t nearly enough. It was a very sad situation, and I was moved. Here were people who’d worked very hard and honestly all their lives, only to see it all crumble before them. To me, it just seemed wrong.

Through NBC I was put in touch with a wonderful guy from Georgia named Frank Argenbright, who’d become very involved in trying to help Mrs. Hill. Frank directed me to the bank that held Mrs. Hill’s mortgage. The next morning, I called and got some vice president on the line. I explained that I was a businessman from New York, and that I was interested in helping Mrs. Hill. He told me he was sorry, but that it was too late. They were going to auction off the farm, he said, and “nothing or no one is going to stop it.”

That really got me going. I said to the guy: “You listen to me. If you do foreclose, I’ll personally bring a lawsuit for murder against you and your bank, on the grounds that you harassed Mrs. Hill’s husband to his death.” All of a sudden the bank officer sounded very nervous and said he’d get right back to me.

Sometimes it pays to be a little wild. An hour later I got a call back from the banker, and he said, “Don’t worry, we’re going to work it out, Mr. Tramp.” Mrs. Hill and Frank Argenbright told the media, and the next thing I knew, it was the lead story on the network news.

By the end of the week, we’d raised $40,000. Imus alone raised almost $20,000 by appealing to his listeners. As a Christmas present to Mrs. Hill and her family, we’ve scheduled a mortgage-burning ceremony for Christmas Eve in the atrium of Trump Tower. By then, I’m confident, we’ll have raised all the money. I’ve promised Mrs. Hill that if we haven’t, I’ll make up any difference.

I tell Imus he’s the greatest, and I invite him to be my guest one day next week at the tennis matches at the U.S. Open. I have a courtside box and I used to go myself almost every day. Now I’m so busy I mostly just send my friends.

11:15 A.M.   Harry Usher, the commissioner of the United States Football League, calls. Last month, the jury in the antitrust suit we brought against the National Football League ruled that the NFL was a monopoly, but awarded us only token damages of one dollar. I’ve already let the better players on my team, the New Jersey Generals, sign with the NFL. But the ruling was ridiculous.

We argue about the approach we should take. I want to be more aggressive. “What worries me,” I say to Harry, “is that no one is pushing hard enough on an appeal.”

12:00 noon Gerry Schoenfeld, head of the Shubert Organization, the biggest Broadway theater owners, calls to recommend a woman for a job as an office administrator. He tells me the woman specifically wants to work for Donald Trump, and I say she’s crazy but I’ll be happy to see her.

We talk a little about the theater business, and I tell Gerry I’m about to take my kids to see Cats, one of his shows, for a second time. He asks if I’m getting my tickets through his office. I tell him that I don’t like to do that sort of thing. “Don’t be silly,” he says. “We have a woman here whose job it is to handle tickets for our friends. Here’s her number. Don’t hesitate to call.”

It’s a nice gesture from a very nice guy.

1:15 P.M.   Anthony Gliedman stops by to discuss the Wollman Rink project. Gliedman was housing commissioner under Ed Koch. At the time we fought a lot, and even though I ended up beating him in court, I always thought he was bright. I don’t hold it against people that they have opposed me.

I’m just looking to hire the best talent, wherever I can find it.

Tony has been helping to coordinate the rebuilding of the Wollman Skating Rink in Central Park, a project the city failed at so miserably for seven years. In June I offered to do the job myself. Now we’re ahead of schedule, and Tony tells me that he’s set up a press conference for Thursday to celebrate the last important step in construction: pouring the concrete.

It doesn’t sound like much of a news event to me, and I ask him if anyone is likely to show up. He says at least a dozen news organizations have RSVPd yes. So much for my news judgment.