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| Chris Haston/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images; Alfred Gescheidt/Getty Images; Rebecca Zisser/BI |
For nearly a decade, Marcus Lemonis was celebrated as a television icon for entrepreneurs, the star of CNBC’s The Profit, where he stepped in as a no-nonsense investor determined to rescue struggling businesses across America. With a direct style, millions of dollars on the line, and a camera crew documenting every interaction, Lemonis built a public image as a savior of small business part mogul, part mentor.
But behind the sleek production, dramatic negotiations, and promises of transformation, a far more complex and in many cases, painful story was unfolding. While the show entertained audiences and bolstered ratings, for many of the business owners who appeared on The Profit, the experience was anything but empowering. Dozens would later allege that the reality behind reality TV was far darker than viewers imagined, filled with broken promises, financial distress, and emotional collapse.
Today, Lemonis is back on the screen with a new show on FOX called The Fixer. But the shadow of The Profit and the legal wreckage it left behind continues to loom large.
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| Lemonis, 51, got his start selling cars and hustling RVs. Heidi Gutman/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images |
The Rise of The Profit: A TV Formula Built on Struggle and Control
When The Profit first aired in 2013, it seemed like a breath of fresh air for business television. While shows like Shark Tank highlighted glamorous deals and winning ideas, The Profit went where most didn’t dare: into the broken, faltering, messy heart of small business reality. Lemonis offered not just capital, but complete control declaring himself "100% in charge" of the businesses he invested in.
The format was compelling. Lemonis would visit a failing business, diagnose its flaws, offer capital often in the six- or seven-figure range and take an equity stake in exchange for full operational control. With high-stakes negotiations and real-time makeovers, the show struck a chord with both viewers and business owners desperate for a turnaround.
By 2016, The Profit was CNBC’s most-watched original series, with nearly 2 million viewers tuning in for its highest-rated episodes. Lemonis was praised as a bold, no-excuses capitalist who mixed tough love with business acumen. But as the seasons went on and the stories piled up, a different narrative began to surface.
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| "The Profit" ran from 2013 to 2021. Virginia Sherwood/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images |
The Cracks Begin to Show: Lawsuits, Settlements, and Accusations
What looked like salvation on TV was, for many entrepreneurs, the beginning of a painful ordeal. Of the roughly 100 companies that appeared on The Profit, over 50 ended up in legal disputes with Lemonis, NBCUniversal, or the show’s producers. The complaints ranged from breach of contract and fraud to emotional distress and financial devastation.
In 2021, in a move that had not been previously reported until recently, NBCUniversal and Lemonis quietly settled with 40 of those companies, paying out a total of $11 million, or approximately $275,000 per business. The settlement included mutual non-disparagement agreements, sealing the terms in silence.
Despite the settlement, Lemonis has denied all allegations of wrongdoing. “I know I didn’t do anything wrong,” he told Truth Sider. “I sleep at night very well.” Lemonis maintains that he invested his own money, and that he never profited from the businesses he attempted to help.
But the paper trail tells a more complicated story. Multiple lawsuits accused him of using “prop” checks on camera that were never cashed, loading businesses with debt they couldn't handle, and then stepping away once the cameras stopped rolling. One such lawsuit from a Pennsylvania restaurant franchise claimed that the $350,000 check Lemonis handed them during filming was later taken back and that the promised investment never materialized.
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| Lemonis appeared with a denim business in one of the show's episode. Scott Legato/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images |
Emotional Collateral: The Human Cost of Reality TV
Perhaps more disturbing than the financial losses was the psychological impact on the entrepreneurs involved. As part of the 2021 settlement negotiations, psychiatrist Dr. Stephen Marmer interviewed 48 business owners or their family members. His findings were harrowing: several described suicidal thoughts, and many reported symptoms of PTSD, humiliation, and emotional breakdowns.
