A Perfect 10 Has Nowhere to Go

 

This also appears in O'Dwyer's PR

Years ago, during a job interview, I asked the chairman of a global company how he would rate his organization across a range of measures.

“The company is a 10,” he said.

Not an eight or even a nine and a half. A 10.

I wondered: Really? No dissatisfied customers, no failed employees, no products to improve, no smarter competitors?

Whether his answer reflected confidence, salesmanship, or sincere belief, I knew what bothered me. A 10 leaves you nowhere to go.

Today, we are seeing a far more consequential version of the “10” mindset in President Donald Trump’s effort to reshape how America tells its history.

There is much to celebrate in this country, and debate over history is natural. Historians argue, interpretations change, and new evidence emerges. But starting with the conclusion that America must look good and then filtering facts accordingly is different and dangerous.

In March 2025, Trump issued an executive order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.” The administration argued that recent interpretations had replaced objective history with an ideological narrative portraying the United States as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or irredeemably flawed. The order directed federal historical sites to avoid content that “inappropriately disparage[s]” Americans and to focus on national achievements and progress.

That criticism deserves consideration.

Museums can be selective, ideological, and wrong, too. But the remedy for one-sided history is better history, not government-directed history that leads to a preferred conclusion. A history museum’s purpose is to help us understand what happened, not to make us feel good or bad.

Trump later complained that the Smithsonian was “OUT OF CONTROL” and focused excessively on “how bad Slavery was” rather than American “Success” and “Brightness.”

The dispute has since intensified. In July 2026, Trump issued another order, “Restoring Trust in the Smithsonian Institution,” pressing for changes at the National Museum of American History. In September, the administration threatened to curtail federal agencies’ support for the Smithsonian, including artifact loans, procurement assistance, and discretionary grants.

The campaign extends beyond the Smithsonian. A court-ordered inventory found that the National Park Service had removed at least 51 exhibits from 37 sites, including material about slavery and climate change. A federal judge ordered the exhibits restored, but the administration appealed.

This illustrates the danger. When inconvenient facts are softened or removed because they conflict with an officially preferred national narrative, public history shifts from inquiry to persuasion. When the government decides in advance which conclusions citizens should draw, persuasion can become propaganda.

Propaganda does more than distort the past. It limits what we can do tomorrow. Those who cannot admit mistakes cannot learn. A company convinced that it’s a 10 stops improving. A country taught that acknowledging failure is unpatriotic risks losing democracy’s most vital capacity: self-correction.

There is a revealing contradiction in Trump’s most famous slogan: Make America Great Again. MAGA acknowledges that America can lose its way and needs repair. But “again” points backward, tempting us to polish the past until it shines.

American exceptionalism need not mean American infallibility. The United States was an extraordinary political experiment, founded on ideas of representative government, liberty, and individual rights that inspired people around the world. Taking those ideals seriously requires examining the times the country betrayed them.

The Founders themselves were hardly unanimous about their country’s moral condition. At the Constitutional Convention, Gouverneur Morris called slavery a “nefarious institution” and “the curse of heaven” on the states where it prevailed. George Mason, himself a slaveholder, warned that “Providence punishes national sins, by national calamities.” Yet the Constitution compromised with slavery.

That does not reduce the founding to hypocrisy. It shows that people can accomplish great things even while tolerating profound injustice. Later generations inherit both the achievements and the unfinished work.

The Marquis de Lafayette understood that distinction. When Lafayette returned to the United States in 1824 as a celebrated hero of the Revolution, he remained devoted to the American experiment—and opposed to slavery. At Monticello, Israel Jefferson, an enslaved man who worked there, later recalled hearing Lafayette argue that enslaved people ought to be free and that no man could rightfully own his “brother man.”

Lafayette had risked his life for America. Challenging one of its greatest injustices did not make him hostile to the country. It meant he took its principles seriously.

Honest history explains American progress; it does not diminish America.

Give us Washington, the leader and slaveholder; Jefferson’s Declaration and his failures; westward expansion and its cost to Native Americans; Normandy and Jim Crow.

If America was always a 10, what exactly were all those Americans fighting to change?

Abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights marchers, reformers, and ordinary citizens did not make America less American by exposing the gap between ideals and reality. Much of what we celebrate as progress came because they refused to pretend the country had already arrived.

The Constitution does not proclaim a perfect Union. Its preamble speaks instead of forming “a more perfect Union.” Those two words matter. More perfect means unfinished. Improvement is possible. Tomorrow can be better because we recognize what was wrong with yesterday.

That chairman’s assertion stayed with me because it violated something I have come to believe about successful organizations, people, and countries. The moment you convince yourself you are a 10 is often the moment you stop improving.

America does not need to be told it has always been perfect. It needs honest history that shows what it accomplished and what Americans had to struggle to change.

That is not a rejection of America’s story. It is how the story keeps moving forward.

The Founders Are Still Warning Us, 250 Years Later

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, we will hear tributes to the Founders and see politicians wrap themselves in the “Spirit of 1776.”

My new Hartford Courant opinion piece argues that we should stop treating the Founders as patriotic decoration and take their warnings about executive overreach, congressional weakness, and the use of public office for personal gain seriously.

American exceptionalism is best understood as a commitment to the restraint of power. That commitment is being tested.

Many who most loudly invoke the Founders are not preserving our inheritance. They are squandering it.

Honesty Is Not the Same as Transparency

When I taught strategic communication at NYU, I emphasized a principle that is more misunderstood than ever: always be honest, but don’t assume you must disclose everything. Honesty is an ethical duty; openness is a matter of judgment.

That distinction matters in politics, business, and daily life. It is even more crucial in government, where leaders handle private, sensitive, or consequential information. Public officials should tell the truth, but avoid revealing everything on impulse.

Donald Trump has long blurred that line. He and his defenders equate indiscriminate disclosure with authenticity, as if speaking publicly automatically makes a statement honest, brave, or transparent. It does not. Recklessness is not candor, and indiscretion is not openness. Neither deserves applause.

Two recent episodes highlight this issue. They are not merely examples of poor taste or sloppy leadership; they reflect a deeper confusion about the true nature of honesty.

Earlier this spring, Trump publicly disclosed highly personal medical information about Rep. Neal Dunn of Florida. He said Dunn had been told he would be “dead by June.” Speaker Mike Johnson quickly cut in: “OK, that wasn’t public.” Reports confirmed Trump had revealed information that had not been public before.

The issue is not whether Trump was factually correct. Even if he was, the disclosure is not admirable. A president does not become more truthful by exposing someone else’s private medical crisis; doing so shows a lack of restraint, empathy, and judgment – not honesty. Telling the truth does not grant a license to violate every boundary.

The second example is more troubling because it involved military operations. At a White House briefing on the rescue of a downed American airman in Iran, Trump asked Joint Chiefs Chairman Gen. Dan Caine how many personnel had participated. Caine tried to prevent disclosure, responding, “I’d love to keep that a secret, Mr. President.” Trump persisted, saying it involved “hundreds and hundreds” of people. Media outlets described the exchange and the concerns about revealing sensitive operational details.

Again, the problem is not lying but rather the performance of candor without the discipline required of real leadership. The public deserves to know why a military action was taken, whether it was lawful, what it cost, the risks, and the possible outcomes. That does not mean, however, that a president should brush aside a general seeking to protect sensitive details in real time.

