Donald Trump became a business and media personality over the course of the late 20th and early 21st century through high profile endeavours like the Trump Taj Mahal Casino in Atlantic City and his TV Show, The Apprentice, respectively. Trump excelled at marketing himself, licensing his name and likeness to dozens of products and buildings over the decades and saying or doing outlandish things that attracted the public’s attention in the tabloids. Despite several bankruptcies and other shortcomings, Trump’s name was resiliently synonymous with success, and he was highly skilled at reinventing himself every time he failed in an endeavor, moving quickly to publicize how his next project would be the biggest of them all.

As Dorothy Wickenden acknowledged, Trump intelligently took advantage of the new wave of media culture through his appearances on The Apprentice. He created a virtuous cycle for himself by leveraging his fame to first attract viewers to the show, and then kept them hooked with his overdramatized behavior and catchlines, the most famous of all being, “You’re Fired.” Trump was able to paint an image of himself as not only being highly successful, but also as a strongman boss with steely determination and decisiveness. In the background, the show’s producers grappled with his impulsivity and edited extensively to clean up and rationalize his choices. The Apprentice offered a look into Trump’s gold-clad homes and offices, his well-educated family, and was ultimately the exemplification of Kendall’s emulation frame of wealth.

Trump long toyed with the idea of running for the Presidency throughout his career, but many considered his thinking aloud to just be another publicity stunt. He would regularly identify as a Democrat and long supported Democratic candidates and causes when he lived in New York, a bastion of liberalism, even claiming that Democrats were better for the economy than Republicans. Trump honed talking to the media and was never far away from attention.

However, Trump’s liberal positions began to change when former President Obama took office in 2009. He helped lead the charge of the “Birther” movement, which emanated from an ultra-conservative conspiracy theory that Obama was not in fact born in the US, therefore disqualifying him from being president (which is not an accurate interpretation of the natural-born citizen requirement for the presidency). The movement was seen as having racial undertones given Obama’s background, and led to Trump being ridiculed by comedian Seth Meyers at the 2011 White House Correspondent’s Dinner. While liberals considered him a joke, the “Birther” movement was his first step towards garnering ultra-conservatives’ attention, and eventually, support. He began getting invited onto Fox News and befriended the likes of Steve Bannon, his future White House chief strategist, and a man credited with helping him secure the Republican nomination by bringing new constituencies (particularly, fringe groups) to the voting booth. Bannon, a renowned conspiracy theorist himself, brought Trump closer to the alt-right publication he ran, Breitbart, expanding Trump’s reach into the most conservative part of the Republican Party.

When Trump announced his Presidential bid in 2015, he was buoyed in the early polls by a base of ultra-conservatives who knew him as their champion from the “Birther” movement and regular people who knew him as a successful businessman from The Apprentice. But how was he able to appeal and relate to the white-working class voters that took him to the White House when he himself was so wealthy and up on a pedestal?

Trump made headlines in the primaries by failing to comply with politically correct statements that were adopted by mainstream Democrats and Republicans alike. He made a point of saying “Merry Christmas” and derided those who made use of the ostensibly more palatable “Happy Holidays.” Claire Galofaro claims that these statements, in addition to the cult of personality he developed over the years, appealed to voters living in Appalachia in particular. Galoforo argued that these individuals, who were mainly white, middle-class, religious, and middle-aged-to-elderly, felt that their way of life was under threat, seeing the immigrant and POC population growing rapidly, their jobs lost, and gay marriage become the law of the land. Trump was thought of as a counter-shock to these seemingly worrisome societal changes, people who felt they were losing the America they knew and loved.

Part of Trump’s personality appeal to voters also came from his ability to distance himself from the so-called “elite” and “establishment” despite his own personal wealth and prior closeness to the establishment. He spoke about politics like a sport, ready to pounce on his next opponent when they got in his way, and pushed back against white working-class people who were labelled as “racist, sexist, homophobic” and more by the mainstream media for their views, the people Hilary Clinton referred to as “deplorables.” Trump didn’t speak like other politicians, he spoke like the people who supported him, even though he was several billion dollars wealthier than them.

Much of Trump’s Appalachia backing comes from his extensive expression of support for the coal mining industry.  Through advocating for coal as the pathway to economic success, Trump opposed Hillary Clinton’s rejection of the industry. Being a region practically defined by coal mining that had seen jobs in the industry decline precipitously over the past 30 years, this support skyrocketed Trump’s appeal among Appalachians (Peters, 2017; Wilkey, 2017).

In contrast with other politicians who Americans living in Appalachia had perceived as neglectful of its existence, Trump constructed himself as an advocate for the region: one who actually “listens” to the people and what they need (coal).  Through this self-manifestation as somewhat of a saviour, along with a troublesome Appalachian political history of neglect, Trump has been able to gain Appalachia’s allegiance in spite of his otherwise problematic standpoints. Trump went about supporting the coal industry by scaling back a number of Obama-era environmental protections and by abandoning the Paris Climate Accords. Neither of these actions, however, can reverse what is a systemic departure from coal as a viable energy source worldwide, and will only slow the death of a capitulating industry (Peters, 2017; Wilkey, 2017).

Additionally, rather than coming from true passion for Trump as a candidate himself, a significant portion of Trump’s support in Appalachia has derived from the region’s frustration and dissatisfaction with both political parties. Though Trump affiliates with the Republican Party, his views and actions defy much of both parties’ norms: a quality appealing to predominantly “fed-up” Appalachians (Peters, 2017; Wilkey, 2017).

“He [Trump] disrupts a broken political process and beats establishment candidates who’ve long ignored their [Appalachians’] interests.”

Reporter, Michael Cooper

This straying from the norms is well exampled by the withdrawal from the Trans-Pacific Partnership, a landmark free trade agreement between 12 Pacific Rim countries (inclusive of the US) that called for elimination of close to 100% of tariffs between those countries. Backing out of this regional trade agreement was sold to the American public as an initiative through which the US could look after its own interests first and negotiate more favourable bilateral agreements that prioritised American job security, even though it had bilateral support through congress. To Trump’s credit, he brought consensus issues like protecting American industry and jobs and the rampant intellectual property violations of China to the front of the American political discussion, and transformed the conduct of normal politicians into making these issues worse, rather than solving them. The way that he has gone about trying to remedy these problems, however, by tearing apart the TPP and engaging in a trade war with China, have yielded more mixed results. Trump’s base of supporters remains behind him, evidenced by his approval rating never descending below 35%. He has done a tremendous job of selling his personality and policies to the extent that he was elected in 2016, but the true effects of the implementation of these policies remains to be seen.

Summarily, Trump is able to use Kendall’s emulation frame to appeal to white, working-class voters. He has adeptly established a public reputation of being highly successful while remaining relatable to regular people by railing against the “elite” and claiming he is just like the people who are voting for him. Trump has positioned himself as a man who made his way into the ranks of the insiders that now seeks to make their system implode after being disgusted by what he saw, the same disgust the people who voted for him hold. He speaks like them, dislikes the same things as them, and ultimately, galvanized them to vote for him.