Much of America met Donald Trump for the first time in 1980. Speaking with Tom Brokaw on NBC, he appeared—perhaps for the only time—radically different from the man we now know. At the end of the interview, Brokaw asked a final question: "What's left in your life? You're 33 years old. You're worth all this money. You say you didn't...want to be worth a billion dollars." Trump responded in a surprisingly modest fashion: "No, I really don't. I just wanna keep busy and keep active, and be interested in what I want to do...and that's all there is to life as far as I'm concerned. I really am not looking to make tremendous amounts of money. I'm looking to enjoy my life, and if that happens to go with it that's fabulous." 

What a difference a few years can make. By 1984 GQ published "The Secret to Donald Trump's Success" and introduced us to a very different man. "To the gray world of New York real estate, ruled for so long by the Tishmans, the Fishers, the Rudins, the LeFraks, and now the Reichmanns, Trump has infused a brand of freewheeling self-aggrandizement not seen since the days of the late, great Bill Zeckendorf." The Trump name was splashed across buildings, magazines, and newspapers, and he swaggered through the city with a confidence and arrogance that are now so familiar. The hallmarks of the eventual President Trump had emerged: a self-professed and dubious love for the little guy, an overwhelming pride in his wealth, and an obsession with "winning." 

"The camera loves a good story. It doesn’t care if it’s true." Conrad Brean's axiom had come to life as Trump discovered a love of the public eye, constantly seeking to have people pay attention to him. More importantly, he was more than willing to manipulate the media to make it happen, including to cover up his own shortcomings. In 1987 he (or more appropriately Tony Schwartz) gave us his playbook for this in The Art of the Deal, describing his life and his business philosophy. We should have paid better attention all those years ago. As a profile on Trump expressed a few months later, "the book is not the portrait of a man and his work. It’s much too smart for that. It is a weapon in the continuing public relations war that is Donald Trump’s way of doing business." (The New Republic: "The Triumph of Trumpery")

He had learned that exploiting the news was all that mattered in achieving his goals, or at least creating the illusion that he was achieving them through a bit of sensationalism. Whether or not something was true—including his claim of wild success as a businessman—was irrelevant.

Despite Trump's current antagonistic relationship with the media, he continued to embrace it throughout his career from that point onward, frequently connecting with journalists and publishers, often personally rather than through assistants. Even then, the wild claims came like a machine gun: "'Hey, I’ve got my name on half the major buildings in New York,' he said. 'I went to the Wharton School of Finance, which is the No. 1 school. I’m intelligent. Some people would say I’m very, very, very intelligent.' Plus, he had written three best-selling books. 'Not bestsellers,' Trump clarified. 'No. 1 bestsellers.' Another thought occurred to him: 'You know I am the highest-paid speaker in the country?'" (Fortune: “What Does Donald Trump Really Want?”) Every turn of phrase and every boast served the same purpose: creating the legend of Trump.

As Conrad Brean put it "What difference does it make if it's true? If it's a story and it breaks, they're gonna run with it." Or maybe it was Trump who said that… The fact that you can’t know for certain who is lying through their teeth is the problem.

By the turn of the century, Trump had become a household name, especially when The Apprentice launched in 2004. Inflated by the success of the series, he continued to appear in interviews and articles, always proudly describing his success and pointing to the fact that "nobody had better ratings than me" as he bragged on a 2006 episode of The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Even now, decades later, Trump is proud of his ability to manipulate the media and keep himself in the headlines. In fact, he becomes downright combative if you suggest that he’s not the best, the biggest, and the most popular name in the news. True to his roots, he’ll spin a new story if challenged and claim that your information is "fake news." Does "stop hiding behind those phony numbers" sound familiar? 

We also know Trump has a thin skin, sometimes making his frequent mention of "unbelievable numbers" less malevolent and more comedic. As with Wes Mantooth, the absurdity makes it hard to take the insults, bluster, and effusive self-praise seriously, even though both men are wholly earnest in their own farcical way. Just don’t talk to Mantooth about his mother or to Trump about his ratings. Of course, being a public figure means that you'll inevitably have some people doing exactly that. The result predictably escalated what would be a small moment of discomfort for most into something far bigger.

When 2011 rolled around, Trump's media appearances continued to expand, and he was invited to become a reccurring guest on Fox & Friends. The topics ranged from his businesses and show to culture and politics, and he used the platform to again brag about his numbers while also pushing his unsurprisingly sensational views on the country's leaders, including Barack Obama. Among his frequent talking points was the birther conspiracy, a claim that Obama was born outside the United States and therefore had never been eligible for president. (Los Angeles Times: "Donald Trump to join ‘Fox and Friends’ on Mondays")

That same year Obama pushed back. At the annual White House Correspondents' Dinner, he unleashed a series of light-hearted jabs at Trump, followed by more from comedian Seth Meyers. The moment that now feels imprinted in history occurred as Meyers roasted each potential 2012 candidate before reaching Trump: "Donald Trump has been saying that he will run for president as a Republican, which is surprising since I just assumed he was running as a joke." Trump's face made his feelings clear. "With cameras aimed at him, Trump smiled at Obama’s jokes and waved at the crowd. His response to Meyers was less lighthearted: As the comedian hammered him, the billionaire didn’t crack a smile." (The Washington Post: "I sat next to Donald Trump at the infamous 2011 White House correspondents’ dinner")

Wes Mantooth couldn't stand to be challenged on his ratings, and his mother was sacrosanct. Trump shares that sensitivity, but the fragility of his ego outstrips Mantooth by far. Everything must be the biggest and best: his numbers, his buildings, his public image, and especially his bank account. This is after all a man who adopted a fake name and accent as an anonymous "source" to praise and embellish his own wealth. (The Washington Post: "Trump lied to me about his wealth to get onto the Forbes 400. Here are the tapes.") If there’s one thing he loves more than his public image and ratings, it’s his money, a fact he howls about incessantly. 

What does Trump gain by fabricating and then voraciously defending such absurd claims? Well, he once again told us himself…repeatedly: it’s all about the money. Greed, greed, greed, greed. We all know that Jordan Belfort, the villain of The Wolf of Wall Street, wasn’t just a character on the screen. He’s a real person, and he and Trump share origin stories. They’re New Yorkers, born and raised, and earned a reputation for their wild cash and sex-fueled lifestyles. Both also adopted highly questionable business practices in the process, gaining more and more money through tactics that launched numerous investigations, accusations, and lawsuits.

That freewheeling lifestyle defined much of Trump's career through the 1980s. Four years after his appearance on NBC with Tom Brokaw, "The Expanding Empire of Donald Trump" appeared in The New York Times Magazine. Frenetic in pace, it echoed his life at that point, bouncing from descriptions of loud gatherings with politicians and celebrities to shouting pedestrians and busy traffic on the streets of the city to board rooms and business deals sealed with a handshake. It captured all the excitement of the Reagan Boom, a period of deregulation and tax cuts that enriched men like Trump. What we now know, many years later, is that behind that expanding empire were connections to organized crime, legal violations, and claims of fraud. (The Washington Post: "Fifty years of investigations on Trump, visualized")

Trump became obsessed with being the biggest name in New York City, and he focused all of his boundless energy on achieving that. Greed like that is an addiction, and it’s hard to overcome. It shapes everything else in your life, and you find yourself making more and more questionable decisions—and spinning more and more lies—until they define you. Belfort arguably never rid himself of those compulsions even after being arrested and convicted. (Mic: "If You Think 'The Wolf of Wall Street' Jordan Belfort Has Learned His Lesson, You’re Wrong"). Trump wants you to think he did, that he can control the base urges that he embraced for so many years and “be greedy for our country.”

The problem is that greed rarely benefits anyone other than yourself, and no amount of spin will change that, especially when you’re even willing to siphon funds from your own charity, the Trump Foundation, for personal benefit like a slick televangelist. (The Washington Post: "Trump boasts about his philanthropy. But his giving falls short of his words.") Incidentally, that is one of many cases that ended in a settlement, and true to form the Trump Organization claimed—not just without evidence but against the existing evidence—that "every penny ever raised by the Trump Foundation has gone to help those most in need."

Another early article from 1983, "The Empire and Ego of Donald Trump" (The New York Times) includes a mention of a notable figure, one who offers praise that sounds positively ironic now given what we know about Trump's lifestyle and his business practices: "[Trump's] pastor, the Rev. Norman Vincent Peale of New York, avowed that he is ''kindly and courteous in certain business negotiations and has a profound streak of honest humility.'' The author of the immensely popular book The Power of Positive Thinking, Peale's work has long been criticized for its questionable claims and lack of evidence, as has his own attraction to the wealthy and powerful. 

As detailed in "Why the controversial book 'Power of Positive Thinking' is still so popular after 70 years" (Big Think), Peale "was most at home among business elites and corporate climbers. Caliandro remembered an elderly Peale’s attraction to Donald Trump upon first seeing the real-estate magnate on television. Peale was always 'very impressed with successful people' and self-promoters, Caliandro recalled. 'That was a weakness.'" No one promoted himself better than the young Trump, and he took Peale's message of self-belief to an extreme, merging it with the tenets of the modern prosperity gospel and a very unhealthy dash of ego. Wealth and power had become his guiding stars, and he preached them to the masses.

That attempt to twist the narrative, however outlandish or unbelievable the claims may be, rests at the heart of Trump’s approach to life, both the personal and professional. He claims the exaggerations are harmless, that he’s just giving people what they want. But as in The Righteous Gemstones, the fabrications and manipulation have a very tangible purpose: building up his own wealth and brand. It’s not “a little hyperbole.” It’s not honest work. It’s not building up others. It’s lies, greed, and grifting.

Like the Gemstones, the Trump family sees the "commoners" of the world in a singular way: the means to an end. "My father’s a businessman. When he thrives, all of us thrive," claimed Ivanka Trump. The problem is that Trump growing his wealth doesn’t benefit everyone, and it never has; it’s a family business with the singular goal of enriching them. "Your entire ministry is set up to serve the Gemstones. You should be ashamed of yourself," Eli is rebuked in the show. His response? "Well, I ain’t." Shame plays no part in Peale's teachings either, and it certainly doesn't for Donald Trump.

On the contrary, he has been just as clear about his own mistakes, regrets, and sins: "I don't like to have to ask for forgiveness…I don't bring God into that picture. I don't." (Business Insider: "Trump on God: 'I don't like to have to ask for forgiveness'") After all, why sing out for forgiveness if you can do practically anything without consequences?

This tale of a young, successful Donald Trump—largely his own imaginative fable of self-made wealth and power, embossed with plenty of hyperbole—is what led to the first Trump presidency. When Trump's carefully crafted image cracked from the the jokes he endured in 2011, it marked a turning point for him. Though he himself disputes the claim, it became the moment he set his eyes on the presidency more seriously, determined to prove Obama wrong. Roger Stone, one of Trump's campaign advisors, admitted as much: "I think that is the night he resolves to run for president. I think that he is kind of motivated by it: ‘Maybe I’ll just run. Maybe I’ll show them all." (PBS: "WATCH: Inside the Night President Obama Took On Donald Trump")

A fragile ego, a quickness to anger, and an intolerance for any perceived disrespect: the parallels to The Sopranos are hard to ignore, particularly eight years later as we welcome new faces to the family. America fell in love with Tony Soprano, a protagonist who ultimately represents anything but a hero. Tony, like every other person, retained some positive qualities that formed the basis for justifying his actions. He loved his family and valued loyalty, both also true of Trump. But the two men frequently reveal darker facets of their personalities, especially when challenged: the short tempers, intolerance for dissension, insults and threats hidden as sarcasm, and an openness to violence as a tool. Even if you support Trump now, you know that much is true.

The Sopranos signaled a turning point in television, one that romanticized its awful characters. The 2016 campaign did the same for Trump. In fact, many embraced the fantasy so much, fervently wanting to believe in this antihero, that it no longer mattered how crass, vile, or despicable he could be. It was all part of the show. Again and again controversies arose, moments that everyone predicted would end his campaign for good and relegate him to the ashes of history: mocking a disabled reporter, attacking John McCain and the parents of a war hero, claiming that Mexico was sending drugs and rapists, and insulting dozens of critics and opponents. (Politico: "16 insults that redefined acceptable political rhetoric") Trump defied those expectations every time until he openly "joked" that he could commit murder without consequence.

By the end of The Sopranos, Tony had embraced his role as the villain, a role that resulted in the deaths of dozens of people, including innocents. Trump flourished as the thug among the traditional, prim politicians he faced. The similarities weren’t enough to deter voters, as they believed that the man they cast their votes for could turn everything he touched into gold.

Trump’s supporters overlooked his many flaws because they reasoned that they were electing a successful businessman, someone with no ties to the ruling elite. The truth is far muddier. Much of his wealth was not built through ingenuity or personal perseverance. It directly resulted from unbridled nepotism: inheriting a fortune and building it further by evading regulations and exploiting loopholes: "Mr. Trump received the equivalent today of at least $413 million from his father’s real estate empire, starting when he was a toddler and continuing to this day." (The New York Times: “Trump Engaged in Suspect Tax Schemes as He Reaped Riches From His Father”). Even more telling is a Forbes report revealing that the fortune would have been significantly larger had he simply invested it (“It’s Official: Trump Would Be Richer If He Had Just Invested His Inheritance Into The S&P 500.”)

Surprisingly, the classic Bond villain Goldfinger didn’t amass his fortune by robbing banks or holding countries ransom either. He smuggled gold across borders, benefiting from exchange rate differences and legal loopholes as well, all hidden behind a legitimate business front. Only then did he launch his odious plan to irradiate the country’s gold supply to further enrich the value of his own stockpile. Between the glossy features and glamorous photos in the tabloids, the clues appeared in Trump's empire as well. 

A union filed a lawsuit when illegal workers were hired to demolish a building on the future site of Trump Tower (The New York Times: "Trump Says He Didn't Know He Employed Illegal Aliens") The Federal Trade Commission imposed a $750,000 fine  when he settled a claim of disclosure violations. (The New York Times: "Trump to Pay $750,000 Fine") Trump even engaged in a two-year legal feud with partners over his refusal to pay for agreed renovation costs. (The New York Times: "COMPANY NEWS; Trump Agrees To End Feud Over Hotel") Again and again through the years, different stories continued to be released, often buried in The New York Times or noted in business publications. Each and every one shared a few commonalities, including settlements that enabled Trump to avoid admitting any wrongdoing, claims of ignorance, and retaliatory accusations.

