It's All Adding Up

The tide is shifting

I have many people in my life who tell me, often with desperation or despair, that nothing seems to matter when it comes to Trump.

That he can say anything, do anything, be anything, and not only avoid accountability for the general horror he embodies, but thrive unscathed, even more powerful. That although there are many millions who abhor him, there are also many millions who will stick by him, defend him, and normalize his worst actions, behavior, and instincts.

And to be fair to all who feel this way, there is an abundance of evidence that he operates in a maddeningly impenetrable sphere of imperviousness. After all, he has been twice elected president despite being supremely unfit for any position of authority in society, let alone the most powerful.

His litany of misdeeds doesn’t just read like a rap sheet, it is one, considering he is a convicted felon who has also been found liable for sexual abuse. And his legal jeopardy would have been far more severe if not for his cronies on the Supreme Court and handpicked patsies like Judge Aileen Cannon, who have given him immunity and protected him through obfuscation, delay, and the egregious rewriting of settled law for his benefit.

He is boorish, crass, and offensive. He has insulted the dead, mocked war heroes, and trafficked in misogynist and racist tropes. He has been credibly accused of sexual assault by several women.

He has shown a complete lack of judgment, insight, or understanding on both domestic and international affairs. He mismanaged the COVID response and has started foolish wars of choice, like the one in Iran.

He is shamelessly corrupt, stunningly uncurious, and gleefully cruel. He is an amoral, narcissistic lout.

I know we each have our own list of Trump nightmares, outrages, and traumatic memories.

And yet, despite all of it, he is president. Again. Even after he led an armed and violent insurrection against the constitutional order that underpins our democracy.

If we were to look back over the years at all the headlines, think pieces, cable talk show panels, or even text chats and conversations with friends and family, how many times did it seem like this was it? That he would be exposed? Hoisted on his own petard? If his latest affront to decency and common sense was not the straw that finally broke the camel’s back, perhaps it would be the extra dollop of bronzer that finally cracked the orange facade.

But we are learning that it does not always work that way.

Not every fight ends with a knockout blow. Not every dam breaks with a single fissure. Trees of significant size do not fall because of a single swing of the axe. Rather, it is the accumulation, hack after hack, creak after creak, that weakens the trunk in ways that are not always fully visible. And then, at some point, there is one more blow. Perhaps it is not even particularly strong or spectacular. And the entire edifice comes crashing down to earth. The product of everything that came before it.

As I consider where Trump is today, I see a man who is incredibly weakened by the mounting toll of his incompetence.

Take the failure we are seeing in Iran. It is not just the bungling of a war, as bad as that would be. It is the utter abdication of leadership, the collapse of a bloated con man who always lacked substance or ballast and was powered by the fleeting forces of hot air.

When you lack substance, you cannot pivot. There is no end in sight, no easy way to shift the conversation away from the judgment of a growing number of the American people, including those who supported him in the past, that he has no idea what he is doing.

In the battles over Trump before, it always felt like the country was cleaved down the center, that victory meant squeezing the margins, rallying your team, and getting enough people to vote in the right places to produce a narrow win.

But this time feels different. The tides are shifting in a more perceptible way. I hope it is not wishful thinking. But there is data to back up that conclusion. Many polls are showing support falling below a floor of 40 percent. Thirty-some-odd percent of Americans is still a hell of a lot of people. But it is nowhere near a majority, or even a plurality.

More than just the numbers, I sense a shift in energy. As I have mentioned, for my latest documentary we are traveling the country, creating conversations with a wide variety of Americans. We are hearing two consistent themes across age groups, geographies, and the political spectrum: sorrow and fatigue. There appears to be little exaltation or excitement about what is happening in Washington. It is as if everyone is ready for a reset, even if they do not agree on what that should look like.

When Trump posts a picture of himself as Jesus with all sorts of strange imagery, even many of his supporters issue statements suggesting they are weary of this circus, of which he is undoubtedly the ringmaster. I mean, when you are taking on the pope, it seems like it may be time to send in the clowns. Unfortunately, they are already in the cabinet.

There are many currents and contradictions that explain Trump’s sustained stain on American political and civic life. It is a product of historic injustice and the quirks of our anxious era, where a man unlike any other in our national story understood how to meet a moment that allowed his vileness to bloom into power.

But as we saw in the Hungarian election this weekend, and as we have seen many times before across history, moments change and movements crumble.

Look across the spectrum of news stories and you can see it in the headlines, even from a pliant press: Trump has lost control of the narrative. As his grip on power and reality becomes ever more tenuous, one can begin to envision a future not only of defeat but also of complete and utter repudiation. A surrender that will have to be unconditional.

And then one can start to imagine what might emerge. Not a return to some previous status quo or a simplistic restoration of bygone norms. Rather, a rejuvenation and reimagination of our national identity, made possible by the wreckage of a rapacious, rudderless, and repugnant regime.