The Question: “Why do some British people not like Donald Trump?”
I normally don’t share political content; there are many other profiles and places for that. I‘ve also learnt not to engage in highly divisive political debates, however based on reality my input might be.
Put simply, there’s little to gain in preaching to the choir.
But then there’s Donald Trump. And like much of humanity, I’ve been aghast at his recent abhorrent and often child-like behaviour. It’s hard to watch from a distance and equally hard to remain silent. The antithesis of what a leader should be.
Just look at those ratings! Yes, they’re comparable to the COVID-19 statistics he so casually downplays.
At a time where clear, transparent leadership is desperately needed and most decent people show compassion and humility, his self-centred presidency has degenerated yet further. Every decision is always about him and his enablers, not the people they pretend to represent.
Crucial announcements on public health and COVID-19 mitigation are instead delivered as politically-motivated statements in a confusing string of oscillating sound bites, contradiction or absolute nonsense — no matter how irresponsible or dangerous.
Where a new normal is for any reference of suffering or death, no matter how personal and painful, to be met with deflection and another ramble about self-perceived greatness. And any critique, no matter how relevant and important, is rebuffed by insults, a refusal to answer, even a refusal to attend press conferences. Then, yet another tweet-storm.
Welcome to playground politics, but without detentions or naughty steps. We thought it couldn’t get any worse, but it just did. And then again and again and again.
But don’t worry, let’s all inject Dettol and insert UV-emitting suppositories. Or pop hydroxycloroquine pills like we’re blind drunk and they’re peanuts. Forget those 5G-nanobot-controlled experts, if Trump says it, it must be true. After all, he’s normally right.
Then suddenly it’s not true and he wasn’t right. And all manner of spin is employed as the Trump team work furiously to deflect the latest blunder; remoulding lies upon lies like Play Dough.
Oh that’s what he meant this time. Silly us!
Then there’s the stay-at-home protestors, where another new normal is to see medical professionals try to block their procession; or even a large group of military-attire-clad, semi-automatic-wielding bullies descend on a state capitol in an apparently “acceptable and peaceful protest”.
Because Trump isn’t just going to this conspiracy story lovefest, he’s driving the bus.
Which brings me to this: the most accurate description of Donald Trump I’ve read.
The Question and the Answer
The story begins in February last year, when someone on Quora asked ‘Why do some British people not like Donald Trump?’. Nate White, a copywriter from the UK, wrote this response:
A few things spring to mind.
Trump lacks certain qualities which the British traditionally esteem.
For instance, he has no class, no charm, no coolness, no credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honour and no grace — all qualities, funnily enough, with which his predecessor Mr. Obama was generously blessed.
So for us, the stark contrast does rather throw Trump’s limitations into embarrassingly sharp relief.
Plus, we like a laugh. And while Trump may be laughable, he has never once said anything wry, witty or even faintly amusing — not once, ever.
I don’t say that rhetorically, I mean it quite literally: not once, not ever. And that fact is particularly disturbing to the British sensibility — for us, to lack humour is almost inhuman.
But with Trump, it’s a fact. He doesn’t even seem to understand what a joke is — his idea of a joke is a crass comment, an illiterate insult, a casual act of cruelty.
Trump is a troll. And like all trolls, he is never funny and he never laughs; he only crows or jeers.
And scarily, he doesn’t just talk in crude, witless insults — he actually thinks in them. His mind is a simple bot-like algorithm of petty prejudices and knee-jerk nastiness.
There is never any under-layer of irony, complexity, nuance or depth. It’s all surface.
Some Americans might see this as refreshingly upfront. Well, we don’t. We see it as having no inner world, no soul.
And in Britain we traditionally side with David, not Goliath. All our heroes are plucky underdogs: Robin Hood, Dick Whittington, Oliver Twist.
Trump is neither plucky, nor an underdog. He is the exact opposite of that.
He’s not even a spoiled rich-boy, or a greedy fat-cat.
He’s more a fat white slug. A Jabba the Hutt of privilege.
And worse, he is that most unforgivable of all things to the British: a bully. That is, except when he is among bullies; then he suddenly transforms into a snivelling sidekick instead.
There are unspoken rules to this stuff — the Queensberry rules of basic decency — and he breaks them all. He punches downwards — which a gentleman should, would, could never do — and every blow he aims is below the belt. He particularly likes to kick the vulnerable or voiceless — and he kicks them when they are down.
So the fact that a significant minority — perhaps a third — of Americans look at what he does, listen to what he says, and then think ‘Yeah, he seems like my kind of guy’ is a matter of some confusion and no little distress to British people, given that:
• Americans are supposed to be nicer than us, and mostly are.
• You don’t need a particularly keen eye for detail to spot a few flaws in the man.
This last point is what especially confuses and dismays British people, and many other people too; his faults seem pretty bloody hard to miss.