Goldfinger captured the philosophy in just six words: "The game is worth the candle." Put aside the Bond villain's envy, arrogance, and lack of compassion. The parallels are still there: greed, dishonesty, ruthlessness…even a propensity to cheat at golf. But as the real "Joe" Bond said, "If you cheat, you will be the loser because you are cheating yourself." (ParGolf: "How Goldfinger got Sean Connery addicted to golf")

Speaking of golf, it’s hard not to think back to the comedy classic Happy Gilmore and its snobbish villain Shooter McGavin. An obsession with how people perceive him? Check. Insecurity over his own performance? Check. A willingness to use underhanded tactics to win? Check. Anger over anyone else succeeding other than him? Check. 

Trump takes tremendous pride in his success as a golfer, claiming to be among the best in the world. Yes, like so many other aspects of his life, his exploits are largely based in lies. Dozens upon dozens of colleagues, friends, and celebrities who have played a round with him all confirm the same thing: he just can’t stop himself from cheating. But why cheat at a simple game of all things and then lie about it? The answer is equally simple: “Because he has to…He can’t stand not winning, not being the best.” (Golf: “How and why President Trump cheats at golf — even when he’s playing against Tiger Woods”) Switching balls, fudging numbers, and sending his caddy to do the dirty work amount to expected tactics in a match against Trump.

Contrary to what some may think, that matters. A character flaw so strong, so deep, will inevitably impact every other aspect of a person's personality and their actions. "Character matters in sports because we change through sport. If we care about the kinds of people we are in general, it is important to examine whether we are being formed constructively... Character matters because how we do things changes the nature of what we do." (Psychology Today: "Why Character Matters in Sports")

We instinctively condemn athletes when we discover they've used performance enhancing drugs or bent the rules precisely because of the deeper connotations of their actions. It reveals an aspect of their inner being—their moral grounding and willingness to follow ethical standards. By choosing to take shortcuts rather than put in the effort necessary to improve and succeed, they raise wider questions about their integrity outside of the game.

Shooter McGavin didn't simply cheat. He lied, manipulated, and attacked others, all while maintaining an arrogant and ruthless approach on and off the green. Perpetuated over time, cheating evolves to an entirely different system of values, one that inhibits normal, healthy interactions with others and creates a grossly inflated sense of self-worth. But in Trump’s mind, he’s a pure paragon, a specimen of manliness.

If you found yourself humming while you read those last words, there’s a good reason why. Yes, we’ve entered Disney villain territory. Trump’s deeply ingrained desire to be praised and admired extends even to his looks and physical prowess. As silly as it sounds, he really wants us to believe he’s “hot.” You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of an obese 78-year-old man expounding upon his looks, musing whether or not he’s now more attractive than he once was.

Gaston starts off as a dim-witted joke, a boorish lout confused by a book without pictures and obsessed with his appearance, strength, and how others perceive him. It’s all strikingly familiar but harmless, isn’t it? That argument could be made except for the fact that his vanity masks the host of other flaws: arrogance, sexism, entitlement, anger, and a blatant denial that others could dislike or disagree with him. 

Trump’s staff frequently cite his moody anger and, eager to please their boss, provide carefully selected numbers and effusive stories with flair to keep him happy. (Business Insider: "Trump reportedly gets a folder full of 'admiring tweets' and pictures of him 'looking powerful' twice a day") A cheerful musical number similarly blankets a pouting Gaston with fawning praise, but his henchman LeFou gets at least one thing right in the song: “...no one’s neck’s as incredibly thick as Gastrump!”

Ultimately, however, Trump swears that he achieved more for us than any other president in history. That claim, like all of his other superlatives (“like you’ve never seen,” “tremendous,” “better than anybody,” “no one could have imagined,” and so many more) instinctively makes you laugh, but let's put his claims to the test. From his earliest days of running the Trump Organization, he was known for his micromanagement, obsession with results, and strong dislike of structure. People were an afterthought, cogs in a machine to be used and replaced, and they knew it.

Like banal villain Bill Lumbergh, Trump envisages his role as the accomplished, indifferent manager and delegator who sits back with a cup of coffee—or Diet Coke in his case—and watches the ants scurry. He’s not the one doing the work, but rather the one signing off on the TPS reports and calling it a day. That didn’t change when he became president. He maintained notoriously short office hours, spent hundreds of hours and millions in taxpayer dollars at his own properties, and golfed more than any other president. (Roll Call: "Trump’s presidential office hours were the shortest since FDR, Biden’s not far behind him" and The Washington Post: "Have U.S. taxpayers spent $72 million on Trump’s golf outings?")

Simply put, their claims don’t have any meat to them. If you could just ignore that and send in another donation, though, that would be terrific, mmmkay? Trump and Lumbergh are both great at one thing, though: talking a lot and accomplishing little. 

If you want to compress the comical catchphrases and ineptness into a single character, go no further than the megalomaniacal Skeletor. He and Trump share another key trait: a deeply embedded habit of castigating their henchmen when things go wrong, documented decades before Trump became president. A 1990 article in The New York Times (“An Empire at Risk - Trump's Atlantic City; Debt Forcing Trump to Play for Higher Stakes”) made it clear that this is who he has always been as a boss.

Like Skeletor, Trump’s rage at his underlings created predictable—and utterly ineffective—results: “People who work there are terrified…People are hiding under their desks.” It also led to far more serious problems: multiple bankruptcies, and the loss of hundreds of jobs and millions in retirement savings. Echoing his controlling approach as a businessman, president Trump claimed “absolute authority.” He made that assertion, and he bears ultimate responsibility for his administration, including its failures.

Nowhere is that clearer than his response to the most momentous event of his presidency: COVID-19, a pandemic that could have and should have been anticipated. As detailed in numerous reports and studies, most notably “The Trump Administration and the COVID‐19 crisis” from the National Library of Medicine, Trump failed to adequately prepare for a predicted pandemic (despite later claiming it to be “something nobody could have expected”), denied that it would have an impact, misled the public with disinformation, and ultimately blamed everyone but himself for the response when infections skyrocketed.

Those failures led to thousands upon thousands of unnecessary American deaths. (University of Oxford: “Research finds that inadequate US pandemic response cost more American lives than World War I”) It’s no wonder his self-styled “tremendous control” of the situation has been lambasted, and it isn’t just Trump’s critics here in America saying that. It’s a worldwide sentiment. As detailed in Pew’s research (“U.S. Image Plummets Internationally as Most Say Country Has Handled Coronavirus Badly”), the negative perception of Trump—already horrendous compared to his predecessor—worsened even more due to his COVID-19 response.

Mimicking Skeletor’s many botched schemes, that’s far from his only failure. His record is equally troubling in respect to the most significant legal change of his tenure, and praise be to those who can determine his stance on it at any given moment.

The repeal of Roe v. Wade formed a cornerstone of Trump’s 2016 campaign, and he made good on that promise. His three Supreme Court nominees—Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett—gave him the majority he needed, and in 2022 they overturned the long-standing statute despite having implied during their confirmation hearings that they would not. (FactCheck.org: “What Gorsuch, Kavanaugh and Barrett Said About Roe at Confirmation Hearings”)

We all have different morals. You don’t have to believe that abortion is a right, nor do you have to agree with those who do. But your morals also shouldn’t be imposed on others, and that is exactly what is now happening in many states. Trump openly takes pride in this, arguing that it’s what everyone wanted. They didn’t. (Pew Research Center: “Majority of Public Disapproves of Supreme Court’s Decision To Overturn Roe v. Wade”)

Now, as in The Handmaid’s Tale, the prerogative to make decisions about a woman’s body in those states rests solely in the hands of those in positions of power, even if the woman is raped or if her life is in danger. This isn’t a hypothetical scenario. It’s already happening. Dozens upon dozens of stories have emerged since 2019, from “‘Never-Ending Nightmare.’ An Ohio Woman Was Forced to Travel Out of State for an Abortion” (TIME) to “Texas woman who sought court permission for abortion leaves state for the procedure, attorneys say” (PBS). Among them is the account of a 13-year-old rape victim who ultimately had no choice but to have the baby. (TIME: “She Wasn’t Able to Get an Abortion. Now She’s a Mom. Soon She’ll Start 7th Grade.")

Again, it's not about what you personally believe. It's not about what you consider to be right or wrong. Everyone has different experiences, different backgrounds, and different circumstances. In the vast majority of cases we're not in a position to judge someone else's unique situation or the challenges they may be facing. We don't know their struggles or their dreams. We don't know if they've been uplifted or abused, supported or deserted. Every woman, and every girl, should be able to consult with a doctor to make a decision about her health, her body, and her future. Now they can't.

This is Trump’s America. Even worse, the authorities can now punish women should they make that choice for themselves. That would be slightly less alarming if not for the personal record of the man behind it, a record as impressive as a dull spoon.

Trump may go through the motions, claiming that he values, supports, and protects women. His history says otherwise. The Sheriff of Nottingham claimed the high ground as well: “For once in my life I will have something pure!” He then promptly participated in a farcical, forced marriage and attempted rape. It’s exaggerated and surreal, and even makes you chuckle in disbelief as you watch because of its wildly inappropriate nature.

Doesn’t that sound like someone we know? From “You can do anything…grab ‘em by the pussy” to “it doesn't really matter what [the media] writes as long as you've got a young and beautiful piece of ass,” Trump has long made it clear that he sees women as objects to be used at his pleasure or as targets of scorn. (The Week: “81 things Donald Trump has said about women”) That misogyny led to unsurprising results.

Before he announced his run for presidency in 2015, meaning there was no political motivation for doing so, Trump had already been accused of sexual misconduct by at least one person that we know of: Jill Harth. By 2016, numerous others came forward with strikingly similar allegations, including Temple Taggart McDowell, Kristin Anderson, Lisa Boyne, Cathy Heller, and more. (USA Today: “19 women have accused Trump of sexual misconduct. Carroll verdict bolsters their claims.”) Even more emerged in the following years, and he’s now the only president to ever be found liable for sexual assault by a jury of his peers. (AP: “Jury finds Trump liable for sexual abuse, awards accuser $5M”)

One could argue that it was all fabricated, that Trump is the “victim” of a conspiracy. Even if that were true, it hardly begins to explain his troubled history of comments clearly articulating his objectification of women, comments that are 100% better when we can’t see them.

If you think the claims of those women represent isolated incidents, and that his words amount to just a bit of “locker room talk” as Trump described it, think again. His history of denigrating women is clear, and the nature of some of his comments border on grotesque. For years he himself couldn’t stop sharing his musings and fantasies, and the Howard Stern show offered the perfect place for him to do it.

“Trump on Stern” (trumponstern.com) gathers together virtually all of those interviews, and they’re just as repellant as you imagine: discussions of his early sex life and cheating, his avoidance of STDs as a “personal Vietnam,” his attempts to have a threesome with his wife, and much more. But one of the most disturbing comments came in 2004 when he evoked the lead character from the infamous Lolita, expressing an attraction for a 12-year-old Paris Hilton. Trump would have been 47 at the time he saw Hilton, a decade older than pedophile Humbert Humbert.

Nor is she the only one. In another appearance on Stern’s show in 2005 he discussed purposefully walking in on pageant contestants as they changed: “You know, they’re standing there with no clothes. ‘Is everybody okay?’ And you see these incredible looking women, and so, I sort of get away with things like that.” (CNN Business: “Donald Trump's crude talk on The Howard Stern Show”) Trump owned the Miss Universe Organization…which included Miss Teen USA.

Whether or not he took part in any of Jeffrey Epstein’s “parties” with underage girls is beside the point. Whether or not he would have acted on his urges with Hilton or other teen girls is beside the point. The fact remains that a grown man believed it acceptable to publicly comment on how attractive a child was and boasted of intentionally violating young women’s privacy. But if you’re still not convinced, no amount of cross words will change your mind. Maybe more of Trump’s will.

It could have been worse, and it was. Trump speaks about his own daughter in the same way that he does of other women. From describing her “voluptuous” figure and body to pondering what it would be like to date her, he seemed unable to stop fantasizing about her during interviews and appearances over the course of several years. (Politico: “Trump told Howard Stern it’s OK to call Ivanka a ‘piece of a–’”) Even more troubling are the comments that allegedly went even further than that. (The Seattle Times: “Trump’s lewd talk about daughter Ivanka in front of White House staff recalled in new book”)

The villain of the classic 1974 film Chinatown, Noah Cross, mirrors much of Trump’s life. Though a charming businessman, his wealth and success conceal his selfish nature and willingness to break the rules to get ahead. What is revealed later in the film, however, is far more loathsome. Cross broke an unspeakable taboo that positions him among the most despicable people in cinematic history: he raped and impregnated his own daughter.

To be clear, Trump has not done that. But the issue remains: his willingness to assault women, express inappropriate and sexist comments on a regular basis, and even muse about young girls and his own daughter all create a host of ethical questions in terms of the kind of person we want in the White House. (USA Today: “Are ethics for suckers? The US has a complicated relationship with right and wrong in 2019”) It’s little wonder that he struggles to define a clear position on women’s rights and instead wields his rage like a cleaver, focusing on topics—and people—that he knows can elicit fear and anger.

The foremost of those hot-button issues is immigration, another centerpiece of all three of his campaigns. The New York Times article “What’s Going On in This Graph? | Attempted Crossings at the U.S. Southern Border” offers insights into the many flaws, misconceptions, and blatant lies in Trump’s fiery claims on the issue. What’s also fascinating is that it shows historical parallels to precisely what’s happening now.

In the second chart, (“Share of the U.S. population that was born abroad”) a spike in Irish and German immigrants can be seen immediately after 1850, the years after the potato famine hit Europe, and continued for several decades due to the lack of opportunities. Those are the “awful” immigrants that the real William Poole, better known as Bill the Butcher, reviled and attacked: people fleeing hunger, disease, persecution, and war, just as they are today. Trump’s own blood, his grandfather, was one of those German immigrants in 1885. He died in New York at the start of the global flu pandemic in 1918. The ironies should be clear.

Like those who came before him, Trump seeks to paint a dark picture of immigration, claiming that we’re being overrun. The problem is simple: the statistics and charts he so often shares are utterly misleading and inaccurate. Those manipulated sources conflate border encounters with illegal entries, yet “[t]he higher number of border encounters in recent years may be attributable to high apprehension rates, meaning that border patrol operations are working more efficiently, preventing a higher percentage of people from entering the country without authorization.” (USA Facts: “Statistics on unauthorized US immigration and US border crossings by year”) The entire argument also disregards one of the key facts about illegal immigration: a significant number of of unauthorized immigrants don't sneak across the border but rather enter on valid visas and overstay. (NPR: "For 7th Consecutive Year, Visa Overstays Exceeded Illegal Border Crossings")

Trump furthermore makes no distinction between actual criminals, an exceedingly small proportion of all immigrants (Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research: “The mythical tie between immigration and crime”), and instead makes sweeping statements that demonize even those who legally apply for asylum and refugee status. Many reported figures such as those touted on Fox News either represent misleading data or purposefully ignore the distinction between that tiny number and immigrants in general. Trump fails to recognize that people just like his grandfather come here not because they want a free handout, but rather because they’re hoping to work to build a better life.