This is where the conversation often goes astray. Transparency does not mean total disclosure. The government should be open about decisions, motives, policies, and the use of power, but it should not treat privacy, confidentiality, or security as expendable. Mature honesty requires discretion.

We recognize this principle in every serious aspect of life. A doctor is expected to tell the truth without exposing a patient’s private condition. A lawyer must be candid without violating privilege. A friend should be honest without betraying a confidence just to appear blunt or “authentic.” The same standard should apply in public office: not every fact belongs on a podium, in a briefing room, or in a president’s improvisation.

Trump’s admirers often mistake his lack of filter for proof of authenticity. When he speaks impulsively, they label it as courage. When he is indiscreet, they interpret it as transparency. However, honesty is not about the volume or frequency of disclosure – it rests on whether what is said is true, responsible, and appropriate for the moment.

That was the lesson I tried to teach my students. As a country, we must reclaim it. Truth matters, and so does judgment. In public life, truth without judgment is not integrity – it is carelessness masquerading as virtue.

X Has a Free Speech Problem — and I'm Living It

X recently suspended my account for “violating our rules against inauthentic behaviors.” That was the entirety of the explanation. X cited no specific post, identified no pattern of misconduct, and offered no definition of what, precisely, it considered inauthentic about my activity. There was no warning. I appealed, asked for specifics, and followed up. I received nothing in return. X’s own policies state that its authenticity rules target manipulation through fake accounts, coordinated behavior, and deceptive content — and that users may appeal suspensions made in error. In my case, the appeals process has led nowhere.

That silence should concern more than just me.

I was not impersonating anyone, using bots, running fake accounts, purchasing engagement, concealing my identity, or orchestrating any coordinated campaign. I posted under my own name, in my own voice, on matters of public concern. (You can still see my news and views on Threads.)

I also created images lampooning the president. After Trump decried the cost and design of the Obama library — and after renderings emerged of his planned library skyscraper-hotel-marina-event space complex — I created a parody concept for a “Trump Presidential Library.” 

The post that appears to have triggered the suspension was a Trump-as-George-Washington cartoon captioned “I cannot tell a lie. Biden did it,” accompanied by commentary on the erosion of accountability and democratic norms.

That is called political speech. It is also called satire. Both have been protected forms of expression in democratic societies for centuries. And both were, by any reasonable definition, plainly authentic.

The contradiction is difficult to ignore. X accused me of “inauthentic behaviors” — yet every post was written under my own name, expressed my own views, and linked to my own commentary or clearly recognizable parody. Meanwhile, the broader ecosystem of political media on that same platform routinely carries content that is racist, threatening, dehumanizing, or incendiary.

Consider the record. The same platform that suspended me for political satire has hosted presidential posts threatening to annihilate an entire civilization, profane ultimatums directed at foreign governments, and language that, from any other account, would almost certainly trigger enforcement. The enforcement gap is not a matter of interpretation. It is a matter of record.

I condemned disinformation about vaccines, wrote about the politicization and demonization of science, criticized cuts to education and research, and voiced concerns about attacks on the news media and the degradation of truth in public life. Trump and many of his allies, by contrast, have normalized language that casts journalists as “enemies of the people,” opponents as “traitors,” and entire communities as threats — language that sits comfortably on the platform, uncontested and unenforced, and that routinely edges to the boundary of criminal incitement without quite crossing it.

Elon Musk acquired X with a promise to make it a more open arena for public expression. That promise deserves scrutiny when a real person, posting under his own name, can be suspended for political criticism and satire — and then offered nothing but silence in response. “Free speech” as a platform value cannot be selectively applied based on whose speech is at issue.

This is not a customer-service complaint. It is a question about who gets to speak in the defining public forum of our time — and who decides.

X is among the most consequential communications platforms in public life. Politicians use it to shape narratives, announce policy, and dominate news cycles. Journalists use it to report, distribute, and break news. Researchers and experts use it to interpret events in real time. X is, of course, a private company, and the First Amendment constrains government action — not the moderation decisions of private platforms. But that legal distinction does not end the inquiry. When a sitting president uses social media as a de facto channel of governance, and when participation in that public square can be revoked through vague accusations and opaque processes, platform governance becomes a matter of legitimate democratic concern.

Many people responded to my suspension by saying I was better off without it — that X has become a cesspool, that suspension is practically a badge of honor. I understood the sentiment. But that response, however satisfying, concedes too much. It accepts that a platform of this consequence can suppress lawful political opinion without evidence, without explanation, and without recourse — and that the appropriate response is simply to walk away.

Platforms have a genuine responsibility to remove spam, fraud, threats, harassment, and coordinated manipulation. No serious person disputes that. But when a platform accuses a user of “inauthentic behaviors,” it should be able to identify the conduct, cite the specific post, explain which rule was violated, and provide a genuine review process. Without that, policy becomes pretext, enforcement becomes theater, and whatever trust remains evaporates.

If a platform this powerful can silence lawful political speech this casually — with no justification, no process, and no accountability — the consequences extend well beyond any single user. For businesses, journalists, researchers, and policymakers who depend on X as a channel of record, the absence of due process is not a minor inconvenience. It is a societal risk. Platforms that want to be treated as essential public infrastructure must be held to the governance standards that come with that role.

This article also appears in O’Dywer’s PR. 

Update, April 20, 2026: Well, it ended the way it started – without warning or explanation. The suspension is over. The point of my article remains the same, of course. 

We're Paying $1 Billion to Fall Behind

Every country makes mistakes. What’s harder to accept is when a country makes them on purpose—or at least knowingly. The United States is currently doing both, making choices that point not sideways, not slower, but backward in ways that could take a generation to undo.

The federal government recently agreed to pay roughly $1 billion to TotalEnergies to abandon offshore wind projects in U.S. waters. Those projects were expected to power more than a million homes. Instead, that capital is being redirected into dirtier, less sustainable oil and gas development. This is not deregulation. It is a deliberate, taxpayer-funded intervention to halt one form of domestic energy production in favor of another.

That alone should give pause. But it's part of a pattern—across energy, science, public health, civil rights, and institutional governance—that suggests the country is pulling away from the very foundations that built its strength. And not by accident.

Science and Research

Energy decisions make headlines. Science policy rarely does. But the consequences of underfunding it outlast any news cycle.

For decades, American leadership has been built on sustained investment in research through institutions like the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation, investments that produced the breakthroughs defining modern life, from cancer therapies to semiconductors. Recent funding constraints and disruptions are already affecting research pipelines. Universities are scaling back. Grants are stalled. Researchers are reconsidering where to build their careers.

This isn't theoretical. It's arithmetic: slow the investment, slow the innovation, lose the ground. China has spent years building out its research capacity. The EU keeps deepening collaborative funding. The U.S. doesn't need to outspend them. But walking away from the table is a different thing entirely.

Public Health

The costs in public health are the most immediate. The United States spent decades creating a system capable of responding to outbreaks, developing vaccines, and protecting population health. It took a long time to build. It’s taking a far shorter amount of time to break.

Recent shifts in vaccine policy and public health messaging are accelerating that erosion. Growing political interference in agencies like HHS, combined with amplified skepticism toward vaccines despite overwhelming scientific consensus, is undermining the institutional confidence that makes public health systems work. Vaccines are one of the most effective tools medicine has ever produced, and the trust behind them took generations to earn.

Eroding confidence in that system doesn't create freedom. It creates a specific kind of vulnerability—the kind that shows up as outbreaks, as misinformation taking hold, as people dying from diseases we know how to prevent. And once that trust is gone, it doesn't come back easily.