According to Marmer’s report, “Most of them will need ongoing treatment to recover from the PTSD and gaslighting they experienced.” For some, the experience shattered their confidence, destroyed relationships, and left them alienated from partners and staff. The show that promised revival often delivered public embarrassment.
These were not just “bad businesspeople” who couldn’t be helped. Many of the entrepreneurs had growing businesses, meaningful customer bases, and a passion for their craft. What they didn’t expect was the power dynamic that reality television would create one where editing, branding decisions, and narrative arcs were often beyond their control.
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| Lemonis and Steve Weissmann. Thomas Cooper/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images |
Winners and Losers: A Tale of Two Profits
Not every Profit story ended in disaster. Mike Anderson, who co-owns a screen-printing company, said his business grew tenfold after appearing on the show. Ana Quincoces, a former Real Housewives star and entrepreneur, described her post-show relationship with Lemonis as fruitful and ongoing. Some entrepreneurs gained exposure, refined their operations, and benefited from Lemonis’s intervention.
But the success stories were overshadowed by more frequent tales of collapse. Tumbleweed Tiny House Company filed for bankruptcy less than three years after its episode aired. Its founder, Steve Weissmann, later faced a $14.4 million arbitration ruling after a complex legal battle with Lemonis and NBCUniversal.
In another case, the owners of Bowery Kitchen Supplies alleged that they were left deep in debt and inventory loss after Lemonis’ interventions again claiming the on-air investment was never delivered. Their case, like many others, was resolved through the 2021 settlement.
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| Weissmann's company declared bankruptcy in 2020. Thomas Cooper/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images |
Ethical Boundaries in Business Entertainment
As the dust settled from The Profit, questions lingered: Where should the line be drawn between entertainment and business intervention? Can a television show really offer meaningful help when dramatic arcs, episode runtimes, and viewer ratings are part of the equation?
Critics argue that shows like The Profit can exploit vulnerability, capitalizing on entrepreneurs’ desperation in exchange for spectacle. The contracts signed by participants gave Lemonis and producers wide latitude over how deals were structured and edited. For some, agreeing to appear on the show meant relinquishing not only control over their business but also over their public image.
“We were diminished in a way we never deserved to be,” Weissmann told Truth Sider. “I was made to look like an idiot.”
For the networks involved, the risks were worth it until the legal costs and reputational damage began to mount.
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| Lemonis's new show, "The Fixer," has a premise similar to that of "The Profit." Thomas Cooper/CNBC/NBCU Photo Bank/NBCUniversal via Getty Images |
The Return of Marcus Lemonis: The Fixer on FOX
Despite the controversy, Marcus Lemonis has returned to television with The Fixer, a new reality show on FOX that mirrors much of The Profit’s original format. Once again, he steps in to overhaul businesses at a crossroads, promising capital, guidance, and a second chance.
During its double-episode premiere, Lemonis was unapologetic. “I’m not a consultant. I don’t believe in handouts. I’m a capitalist.” It's a bold statement and one that signals no change in tone or approach.
Fox has declined to comment on why it chose to bring Lemonis back despite the past controversies, but the move suggests that audience appetite for business transformation stories remains strong even if the human cost is high.
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| Lemonis during a 2015 event with AOL. John Lamparski/WireImage |
Trust, Transparency, and the Price of the Spotlight
The story of The Profit and Marcus Lemonis is more than a tale of one man or one show. It’s a reflection of a larger cultural moment where real-life business struggles become reality television, where financial trauma can be edited for drama, and where entrepreneurs, desperate for help, risk becoming entertainment fodder.
It also serves as a warning: media-savvy moguls and production companies wield enormous power when the camera starts rolling. Without adequate safeguards, transparency, and post-show support, the consequences can be devastating.
As Lemonis continues his next act, The Fixer may offer redemption or it may reignite the very same dynamics that caused so many to suffer. Either way, the story of The Profit stands as a reminder that in the world of televised capitalism, the line between help and harm is perilously thin.