In other words, we have indeed witnessed this before—many times—and he wields the same fearful rhetoric about immigrants used in America for 200 years. That rhetoric often taps into even darker sources, from the lists of the deadliest wars in modern history.

Among the most egregious examples of systemic hate in the last century was the Holocaust. The real Commandant Amon Goeth, portrayed chillingly in Schindler’s List, called for the utter annihilation of the Jews. In both his language and actions he treated them as subhuman, implying that they deserved torture and death. Trump may not be an overt fascist, nor a Nazi, but he purposefully uses similar language as a political tool. 

If we are being honest, we must acknowledge that dehumanizing others for their race, culture, politics, or skin color plays a troubling role in violent acts and genocide. Though the relationship between that language and those acts is complex, they go hand in hand, creating a spiral that inevitably draws more people into it. (Insights from the Social Sciences: “Dehumanization and the Normalization of Violence: It’s Not What You Think”) 

Remember: the Nazis didn’t target only Jews. That was only the beginning. Their list of enemies grew steadily over time, eventually encompassing Blacks, Roma, gay men, and—most revealingly—political opponents and dissidents. It all followed the same pattern, systematically using language to dehumanize each group while stoking fear and division. To ignore this is to be complicit.

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. 

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. 

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. 

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. 

—Martin Niemöller

That is the fundamental danger of authoritarianism and its rhetoric. It can't survive without an enemy, and when one has been eliminated, a new one arises even if it must begin to feed on itself. "It's always the same process. They narrate a nation in crisis. They say that politics is war. The enemy cheats. The rules no longer apply because they've already broken them. Therefore, put me into power because I will break the rules for you. I will do to them what they have already done to you." (NPR: "Trump's Rhetoric, Always Extreme, Is Getting More So")

We can disagree about policies, debate the issues, and support differing candidates. The moment we begin to deprive people of their humanity because of those differences is the moment we destroy the lofty ideas and beliefs that shaped this nation. Unfortunately, not everyone has always had the opportunity to throw off the chains of oppression and benefit from those principles.

No group suffered the impact of dehumanization more in our own country’s history than Black Americans. Countless research, studies, books, films, and series have explored the horrors of slavery, and dozens of examples could be cited. But few capture its odious nature better than the admittedly melodramatic Calvin Candie, a cruel man who saw his slaves solely as property and subjected them to monstrous treatment.

Trump certainly isn’t a racist in that manner, nor are most of us. However, I would hope that we can at least agree that calling someone “my African American” when you’re an old, white billionaire is—at the very least—as stupid as Calvin Candie’s belief in phrenology. It implies that he sees people of color as a tool, as the means to give legitimacy to his campaign.

Even if Trump doesn’t fit the traditional definition of an overt racist (itself an arguable point), his implicit and often explicit support of others who have made blatantly racist comments such as Corey Stewart (The New York Times: “Corey Stewart, Virginia Senate Nominee, Evokes Trump on Racial Issues”) and Douglass Mackey (The Hill: “Social media influencer charged with election interference in 2016 sentenced to prison”) certainly doesn’t instill confidence. Nowhere is this clearer than his endorsement of Mark Robinson, the North Carolina gubernatorial candidate exposed for his shockingly racist comments on porn sites. Trump’s response, after a long period of silence, imitated what so many Germans said about Hitler and the Nazis to justify their inaction: “Uh…I don’t know the situation.” (Newsweek: “Donald Trump Breaks Silence on Mark Robinson”) 

It’s even worse when looking back to his actual actions and policies. For someone who claims to have “done more for the Black Community than any President since Abraham Lincoln,” he certainly didn’t show it in 2020. As people poured onto the streets of cities in largely peaceful rallies to protest police violence and discrimination, Trump didn’t seek common ground. He failed to address the root causes of the protests and blamed all for the actions of a few, calling for harsh crackdowns that included the use of tear gas and rubber bullets. (The Washington Post: “Donald Trump's dangerous view of state violence”)

Naturally, many of his ardent followers may defend him on these points, claiming that nothing definitively proves that he's racist. They'll argue that sometimes force is needed. That's easy to say when you're not on the receiving end, when you're not the one exercising your rights, or when you simply have the right skin color. Effective leaders aren’t this rash or divisive, and they certainly shouldn’t be cruel. That streak of sadism doesn’t reflect just a personality flaw; it can and does affect Trump’s administration and his policies, making him appear less like a president and more like a spoiled, vicious king.  

International norms and human rights conventions exist for precisely this reason: countries agreed that we wanted to move past the barbarism of earlier eras. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights recognizes that the entire world is more stable and prosperous when we collectively resist injustices and protect those who can’t protect themselves, and its creation implicitly acknowledged that the United States was best positioned to defend those ideals. Every modern president has upheld this alongside our allies…until Trump.

The issue is not solely his support of an archaic and ineffective means of interrogation. (Nature: “Torture does not work”) It’s that the same undertone of cruelty, the lack of regard for the worth of human life, extends to all of his policies, from his praise of dictators who oppress their own people to his musings of what we could do to our enemies. This defies our country’s commitment to higher standards than those that attack us and, even worse, gives them further justification for their actions. Upon ascending to the throne King Joffrey took every opportunity to act out his brutish desires, confusing power with strength and blustering toughness with resolve. He learned far too late that cruelty is returned in kind. 

Before that point, Joffrey also demonstrated just how poor of a king he was, ignoring the advice of his wisest counselors, flouting alliances, and attacking his rivals due to his own insecurities and fear. Similarly, Trump famously claimed that his “primary consultant” was himself (Politico: “Trump: I consult myself on foreign policy”) while basing his decisions on his moods and whims (Foreign Policy Research Institute: “The Tragic Irony of Donald Trump’s Foreign Policy”), an approach that alienated and undermined our allies.

This fatal flaw deserves greater scrutiny that any prior to this point. If one thing defines Trump’s platform, it’s “America first.” He and his supporters argue that it’s not our job to police the world; other countries should defend themselves. It’s not our job to protect the weak; they should just become stronger. It’s not in our interest to be the defenders of democracy around the world; we should only seek to enrich ourselves. Despite his claims, we have always benefited from investing in strong relationships with our allies, both in terms of influence and economic returns. (Brookings: “Who are America’s allies and are they paying their fair share of defense?”)

Between 1935 to 1939 our government passed the Neutrality Acts, isolationist legislation intended to prevent America becoming involved in World War II. That ended with the Lend-Lease Act in early 1941 when it became clear that defending our allies was not simply a choice, but an obligation. This was captured in the Fortune essay “Freedom Is Not Easy” in November 1941, the month before the bombing of Pearl Harbor. It included a clear condemnation of those who believed we should only look inward and instead advocated for the vigorous defense of democracy.

Some today will echo the claim that we should let the world deal with its own problems and put America first. Some will argue that the racists and fascists who support Trump don’t represent him. Even more will claim that they simply favor Trump only because they think some good may come out of his many, many flaws. Read these words from 1941 before believing them.

Trump couldn’t handle the truth. Like all others who question, challenge, or oppose him, our highest ranking military officials quickly found themselves at odds with the commander in chief. Their words, and those of many others, say more than I ever could:

• Marine Corps General James Mattis: “Donald Trump is the first president in my lifetime who does not try to unite the American people – does not even pretend to try. Instead he tries to divide us.” (The Atlantic: “James Mattis Denounces President Trump, Describes Him as a Threat to the Constitution”)

• Marine Corps General John Allen: “We don't do strategy, and we shouldn't be doing foreign policy, by tweet…And this is what you get when you have a single phone call between world leaders.” (Business Insider: “'This is just chaos': Retired Marine general condemns Trump's decision to stand down as Turkey launches military attacks in Syria”)

• Navy Admiral Mike Mullen: “Whatever Trump's goal in conducting his visit, he laid bare his disdain for the rights of peaceful protest in this country, gave succor to the leaders of other countries who take comfort in our domestic strife, and risked further politicizing the men and women of our armed forces.” (The Atlantic: “I Cannot Remain Silent”)

• Air Force General Richard Myers: “I’m glad I don’t have to advise this President. I’m sure the senior military leadership is finding it really difficult these days to provide good, sound military advice.” (CNN: “Ex-Joint Chiefs chairman: ‘I’m glad I don’t have to advise this President’”)

• Navy Admiral William McRaven: “[Trump has] embarrassed us in the eyes of our children, humiliated us on the world stage and, worst of all, divided us as a nation.” (Reuters: “Retired Admiral McRaven has no regrets over criticizing Trump”)

• Marine Corps. General John Kelly: “[Trump is] a person that thinks those who defend their country in uniform, or are shot down or seriously wounded in combat, or spend years being tortured as POWs are all ‘suckers’ because ‘there is nothing in it for them.’” (Marine Corps. Times: “Trump insulted vets in private, former Chief of Staff Kelly confirms”)

John Kelly in particular revealed much about the former president’s attitude toward members of the military, particularly those Trump perceived as not “tough” enough, just as Colonel Nathan Roy Jessup felt contempt for a soldier he perceived as weak. He derided John McCain, one of the most respected men on both sides of the aisle, for having been a POW. Clearly Trump—a draft dodger and coward who has never had to face a real fight—doesn’t understand the brotherhood of those who serve, the importance of leaving no man behind, and the willingness to make sacrifices for your comrades.

Even worse, he belittles those who go above and beyond the call of duty. When recognizing a civilian with the Presidential Medal of Freedom, he called it “much better” than the Medal of Honor. Trump’s sense of self-worth reflects not just a pathological need for adoration, but also an aversion to anyone else receiving more praise than him. Anyone who has accomplished anything that he hasn’t isn’t worthy and can’t compare to his own “sacrifices” as the heir to a real estate empire. (ABC: “Donald Trump to Father of Fallen Soldier: ‘I've Made a Lot of Sacrifices’”) Any honor that he bestows on others must be superior to the one given to honor our soldiers.

To the surprise of few, Trump has become the first president to be rebuked by the Veterans of Foreign Wars. (VFW: “VFW Admonishes Former President for Medal of Honor Remarks”) He’s the first to draw the rare public condemnation of dozens of high-ranking military officials, many of whom have spoken out against Trump’s fitness for office and endorsed his opponent, Kamala Harris, in the upcoming election. (Reuters: “Ten former top US military officials back Harris, call Trump 'a danger'”) What do those men say? Simply put, Trump doesn’t have the temperament to be commander-in-chief or have his finger on the nuclear button. That hardly lends confidence to putting him right back in that same position.

As Tim Walz put it, Trump is just weird, and the root of that abnormal behavior runs deeper than the unrestrained self-praise, fragile ego, and obsession with being above others. It creates a constant insecurity, one that manifests by lashing out with threats and attacks. For someone who touts so often that the world was peaceful during his administration—a wholly inaccurate claim (The Washington Post: “Trump falsely claims ‘no terrorist attacks’ and ‘no wars’ during his presidency”)—he had a strange way of showing his peaceful nature.

In yet another first, Trump became the only American president to ever violate the UN Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons for his reckless post about North Korea. (Business Insider: “9 times Trump or his top officials threatened to attack or nuke other countries in 2018”) He didn’t stop there. In another tirade directed to Iran he blustered that he would “blow your largest cities and the country itself to smithereens.” (The Hill: “Trump says he’d threaten to blow Iran ‘to smithereens’ over candidate threats”) His rhetoric throughout his presidency, and even now, consistently reflects these bombastic and utterly nonsensical boasts.

Threatening to escalate a conflict to the point of mutual annihilation hardly seems characteristic of a measured, thoughtful leader, contrary to what some want us to believe. It’s much more akin to the nihilistic dark comedy of Dr. Strangelove. In 2014 The New Yorker published a 50-year retrospective of the film, citing how closely it reflected the real dangers of a system that could lead to total destruction, particularly when placed in the hands of a few neurotic individuals:

“The security measures now used to control America’s nuclear weapons are a vast improvement over those of 1964. But, like all human endeavors, they are inherently flawed. The Department of Defense’s Personnel Reliability Program is supposed to keep people with serious emotional or psychological issues away from nuclear weapons—and yet two of the nation’s top nuclear commanders were recently removed from their posts. Neither appears to be the sort of calm, stable person you want with a finger on the button.” (The New Yorker: “Almost Everything in Dr. Strangelove Was True”)

Little did the writer, famed journalist Eric Schlosser, know that a mere two years later the real-life villain of the film would ironically be the president himself. This is the man we elected to control the world's most dangerous weapons, and it’s incredible that the primary syndrome of our country’s illness isn’t self-evident despite his raving declarations of being a hero. We've already seen what he is. A liar. A cheat. A misogynist. A divider. A power-hungry demagogue. A self-proclaimed stable genius. 

Indeed, like Syndrome of The Incredibles, Trump is neither stable nor a genius…and definitely not a hero. A stable genius doesn’t incessantly seek the approval of others. He doesn’t sacrifice innocents to achieve his goals. He certainly doesn’t threaten destruction and revenge just because others challenge his delusions.

Out of all of the villains we’ve encountered up to this point, the cartoonish Syndrome perhaps best captures the essence of Trump’s rise to power. It goes far beyond the monologuing. They both achieved their aims not out of a genuine desire to serve, but rather to fulfill a fantasy. They continually attempt to justify their desire for revenge against those they claim deserve it for opposing them. Most importantly, they harbor a deep insecurity, one that drives all of their actions, consciously or unconsciously.

This leads us to the core of Trump’s pathology. His constant need for praise, adoration, and capitulation emerges from an immense void, one that he desperately tries to fill with wild boasts. Which other politicians can’t stop talking about their hand sizes, their intelligence, their looks, their crowd sizes, their skills, their knowledge, and practically every other topic? If any public figure had spoken and acted like this prior to Trump, their careers would have swiftly ended.

Yet he keeps going, drawing others to him and—even more disturbing—generating countless imitators aspiring to the warped image of a heroic masked hero. “The ‘Shared Psychosis’ of Donald Trump and His Loyalists” from Scientific American keenly explains the neurotic feedback loop this creates: “The leader, hungry for adulation to compensate for an inner lack of self-worth, projects grandiose omnipotence—while the followers, rendered needy by societal stress or developmental injury, yearn for a parental figure. When such wounded individuals are given positions of power, they arouse similar pathology in the population that creates a ‘lock and key’ relationship.” 

The problem of course is that both Syndrome and Syntrum manufacture the crises they claim to avert, a chilling point to consider. (The Atlantic: “Why Trump Keeps Creating Crises”) Without those disasters, and the fear and anger subsequently generated, the source of their power loses its potency. But there is still one last key achievement, one part of Trump's presidency, that matters most to many voters, and it pierces to the heart of why they insist they’ll still vote for him again.