Environmental Policy

Not every regulation is worth keeping. Some rules are outdated, some are redundant, and a serious case can be made for trimming them. But that's a different argument from what's actually happening.

Efforts to weaken water protections, emissions standards, and pollutant tracking may reduce compliance costs in the short term. But many of these protections were established after costly failures: industrial contamination, unsafe air, widespread health consequences. Rolling them back doesn't eliminate risk. It shifts it onto communities and future taxpayers. When guardrails are removed, the consequences tend to arrive later and cost more.

Voting Rights and the Press

A country's strength depends on whether people trust the system that governs them. The proposed SAVE Act would require documentary proof of citizenship to register to vote. Noncitizen voting is already exceedingly rare, yet millions of eligible Americans lack ready access to such documentation—rural voters, lower-income individuals, many married women whose legal names differ from their birth certificates. When barriers rise, access falls. Policies that reverse the trajectory toward broader participation reshape who governs and who does not.

The same pressure is bearing down on the press. The First Amendment isn't an abstraction—it's the mechanism by which power gets scrutinized, challenged, and held to account. When the government threatens broadcast licenses, targets specific media organizations through regulatory pressure, and repeatedly labels journalists as enemies of the state, the effect is a press that pulls its punches. A country without independent journalism doesn't become more stable. It becomes less informed, and more easily misled.

The Pattern

Each of these areas can be debated individually. But taken together, they point in the same direction: away from investment in the future, away from scientific expertise, away from broad democratic participation, and away from the independent institutions that hold power accountable. That is not a neutral shift. It is a deliberate one.

And because these systems are connected, the damage doesn’t stay in one place. Weaker research means slower medical breakthroughs and fewer competitive industries. A less trusted public health system means a less healthy, less productive workforce. And when people stop trusting institutions, the effects are harder to trace but impossible to ignore.

It's tempting to view these developments as inevitable, as if they're simply the product of forces too large to name or change. They're not. They are the result of decisions made by elected officials, supported by voters, and enabled by disengagement.

Many Americans supporting these policies are doing so in good faith, responding to legitimate concerns about economic security and eroding trust in government. But good intentions don't guarantee good outcomes. In practice, these policies often work against the very interests they claim to serve—gutting research slows the medical breakthroughs that save lives, weakening public health infrastructure puts families at greater risk, and turning away from future industries shrinks the economy those families depend on.

This isn’t really about left or right. It’s about whether the choices being made actually serve the people they’re supposed to serve.

The United States is not in irreversible decline. It remains one of the most dynamic and capable countries in the world. But direction matters.

Spending $1 billion to shut down offshore wind development is not the defining policy of this era. But it’s a clear signal of what the priorities are—and those priorities reach well beyond energy. Countries don’t usually fall behind all at once. They do it gradually, through decisions that each seem defensible on their own but add up to something much harder to reverse.

That process can be reversed. But it won't reverse itself. It takes attention and engagement—and if left unaddressed, it can last for a generation.

The Problem with “Tough Guys” and Apologies

For some leaders, refusing to apologize is a sign of strength. Apologies are often seen as a weakness or as proof that a leader has lost control of the narrative. The louder the criticism, the more they resist saying “I’m sorry.”

Recent events show how flawed this mindset is. After Donald Trump shared – and later deleted – a video showing a blatantly racist clip of Barack and Michelle Obama, criticism came quickly from across the political spectrum.

But what prolonged the controversy wasn’t the post itself; it was the response. When confronted, Trump stated flatly, “I didn’t make a mistake.”

That statement perfectly illustrates why so many public apologies fail before they even start. What’s notable, however, is that this refusal to accept responsibility is no longer just personal; it has become institutionalized. Trump operates a communications apparatus designed to quickly and aggressively deflect blame or dismiss it as media distortion.

Karoline Leavitt gave a clear example when she scolded the news media, saying, “Please stop the fake outrage and report on something today that actually matters to the American public.” In such an environment, offering an apology isn’t merely discouraged; it is fundamentally incompatible with the messaging strategy. 

A helpful way to think about apologies comes from an unlikely source: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. In communication, especially with issues and crisis management, we constantly question whether a response is too much, too little, or just right. Apologies are no different. Does the situation call for one? And if so, will it land as too weak, overly apologetic, or just enough?

The problem isn’t that we apologize too often. It’s that we apologize poorly – or avoid it altogether.

As the importance of apologies has grown, so has the demand for them. But not because society has become more sensitive or civil. Increasingly, apologies are used as leverage – a way to put someone on the defensive. Perceive a slight? Demand an apology. In today’s world, it’s easy to see why leaders become defensive and why a blanket “never apologize” stance can seem appealing. Mitt Romney embraced that stance right in the title of his book, No Apology: The Case for American Greatness. There’s an argument that we’re entitled to this because of all the good the country has done in the world. But a history of good deeds, whether personal, corporate, or national, doesn’t shield anyone from responsibility when serious mistakes occur. Banking goodwill may buy some benefit of the doubt, but it doesn’t excuse causing harm. 

After years of studying political, corporate, and personal apologies, I’ve realized it’s partly a discipline rather than a reflex – something that can be learned, refined, and measured. That realization led me to create what I call the 6 A’s of Apology: 

• Acknowledging that something has happened
• Authentic expression of regret
• Appropriate tone and language
• Acceptable location, determining who and how many receive the message
• Acting within the right timeframe
• Announcing next steps

No apology can begin without acknowledgment. When a leader says, “I didn’t make a mistake,” the process ends before it starts. No acknowledgment, no acceptance, no empathy, and no repair. What may feel like defiance to the speaker often registers as indifference to the audience.

Bad apologies generate headlines of their own and can cause real harm. Actions that should help heal can instead deepen wounds. Silence, defensiveness, or half-hearted apologies often do more damage than saying nothing at all. A slow, insensitive response can overshadow good intentions and magnify the fallout.

Good apologies, however, can defuse tense situations and reduce media attention. They tend to shorten controversies rather than prolong them. They reaffirm shared values rather than challenge them.

This is where so-called “tough guys” often go wrong. They confuse apology with submission and assume that admitting fault means losing power. In reality, refusing to apologize often signals insecurity – fear that acknowledging error will shatter a carefully constructed image of dominance. When that fear is reinforced by an institutional communication strategy built around denial, it predictably fuels escalation rather than projecting strength.

Leadership isn’t about never being wrong. It’s about how you respond when you are, since responses determine both the extent of the damage and how long it lasts. How you say “I’m sorry” might matter more than the original mistake. 

A sincere apology doesn’t weaken a leader. It demonstrates confidence, emotional intelligence, and moral clarity. The real weakness isn’t in apologizing; it’s in the inability – or unwillingness – to accept responsibility when it’s necessary.

The Last Laugh?

Comedy, Dissent, and the Far Right’s Campaign to Silence Satire

We’re still laughing. For now. 

American politics has long been divided along emotional lines: Republicans evoke fear, while Democrats respond with humor. The right energizes followers with grievance-filled slogans like “Take Our Country Back,” “Stop the Steal.” The most impactful responses from the left often come through late-night monologues, sketches, and stand-up routines.

Ask yourself: how many hard-right comedians with mainstream audiences can you name? Talk radio features conservative stars, and primetime opinion shows can rage for hours. However, the current lineup of popular political comedy mostly includes people like Bee, Colbert, Kimmel, Meyers, Noah, Oliver, and Stewart.

