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.]