Out of any issue in the 2024 election, the economy is cited as a concern the most, with 81% of voters identifying it as very important. It also represents a 10-point difference in confidence, with many believing that Trump would handle it more effectively than Harris. Two questions deserve to be asked: what economy did he inherit, and who benefits most from his policies?

In Snowpiercer Joseph Wilford took credit for the creation of the engine that powered the extraordinary train, yet it was actually created by another. The tale sounds familiar for good reason. By the end of 2008, the full impact of the housing bubble pushed the United States economy into free fall, launching the Great Recession and the worst period of instability since World War II. (Forbes: “A Short History Of The Great Recession”) As Obama entered the White House he faced a country in chaos. The Federal Reserve had already cut rates to zero in an effort to stem the bleeding, millions of jobs and homes were lost, and the stock market plummeted.

Obama signed the Recovery Act the very next month, and the GDP soon rebounded, with inflation rates remaining within the target range of the Federal Reserve for all of his presidency excluding 2011 to the first half of 2012, and unemployment steadily dropping from 2011 onward. At the end of his second term inflation stood at 1.8%, job growth exceeded the pre-2008 levels, and the GDP experienced steady growth. In other words, Trump didn’t create an efficient, powerful economic engine on his own. The components for that were handed to him, and even then “[e]ach of the last three years of Obama’s economy were stronger than Trump’s 2019 when adjusted for trade, inventory impacts and government spending.” (Forbes: “Obama’s 2009 Recovery Act Kicked Off Over 10 Years Of Economic Growth”)

One of the primary reasons for Trump’s sluggish performance despite benefiting from these positives reflects Wilford’s own flaws once again…and even more strongly: both sought to create a system that primarily benefited the elite. The lower class on Snowpiercer lived in squalor while the wealthy passengers benefited from their work. Trump’s signature bill, the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act, was unsurprisingly touted as a "tremendous thing" for the American people. The reality was quite different. "In the first year after Trump signed the legislation, just 82 ultrawealthy households collectively walked away with more than $1 billion in total savings, an analysis of confidential tax records shows." Over 86% of the tax savings went to benefit the top 10%. (ProPublica: “Secret IRS Files Reveal How Much the Ultrawealthy Gained by Shaping Trump’s ‘Big, Beautiful Tax Cut’”)

In “As investment continues to decline, the Trump tax cuts remain nothing but a handout to the rich” the Economic Policy Institute made the reason for that clear: “The centerpiece of the TCJA was a corporate rate cut that proponents claimed would eventually trickle down to workers’ wages…” Yes, Trumford’s entire “genius” system yet again reflected the economic theory that has failed to benefit average Americans for decades. In other words, they’re living in luxury in first class while the rest of us hope for scraps at the back of the train.

If you don’t believe that, believe Trump himself. He already openly told us he’s “very greedy.” He openly boasted that he’s “very rich.” Now consider what he says in private: a leaked video released this year shows him speaking to a room filled with wealthy donors, where he again openly bragged “...you’re rich as hell…we’re gonna give you tax cuts.” (YouTube: “Trump Promises Tax Cuts to Room Full of Rich People”) Yes, his plan is to further enrich those who recorded record profits during the pandemic (Inequality.org: “Updates: Billionaire Wealth, U.S. Job Losses and Pandemic Profiteers”), who employ union busting tactics to stop workers from calling for better pay and benefits, and who already benefit from tax cuts and loopholes (USA Today: “How do the mega rich skirt $160B in taxes each year? Here are some loopholes they exploit.”) 

No, Trump is not suffering for us, the “morons” who came from more modest backgrounds and didn’t have money handed to us, nor are any of those he’s so hungry to please. To them this has become a game, one that pits us against one another as they watch for entertainment. That becomes even clearer when considering the final year of his presidency and his plans for the next one.

Trump’s view of the world hardly matches what most of us believe and experience, but it again impacts his decisions, including his economic policies. Like The Hunger Games, this means there will inevitably be a few winners and many, many more losers. That philosophy has no basis in reality, and both conservative and liberal economists alike have debunked it repeatedly. (Acton Institute: “‘Win-win denial’: The roots of zero-sum thinking”) More importantly, it’s certainly not how a government “of the people, by the people, for the people” should ever structure its approach.

In Trump’s mind, this is how the world works, and it quickly became apparent in his response to COVID-19. Despite the robust economy that he inherited, his handling of the pandemic obliterated his minimal successes. After initially denying it would have an impact as already detailed, he was forced to address it in March 2020 after the GDP had already entered free fall, and multiple industry representatives warned him that further inaction would be disastrous. Trump signed the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act, which allocated $2.2 trillion to stimulate the economy in response to COVID-19, and signed the Coronavirus Response and Relief Supplemental Appropriations Act in December 2020 for another $900 billion. 

Combined, this $3.1 trillion represented the largest stimulus package in American history. It would have been precisely what was needed as well…if not for the fact that Trump once again made sure that the money flowed to the wealthy and corporations more than average households and small businesses. (Brookings: “Did CARES Act benefits reach vulnerable Americans? Evidence from a national survey”) Even worse, his administration rewarded allies with generous and potentially illegal contracts. (ProPublica: “Documents Show Trump Officials Skirted Rules to Reward Politically Connected and Untested Firms With Huge Pandemic Contracts”)

Where was Trump when he signed the second package, as infections and hospitalizations spiked to their then highest-ever levels? “Trump signed the bill while vacationing in Florida and on a weekend when he had allowed unemployment benefits for 14 million Americans to expire…He had demanded changes to the stimulus and spending package for a week, suggesting he would refuse to sign it until these demands were met.” (The Texas Tribune: “Trump signs stimulus bill granting most Americans $600 in pandemic aid”) The capitol flourishes while the districts suffer. The president relaxes in luxury while the citizens labor.

“Concepts” of a plan. The very notion sounds preposterous, but it’s all Trump can offer at this point. One of the most memorable villains of the last decade, for all his power and resources, didn’t appear very smart either when he revealed his intentions on screen. The mad titan Thanos arrived at one of the worst possible solutions to a problem that he literally could have solved any other way. The parallels to the angry fraudster Trumpos should be obvious.

In his shockingly nonchalant statement Trump was referring specifically to healthcare rather than the economy or another of his favorite topics. But he was president for four years and had four more years to generate an alternative plan to what he has long claimed are debilitating flaws in a largely improved healthcare system (RAND: “The Affordable Care Act in Depth”). In his own words, all he has after those eight years is “concepts.” Not being president now is not an excuse, especially when you paint such a dire picture of our nation.

This failure to articulate a coherent, rational plan extends into his economic proposals as well, rife with mutually exclusive goals. He wants to cut virtually all taxes across the board yet reduce the federal debt, impose harsh tariffs yet cut prices for consumers, and enact mass deregulation yet practically force companies to drop prices. “Trump's Economic Plans Don't Add Up” from Forbes again framed it best: “Trump appears to have little interest in specifying details of what his proposals would look like. He seems to campaign more like an entertainer or stand-up comic, testing out lines to see what the audience likes.” Like Thanos, he proposes snapping his fingers and making the problems go away. They won’t. He’ll simply create even worse issues that hurt average Americans.

Trump didn’t simply mishandle the COVID-19 crisis and the ensuing economic fallout. Through his rash, poorly considered decisions he divided people after claiming he would unite them (Reuters: “Trump's legacy: A more divided America, a more unsettled world”), disrupted the agriculture industry after claiming he would make it stronger (Civil Eats: “How Four Years of Trump Reshaped Food and Farming”), removed dozens of environmental protections after claiming he would make our country beautiful (The New York Times: “The Trump Administration Rolled Back More Than 100 Environmental Rules. Here’s the Full List.”), and utterly destroyed our trust in public institutions after claiming he would protect them (Brookings: “Commentary Destroying trust in the media, science, and government has left America vulnerable to disaster”).

At the end, wounded in his fight for another term, he left for his little paradise at Mar-A-Lago, content with the work he had done. Thanos and Trump both sought power, not responsibility. They sought easy fixes for the problems they claimed existed, not to do the hard work to address the root causes of those issues. That doesn’t mean a plan doesn’t exist. On the contrary, the one proposed by his supporters, filled with policies that he could very well implement, looks less like America and more like a veritable dystopia.

Despite his many flaws and failures, Trump doesn’t stand alone. An entire political party rallies behind him, a party no longer dedicated to traditional Republican values, but rather his capricious whims. (Politico: “How has Trump transformed the Republican Party? Look at the platforms.”) As we saw when Trump directed them to kill the bipartisan border bill in the Senate, the goal is not bettering the nation; it’s handing power back to him. (AP: “Abandoned by his colleagues after negotiating a border compromise, GOP senator faces backlash alone”) The clearest path to doing that is simple: foment disorder.

“I want this country to realize that we stand on the edge of oblivion. I want every man, woman and child to understand how close we are to chaos.” The words of Adam Sutler from V for Vendetta and Trump could be switched without anyone knowing the difference. Their goals too are the same: they want division. They want unrest. They want anger. That chaos represents the key to giving Trump what he so desperately seeks. Even more concerning, he may not have a plan, but they do: Project 2025.

Trump avows that he has ”nothing to do with Project 2025” and has “no idea who is behind it.” His protests would be more convincing if there were not a video of him praising its creators, The Heritage Foundation, for their work on the mandate. (MSNBC: “See it: Video of Trump embracing group behind Project 2025”) Equally telling, 31 former Trump officials contributed to its 900 pages and made it clear that it aligns with his vision. Among the actions they propose are enacting mass deregulation, implementing more tax breaks for the wealthy and large corporations, ending worker protections, gutting entire agencies, cutting educational programs for children in poverty, eliminating civil rights protections, and much more. (Project 2025 Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise)

One could contend that no president will be able to enact legislation like this, as it would require the cooperation of Congress. Anyone who makes that argument forgets how Adam Sutler rose to power. He similarly rode a populist wave into office, denigrated and diminished the media, and—empowered by his party—seized total control after eliminating all other resistance. Now consider this: the conservative-dominant Supreme Court has now granted presidents full immunity for all “official” actions they take, a broad definition that gives presidents leeway regardless of motivation. (Brennan Center: “Supreme Court’s Radical Immunity Ruling Shields Lawbreaking Presidents and Undermines Democracy”) Trump has eroded trust in the press so much that it’s now at its lowest ever point. (Gallup: “Americans' Trust in Media Remains at Trend Low”) Most importantly, he made it clear that he’ll bring the entire government under his control. (The New Yorker: “Donald Trump's Plan to Make the Presidency More Like a Kingship”)

The end game of these actions are clear. As concisely detailed in “Trump and Allies Forge Plans to Increase Presidential Power in 2025” (The New York Times), “Mr. Trump and his associates have a broader goal: to alter the balance of power by increasing the president’s authority over every part of the federal government that now operates, by either law or tradition, with any measure of independence from political interference by the White House…Mr. Trump intends to bring independent agencies — like the Federal Communications Commission, which makes and enforces rules for television and internet companies, and the Federal Trade Commission, which enforces various antitrust and other consumer protection rules against businesses — under direct presidential control.”

Suddenly Donam Trutler doesn’t seem so farfetched.  But what will happen if Trump fails to retake the White House, if he and his sycophants don’t have the opportunity to implement this extreme agenda? He doesn’t hesitate to tell us again and again, like a zombie endlessly repeating the same routine. 

Trump’s predictions for our country should he lose the election sound downright apocalyptic, all with the intention of generating fear. If you think Trump will take his foot off the gas when president again–ease up on the rhetoric and vows of revenge–you’d be wrong. This is someone who embraces the apocalypse, who sees it as an opportunity. His entire presidency resulted from cultivating fear and anger, and it has reached the point that even he acknowledges it, claiming in a recent rally, "No, I’m just saying this is dark. This is a dark speech." (USA Today: “Searching for voters, Donald Trump goes dark(er) with pre-election rhetoric”)

His speeches have transformed into a litany of all the horrific things that will happen should he fail to win the White House a second time, among them:

• “If I don’t win this election – and Jewish people would have a lot to do with that, 60 percent are voting for the enemy – Israel will cease to exist in two years.” (The Hill: “Trump says ‘Israel will cease to exist’ if Harris elected in appeal to Jewish voters”)

• “If you followed her policy, you will end up in a 1929-style depression, 100% certain, and companies will flee, and jobs will flee, and everything's going to flee.” (Fox Business: “Trump says Harris' economic plans would put US in ‘1929-style depression’”)

• “If we don't win this election, I don't think you're going to have another election in this country…If I don't get elected, it's going to be a bloodbath for the whole country.” (Reuters: “Trump predicts the end of U.S. democracy if he loses 2024 election”)

• “The two incompetent people running our country — and I don’t think they’re even running it — are leading us to the brink of World War III, a war like no other.” (Politico: “Trump blasts Harris on Iran, says Biden administration is ‘leading us to brink of World War III’”)

It’s little surprise that the dark imagery of The Walking Dead come to mind. Though not as malicious as Negan or as blatantly horrifying as the Terminus community, Philip Blake—better known as The Governor—found his true calling in the apocalypse as well. An office worker before the events of the show, he seized power under the guise of protecting his community and became more and more brutal, willing to use violence and terror against his own people to maintain control.

Simply put, Trump’s grim words matter. Even the conservative outlet The Dispatch called him out for it in “The Ugly Logic Behind Trump’s Apocalyptic Rhetoric” and pointed to the failure of his followers to do the same: “Trump’s normie defenders in elected office and the media dismiss his irresponsible rhetoric and conspiracy theories as an unfortunate distraction. The closest they get to criticizing him for it is mumbling that he should ‘stick to the issues.’ They put far more energy into trying to say Trump has a point. As a result, Trump can take normie voters and politicians for granted because they’re cheap dates who will support him no matter what. This empowers him to expand his coalition to people motivated by his celebrations of bigotry, crudeness, and violence.”

Perhaps too late, though, even they will have a limit. As The Governor lost his grip on sanity and escalated tensions with more and more violence, his own followers deserted him. Many former members of Trump’s circle thankfully did the right thing already and publicly testified to the chaos and dysfunction of Trump’s presidency. He may call them losers and disgruntled liars, but it’s less about the truth and more about his anger over being deserted. Take it from the big boy himself: it all boils down to his complete demands for loyalty. If you’re not with him, you’re against him.

“You get behind me, we all profit; you challenge me, we all go down! There was one Napoleon, one Washington, one me!” From the awkward dancing to the anachronistic references to the grandiose tirades, Trump and Big Boy Caprice could be twins. But the most striking similarity between them reflects a simple expectation: complete and utter loyalty from their underlings. It goes beyond a demand of fealty. Any defiance, disobedience, or questioning will be met not only with reproach, but also potential expulsion from the inner circle.