That imbalance matters. Humor is a strength of democracy. It punctures pomposity and invites self-correction. Fear narrows; comedy opens. Today, the far right isn’t trying to out-joke comedy – it’s trying to silence it through economic, political, and legal pressure.

Silencing the jesters

On September 17th, Disney’s ABC suspended Jimmy Kimmel Live after Kimmel made a remark about the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk and then joked about Donald Trump’s reaction to a question about how he was dealing with the loss. (“I think very good,” Trump said. “And by the way, right there, you see all the trucks. They just started construction of the new ballroom for the White House, which is something they’ve been trying to get, as you know, for about 150 years. And it’s going to be a beauty.”).

The action followed public warnings from FCC Commissioner Brendan Carr that affiliates airing “distorted” content could face penalties; Nexstar, which owns many ABC affiliates and is seeking FCC approval for a $6.2 billion acquisition of TEGNA, preemptively removed the show.

Donald Trump publicly celebrated the suspension and called on other networks to cancel more late-night shows, signaling retaliation instead of debate.

The network returned Kimmel to his show on September 23rd after public outrage and a rash of cancellations of Disney-owned streaming services. But Nexstar and Sinclair, owners of local ABC affiliates, kept him off the air. That is, until September 26th, when they caved to the backlash and, more importantly, faced lower ratings without Jimmy.

Weeks earlier, in July, CBS canceled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, officially citing financial reasons related to the Paramount–Skydance deal. Since Colbert had criticized that very merger, the move raised questions – fair or not – about whether corporate and political interests were aligned against a prominent satirist.

These examples reveal a larger pattern: dissent expressed through comedy is being labeled as distortion, punished as indecency, or viewed as a regulatory liability. Some critics argue that these recent cancellations are no different from ABC’s 2018 decision to cancel “Roseanne” after Roseanne Barr tweeted a racist insult about former Obama adviser Valerie Jarrett. However, that comparison is misleading. Barr’s case involved a private employer enforcing conduct standards after an openly racist outburst. The attacks on Colbert and Kimmel today are about political revenge and corporate caution in response to satire targeting those in power. One concerns accountability for hate speech; the other aims to intimidate dissent. Conflating them is a false equivalency that hides the real danger.

Lessons from the past

The recent threats by the FCC to revoke broadcast licenses are new, but individual comedians facing government pressure and legal threats are not. Lenny Bruce, a pioneering comic of the 1950s and 60s, was repeatedly arrested on obscenity charges for routines that challenged religious and political authorities. His prosecutions discouraged performers and sparked national debates about free speech. George Carlin, another legend of political comedy, was arrested in 1972 for performing his 'Seven Dirty Words' routine. The case, FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, reached the Supreme Court, which upheld the FCC’s authority to regulate 'indecent' broadcasts. Both Bruce and Carlin show that even in a democracy, government institutions have tried to punish comedians when their words challenged prevailing norms or threatened those in power.

Historians note that autocrats have always feared humor. In 1930s Nazi Germany, Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels reacted angrily to satire, considering it as a threat to morale and authority. He shut down the Berlin cabaret Die Katakombe, and its host Werner Finck was detained in a camp; later, Finck was banned by the Reichskulturkammer. Performers like Fritz Grünbaum and Paul O’Montis faced persecution or death.

Turkey under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has repeatedly imprisoned satirists, from the 2016 prosecution of German comedian Jan Böhmermann to the 2025 arrest of staff at the satirical magazine LeMan. In North Korea, humor is tightly controlled by the state; in 2016, Kim Jong Un even banned sarcasm, fearing it was used to mock him. Remember the death threats he made after the release of “The Interview”? China fined comedian Li Haoshi’s company $2 million in 2023 for a joke about the military, and censors foreign sitcoms that cross political red lines. In Russia, Vladimir Putin’s government canceled the satirical puppet show Kukly in 2002, called dissenting comedians 'foreign agents,' and has jailed or exiled performers who mocked the war in Ukraine.

They understood what modern cognitive science confirms: emotion influences people more than facts. Comedy, however, has always been a remedy for fear. No wonder authoritarian regimes want to eliminate the jokes. Laughter exposes their fears and threatens their hold on power.

Why this matters

Comedy is not trivial. It’s one of democracy’s pressure valves – a way for ordinary citizens to laugh at the powerful and prevent fear from swallowing the public square.

Lyndon Johnson, of all people – the powerful, driven, bullying, visionary president – understood the importance of humor and free speech. Though the Smothers Brothers (popular back in the day) performed a controversial satire of him and his Vietnam War policy on their TV show, LBJ said:

“It is part of the price of leadership of this great and free nation to be the target of clever satirists. You have given the gift of laughter to our people. May we never grow so somber or self-important that we fail to appreciate the humor in our lives.”

Contrast this with Trump’s vindictiveness – gloating over Kimmel’s removal and publicly urging other networks to cancel shows. The difference isn’t about taste in comedy; it’s about whether satire is recognized as part of the democratic bargain.

If the far right succeeds in silencing satire – through lawsuits, regulatory threats, and corporate caution – we’ll lose more than just late-night shows. We’ll lose one of the oldest, most humane defenses against authoritarian politics.

Democracy cannot be sustained by fear and force. It requires dissent – even when dissent comes as a joke. The far right understands this. That’s why it’s trying to kill the laughter. The question is whether we will let it.

Calling All Optimists

The canary in the coal mine of free speech has died. We are living in dangerous times for truth. 

The American public square is under attack – not just from misinformation and propaganda, but also from systemic forces that seek to silence dissent, control what we hear, and limit the scope of legitimate debate. 

If optimism means believing change is possible, then today, optimism requires courage. This is a call to those who still believe facts matter, who refuse to give in to despair, and who want to face what is happening honestly. Your ideas and perspectives are needed.

The New Reality: Power, Pressure, and Fear

You probably heard that Disney’s ABC abruptly pulled Jimmy Kimmel Live off the air after his comments about the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk. The decision was made quickly after the FCC chair threatened fines and license reviews for broadcasters who aired what he called “distorted” content. Nexstar, which owns 32 ABC affiliates and is seeking regulatory approval for a multibillion-dollar acquisition, proactively stopped airing the show.

Only weeks earlier, CBS canceled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, officially citing financial reasons. Yet many pointed out the timing: Reports indicated that political and corporate pressures influenced the decision because of the impending Paramount-Skydance merger.

These are not minor programming changes. These actions go beyond being a pattern or signal. They are the predicted outcomes from the Project 2025 playbook. 

Some will argue that this is no different from ABC’s 2018 decision to cancel “Roseanne” after Roseanne Barr posted a racist tweet about former Obama adviser Valerie Jarrett. But don’t fall for this false equivalency, this form of whataboutism. In Barr’s case, the network acted in direct response to a personal racist outburst from its star, behavior that violated company policy and alienated advertisers. In the current situations with Colbert and Kimmel, comedians are being removed not for violating standards of decency but for satirizing those in power. One involves private accountability for bigotry; the other involves political pressure and corporate leverage to silence dissent. Do not conflate the two; it only serves to erode our ability to discern real threats to free expression.

It’s not new, of course. From the start of his first campaign, Donald Trump has frequently called the mainstream press “the enemy of the people.” He has threatened to revoke licenses, sue outlets into silence, and openly praised actions that remove critical voices from the airwaves. 