After all, it’s impossible to read a single tweet, or hear him speak a sentence or two, without staring deep into the abyss.
He turns being artless into an art form; he is a Picasso of pettiness; a Shakespeare of shit. His faults are fractal: even his flaws have flaws, and so on ad infinitum.
God knows there have always been stupid people in the world, and plenty of nasty people too. But rarely has stupidity been so nasty, or nastiness so stupid.
He makes Nixon look trustworthy and George W look smart. In fact, if Frankenstein decided to make a monster assembled entirely from human flaws — he would make a Trump.
And a remorseful Doctor Frankenstein would clutch out big clumpfuls of hair and scream in anguish:
‘My God… what… have… I… created?
If being a twat was a TV show, Trump would be the boxed set.
[For Nate White’s other writings, see here.]
For some reason, the thread has since been deleted from Quora (perhaps overwhelmed with responses?). But a few people were inspired to preserve it on blogs and in other forms — like this, on social media.
Under one such post, someone suggests Nate White’s response is a typical disconnected, elitist or bourgeois response to a man who speaks for sections of society the upper middle-class disdain. That Trump bypasses the traditional media, which they control, and speaks directly to these people. And that Nate White’s response only serves to alienate them further.
But please share it on. For all those of any social class, race, ethnicity, nationality, creed, sex or sexuality who loath him, his politics and his disinformation.
Trumpism: Many More Questions than Answers
While Nate’s brilliant response describes Trump to a tee, the ‘some people‘ part of ‘Why do some British people not like Trump?‘ doesn’t sit well with the ‘not like Trump‘ part. Kind of like the dissonance between two crunching keys on a keyboard.
Multiple past surveys in fact put the proportion of Brits who have any confidence in Trump at under one third — a figure that may well have fallen since. Half even think he’s outright dangerous. Male, female, right-wing, left-wing, pro- or anti-Brexit, many people in Britain generally dislike Trump.
It’s a sentiment widely reflected around the world, as described by research such as this. So, the question Why does so much of humanity dislike Trump? seems somewhat more appropriate. And besides Nate’s character description, there are numerous reasons.
For example, should we really be having regular debates about what a president actually said? Is clear, transparent communication not one of the cornerstones of leadership and democracy?
Of course. But while no amount of spin can change what Trump and his team imply, a bucket-load of ignorance, whether wilful or not, will twist it into whatever some people want to believe — or are able to believe.
Anyone who blows the truth whistle or doesn’t toe exactly the same partisan line is ignored, bullied or fired. Democracy and free speech then become heavily influenced by disinformation, deflection, threats and a blinkered, singular narrative, thus rendering them almost meaningless.
But why does this so readily happen?
For starters, there’s the Dunning-Kruger effect, which I’ve mentioned numerous times in recent weeks. It’s a form of cognitive bias that partially explain how conspiracy stories might arise. A good explanation of this and other cognitive biases is given by Dan Pupius here. But in short: If someone lacks the competence to identify their own incompetence, it can give them false sense of capability, wisdom or intellectual superiority. Or as William Shakespeare wrote:
“The fool thinks himself to be wise, while a wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
Various studies have also found a negative correlation between religiosity and intelligence, with those more susceptible to strong religious views tending to have lower levels of intelligence. Because intelligent people are more likely to resist religious dogma than conform, to adopt an analytic thinking style that undermine religious beliefs, and have less need for the comfort, security and self-enhancement others may gain from religious beliefs and practices.
This doesn’t mean all religious people are inherently stupid. There are many people who have less strong or progressive religious beliefs, freely acknowledging that the Bible, for example, and any literal interpretation of it are beyond outdated and meaningless. Some are even good scientists. They just have faith in some greater, divine power and a true origin behind certain religious scriptures. Something that neither science nor the mental and physical capacity of humans may ever be able to prove or disprove.
But there is a correlation. And not surprisingly, it then follows that God believers are more susceptible to conspiracy theories. Conspiracists believe deeply in unseen causal forces, drawing comfort and a sense of agency from their beliefs. Just as someone might from faith in a god.
To a certain degree, we’re all susceptible to various cognitive biases, no matter our beliefs, faith or partisan affiliation. In-group bias leads us to more likely trust people like us — within our group, team, profession, and so on. Similarly, confirmation bias is the tendency to look for or see only evidence that confirms what we already believe.
Vulnerability to such bias means we’re more likely to dismiss the studies or views of an expert because they don’t belong to our group or contradict a tribal belief; or equally, to accept those studies or beliefs without proper evaluation because they do.
Science can be wrong and it’s well documented many medical studies have significant flaws. That’s why meta reviews of multiple randomised-controlled trials are the gold standard. Media are also responsible for distortion or sensationalism when it comes to reporting on science. A brilliant, in-depth account of this is given in the book Bad Science by Ben Goldacre, and this article discusses the reasons why so many people doubt science.