Early in Trump’s presidency it became apparent that his disorganized and inconsistent leadership style had carried over into the White House: “The result of all the melodrama is a sense of constant chaos for a watchful nation and a crippling anxiety for White House officials. Some aides now refuse to communicate by email, given that federal law requires such messages to be archived for historians and investigators. Many have taken to using encrypted apps to get around the investigations Trump has ordered to clamp down on leaks. Others are skittish about even picking up the phone, assuming someone is always listening or monitoring calls. ‘It’s dysfunctional, as far as national security is concerned,’ says Senator John McCain, an Arizona Republican. ‘Who’s in charge? Who’s making policy? Who’s making decisions? I don’t know if anyone outside of the White House that knows.’” (TIME: “Inside Donald Trump’s White House Chaos”)

To no one’s surprise, this unpredictability led to the same result that it did for those who worked in the Trump Organization: dissatisfaction, unease, and plenty of departures. Throughout Trump’s four years, a staggering 92% of his original Cabinet left before his term finished, a number that climbs even higher when considering positions filled with multiple replacements: four Chiefs of Staff, five Deputy Chiefs of Staff, six Communications Directors, four National Security Advisers, six Deputy National Security Advisers, and many more. (Brookings: “Tracking turnover in the Trump administration”) Many went on to commit the ultimate sin: revealing how ill suited Trump is for the presidency.

Those who crossed Big Boy Caprice often earned a concrete bath. Though Trump may not go that far, he certainly has no compunction in completely turning against those who have revealed what his administration was really like behind closed doors, and how arrogant, foolish, and stubborn their boss was. As can be expected, they’re “incompetent” and can’t be trusted to tell the truth according to Trump. That hardly instills confidence given that he repeatedly claimed that he hired only the best and now avoids the question entirely. (Business Insider: “Trump, who said he hired only the best people, was thoroughly asked why so many key players of his administration didn't want him to be president again”)

When over two dozen of your staff members, many of whom held the highest positions, all say the same thing, perhaps the problem isn’t with them. It’s with you. (AP: “Former Trump officials are among the most vocal opponents of returning him to the White House”) Trump won’t let that be forgotten, and the space between now and election day leaves plenty of time for him to coldly consider how he will get his revenge.

The urge for retribution against those who crossed him forms a staple throughout Trump’s career. In his 2007 book Think Big and Kick Ass in Business and Life he detailed his philosophy at length: “I love getting even. To me, that’s very important. If somebody screws you, you screw them back ten times harder. You do it not only to make yourself feel good, which is very important, but also to let people around you know that you’re not going to take advantage of, let people know you have to be tough.”

In other words, if you cross him in any way, he’ll go out of his way to get back at you. Understandably, this represents a natural human instinct, and we’re all guilty of small acts of revenge. However, the larger question is whether that tendency, greatly magnified, is appropriate in our leaders. Even more disturbingly, Trump’s desire for revenge may actually drive support for him among those who prefer autocratic or authoritarian figures: “In fact, vengeful tendencies have been linked with two social attitudes: right-wing authoritarianism and social dominance and the motivational values that underlie these attitudes.” (Psychology Today: “Seeking Revenge: Its Causes, Impact, and Challenge”)

The bottom line is that revenge, like many other darker tendencies, don’t contribute to effective leadership. On the contrary, extensive research indicates that it impacts organizations and groups negatively. (Wiley Online Library: “The dark side of leadership: A systematic review of creativity and innovation”) Now extrapolate that to the global scale: an American president—motivated by revenge, anger, and bitterness—hardly seems the best option to lead our country forward and begin healing the division that has gripped us for the past several decades.

For those who think it doesn’t matter, consider what happened just over a century ago in the wake of World War I and another devastating pandemic: “And when the victors of the first world war assembled in Paris in 1919, they were so convinced that the war had only been a speed bump on the path to progress that they felt able to impose brutally punitive policies on Germany. Keynes’s (prescient) warnings that these revenge politics would unleash more ‘rivalries’ — ie extremist politics and war — were brushed aside.” (Financial Times: “Our leaders must reject revenge politics”) That desire to punish, to impose suffering on the losers, directly led to the rise of Nazi Germany and the Holocaust.

Trump shares many commonalities with Khan: a dark charisma, arrogance, and a ruthless nature. More than anything else, though, their inability to let go of anger joins them, driving them to seek vengeance above all else. That alone represents merely one of a million points that should bar Trump from being in the White House again. But it’s even worse than that, as he isn’t a superhuman like Khan, but rather a parody. He doesn’t possess genetically engineered super strength, nor is he a tactical genius. As we’ve already seen, it’s just the opposite. 

Like Dr. Evil, Trump is simply far out of his depth. From the utter lack of technological understanding (Futurism: “Donald Trump Doesn't Use a Computer or Have an Email Address, Former Aide Reveals in Court”) to the self-admitted aversion to reading (The Washington Post: “Donald Trump doesn’t read much. Being president probably wouldn’t change that.”), Trump feels like someone plucked from an older time and placed in a foreign, confusing world. This is the man who would have control over our nuclear arsenal: someone who can only manage to describe a missile launch with “ding, whoosh, boom.” One doesn’t have to be an expert in modern weaponry to devise a better explanation than cartoonish sound effects.

That accounts for only one in a never-ending series of gaffes. In one of his most notable examples, Trump mumbled that the Continental Army “took over the airports” during the American Revolution, a blunder he later blamed on the teleprompter. (TIME: “President Trump Said Revolutionary War Troops ‘Took Over the Airports’ in His Fourth of July Speech”) Ironically, he frequently claims he doesn’t rely on teleprompters and derides others for using them. “‘Isn’t it nice to have a guy that doesn’t need a teleprompter, a president, a potential president that doesn’t need a teleprompter?’ Trump asked supporters moments after fixing his teleprompter.” (The Independent: “Trump, after mocking Harris over teleprompter use, stops rally to remove sign that fell on his”)

Perhaps if he did have the assistance of one more often, he wouldn’t have made so many other errors: switching the names of other leaders and important dates, confusing September 11th with 7-Eleven, and inventing entirely new words like covfefe. According to Trump, it’s all part of his master plan, a brilliant satiric twist to make fun of his opponents and confuse them. (Reuters: “Trump says when he mixes up names it is on purpose”) He just needs to touch his pinky to his lip to make the image complete. 

However, Trump’s gaffes don’t encompass only humorous mistakes. They also reflect disturbingly large gaps in his knowledge and understanding, hardly comforting for someone who would once again have more influence than anyone else on our country’s direction. He described tariffs as “a tax that doesn’t affect our country.” (Cato Institute: "Americans Paid for the Trump Tariffs—and Would Do So Again") To be clear, they do. Practically every economist, and history itself, will tell you that tariffs ultimately cost American consumers more than anyone else. He insists, against all available evidence, that wind turbines cause cancer, railing against a technology that has largely proven effective as a supplemental energy source. (The Hill: “Trump claims wind turbine ‘noise causes cancer’”) Even our alliances suffer due to his misconceptions, such as his unfounded criticisms about NATO funding. (NPR: "FACT CHECK: Trump's Claims On NATO Spending")

These examples, among many others, all point to the same conclusion: Trump, a 78-year-old man in cognitive decline, simply doesn’t have the intellectual or emotional capacity to be president. Even on that point, he manages to skewer himself better than anyone else, as when he implied that people in their 80s don’t have the mental faculty to sign documents. (International Business Times: “Oh-Oh: Trump, 78, Indicates At Rally That People In Their 80s Shouldn't Be Signing Documents”) To steal another quote, “I do not think it means what he thinks it means.”

Trump will deny all of this. He’ll tell you it’s all an illusion, that he’s the one who knows what he’s talking about when no one else does. His words allegedly have a deeper meaning, and his long, rambling speeches all tie together in flashes of brilliance that we, the common people, can’t understand. Put differently, ignore the man behind the curtain.

Trump, undoubtedly feeling pressure for his numerous gaffes and errors, developed a new defense for this. Terming it the “weave,” he claimed “I’ll talk about like nine different things, and they all come back brilliantly together, and it’s like, friends of mine that are, like, English professors, they say, ‘It’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen.’” (The New York Times: "Meandering? Off-Script? Trump Insists His ‘Weave’ Is Oratorical Genius.") I’ll simply let you decide whether some of his words represent a brilliant “weave” or an addled old man who can’t hold together a cogent thought or answer simple questions. This represents just one of his many rambling speeches, with the sections indicating his use of a teleprompter highlighted in red. The other is an attempted reply to a question from a panel member at The Economic Club of New York.

This is the Trump so many of us see: a man attempting to conceal his true self and failing miserably again and again. And just like Count Olaf, he somehow manages to fool at least some people every time. If you don’t buy into his lies and deception, the explanation is simple: you’re the dumb one. That reaction is what we all so often see from Trump, and it’s just as ridiculously over the top as Olaf’s rants: “You’re all idiots! Can’t you see what I’m trying to do?” 

This inevitably has led to a vast number of people being on the receiving end of his labels, and they naturally share a commonality: “Stupid people are the ones who criticize and oppose him.” (The Washington Post: “The people whom President Trump has called stupid”) Yes, it really does boil down to his ego once again. If you don’t fully accept Trump’s claims, no matter how absurd they may be, you’re the dumb one. It’s precisely this blind faith that should call into question his motivations and disparagement of others.

While most of us don’t suffer from being the target of his ire, the reality once again becomes much darker when you realize how his fragile pride impacts our country’s institutions and public servants. This becomes clearest in his criticism of U.S. intelligence agencies, whose work ultimately entails keeping us safe from threats. In cases in which their findings contradicted Trump’s views, they also became “naive” and “wrong.” As one official observed, “This is a consequence of narcissism but it is a strong and inappropriate public political pressure to get the intelligence community leadership aligned with his political goals.” (The New York Times: “Trump Calls Intelligence Officials ‘Naive’ After They Contradict Him”)

Over 100,000 people collectively represent our intelligence agencies, all extensively trained to assess, analyze, and identify potential threats. Yet we should trust the intellect of a narcissistic failed businessman with a sordid past and no experience in international relations over their collective conclusions. Equally disturbing, his rhetoric pushes the boundaries of acceptable behavior, representing words that would have previously doomed any politician and measurably lead to more division, anger, and violence. (Perspectives on Terrorism: “Donald Trump: Aggressive Rhetoric and Political Violence”)

It should be no surprise that a symbiotic relationship has emerged between Trump and his followers. When he takes a position, they adopt it. When he insults a new target, they direct their anger toward it. Like Count Olaf’s troupe, they’re all too eager to empower their leader, praising him for his “genius” and his unorthodox methods regardless of how blatantly ill-advised, inappropriate, or simply foolish they are.

The nature of Trump’s wild behavior and insults would give Neal Patrick Harris’s bitter character a run for his money, particularly because it’s so easy to bait the man. But it’s not the parallel that matters most. Near the end of the Netflix series, Olaf makes a rare serious and borderline psychotic claim: “Because here is the real truth that nobody is willing to tell you: There are no noble people in the world!” That sentiment says far more about Trump’s own life than you may think.

Trump already told us why his life is so bleak. In his own words, he believes we occupy a world devoid of kindness, compassion, and understanding. It’s a cold place, characterized primarily by selfishness and betrayal, where every person looks out for their own interests and is more than willing to lie, steal, and worse. For a moment, forget any other concerns or questions about Trump’s presidency, his legal troubles, and his campaign. Is this really the kind of person that we should admire, that we should look to as an example of steadfast leadership?

Sociopath Patrick Bateman, who occupied the same excessive and glitzy world as Trump, held a philosophy underpinned by a nihilistic core as well. His actions resulted not only from his psychopathic urges, but also an utter detachment from others. “I have all the characteristics of a human being: flesh, blood, skin, hair, but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust.” That inability to empathize and seek meaningful connection with people, especially when they’re different from you, signals a deficiency rather than a strength. It should be no surprise that it’s backed by sizable research as well. (Forbes: “Empathy Is The Most Important Leadership Skill According To Research”)

For nearly two decades I lived outside the United States and visited dozens of countries, from Europe to Africa to Asia. In those years my work and travel led me to interact with hundreds of people from diverse cultures, backgrounds, and experiences. It included working with one of the richest men in the world—far beyond the wealth Trump possesses—and many who had nothing but the clothes they were wearing. Yet most shared commonalities: a sense of humor, optimism and hope, and a curiosity about their fellow humans. They began from a position of kindness and respect, and saw others through that lens.

I would hope that more of us still believe in that world as opposed to the one Trump claims we live in today, the one he has referred to in similar terms repeatedly. We also have the evidence to back that up against his fear mongering.  Despite the high profile conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza, by most measures the world has trended toward peace for the last several decades. (Science Daily: “Study settles the score on whether the modern world is less violent”) Rates of poverty continue to drop in most countries. (Our World In Data: “Extreme poverty: How far have we come, and how far do we still have to go?”) In general we are healthier, happier, and living longer.

This isn’t to say that we don’t experience conflict and loss in our lives, but most of us find a way to cut away the dead wood of our past. Trump has not; he remains inextricably tied to his history. Seeing the world momentarily through his eyes makes his dark rhetoric more understandable, but it doesn’t explain how he became this way. Delving into his past reveals how he became the man he is.

Friedrich Trump, Donald Trump's grandfather, sailed to the United States from Germany in the late 1890s, joining a host of other immigrants. The family fortune originated in one of his businesses: he opened a lucrative hotel and brothel during the Klondike Gold Rush, advertising prostitution in local newspapers and amassing a small fortune. (This Canadiana: “The Brothel Behind the Trump Fortune”) After attempting to return to Germany, where his repatriation was rejected due to having dodged military service, he and his family settled in New York, where he remained until dying in the pandemic of 1918. (The Guardian: “Historian finds German decree banishing Trump's grandfather”)

The many ironies should be clear: immigrant origins, wealth built through using others, and an avoidance of service. However, the person who shaped Donald Trump was Friedrich’s first son, Fred Trump. Born in 1905, he turned his inheritance—including real estate projects—into a small empire after his father’s death through ruthless business dealings. Yet Donald was not Fred Trump’s intended heir. Only when his eldest son, Fred Jr, refused to take over the family business did Donald become the favored child. (The New York Times: “For Donald Trump, Lessons From a Brother’s Suffering”) Fred Jr. died in 1981 at 42 years old, broken by his father's expectations and struggles with alcoholism.