This is not just mere bluster; it reflects an ongoing strategy to undermine independent journalism and weaken the institutions that mediate truth. If the President can decide what content is “distorted,” what is “garbage,” or what qualifies as “radical,” and if regulators and corporations act accordingly, then the line between governance and censorship has already begun to disappear.

The Battlegrounds of Truth

If there is a chance to preserve our Constitution, restore democratic values, bridge the deepening chasm between left and right, and combat the increasing incivility infecting our country, we must at a minimum, have plans and commit resources to fight mis/disinformation and propaganda. 

This is where the community of optimists must come together and find some solutions. No one can solve this on their own. Right now, I have four strategic imperatives and a lot of questions.

Invest in education and media literacy. But how can this be done when government is defunding public education, dismantling resources, and actively attempting the elimination of the Department of Education? How can media literacy flourish when the very structures that support critical thinking are being eroded?

Support independent journalism. But how can this be achieved when newsroom employment has dropped by more than a quarter since 2008, when hundreds of local communities have become “news deserts,” and when media ownership is increasingly concentrated in partisan corporations or wealthy individuals? When “both sides” rhetoric or “everyone’s biased” framing dominates (False Equivalencies: The Danger of Treating All Information Equally), lies are elevated to the same plane as facts.

Debunk falsehoods effectively. But how can we do this when the number of professional journalists and fact-checkers has fallen sharply, and when falsehoods travel faster and further online than carefully reported truths? As cognitive linguist George Lakoff argues, what people believe to be true can outweigh what is demonstrably true. 

Increase transparency on social media. But how can this happen when platforms are controlled by highly partisan owners and global corporations, when algorithms are hidden, and when accountability mechanisms are weak or nonexistent?

The Cost of Silence

We are closer than some realize to a media ecosystem defined not by freedom but by fear, not by evidence but by power. The decline of independent journalism, the weaponization of regulatory agencies, the concentration of media ownership, and the replacement of truth with belief all point in one direction: a society where public discourse no longer functions. 

Today’s optimism does not mean ignoring these dangers. It means refusing to look away, confronting the reality before us, and demanding accountability. The question is not whether the crisis is coming. It is already here. The question is what we, the citizens, do in response? 

Please respond.

The Fools of April

I remember looking forward to April Fools’ Day – the gags, the puns, and the harmless pranks that sparked laughter or, at least, a good groan. This year? It felt like April Fools just disappeared. Hardly anyone I know made the slightest attempt to lighten the day. The world felt too heavy. The jokes, if they existed, weren’t funny anymore.

Years ago, some stories we see now might have given us pause: Wait, that can’t be real… is this an April Fools’ joke? But today, there’s no punchline – just policy. April isn’t over yet, but let’s review a few.

Universities Defunded

The Trump Administration intensified its campaign against higher education institutions, citing antisemitism as the justification for funding cuts and other punitive measures. 

It’s offensive. It’s manipulative. 

Let’s not forget the 2017 “Unite the Right Rally” in Charlottesville, Virginia, where clashes between white nationalists, neo-Nazis, and other far-right groups resulted in the death of a counter-protester and injuries to others. Donald Trump commented, "You had some very bad people in that group, but you also had very fine people on both sides." 

This isn’t policy; it’s political retribution dressed up as civil rights enforcement. Antisemitism must be addressed in the strongest terms. But suppressing academic freedom while harboring white nationalist sympathizers exposes the Administration's contradictory and hypocritical approach to addressing discrimination and protecting civil liberties.

Cutting Science at the Knees

What began as a Silicon Valley mantra – “move fast and break things” – has been embraced by this Administration as its governing philosophy. The problem? Government is not a start-up; it is the infrastructure that binds society together. It is being dismantled in the name of speed, spite, and spectacle.

The U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) terminated nearly 800 research projects with lightning speed, reclaiming more than $2.3 billion allocated to researchers. This could mean potential cancer treatments, rare disease therapies, and mental health innovations – all gone.

Dr. Peter Hotez, from the Baylor College of Medicine, warned, “Anti-science has become a dangerous social force that threatens both our national security and global stature as a nation renowned for its research institutions and universities.” NYU Bioethicist Dr. Arthur Caplan put it more bluntly: “Trump's anti-science, dangerous HHS head and their oddball gang of misinformers are now firmly in charge of federal biomedical policy.”

Those concerns deepened this month when Dr. Peter Marks, the highly respected head of the FDA's vaccine division, was forced to resign. Vaccine expert Dr. Paul Offit at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia put it bluntly: “RFK Jr. is now the wolf guarding the hen house.”

Healthcare isn’t the only scientific discipline on the irrational chopping block. The Trump Administration has proposed significant budget cuts to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), including plans to eliminate its climate research division, the Office of Oceanic and Atmospheric Research, and several other NOAA offices. These cuts could devastate weather and climate research, potentially crippling industries like agriculture that rely on accurate weather and climate data. The reductions may also hinder research on severe weather events that affect virtually everyone, such as storms and tornadoes.

All of this uncertainty, combined with the hostility toward science and higher education, could have a generational impact on U.S. research and competitiveness: more than 75% of respondents to an informal Nature poll of readers who are scientists said that they were considering leaving the country.

We’re witnesses to the dismantling of the innovation engines that have powered American progress for more than a century.

Due Process, Discarded

The Department of Homeland Security proposed new rules allowing expedited deportations without a court hearing for certain noncitizens. According to the Migration Policy Institute, similar fast-track removal programs in the past have raised serious due process concerns, particularly regarding access to legal representation and the risk of wrongful deportations.

The dangers are not theoretical. A federal judge in Maryland issued strong reprimands to the Trump Administration for failing to comply with a Supreme Court order requiring the release of Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia, who had been wrongfully deported to a notorious supermax prison in El Salvador. “To date nothing has been done,” said Judge Paula Xinis. “Nothing.” 

Garcia, who has no criminal record, entered the U.S. illegally; however, in 2019, an immigration judge granted him “withholding of removal” to El Salvador due to his “well-founded fear of future persecution” from a violent gang known as Barrio 18. 

Now Trump is floating the idea of sending “homegrown criminals” – U.S. citizens – to the same prison.

Rolling Out the Propaganda Welcome Mat

Also this month, Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced the closure of the office that tracks disinformation from China, Russia, Iran, and other foreign actors. This office had been monitoring disinformation campaigns by rival powers and terrorist groups while also publishing relevant reports. James P. Rubin, a former State Department official who led the precursor to the office during the Biden administration, stated, “This amounts to a form of unilateral disarmament in the information warfare Russia and China are conducting all over the world.”

The Trump Administration has also dismantled efforts to monitor U.S. elections for foreign interference. The New York Times reported, “Those employees tried to combat false content online and worked on broader safeguards to protect elections from cyberattacks or other attempts to disrupt voting systems.”

We are blinding ourselves as our adversaries continue to become much more aggressive in spreading disinformation, creating division, and inciting violent acts. 

A Trade War on Ourselves

Then came the tariffs.

Trump reimposed a 10 percent baseline tariff on nearly all imported goods this month, marking one of the most sweeping trade policy shifts in modern U.S. history. Select countries, particularly China, were hit with much steeper penalties, with total tariffs on Chinese imports reaching as high as 145 percent. Mexico and the European Union faced additional levies ranging from 20 to 25 percent.

