It will be a “tear out your hair” moment in the months ahead, which is saying something given the constant insanity that will have me screaming into a pillow and ranting about how carelessly so many Americans discarded democracy. But you can bet that within weeks of Joe Biden leaving office on January 20, Donald Trump will declare the US economy the greatest in the world.
And his voters will suddenly agree with him.
After an election in which they swore the disastrous state of US economy was a principal factor in picking Trump (it definitely wasn’t misogyny or racism or vengeance or ignorance—how dare you?!), they will look at the economy Trump inherits from Biden and celebrate Trump resurrecting it.
“Between November 2016 (just before Trump’s victory in the presidential election) and March 2017, the share of Republicans with a positive view of the economy approximately doubled, from 18% to 37%. And by November 2018, they had doubled again, to 75%,” Pew reported in 2020, noting views of the economy remained “sharply divided by partisanship.” So, to summarize, after the 2016 election, twice as many Republicans suddenly had a positive view of Barack Obama’s economy.
Trump regularly described the American economy during this most recent campaign as “the worst economy ever.” He railed about the imaginary ineptitude of Biden (and Kamala Harris), asserting the US was amazing during his presidency, conveniently ignoring the dumpster fire he handed to Biden as the country plunged into recession at the cost of more than 10 million jobs. The economy Trump now inherits was resuscitated by Biden—that raving left-wing rag The Economist less than a month ago said it was the envy of the world; bigger and better than ever.
I know we’re all largely numb to Trump’s lying and exaggeration. Even his supporters readily admit he’s a high-pressure shit hose, but they don’t care. That’s because—for Trump as well as those who vote for him—lying to win the presidency isn’t just OK, it’s encouraged. Telling the truth wasn’t going to get Trump back in the White House. What was? Incessant, fact-free fear-mongering.1
It worked. And it wasn’t a case of Trump squeaking to a narrow win. He won the popular vote and a clear mandate as enough Americans decided, to paraphrase my former colleague Peter Hartcher, to abandon the country’s 250-year experiment with democracy. The irony, he notes, is voters don’t even expect Trump to fix anything.
“In her landmark work, The Politics of Resentment, political scientist Katherine Cramer described how she took regular part in a wide range of community groups in her home state of Wisconsin, one of the swing states in deciding elections and part of the great swath of left-behind, fly-over America,” Hartcher wrote. “When Kramer asks groups of Trump supporters how they expect he will improve their lives, they are surprised at the question, she reports. They don’t expect Trump to be the vehicle for their improvement but for their disenchantment and anger.”2
Life rarely feels fair. How can it when someone as odious as Trump is yet again not only going to escape accountability for his actions but be rewarded for them? It’s certainly the case that gaining power is the essential precursor to doing anything. I’ve argued that myself. The question is how far you’re willing to go to win. Will you lie? Cheat? Steal? If winning is everything, does the end justify the means?
I don’t think it does. Mr. Bone Spurs would probably puff his obese chest and claim that makes a man weak or something—certainly, the roided-up bros that listen to Joe Rogan, who long for a return to an age when men were MEN while channeling their faux machismo into bullying their wives to vote for Trump, would reject anyone who suggests life is anything other something you have to “win.” And it’s true I’ve wondered if my affability—manifesting as a lack of a killer instinct—contributed to not making it as a professional tennis player.
But that’s OK. The glib take is that doing the right thing in the right way means I can sleep well at night—and that’s true—but I suspect Trump and plenty of other people who do the wrong thing in the wrong way sleep like babies. It’s more about knowing you’re doing the right thing for your own sake, which becomes even more important when you’re setting an example for others, such as a couple of young sons.
I have a keyring as a constant reminder of what’s become a personal motto: Dignità, dovere e divertimento. The translation is “dignity, duty, and fun” and they are, for me, inseparable. We all have duties to fulfill to ourselves, our families, and those we love. Those should be undertaken with dignity in the way we act, the way we treat others (especially the less fortunate), and the example we set. And, hey, you’ve got to have fun. When you stop to think about it, this flicker of life we’re all enjoying is utterly absurd. You have to enjoy the ride, in all of its insanity.
I guess it all boils down to what’s really important. Trump and his supporters will gloat in the days and weeks ahead about sticking it to the elites and revel in the pain that results from mass deportations and whatever other awful policies they enact. But if you’re wondering if that’s worth the price, have you ever seen a man as utterly joyless as Donald Trump?
A life of prioritizing ends regardless of the means has left him without “many, or any, close friends.” His wife can’t stand to be near him and his children seem neutered, grifters from a dysfunctional home with a father incapable of affection. Unlike, say, Biden, it’s hard to imagine Trump at the end being surrounded by loving children and grandchildren by his bedside. No one will weep, although lawyers may be on speed dial. He’ll get a pomp-and-circumstance funeral because of who he was, attended by obligated colleagues who loathed him and a fair chunk of people who just want to make sure he’s actually dead.
He may be none the wiser, but it’s not worth it. Just a few days ago, my mum, Elevator Girl, and I were chatting about my grandfather, and what a wonderful, loving, wise, empathetic man he was. He lives on through conversations like that, and when I catch glimpses of him in myself and my children. Will anyone will talk fondly about Donald Trump? Didn’t think so. Means matter.
A note about whatever this is …
After writing a few thousand articles for newspapers and magazines, I spent a long time trying a bunch of other stuff. I guess I figured what came (relatively) easily must by definition be less valuable, so I wandered in the corporate wilderness, becoming increasingly frustrated and doing work that felt increasingly lousy.
Sometimes with age comes wisdom, and I’ve realized finding something (relatively) easy ain’t a bad thing. So, this is a space where I’m resurrecting writing for myself, on topics weird and wild and wonderful, all from the perspective of an Australian living in the United States.
Posts will appear when the mood takes me, but I do try to be consistently inconsistent—sometimes it’ll be a couple of days between drinks; sometimes a week. But if you subscribe, you’ll get a email letting you know I’m ranting. Again.
This isn’t to suggest many Americans aren’t in genuine financial distress—that’s why the economic argument resonated so deeply. Of course, the Democrats were the ones with actual tangible plans to help, both in the immediate and longer term.
Many people in rural America feel left behind in “fly over” country. But the reality is companies seek efficiencies and consolidate in areas where there’s a critical mass of workers. People also gravitate to where the jobs are. And the cycle continues. There are a lot of dying towns across the United States; places once sustained by single industries or companies that have long gone. The harsh reality is they’re not coming back, which leaves those living in those towns with a choice: stay put and rail against the injustice of it all (it’s not injustice, just life), or do something positive?