Fred Trump was by most accounts a tyrant, a man who equated kindness and empathy with weakness. He began to mold Donald in his image: “[Donald] learned it, they say, at home, particularly from his father, a disciplinarian who spent hundreds of millions of dollars financing his son’s career and taught him to either dominate or submit. In Fred Trump’s world, showing sadness or hurt was a sign of weakness.” Everything boiled down to winning, and seizing the things that would help him achieve his goals, regardless of who could be hurt in the process. (The New York Times: “Like Father, Like Son: President Trump Lets Others Mourn”)

Like Cy Tolliver in Deadwood, who bears striking similarities to all three of these Trump men, all was stripped away from Donald Trump through this other than his cynicism and ambition. Joanie Stubbs summed up his character best: “You lack the capacity to be kind. Or to trust in anyone’s decency, or even to recognize it.” Perhaps in certain circumstances it could be a useful trait, one that enables someone to take swift action without regard for consequences. Yet clearly, based on his own account and his continued treatment of his campaign like a business vendetta, Trump lacks the ability to turn that instinct off, to express kindness, compassion, and empathy even for those he may not always agree with.

The problem is that a country can’t be run that way, nor does the world work that way. Solving our issues won’t emerge from ruthless, vicious action at the expense of others. Our economy can’t be run like a Monopoly game with only a single winner, and our society can’t function like a mafia family that only rewards blind loyalty. Leading the United States in line with our founding values requires negotiation, compromise, and an understanding that at times some people will need an extra hand. A president needs to stand for all Americans, not just those who pledge absolute fealty to him.

As far back as he can likely remember, Trump was molded to be different. It should be a cautionary tale, not one to place on a pedestal, but he looks back on that era fondly, reminiscing about the “good old days” when he could do what he wanted with impunity.

“Where's my Roy Cohn?”

The question, a mere snippet in The New York Times article “Obstruction Inquiry Shows Trump’s Struggle to Keep Grip on Russia Investigation” from 2018, holds deeper meaning than almost any other words Trump has uttered. It reveals just as much about his past and the forces that shaped him as the rigid expectations of his father. Cohn, an infamous New York lawyer and power player, remains one of the least discussed parts of Trump’s history despite his notoriety and impact.

In 1973 Trump met Roy Cohn for the first time, sparking a mentorship that would last over a decade. The pale, gaunt attorney gave Trump and his father a tip for dealing with the housing discrimination case brought by the federal government: fight the charges and don’t admit anything. “Cohn’s playbook for the race discrimination suit became an enduring guide for Trump in handling future crises: Deny everything, fight back, and go on the offensive to declare victory.” (PBS: “‘All About the Fight’: How Donald Trump Developed His Political Playbook”) In the first of a long series of cases throughout the years, Trump settled and as part of the agreement did not have to sign a statement of any wrongdoing.

This tough guy approach bears more than a passing resemblance to the code of organized crime, and it should be little surprise that Cohn represented some of the most notorious mafia figures of his time, including members of the famed Five Families. Though far from a well known name for most of middle America, Cohn possessed a fearsome reputation among those who had need of his services: "Prospective clients who want to kill their husband, torture a business partner, break the government’s legs, hire Roy Cohn. He is a legal executioner—the toughest, meanest, loyalest, vilest, and one of the most brilliant lawyers in America. He is not a very nice man." (Esquire: "Don’t Mess with Roy Cohn")

That willingness to mingle with the darker elements of society and maintain a relationship with known criminals carried over to Trump, who similarly had no compunction in catering to mobsters as long as they helped him build his empire. (Newsweek: “Donald Trump's Mafia Connections: Decades Later, Is He Still Linked to the Mob?”) Trump benefited not only from Cohn's guidance and legal protection, but also his vast network of powerful people. The symbiotic relationship between them mimicked that of Jimmy Conway and the brash Tommy DeVito, as did Jimmy’s advice: "you never rat on your friends and you always keep your mouth shut."

DeVito flourished in a world built on intimidation, violence, and a lack of ethics. Trump excelled at absorbing everything that Cohn taught.  From a disdain for the government to the boisterous persona to the reliance on plausible deniability as a strategy, his behavior remains entirely grounded in Cohn’s lessons. “At a most formative moment for Trump, there was no more formative figure than Cohn…Trump was Cohn’s most insatiable student and beneficiary. ‘He didn’t just educate Trump, he didn’t just teach Trump, he put Trump in with people who would make Trump,’ Marcus, his cousin, told me. “Roy gave him the tools. All the tools.” (Politico: “The Final Lesson Donald Trump Never Learned From Roy Cohn”)

The infamous Senator Joseph McCarthy–who appears in archive footage in Good Night, and Good Luck–reignited fears of communism during the late 1940s to early 1950s, claiming that the country was being infiltrated by hundreds of Soviet agents. This Red Scare marked a period of Hollywood blacklisting, dozens of congressional hearings, and hundreds of interrogations and arrests. It ended with a handful of actual Soviet spies being identified and prosecuted, and thousands of innocents accused and their lives ruined. (History: “Red Scare: Cold War, McCarthyism & Facts”) Finally censured and disgraced in December of 1954, McCarthy’s political career fell into shambles, and he died three years later. 

In response to the Mueller investigation in 2018, Trump wrote “Study the late Joseph McCarthy” on Twitter, implying that he was the victim of a “witch hunt” similar to the one created by McCarthyism. Trump would do well to take his own advice. Throughout the televised sessions led by McCarthy, a young Cohn sat by his side and whispered in the senator’s ear, as did the father of Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. Today Trump evokes the same unfounded hysteria over communism we have witnessed for over 100 years. History again plays with irony.

The turning point for McCarthy came after increasingly harsh attacks in which he accused the United States Army of harboring communists, including one young member of their legal team. Cohn played a central role in those accusations, aggressively questioning alleged connections with no evidence. Army counsel Joseph Welch famously rebuked them, asking “Have you no decency?” As McCarthy fumbled, next to him a furious Cohn could be seen grimacing and shaking his head.

Only 27 years old at the time, Cohn had repeatedly dodged the draft, built a reputation for providing “favors” for his friends, and enjoyed a lavish lifestyle funded by his wealthy and influential family. Three years prior, in 1951, he had drawn the attention of FBI head J. Edgar Hoover for high-profile convictions of the Rosenbergs and other alleged communists. Impressed by the brash and aggressive lawyer, Hoover–another figure famous for his abuse of power–recommended him to McCarthy as his chief counsel. (NPR: “President Trump Called For Roy Cohn, But Roy Cohn Was Gone”)

That same year Cohn gave an interview and said something strikingly familiar. When asked why so many of the upper class became enamored with communism, he immediately responded with a populist answer, claiming the members of the very “elite” that he was a part of “think that they’re a little smarter than they actually are.” Cohn knew how to play on prejudices and fears to garner support. With McCarthy diminished, he resigned from his position and went on to establish his own law firm, launching a successful but highly controversial career that included accusations of “bribery, perjury, mail fraud, obstruction of justice, and extortion.” He was never convicted. (Britannica: “Roy Cohn”)

The end of McCarthy wasn’t the end for him, nor was it the end of the long-lived fears over communism, a paranoia that inevitably lacks substance.

More than anything, that kind of person wants one thing: unconditional respect. They covet the adulation of the masses and will do anything to get it, even if it means committing the very crimes that they claim to stand against. Cobblepot, or rather Penguin, made it clear what he thought about the very masses he sought to court: "The voters of Gotham City are idiots!" Recall Trump’s own awkward admission about his own followers: “I love the poorly educated!” (NBC: “Donald Trump: I Love The Poorly Educated”)

The Penguin’s “respectable” rise to power has played out repeatedly for the last 70 years. Like Cohn and the men he influenced, from Joseph McCarthy to Richard Nixon to Robert Stone, Trump wants to operate within the public eye without actually following rules and laws that they swore to uphold. They strive to present a clean public image and make widespread appeals to the people they’re courting. Behind the scenes, like a creature from the sewer, they’re rolling in the muck that they so publicly criticize, trying to manipulate the system to ensure that they win and profit.

The lessons of Cohn shine through once more: “Deny everything, fight back, and go on the offensive to declare victory.” 

Skeptics will point to the alleged corruption within all of our public officials, but the bottom line is that this doesn’t reflect reality. Despite our American tendency to criticize those we elect, “the U.S. is one of the least politically corrupt countries in the world, ranking number 24 out of 180 nations.” (USC Price: “What causes political corruption? USC Price experts explain”) Perhaps it would be more accurate then to say that our concerns relate more to the influence of wealth in our system as shown in Pew’s research “Money, power and the influence of ordinary people in American politics.” Max Shreck providing the shadowy support for Penguin comes to mind.

Yet that raises an equally troubling question: why then is there so much support for Trump, a billionaire backed by the world’s richest man (and plenty others as detailed in “Here Are Trump’s Top Billionaire Donors” from Forbes)? One may argue that Harris has an equal number of wealthy donors backing her, to which two simple observations can be made. First, that’s the nature of every campaign, with each side courting some powerful and influential people, and in this case many of those supporting Harris have made clear commitments to humanitarian causes and investing their wealth for the public. One, and only one, in support of Trump has signed the Giving Pledge: Bernard Marcus. Second, Harris does not have the personal or public record that Trump does, particularly in relation to his commitment to further empowering and rewarding the elite.

Think for a moment of all the points we’ve passed through to get here. This is a man who openly admitted to being immensely greedy and prideful, who acknowledged his strategy for manipulating public opinion decades before the presidency, who openly denigrated women again and again, who refused to take responsibility for his failures in business and in office, who echoed rhetoric from Nazi Germany, who espoused a worldview defined by winners and losers, and who shamelessly promised to further empower the rich. His flaws, just like Penguin’s, are in full display. If, after all of those acknowledgements that he made in his own words, you still believe him when he says he has done nothing wrong and has only your interests in mind, the Batman villain was right about one thing: “The masses want a show, so let’s give them one.”

We learned too late that McCarthy and Cohn sought to increase their own status more than protect our country. We learned too late that Nixon sought to consolidate his power and destroy his political opponents rather than serve the people. We learned too late that Reagan’s policies, partly shaped by the very era that Cohn created, benefited the wealthy far more than average Americans. Start believing Trump when he tells you who he is. This man will use the system to empower himself, enrich himself, and sell you a lie: that he’s the shining leader who steps into the arena, fighting only for us.

Trump will vehemently argue against that. He’ll claim that he’s the victim, that everything is rigged against him, and that he is indeed the one fighting against a nefarious “deep state” that is determined to stop him and control the American public. Even today he cries about being mocked and attacked after creating the very culture that encouraged it. Therein lies the problem: he is the one with power, the power to shape business, society, and even the direction of our country. He has always been the one with that power.

For more than seven decades Trump has been a part of the nation’s privileged elite, a figure who kept company with sports stars, celebrities, politicians, judges, and CEOs. His entire life immersed him in a world that few of us ever have the opportunity to touch, let alone benefit from repeatedly. If you think that Trump has turned his back on it, that he’s now fighting for the average citizens of his imaginary empire, you’d be completely wrong. Spent an hour browsing through the Getty Images archival photos and looking at all the familiar faces. This is the world he was born into, one that has always protected and insulated him, and it’s the world he’s desperately trying to reign.

Commodus, born into wealth and privilege as well, shared that desperation for approval and validation even while recognizing how unworthy he was: “You wrote to me once, listing the four chief virtues: wisdom, justice, fortitude, and temperance. As I read the list, I knew I had none of them. But I have other virtues, father. Ambition. That can be a virtue when it drives us to excel. Resourcefulness, courage, perhaps not on the battlefield, but... there are many forms of courage. Devotion, to my family and to you. But none of my virtues were on your list.”

Even Trump’s own family once echoed the same disappointment and disapproval shown by the father of Commodus. In 1990, with his personal life and business empire in crisis due to his own ambitions and lusts, his son cried, “You don’t love us! You don’t even love yourself. You just love your money.” His mother Mary, ashamed by his actions and behavior, simply asked, “What kind of son have I created?” In typical fashion, Trump ignored them and the wife he was cheating on, instead centering his concerns on how the fallout could impact his public image. (Vanity Fair: “After the Gold Rush”) 

John Adams once wrote, “Private virtue is the character to govern oneself according to moral law at all times. Public virtue is the character to voluntarily sacrifice or subjugate personal wants for the greater good of other individuals or the community. Specific moral virtues include charity, justice, courage, temperance, reverence, prudence, and honesty. These virtues are the moral fiber and moving force to act in accordance with wisdom.” (John Adams Academy: “Public and Private Virtue”) Speak to anyone who has known Trump, anyone from his inner circle, and ask them if these virtues embody Trump. I think you already know the answer you’ll receive. How far we have fallen.

The presidency didn’t change Donald Trump, neither in his motivations nor his power. We changed, and the country changed. If you’ve forgotten about that transformation, revisit our own reactions in “How America Changed During Donald Trump’s Presidency” from Pew Research: the division, the confusion, and the exhaustion. Trump wants you to forget that, to once again restore him to glory as he angrily condemns his enemies. There’s a simple reason for that: like Commodus, Trump is scared. He’s scared of losing, he’s scared of finally being held accountable for his crimes, and he’s scared of losing the empire he inherited. We’ve seen what’s behind the fury and bluster: striking first with no mercy. 

Buried deep in the 1990 Vanity Fair article is another note, perhaps more innocuous at the time, that now feels prescient: “‘Donald is a believer in the big-lie theory,’ his lawyer had told me. ‘If you say something again and again, people will believe you.’”

This is the real Trump. He’s not a king. He’s not a general. People like him and Cohn represent one thing: bullies. As is the case with all bullies, they internalize the self-proclaimed wrongs done to them and lash out at anyone they perceive as weak. When you challenge them, they sputter and keep trying to fight back, spouting taglines designed to make them appear tough. But the truth behind the facade of strength and power quickly becomes apparent: they are all sad figures with tragic backstories and a deep-seeded desire to remain relevant. 

John Kreese of the Karate Kid films and Netflix series Cobra Kai couldn’t let go of the past either. His experience in Vietnam profoundly shaped him, and he embraced the philosophy of winning no matter the cost. That obsession began to drive every decision he made, pulling those around him into a cycle of anger, violence, and revenge. The depiction perfectly aligns to the psychology of real-life bullies: “One of the difficulties with bullies is that they often start out with more power because they are bigger, stronger, or in a position of authority. They also suck in power from everyone around them, so their strength seems to grow as their victims' strength diminishes.” (Psychology Today: “Bullying”)

Trump learned his bullying tactics in his youth at a military academy, where he put the harsh lessons of his father into practice and developed a reputation for pushing others around. The result was nothing if not predictable, and “Trump would emerge from military school with a blueprint for leadership by force and ridicule.” (PBS: “Trump the ‘Bully’: How Childhood & Military School Shaped the Future President”) Like Kreese, he never evolved beyond those tendencies and in fact honed them under the tutelage of Roy Cohn.