Is this to rebalance trade? Reshore manufacturing? Let’s be clear: there is no endgame. The world is left to guess. Nobel Prize-winning economist Paul Krugman said, “Uncertainty created by ever-changing tariff plans is arguably a bigger problem than the tariffs themselves."

But Trump boasted, “These countries are calling us up, kissing my ass” to negotiate deals. “We need to teach these countries a lesson – they’ve been laughing at us for years,” he said. 

The markets showed no signs of laughter. The Dow plunged by more than 4,000 points in just two days. 

Financial titans are no longer able to stay quiet. Jamie Dimon, CEO of JPMorgan Chase, said in his annual shareholder letter, "Trump's tariffs will likely increase inflation and are causing many to consider a greater probability of a recession.” Larry Fink, CEO of BlackRock, stated: "Most business leaders from our portfolio companies say we are probably in a recession right now." And Ken Fisher, Chairman of Fisher Investments, criticized the tariffs as: "Stupid, wrong, arrogantly extreme."

So... Where’s the Joke?

These aren’t mistakes; they’re not even misguided policies. They are intentional. In many cases, the Administration and millions of supporters and enablers take pride in that.

What’s chilling is not only the content of the decisions; it’s the logic (or lack thereof) behind them: reverse what my predecessor did, punish ideological opponents, and provoke simply for provocation’s sake.

The cruelty isn’t a byproduct. It’s the point.

A Call to Sanity and Humanity

April was once a time for pranks, laughter, joy, curiosity, and creativity. But here’s the thing: it’s still possible to reclaim that spirit. We can resist the normalization of chaos and reject leaders who govern through vendetta. 

We can demand compassion in immigration policy, invest in education, showcase scientific evidence, and demonstrate humility in power.

Let’s revive the best parts of ourselves and our institutions. Let us be a nation where absurdity is confined to comedy, not policy.

Let’s stop the fools of April from writing our future.

Nuance Is Out – It Needs to Come Back

The Rise of Binary Thinking in Public Discourse

In today’s world, nuance is rapidly disappearing. Politics, media, and public debate have become dominated by black-or-white, yes-or-no thinking and communication. Leaders and decision-makers no longer have patience for complexity; instead, they opt for sweeping, sometimes incendiary language that may look decisive but often creates more harm than good.

The consequences of this shift can be seen in political rhetoric, media coverage, corporate decision-making, and public policy. From government leaders passing policies without considering long-term effects to social media reducing issues to simplistic slogans, the ability to grapple with complexity has all but vanished.

This lack of nuance is not just frustrating – it’s dangerous. It leads to policies, leadership decisions, and public conversations that fail to acknowledge the full scope of reality. It’s time to examine why nuance has fallen out of favor and how we can restore it before losing our ability to think and communicate critically altogether.

How Media and Politics Reward Oversimplification

One of the biggest drivers of binary thinking is the modern media landscape. The 24-hour news cycle and social media algorithms can prioritize engagement over accuracy, meaning the most extreme, emotionally charged language gets the most attention.

Consider the recent coverage of the White House’s decision to suspend all federal grants and loan disbursements. While some outlets reported the White House’s justification – that the move was necessary to prevent public funding of “wokeness” and programs it deemed wasteful – others highlighted concerns from critics who labeled it an unconstitutional overreach that would undermine essential programs. The framing of the issue quickly devolved into a polarized debate – either a bold crackdown or a reckless assault on public funding—rather than an analysis of the policy’s mechanics, trade-offs, or potential compromises. Few discussions examined the long-term implications or the specific programs affected, reducing the conversation to partisan conflict instead of policy substance.

Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky's research on cognitive biases helps explain another factor contributing to this mindset. People naturally prefer certainty over ambiguity. Instead, they want to avoid wrestling with complexity and seek quick, straightforward answers. Media outlets and politicians exploit this tendency by simplifying issues into a good versus evil narrative, where one side is entirely right, and the other is completely wrong.

Musk’s NIH Overhaul: A Case Study in Oversimplification

An example of the dangers of eliminating nuance in decision-making is Elon Musk’s attempt to restructure the National Institutes of Health (NIH). Musk, known for his aggressive and combative leadership style, took a “wood chipper” to the indirect research costs paid to grant recipients. 

Instead of carefully studying potential reform measures, he slashed funding, jeopardizing ongoing and future studies and the employment of scientists, medical researchers, and support staff across the country. His goal was to make the NIH more efficient. However, his approach ignored the social contract between the government and universities and the complexity of biomedical research, which often requires long-term investment rather than immediate results.

The result? Chaos. 

Many critical NIH programs were abruptly halted, scientists scrambled for new funding, and even private-sector partners expressed concern about the long-term impact on medical innovation. What Musk framed as a bold, decisive move was an oversimplified gutting of an institution whose work does not fit neatly into a profit-driven model. (See my article, Running Government Like a Business? Think Again.)

This is the kind of false clarity that dominates leadership today. Instead of making thoughtful, informed adjustments, leaders increasingly favor sweeping, disruptive action – a “move fast and break things” approach that disregards complexity.

The Death of Complexity in Public Policy

This problem is not unique to Musk. Across government and business, leaders are rejecting incremental progress in favor of dramatic, attention-grabbing moves.

Consider Donald Trump’s recent tariffs on Mexico, Canada, and China. These tariffs were presented as a decisive strategy to pressure foreign governments on immigration, illegal drugs, and trade issues. However, the reality was far more complex – retaliatory tariffs from Canada and Mexico, disruptions to supply chains, and an absence of clear benchmarks for success. Instead of tackling the root causes of economic and immigration challenges, the tariffs acted as a symbolic, high-impact maneuver with uncertain long-term effects. This type of performative, surface-level decision-making creates the illusion of action while failing to address the underlying issues.

How to Elevate the Conversation

If I weren’t such an optimist, I’d say we’re too far gone – too many people are invested in and profiting from the current state, where crude, simplistic messages persuade individuals to act against their self-interest and undermine democracy. We must find ways to elevate how we communicate and interact to restore civility and evidence-based decision-making. This will require a declaration of the need for change and a commitment from various stakeholders to a range of efforts over an extended period. Here are a few key steps communicators, policymakers, and business leaders can take:

1. Encourage Complexity in Public Discussions. Rather than presenting false binaries, leaders and the communicators who advise them should emphasize educating the public about trade-offs and long-term consequences.
2. Prioritize Incremental Change Over Blunt Action. Policy and decision-makers should recognize that big problems require thoughtful, long-term solutions.
3. Acknowledge That Emotional Appeals Can Oversimplify Issues. Emotions are a powerful tool in communication, but they can be even more effective when combined with rational analysis. Journalists and communicators must counter the clickbait, outrage-driven news model.
4. Teach Critical Thinking and Media Literacy. The public needs better tools to recognize when issues are being flattened into false binaries. This process should begin early by teaching students how to evaluate sources, recognize biases, and engage with complexity.

Nuance is fading because it’s tougher to sell, more challenging to explain, and harder to act upon. Additionally, it requires time. In a world where leaders seek quick results, the media wants engagement, and the public craves certainty, complexity has become an inconvenience. However, the cost of ignoring nuance is massive. If we want better leadership, policies, and public discourse, we must resist the urge for quick, flashy, or frenzied explanations and responses. We must embrace complexity, acknowledge trade-offs, and have the patience to address issues with the depth they deserve.

Running Government Like a Business? Think Again.