But much of our modern world has been built on the incremental advancement of scientific knowledge. So, it’s implausible — at least, to most people — to believe that a large proportion of the global scientific community would unite with political leaders of every ilk and from all corners of the world to manufacture some sort of hoax. And apparently do it so badly that even a child would be able to identify the data that “supports” these wild claims.
Many things are simply not open for debate — they’re just facts. Biology is rooted in the principles of evolution. Vaccines save many lives. Climate change is really happening. And now, COVID-19 is having a devastating impact around the world.
For some people, ignorance or bias — or lack of education or intelligence — may be less significant in recognising scientific facts and forming fundamental belief systems. Research has shown people who tend towards schizotypal, Machiavellianistic and primary psychopathic personalities are also more likely to believe in conspiracy theories.
Such people may even be remarkably intelligent, but the intrinsic workings of their brains means they follow unusual patterns of thinking and behaviour, may be strategic and manipulative, and display social and emotional deficits. Their innate or acquired tendency for magical thinking means they see patterns in information that simply aren’t there.
They want others to see these ‘facts’ too, be they aliens living among us or the indisputable flatness of the Earth. And, unfortunately, their intelligence and ability to convincingly communicate their ideas makes them seem more credible, enabling them to reach and manipulate susceptible individuals, propagate their theories and become leaders of conspiratorial communities and cults.
Finally, and perhaps most significantly, cognitive bias when coupled with online social connections, algorithms and automation form very large echo chambers — or filter bubbles.
Since we only see information we want to see and find believable, and everyone in our social circles — in person or online — seemingly holds the same views, it can become almost unfathomable that any credible opposing view can exist.
This not only validates and reinforces long-held beliefs, it also allows for the rapid dissemination of disinformation. Especially when sponsored by dark elements through carefully manipulated multi-million propaganda campaigns.
Think Steve Bannon, Fox News, ONAN and Newsmax, the tobacco and fossil fuel industries, Scientology and certain other religious groups, the NRA. Think of QAnon or the numerous Trump supporters who already belonged to cult-like groups before his candidacy even became a thing.
Side Note: it just occurred to me that Trump 2020 can be written as 1+1 0 1+1 0 or simply 110110… 110110… 110110…
With the skewed understanding of reality that results from believing disinformation and misinformation, like perceiving real-world events through a cracked and fogged lens, the gap between fundamentally opposing ideologies — perhaps one more egalitarian and communitarian and the other more individualistic and hierarchical — becomes a chasm.
All this forms the perfect storm and enables Trump and his sponsors to pander only to his most partisan supporters with whatever they want to hear — or he wants them to hear, even if it’s complete fabrication. Everyone else is simply the enemy and everything else is labelled as “fake news”. It’s always “us and them”. Trying to have a meaningful debate with these people just draws on extreme cognitive bias and leads to further alienation.
And so a cult of personality is born. The Dear Leader posing as some divine, all-powerful saviour, always speaking the truth, always working to defeat the manufactured enemy.
It’s information warfare, an arms race between fact-based journalism and demagoguery, between critical thinking and click-bait, between reality and fiction. At the mere touch of a seemingly harmless “Tweet”, “Post” or “Share” button, with or without malicious intent, the fallout can reach every corner of the globe in seconds like no weapon has ever done before.
Pseudo-political leaders and conspiracists are living in their golden age — a disinformation bonanza.
So, what about those armed stay-at-home protestors? Why? (Just why?)
Because it makes them feel more powerful. They have nothing of substance to add to any debate — nor the ability to do so, so they have to resort to threatening behaviour.
What they will never be able to realise (lack of intelligence, Dunning-Kruger or personality quirks and deficits)— as they’re too long and too far influenced by their klan (in-group bias) and political dogma (confirmation bias) — is: they are the problem, not the solution.
COVID-19 mitigation versus welfare is a major issue around the world, particularly in lower-income communities and countries. I’ve posted about the situation in Thailand here, for example. But most ordinary people can also recognise that as soon as you don military attire and pick up an assault weapon to push your ‘peaceful’ argument, you’ve lost the debate.
Social distancing is not about us as individuals, our freedom or some antiquated constitution written by musket-carrying forefathers. It’s about the impact our behaviour might have on the health of others.
It’s about recognising that with freedom comes certain responsibilities. And as soon as someone is willing to flout those responsibilities, steps must be taken to protect other people.
But Trump and his team continue to send mixed messages to incite these protestors, selectively criticise Democratic governors, fuel conspiracy stories, deflect blame and attempt to win cheap political points.
Or to put it another way, even during a global health crisis, Trump and his team will continue to single-mindedly target the cognitive and partisan bias of his supporters with what’s-in-it-for-me propaganda and lies.