Do you think you can even tell the difference between Trump and Kreese, the ultimate bully? Without searching or using any resources at all, try to determine which man said each of the following phrases:

• “Life will kick you around, you make choices, and you have to own them. You want to be respected, you have to take it.”

• “Real power is fear…you have to create a certain amount of fear.”

• “There’s no honor in being merciful. Honor is in victory.”

• “There’s no room for weakness in this world.”

• “You have to use fear. It’s what keeps you alive.”

• “I believe in the law of the jungle. You either adapt or die.”

• “When somebody challenges you, fight back. Be brutal, be tough.”

• “The world is a tough place, and you can’t let people push you around. You have to take what you want and not expect anyone to give it to you.”

• “They strike first, you strike back harder.”

• “I don’t get mad. I get even.”

• “Weakness is unacceptable.”

• “Winning is everything. The only thing that matters is winning.”

To be honest, I lost track almost immediately after gathering those quotes together and had to put them in a consistent order. Every odd numbered quote is from John Kreese, and every even numbered quote is from Donald Trump. The similarities are frighteningly close.

Therein lies the fundamental point. This is not a well adjusted person. This is not a kind, compassionate leader, which indeed represents the most effective form of leadership. (Gallup: “Effective Leadership: What Makes a Good Leader”) This is not someone who will strive to care for all Americans and put their interests first. Bullies put one person and one person alone above all others: themselves. That doesn’t change when they grow older, and it doesn’t change when they’re handed more power. If anything, their malicious tendencies are amplified. Dozens of research studies over decades clearly demonstrate the outcome: organizations and communities characterized by fear, division, and toxicity. (UK National Health Service: “Leadership styles and bullying – Evidence review”)

Bullies persist because we let them persist. John Kreese was only stopped when he was betrayed by someone just as villainous as him in a carefully orchestrated plot. No such barrier exists for Trump. This election is not far, far away, and we are the ones who may put a bully into the White House, driven by his vision of the world as a place of brutal competition, violence, and revenge. What happens when you give someone like that almost unlimited power once again?

As always, Trump can’t resist telling you himself, foreshadowing what has been in the background all along. When he retakes the White House, he claims that he will uncover and defeat the “deep state,” leading to a new era of safety and security. A second Trump presidency will mean a new chapter for our country: eliminating bureaucracy, strengthening our police and military to ensure the rule of law, and defending our ideals with force if necessary. The endless wars will be replaced with peace, and anarchy with stability.

Some may read that and ask what could possibly be wrong with such confident and innocuous goals. The issue is not the message. It’s the messenger. Consider this: yet again, everything I just wrote is almost verbatim from Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s speech, the Declaration of a New Order, as he ascended to Emperor. The chaos, the wars, and the destruction of the Jedi were his own doing, all designed to propel him to power. Padmé Amidala said it best: "So this is how liberty dies... with thunderous applause." 

It’s no secret that George Lucas modeled the imagery of the Empire on Nazi Germany, drawing parallels both visually and thematically. However, contrary to what many believe, the Emperor wasn’t meant to be an Adolph Hitler. In fact, he was an American president: Richard Nixon, one of many men propelled to power by Roy Cohn, Trump's mentor. In the words of Lucas, “Richard M. Nixon was his name. He subverted the senate and finally took over and became an imperial guy and he was really evil. But he pretended to be a really nice guy…Because the democracies aren’t overthrown; they’re given away.” (History: “The Real History That Inspired ‘Star Wars’”)

Much has been made of recent comparisons of Trump to Hitler. Regardless of what others claim and the parallels in the language they use, Trump is no Hitler. As already observed, he’s the ultimate opportunist. He’ll embrace any political system, any position, as long as it advances his own interests and puts him into power. Surprisingly, Palpatine did the same. Under his rule the Empire continued to function with a capitalist system, and the inhabitants continued to enjoy many of their basic freedoms provided they adhered to one rule: surrender to his power.

That formed the core of the Emperor’s philosophy. Promise peace but rule by fear. Promise safety but quash dissent. Promise stability but enrich only those in power. While the films largely focused on the main heroes and villains, it didn’t touch on the impact of the Emperor’s actions. A professor and economist, Dr. Zachary Feinstein, took it on himself to actually analyze the economic impact, including the destruction of each Death Star, Palpatine’s promised tools for “peace,” created by imposing onerous financial and economic requirements on each star system. His conclusions were strikingly similar to what would happen in a similar scenario. (Fulton Sun: “'Star Wars' economics: Researcher analyzes the Empire”)

Now consider the Republican Party’s own platform, endorsed by Trump, which includes a call to “invest in cutting-edge research and advanced technologies, including an Iron Dome Missile Defense Shield, support our Troops with higher pay, and get woke Leftwing Democrats fired as soon as possible.” Consider the beginning of Palpatine’s speech in which he claimed “we never suspected that the greatest threat came from within” in reference to the Jedi and remember what Trump just said: “The crazy lunatics that we have — the fascists, the Marxists, the communists, the people that we have that are actually running the country…those people are more dangerous — the enemy from within — than Russia and China and other people.” (AP: “Who does Trump see as ‘enemies from within’?”)

Put me in power, and I'll keep our country secure. Put me in power and I'll defeat those who are insidiously working from within to destroy us. Put me in power and I'll construct the tools to ensure safety and prosperity. Put me in power, and I'll profit...but you'll profit too. By now I shouldn’t have to point anymore to his own words to let you judge his sincerity. Trump has, and always will, tell you who he is. He may be a simple bully, but give him power, and he has already told you what he’ll become. Believe him, contradictions and all. As we approach the final few days before the election, it’s those contradictions that we must unravel.

Given everything we’ve learned about Trump and his own discordant words throughout the years, it can be difficult to nail down his actual views. It also means he wholly deserves the questions, criticism, and condemnation he receives. After all, Trump himself is the one who has always claimed to have a thick skin…until he doesn’t. He’s the one who has claimed to be tougher than everybody…until he isn’t. His policies are the greatest…until he argues against them himself as he recently did by promising to end a tax deduction that he himself implemented. (Roll Call: “Trump does U-turn on ‘SALT’ deduction cap”)

A lifelong embrace of “a little hyperbole” over facts and truth directly results in this absurd contradiction: he must ultimately fight himself when his stories don’t align. (Politico: “Donald Trump’s Greatest Self-Contradictions”) So many conflicting statements are thrown out that you can’t help but wonder if you’re watching the “meek” and “loyal” Smeagol or the angry, vindictive Gollum at any given moment. Like most of us, Smeagol began as a good person with a few flaws. But the corrupting influence of the One Ring quickly transformed him, creating the dual personality of the resentful, selfish Gollum.

Many over the years have cited the One Ring as the ultimate example of the corrupting influence of power. The reality of Tolkien’s mythology harbors far more complexities. It examines the phenomenon through multiple dimensions and portrays the ring as an easy means to power, one that exacerbates the worst flaws of its wielder if they let themselves be seduced by it. Boromir represents the most prominent example, a good and noble man who let his fear override his better judgment. Any who harbor selfishness, envy, or pride fall to its corruption quickly and, at times, irreversibly.

The story also clearly indicates that some forms of power, developed through a crucible that molds resilience and compassion, can create wise and just rulers. No one embodies that more in the books and films than Aragorn, a king without a throne who refused the ring as a means of reclaiming it. He instead recognizes that the suffering and trials he must endure shape him into a better man and ultimately will make him a better king, one who serves all rather than wielding power over them. One of the most powerful scenes near the end of the film trilogy captures this, as he goes to one knee and tells the hobbits who sacrificed so much “You bow to no one.”

Trump is no Aragorn, and that fact is undeniable. Everyone from his childhood cites a youth who bullied and belittled others. Those from his early career cites a young man who was shaped by his father to be a ruthless, callous leader. Many who knows him from his middle years points to the darkness that grew when he embraced Roy Cohn. We've all heard heard Trump’s own admissions, his acknowledgement of the greed and envy that has driven him his entire life, and we've seen in put into practice at the rallies filled with starkly inconsistent messages of American greatness and unvarnished rage.

Like Gollum, the Trump we know emerged when he was handed the reins of power not once, but repeatedly through his father, through his wealth, through his connections to other elites, and through the vote of the American public in 2016. We shouldn’t be surprised that it brought out the worst in him. Is there a spark of goodness deep within? Yes, just as Smeagol remained a part of Gollum throughout the years. But in both cases, that goodness lies buried, emerging only sporadically before being subverted once more by the dominant darkness.

That dual personality best reflects the mayhem, unpredictability, and multifaceted nature of Donald Trump. We tolerate Smeagol, accepting his quirks and coarseness, and sometimes even feel sympathy for him when he shows generosity, loyalty, and kindness. Trump utterly lacks that balance, and the humor found in watching him only results from the absurd nature of his foolish behavior and words. He has always openly and willingly shown us who he is in its entirety. It has revealed a strange dichotomy: a man who creates levity and serves as the butt of jokes but whose selfish decisions and actions have very real consequences for others, a man who puts forward an image of strength and power but doesn’t want you to look behind the curtain.

Five days remain, and we must look back and to the future to capture each part of that dichotomy.

No one captures the unserious side of Donald Trump better than Biff Tannen, a character that was actually modeled after him for the second film in the famed trilogy (Variety: “‘Back to the Future’ Writer: Donald Trump Inspired Biff”). From the insults, bullying, and fighting to the lying, crassness, and sense of entitlement, it can be hard to take Biff seriously. He’s a nasty human being, but we tolerate him as a joke, a comedic villain. However, that’s largely because his arrogance, ignorance, and cruelty were curbed.

Trump’s over-the-top personality and absurd, grandiose claims can be just as amusing as Biff’s. His exaggerated expressions and gaffes make equal fodder for jokes. But the self-absorbed narcissism wears on you after a time, and if you think he isn’t a vainglorious man, you need to re-read everything he has said again and again over the past decade: “The beauty of me is that I’m very rich.” “No president ever worked harder than me.” “[M]y two greatest assets have been being, like, really smart…not smart, but genius.” “I know words. I have the best words.” “All of the women on The Apprentice flirted with me…that’s to be expected.” If you don’t believe him, why don’t you make like a tree and get outta here?

Even the film’s many references to plastic surgery hit close to home. Everyone can see Trump’s ridiculous fake tan lines. But that obsession with his image and looks even led him to liposuction and hair transplants, a point reported as far back as 1991: “Donald, [Ivana] said, had flabby bulges on his chin and waist removed by liposuction. The operation was performed by Dr. Hoefflin at the New York offices of Dr. Lawrence S. Reed. Donald also attempted to forestall creeping baldness by getting hair transplants; they were supplemented by a scalp-reduction procedure that decreased the total surface area of his scalp.” (Esquire: “Donald Trump Gets Small”)

The fundamental problem is that all of these seemingly benign vanities distract from his deeper flaws—the self-acknowledged greed, recklessness, and especially pride—that are a permanent part of Trump’s personality regardless of how silly he may sometimes appear. He said it best himself: “I am what I am.” What happens when those flaws are present in a man born into wealth and power and lifted to even greater heights? We saw exactly that with Biff when Marty visits an alternate 1985, one in which Biff has remade Hill Valley in his image. Again: that vision was explicitly based on Donald Trump, years before he ran for president. They clearly knew who he was then, yet so many seem unwilling to recognize it now.

Tim Walz finally landed on the conclusion that we intuitively feel: Trump is just weird, an assessment that he repeatedly denies and obsesses over, seemingly unable to cope with someone portraying him this way. That simply makes his behavior all the more abnormal. “Contented people, well-grounded people, people at ease inside their skin, just don’t behave the way Trump does… The behavior is less id than infant—the most narcissistic stage of the human life cycle.” (TIME: “The Truth About Donald Trump’s Narcissism”) Yes, Trump is still simply the bully at heart, the one who dishes it out but can’t take it. Yes, his behavior and preening can make you laugh.

But we elevated that bully just as Biff was elevated. We gave Trump the great house he needed to rule over his domain, and he’s determined to regain control of it once more, seeing it as his and his alone.  A great man doesn’t seek to lead; he’s called to it. Trump is not that man, and his darker side is as stark and barren of life as a desert.

"My desert. My Arrakis. My Dune." The most memorable villain in Dune ruled over one of the most powerful houses in the universe but still coveted more influence and control. His obsession twisted both his body and mind as he grew fat from gluttony and dreamed of dominating everything around him. The only thing that mattered was controlling the invaluable spice of Arrakis, a single-minded ambition that justified every cruelty, every act of revenge, and every deceit.

This is the other, darker side of Trump. He shares that lust for power and will do everything he can to enter the White House once again. Many claims have been lobbied against him, with his opponents labeling him a fascist, a dictator, and more. They’re wrong. Again, Trump is one thing above all else: an opportunist. Whatever policy position, issue, or dubious action that gives him an advantage will be embraced regardless of where it falls on the political spectrum.

Nor is this a new aspect of his personality, but rather a deeply ingrained trait. By 1992 we already clearly knew this about him when he sought to protect his floundering empire by manipulating the system: “When Congress last overhauled the bankruptcy laws in 1978, it sought to make it easier for people and businesses to recover from financial ruin. But in practice, the system Congress created favors debtors over creditors, the people who owe money over the people to whom it is owed, many specialists say...Trump understood that his creditors were reluctant to push him into bankruptcy, and he used their fear to his advantage.” (The Washington Post: “Trump Went Broke, But Stayed on Top”)

Fear. So much of the power Trump wields, just like Baron Harkonnen, rests in manipulating that deep-seeded emotion. He’ll tell you to fear immigrants. He’ll tell you to fear the prospect of a new world war. He’ll tell you to fear losing your hard-earned money. He’ll tell you to fear the prospect of crime, a possibility no matter where you live. He’ll even tell you to fear your own neighbors who may have differing views. “And no President has weaponized fear quite like Trump… He shapes public opinion by emphasizing dangers—both real and imaginary—that his policies purport to fix.” (TIME: “No President Has Spread Fear Like Donald Trump”)

Even if you believe him the slightest bit, remember that Baron Harkonnen made such a terrifying villain because of his total lack of moral grounding, or any consistency at all in his underlying philosophy. He was utterly amoral, a man who would say and do anything to maintain power. Do you think Trump is any different? Consider this: in the past few weeks, desperate to gain more votes, he has reversed his position on virtually everything that his own followers claim they oppose:

• He proposed free higher education for all (Forbes: "Trump’s “American Academy” Is An Awful Idea").

• He claimed he has never wanted to end the Affordable Care Act, better known as Obamacare (Donald Trump on X).

• He praised Muslims, calling them "the warmest people" who "want peace. They’re great people." (The New York Times: "What Muslim Ban? Trump Tries to Sidestep Years of Islamophobia.")

• He promised to cut all income taxes while simultaneously eliminating the national debt (Grant Thornton: "Growing list of Trump tax promises complicates 2025 outlook").