Hearing corporate leaders say, “The government should operate like a business," isn’t new, but the slogan has gained new significance with Elon Musk and Donald Trump promoting aggressive reforms. Now, Silicon Valley’s "move fast and break things" mentality has taken hold. While these statements may resonate with those frustrated by bureaucratic inefficiencies, enacting such approaches can lead to significant challenges and serious unintended consequences.

The Pitfalls of "Move Fast and Break Things"

Using the blunt instrument of mass terminations and freezing previously approved funding suggests that rapidly dismantling existing structures and addressing issues as they arise is an effective strategy. We’re being told that embracing a "fail fast" mentality – where rapid iteration and acceptance of failure contribute to innovation – is the solution to fixing a bloated government. However, this approach can lead to chaos and instability, particularly within complex systems like government. Interruptions in government services and commitments can cause widespread and severe hardships, affecting millions of lives and national stability. 

Musk, appointed (not vetted or confirmed) to lead the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), has launched swift and widespread cuts to the federal workforce. (Fearing a legal battle over challenges to Musk’s authority, on Feb. 18, White House official Joshua Fisher stated, “Mr. Musk is not the U.S. DOGE Service Administrator.”) In a recent press conference, Musk described federal employees as an "unelected" branch of government and defended DOGE's secretive operations. These actions have led to the termination of nearly 85,000 government workers – about 3% of America's 2.3 million civil servants – crippling essential services like veterans affairs, nuclear security, and tax administration. Critics argue that these cuts vilify dedicated civil servants and undermine the government’s ability to fund essential services, support public health, and fund vital research.

The aggressive downsizing has elevated national security risks. Musk’s influence now extends to critical government IT infrastructures managed by a wide range of government departments, raising concerns about the integrity and security of federal systems. Despite court orders and numerous warnings about insider threats posed by Musk’s appointees, enforcement remains uncertain, leaving essential government functions vulnerable.

Why the Government Shouldn't Run Like a Business

The idea that the government should function like a business is a common refrain among some business leaders. However, this viewpoint overlooks essential differences between public governance and private enterprise.

In his book Time to Get Tough, Donald Trump asserts that business experience can translate into governmental success, suggesting that corporate strategies can effectively address governmental challenges.

However, governments are designed to serve the public interest. They address issues that are not always profitable but are essential for societal well-being, such as public safety, education, and infrastructure. Applying business principles focused on profit and efficiency can undermine these essential services.

Furthermore, businesses operate under different accountability structures. While a company answers to its shareholders, a government is accountable to its citizens, requiring transparency, equity, and adherence to democratic processes. DOGE's sweeping budget cuts and agency closures have already sparked legal battles, with opponents arguing that such actions bypass congressional oversight and erode democratic checks and balances.

The Founding Fathers warned against rash governmental overhauls. James Madison, in The Federalist Papers, cautioned: "The instability, injustice, and confusion introduced into the public councils have, in truth, been the mortal diseases under which popular governments have everywhere perished." Madison argued that a well-functioning government requires careful deliberation rather than reckless disruption.

When one of his rockets blows up, Musk refers to it as a “rapid unscheduled disassembly.” We’re witnessing the government being blown apart and disassembled right now, right before our eyes, to the dismay of millions of Americans and to the delight of our adversaries.

The Failure of Joy: The 2024 Election and the Power of Fear

Democrats should spend less time blaming each other for their loss and more time on why Republicans won.

In the wake of the 2024 election, political analysts, journalists, voters, and interested observers worldwide are grappling with how Vice President Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party lost despite running a campaign imbued with joy and optimism. As The New York Times reported, “The nationwide repudiation of the party stunned many Democrats who had expressed a ‘nauseous’ confidence about their chances in the race's final weeks. As they sifted through the wreckage of their defeats, they found no easy answers as to why voters so decisively rejected their candidates.”

Not true. The circular firing squad assembled quickly, and the headlines screamed their verdict: “This Is All Biden’s Fault,” “Dems rage against Biden’s ‘arrogance’ after Harris loss,” and “Democratic strategist says her party has lost ‘common sense’ and the ability to speak to ‘normal people’.”

Sure, there are plenty of ways to blame the Democrats for their massive defeat. The party needs to learn a few crucial lessons. But people must remember how Rupert Murdoch/Fox, Elon Musk/X, and others amplified the flood of lies and distortions, which found no counterweight in the mainstream or legacy media. The muddle contributed to tens of millions of people choosing not to vote, abdicating their privilege and responsibility. 

And there’s one more critical factor: Joy alone cannot stand against the power of fear, which Republicans wielded effectively to secure victory.

The Limits of Optimism

Harris and her running mate, Governor Tim Walz, chose “joy” to set their campaign's tone and emphasized hope, unity, and progress. The Vice President highlighted a woman’s right to choose, economic growth under Democratic leadership, and floated new incentives for home ownership and business development. Walz’s persona—the Coach—complemented this strategy, projecting confidence and unwavering belief in a brighter future. 

In a New York Times opinion piece written during the campaign, Charles M. Blow noted, “‘Joy’ Is Working for Harris, but Can It Close the Deal?’” We know the answer. Another NYT piece pointed out that this hopeful approach often fell on deaf ears among undecided and swing voters. One voter said, “I’m not looking for a leader who just tells me everything will be okay. I need to know they understand what I’m worried about.” Another added, “Optimism is nice, but it doesn’t pay the bills or make me feel safer.”

I am a believer, a supporter of joy, and an optimist. However, for months, I have said that the Harris strategy needed to change. The campaign spent significant time talking about unifying the country and the many misdeeds of the 45th President when they should have focused on issues that matter most to middle-class, middle America and efforts to get out the vote. 

In our hyperpolarized world, too few will accept facts, listen to arguments, or ask probing questions. And history shows that two other “happy warriors” failed to win the presidency: Al Smith (1928, losing to Herbert Hoover) and Hubert Humphrey (1968, losing to Richard Nixon). 

The Politics of Fear

History and legend show that fear motivates more effectively than joy or optimism. In the book “Camelot, Inc.,” I discuss how those plotting against King Arthur recognized that emotion—particularly anger—is the most potent unifier. It was understood that to gain traction, people needed an emotional rallying point: “It has to be something broad and popular, which everybody could feel…so that everybody can be angry” (T.H. White, The Once and Future King). Modern-day Republican strategists have mastered this lesson, using the emotional glue of fear to build their base.

Consider how policy debates are framed not as opportunities for growth but as existential threats. During the Obama era’s debates over the Affordable Care Act, opponents shifted the conversation from increasing access to healthcare to an infringement on personal liberty – “taking away” Americans’ choice. Similarly, efforts to regulate firearms meet fierce rhetoric about assaults on constitutional rights, evoking a protective response that overrides fact-based discussions.

The 2024 election highlighted this dynamic. While Democrats emphasized what they could add to the richness of Americans’ lives—greater equality, better access to services, social progress—Republicans positioned their platform as a defense against perceived losses: the erosion of freedoms, security, and identity.

While the abortion issue resonated with many voters, it did not offset the Republican platform of fear. The Republican campaign amplified worries of economic instability, rising crime rates, and the erosion of traditional values, painting a picture of an America under siege. Their messaging resonated powerfully with the public, who sought certainty and protection. Slogans like “Take Our Country Back” and “Never Surrender” reinforced the narrative that the nation needed saving from immediate threats.

The Role of the Media: Sanewashing and Shaping Perception

The news media significantly influenced the 2024 election. While Democrats struggled to energize voters with optimistic messages, mainstream media often sanitized or “sanewashed” Donald Trump and the Republican agenda. The coverage overlooked inflammatory or incoherent statements and emphasized a more favorable narrative. 

This approach significantly affected public perception. While Democrats focused on facts and future-oriented policies, media coverage that downplayed the divisive aspects of GOP rhetoric allowed fear-based messaging to become normalized. This created a political environment where emotional, fear-driven narratives easily overshadowed messages of hope and unity.

On a critical policy issue, a New York Times headline announced that “Public Health Could Be Recast in Second Trump Term.” Recast? Slashing CDC funding, breaking up the NIH, and ending vaccine mandates would demolish public health. Undermining institutions, politicizing science, demonizing scientists, and shattering trust in vaccines will lead to a less informed, less healthy America.

The Need for a New Democratic Strategy

The Harris-Walz campaign fell into a common trap: assuming facts alone would inform and influence perceptions. Facts are crucial, but we see repeatedly that public perception, driven by emotion, often holds more sway. Climate change is real, vaccines don’t cause autism, and fluoride strengthens teeth and helps prevent cavities – widely known facts, yet millions choose to ignore them and sometimes fight against them.

If Democrats want to regain electoral ground, they must face an uncomfortable truth: joy alone is not enough. The GOP’s approach consistently demonstrates that fear, anger, and protectionist themes more effectively energize voters. Democrats should not abandon their values; instead, they should integrate emotional narratives into their strategies. To break the cycle of electoral disappointment, they must combine their vision of hope with the raw power of perceived threats.

Noble ideals must be matched with an emotional strategy that galvanizes as effectively as it inspires. Only then can Democrats hope to break the cycle and harness the energy needed for sustained political momentum.

Presidential Humor: 2024 Edition

Next to power without honor, the most dangerous thing in the world is power without humor. – Eric Sevareid

The only thing I found humorous about a recent NYT opinion piece called Trump Is Losing the Humor War was the title. OK, it’s more ironic than funny because the whole thing implied that Trump was winning the humor war at some point.

The author, Professor Leif Weatherby at NYU, wrote, “Over the past decade, there’s one truth that liberals have been loath to admit: Donald Trump is funny. …when you watch him at a rally, you can see he’s playing for laughs: jabbing at his opponents[…].”

Here’s the problem: playing for laughs does not always equate to being funny. Being funny is to amuse, to be comical. Hurling insults, making sarcastic comments, or mocking others are not humorous. They’re, well, insulting, sarcastic, and mocking; all of it is at the expense of others. Trump might be “playing for laughs,” but it is not through humor. 

Also problematic is the professor’s critique of the other side of the political spectrum. “The Democrats have been many things over the last few decades, but funny has rarely been one of them,” he said.

That right there is funny. In my 2011 book Camelot, Inc., I remarked that Democrats had humor pretty well sewn up. Look at the vast majority of stand-up comics and the long-standing successes of figures like John Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Republicans, on the other hand, are masters of fear and anger. 

I agree with Professor Weatherby’s statement that “There’s something interesting about humor: We don’t get to choose what’s funny.” In a 2016 article, I wrote, “Be careful with humor in serious times. What’s funny to you may not be funny to someone else. It comes down to knowing your audience and having some compassion.” Compassion, like humor, is not one of 45’s strong suits.

Dr. Weatherby spoke about acknowledging the “truth.” But the truth is subjective. My truth about what’s funny, artistic, or cool will be the same for some and different for others. Facts and data, however, are not. Trump advisor Kellyanne Conway blew many minds when she said White House press secretary Sean Spicer “gave alternative facts” about the inauguration crowd size during a 2017 interview on Meet the Press. Host Chuck Todd responded, “Alternative facts are not facts; they’re falsehoods.” 

Will jokes or the manifestations of humor – Harris’ belly laugh or Trump’s happy dance – change any votes? Probably few, if any. Humor is a component of who we are; it’s one pixel in a complex picture. But there’s no doubt it’s essential. Michael J. Fox said, “I think the scariest person in the world is the person with no sense of humor,” and Robert Frost noted, “If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.”

Predicting Change in the Age of Trump - We Need a T.H.E.M.E.

How long is too long to wait for change? If you’re at a red traffic light for more than a few minutes, you’re probably wondering if it’s broken and contemplating an isolated break with a societal norm.  

But what drives us to wait or to move on? I wrote about the change many predicted Donald Trump would make following his victory in the Republican primaries nearly five years ago. Surely, conventional wisdom dictated, he would pivot quickly from fiery agitator to energetic statesman. After waiting the duration of a campaign, a presidential term and then another campaign, I think it’s safe to say the wait is over. Change is not coming and it never will.

In 2016, a New York Times editorial (The Donald Trump Pygmalion Project) focused on Donald Trump’s behavior and how “Mr. [Paul] Manafort’s ambition is to turn this Eliza Doolittle into a candidate more acceptable to decent society, in time for the general election.” 

But too few were paying attention when Mr. Trump said, “I sort of don’t like toning it down.” That rare, honest admission should have been a clue. More questions needed to be asked; intentions should have been probed.

I love checklists and acronyms, and this looks like the perfect place for both. In politics, as in personal and business relationships, we need think about and evaluate others in terms of a THEME:

Transparent. Do we have a clear view into this person and his or her intent? Is what we see what we get?

Honest. Are rules, and the rule of law respected? Are we getting the facts, the truth or some belief, some wishful thinking? 

Empathic. Does this person really care about me, about others and the common good? What is this person’s motivation – is he concerned about helping others, greedy, or a narcissist?

Moral. What does this person value? Is there an understanding how his or her actions might affect others?

Ethical. What is the character of this person? Is this a principled person with a consciousness of his or her actions? 

This is the lens through which we need to view our leaders, colleagues, even friends and family members when it comes to gauging the probability of change. Of course, we need to remember that no one is perfect and giving the benefit of the doubt is generally better than immediately cutting off relationships. 

But when it comes to the current President, we already had years of answers to the questions in my THEME. We should have been able to avoid the mistake of the fabled frog. I’m referring to the story of the Scorpion and the Frog where the scorpion, unable to swim, asked a frog to ferry it across a river. The frog responded that it was afraid of being stung by the scorpion. The scorpion answered in logical terms: If I sting you, he said, then we’d both drown. Thinking the scorpion wouldn’t risk its own life, the frog allowed the creature on its back. Well, you guessed it. In mid-crossing, the predatory arachnid stung the frog. As they began sinking toward their deaths, the frog asked, “Why?” The scorpion replied, "I couldn't help it. It's who I am." The echo of 2016 Donald Trump is loud and clear.

The frog did ask, though. He questioned. Sadly, he believed the lie. He hoped and trusted when he should have been skeptical and suspicious.

Too few challenged Donald Trump and still don’t, even after all the facts were in plain view: the self-dealing, the hush money, the loyalty tests, the muzzling of scientists, and the targeting of the news media as “enemies of state.” The passivity of some and the enabling by others empowered an unabashed, unaccountable, downright lawless Administration. After hundreds of years of steady though non-linear progress, our country has actually devolved. Americans are worse off now than in decades past. Our people are sicker, more polarized, less trusted. The planet is unhealthier, more fragile, less stable.

It’s not too late to reverse course. The whole country won’t respond right away and some people never will. But what differentiates us as human beings is that we’re able to learn, adapt, and progress. Let’s do that.

Between posts, I invite you to follow me @pauoestreicher.