• He proposed reversing the very tax deduction cap that he himself implemented (CNBC: "Trump, who signed SALT deduction cap into law, now vows to 'get SALT back'")

• He repeatedly flip-flopped on abortion and suggested that states are now imposing limits that are too harsh (The Hill: "Trump ties himself in knots on abortion")

• He embraced crypto and launched his own cryptocurrency after previously calling it a "scam" (AP: "Donald Trump doesn’t share details about his family’s cryptocurrency venture during X launch event").

• He went from saying electric vehicle owners should "rot in hell" to embracing the technology...naturally after getting the support of Elon Musk (Politico: "Never mind Trump’s new rhetoric — he’s still gunning for EVs")

• He even heavily pushed absentee voting on his social media feeds, encouraging Republicans to use the very method he says can't be trusted.

In doing so he has made overt “deals” and “offers” to influential people and groups across the political spectrum, promising each a quid pro quo that is often mutually exclusive to his other positions. “So it is very transactional, and it also shows that he is devoid of any real beliefs.” (The Washington Post: “From Israel to crypto, Trump takes a transactional approach to issues”) The villain that appears in the book captured the sentiment most accurately: "I will bend my energies to this," the Baron muttered. "Anything to crush that cursed Atreides line." Simply replace the second half with “Anything to regain the White House and crush those who oppose me.”

Trump even exceeds Baron Harkonnen in his manipulations. If there’s one key difference between them, it’s that he learned decades ago how to channel his ambitions in a more presentable manner, packaging greed, anger, and fear in an elaborate illusion that others would embrace. It’s no mystery why some people struggle to see the real Trump: he spins a web of “fake news,” “mainstream media,” and “biased journalists.” He tells them that they should trust him and the information he shares.

Before you believe that, before you cast your vote for him, listen to his own words one last time.

In 1991 an Esquire writer spent several weeks with Donald Trump for an article, “Donald Trump Gets Small.” Trump’s empire had collapsed for the first time, though not the last. He had to be bailed out by banks in a highly publicized agreement six months prior (The New York Times: “Trump Signs Bailout Pact”), and his wealth dropped to negative figures. His newly acquired casino was failing just as his marriage to Ivana had. He appeared frequently with Marla Maples, an affair that began while he was still with Ivana, and Maples wanted him to propose due to another affair. One would expect a man in that situation to perhaps show the smallest bit of humility, to acknowledge that he perhaps didn’t possess the golden touch.

But this is Trump. It instead marked the moment he offered this "golden" piece of wisdom: “it really doesn’t matter what they write as long as you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.”

Six years later another article appeared: “Trump Solo” from The New Yorker. Like the earlier interview, it revealed another low point for the brash and egotistical pseudo celebrity. His second marriage to Maples had ended, and his dreams of becoming New York’s most celebrated developer had largely evolved into a simpler strategy: license the family name and profit. “By appearing to exert control over assets that aren’t necessarily his—at least not in ways that his pronouncements suggest—he exercises his real talent: using his name as a form of leverage.”

The same Trump we now know appears again and again throughout the interview, the one who pointed to a parade he participated in and claimed, “O.K., I see this story says a half million spectators. But, trust me, I heard a million four.” He called his own hotel “[o]ne of the great buildings anywhere in New York, anywhere in the world.” He even discussed his deal with Russian business acquaintances to erect a giant statue of Christopher Columbus, larger than the Statue of Liberty, on the Hudson River: “Yes, it’s already been made… See what I do? All this bullshit. Know what? After shaking five thousand hands, I think I’ll go wash mine.” The statue now sits in Puerto Rico and has been long forgotten. His dealings with Russian oligarchs, forged during his first visit to the Soviet Union in 1987, continued to grow.

Buried deep in that article is a telling exchange. After hearing Trump speak to a banker over the phone, the interviewer inquired about the confusing conversation. Trump replied with a stark admission: “Whatever complicates the world more I do. It’s always good to do things nice and complicated so that nobody can figure it out.”

Don’t believe the reports that I lost my wealth, and don’t even believe the bailout papers I signed. Don’t believe the claims that I have affairs, even when I’m seen in public with those women. Don’t believe the dozens upon dozens of people who say I’m a bad boss and the thousands of lawsuits brought against me and the Trump Organization. Don’t believe what I said before, but rather what I’m saying now.

Don’t believe your own eyes and ears.

With no superpowers, no powerful allies, and no political influence, the MCU villain Mysterio managed to cause just as much chaos—or perhaps even more—as his more famous counterparts. His elaborate illusions created false crises, generating fear and panic, allowing him to swoop in and save the day. Even more disturbing, Mysterio’s final plan made the world believe that Spider-Man bore responsibility for his actions. Earlier, in a rare moment of honesty, he admitted to Peter the basis for his power: "People need to believe, and nowadays, they’ll believe anything.”

Trump’s first run for president, a move after toying with the idea for over a decade, occurred in the election of 2000. A new girlfriend, Melania Knauss, stood by his side, and a long-time friend took over his campaign: Roger Stone. Rather than the Republican ticket, Trump’s goal was to be the Reform Party’s nominee, a position being sought by conservative Pat Buchanan as well. In a piece entitled “Buchanan Is Too Wrong to Correct” that appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Trump attacked him, claiming his rival’s rhetoric echoed Hitler. He also criticized Buchanan’s “extreme” positions on immigration, abortion, and gun control. Buchanan won the nomination that year, leaving Trump to toy with presidential runs again in 2004 and 2012.

Twenty years after “Trump Solo” appeared in The New Yorker, twenty years after saying "[i]t’s always good to do things nice and complicated so that nobody can figure it out," Donald Trump took the oath of office, propelled into the presidency on a platform of anti-immigration, the overthrow of Roe v. Wade, and the absolute right to own any kind of firearm. He asserted that he won the popular vote, one of many claims of election fraud that has not been proven to this day. He even promptly claimed that he drew the largest ever inauguration crowd, stretching "all the way back to the Washington Monument.” When faced with photo and video evidence to the contrary, Trump’s senior advisor Kellyanne Conway claimed that “alternative facts” proved him right.

This is who Trump is. It’s who he was. It’s who he’ll always be. The illusion, however elaborate he attempts to make it, can be pierced. Donald Trump may want to position himself as the hero, but he’s not and he never has been. In fact, it’s just the opposite.

Think back to Trump’s victory at the 2016 Republican National Convention. While much of the country watched in shock, he ascended to his new throne, triumphant…and angry. He had been challenged and mocked, unforgivable sins for the man who claims a large ego. He leaned into that conceit, tapping into fear and anger as he painted his apocalyptic vision of the world and echoed Homelander in an uncanny manner: “You need me to save you, you do. I am the only one who possibly can.”

Trump presents the same clean-cut image and says all the things he thinks we want to hear. Their words blend together, making it almost impossible to tell them apart. Which said “They all love me. Sometimes they don’t, but they will."? Which said “People love me. A lot of people envy me.”? Trump tries to position himself as the self-sacrificing hero just as Homelander does, even going so far as to post poorly edited photos of himself and his sycophants as superheroes. (Donald Trump on Truth Social) All the while he adopts the same uncomplicated worldview, painting the issues we face in black and white.

That carefully cultivated image is not an accident. “The world is so complicated that people long for simple answers and simple personalities — and that's what Trump delivers.” (Deutsche Welle: “How Trump stylizes himself as an American hero”) We know that life is defined by nuance. We know that sometimes much more gray exists in the decisions and challenges we face. Acclaimed director Martin Scorcese once drew criticism for claiming that the modern glut of superhero films doesn’t represent cinema. Whether you agree with his overall premise or not, he made an insightful and accurate observation about the process that leads to their creation: “That’s the nature of modern film franchises: market-researched, audience-tested, vetted, modified, revetted and remodified until they’re ready for consumption.” (The New York Times: “Martin Scorsese: I Said Marvel Movies Aren’t Cinema. Let Me Explain.”)

Now, so close to the end of these 45 days, think of all we’ve learned about Donald Trump: an upbringing that taught him to be a cutthroat in business and life; coaching he received from Roy Cohn, a master at manipulating both his elite connections and public sentiment; his love-hate relationship with the New York media throughout his career; his close friendships with oligarchs like Rupert Murdoch, whose publications portrayed Trump so favorably in the 1970s and 1980s; his books, interviews, and media appearances, all filled with snappy quotes; and his numerous attempts to run for president, including the successful campaign in 2016 on the same platform he criticized so harshly in 2000. These are no mere coincidences. They’re iterations. They’re the creation of a superhero, refined and tested to appeal to the masses.

This is what he dreams of: a country that will embrace him as its savior, a desire that verges on pathological. His social media feeds and digital cards feature dozens of flattering images of him as a tough cowboy, a heroic soldier, and, yes, even more as a triumphant superhero. But as we’ve seen again and again, there’s a profoundly dark side to both Trump and Homelander that they barely attempt to hide and offer endless justifications for: the sexual assaults, the greed, the fury, the ambition, the harshness, the vengeful actions, the bleak view of humanity, and—worst of all—the stark narcissism. Trump doesn’t seek to earn your devotion; he demands it. Revere him, give him your vote, and be saved. Defy him and suffer the consequences: “If they want to fight, we fight.” One last time you have to ask yourself: which man said that? You likely don’t have the answer.

The bottom line is that as clear as this appears to so many of us, it’s precisely why Homelander and Trump retain so many adoring followers. Our modern culture—saturated with an ever-growing number of streaming platforms, social media, and influencers—has transformed us into a nation of warring fandoms, each cheering for our “good” side and attacking their “evil” side. Alan Moore, the famed creator of Watchmen, lambasted this in The Guardian, asserting that “fandom is sometimes a grotesque blight that poisons the society surrounding it with its mean-spirited obsessions and ridiculous, unearned sense of entitlement.” (“‘Fandom has toxified the world’: Watchmen author Alan Moore on superheroes, Comicsgate and Trump”)

Trump’s claim of being the chosen one, and the millions who embrace it, isn’t shocking because he is once again so close to reaching the same heights of a horrifically flawed superhuman. No, the sad reality is much worse: one that we’ll see tomorrow in the final post before the election.

45 days. 45 villains.

Think back to where we started so many days ago: Trump revealing in his first book how he spins a story to create the illusion of success. The tragedy is that the ultimate villain in this story isn’t an incomprehensible evil. The 45th president is an angry old man, a washed-up “reality” television star created for the masses. Before The Apprentice, Trump was a failing businessman with a reputation for cheating and womanizing, a sordid history with people like Roy Cohn and Rupert Murdoch, a squandered inheritance, and enormous debts from multiple bankruptcies. Before you even begin to question the many facts about his past, go back and read every one of the 44 posts that preceded this. Read the dozens of articles from the 1980s and 1990s proving exactly that.

The show reinvented him, presenting a fool as an emperor, and America embraced the fantasy wholeheartedly. Trump relished his time in the spotlight, doing take after take to present the most polished image, the most flattering light, as he shouted his trademark line: “You’re fired!” Like most other purported reality shows, parts of The Apprentice were largely scripted, giving a set role to its star and presenting it as spontaneous. He’s still playing that role, and as The New Yorker so aptly observed in 1997’s “Trump Solo” profile, it’s merely one more part of the same man we have always known:

“Of course, the ‘comeback’ Trump is much the same as the Trump of the eighties; there is no ‘new’ Trump, just as there was never a ‘new’ Nixon. Rather, all along there have been several Trumps: the hyperbole addict who prevaricates for fun and profit; the knowledgeable builder whose associates profess awe at his attention to detail; the narcissist whose self-absorption doesn’t account for his dead-on ability to exploit other people’s weaknesses; the perpetual seventeen-year-old who lives in a zero-sum world of winners and ‘total losers,’ loyal friends and ‘complete scumbags’; the insatiable publicity hound who courts the press on a daily basis and, when he doesn’t like what he reads, attacks the messengers as ‘human garbage’; the chairman and largest stockholder of a billion-dollar public corporation who seems unable to resist heralding overly optimistic earnings projections, which then fail to materialize, thereby eroding the value of his investment—in sum, a fellow both slippery and naïve, artfully calculating and recklessly heedless of consequences.”

Like hundreds of his employees in the Trump Organization and hundreds from his administration, those involved in The Apprentice have since revealed what was behind the curtain. “To sell the show, we created the narrative that Trump was a super-successful businessman who lived like royalty. That was the conceit of the show. At the very least, it was a substantial exaggeration; at worst, it created a false narrative by making him seem more successful than he was.” (U.S. News & World Report: "We Created a Monster: Trump Was a TV Fantasy Invented for 'The Apprentice'") No, this doesn’t represent a single disgruntled marketing executive. 

Others have revealed their stories as well, from producers (Slate: "The Donald Trump I Saw on The Apprentice") to contestants (Business Insider: "12 former 'Apprentice' contestants who have spoken out against Donald Trump"). They all point to the same conclusions, the same reliance on "hyperbole" that Trump himself so steadily employed for most of his life: "we played fast and loose with the facts, particularly regarding Trump, and if you were one of the 28 million who tuned in, chances are you were conned."

A con. Trump was, is, and always will be the same man. Now 78 years old, he has become incapable of change, incapable of understanding that we live in a very different world. He’s one of the last remnants of the elite who flouted the rules the rest of us lived by while constantly seeking our validation: the Cohns, the McCarthys, the Nixons, the Murdochs. For decades, in his own words, he told us who he was. We should have listened. We helped create this monster, and now we must face it. We don’t need a hero. We don’t need to rouse an army. We don’t need to fight at all.

In June of 2024, Intelligencer published an interview with Ramin Setoodeh, a man well known in journalism but likely not familiar to most Americans. He spent several dozen hours with Trump, interviewing him for a book about The Apprentice and in the process revealing a side of the man we hadn’t seen since that first NBC appearance in 1980: one who appeared happy and—for a brief moment—at peace. "The reason he sat down with me, the reason he did more interviews than he did with any other journalist since he left the White House, is because he loves The Apprentice. He’s happiest when he’s talking about it." ("The Apprentice Is the Skeleton Key to Understanding Trump")

Trump dreams of the spotlight, of a stage that gives him his lines and lets him act out his fantasies. It’s what he has always wanted. But America is not a stage. The demanding and complex office of the president doesn’t provide a script. And, most importantly, our lives are not roles within a TV show. Trump is the culmination of a culture that embraced "reality" shows that are anything but that. We deserve better. If we want the madness to end, if we want a return to an America with true public servants who don’t rely on manufactured drama and who don’t seek to divide us, there is only one way to do it. As Setoodeh summarized eloquently, “we have to stop watching.” 

Follow Trump’s example one last time…and tell him that he’s still fired. It’s nothing personal. It’s just business.