Michael-In-Norfolk - Coming Out in Mid-Life
Thoughts on Life, Love, Politics, Hypocrisy and Coming Out in Mid-Life
Tuesday, September 22, 2026
The Press Is Not the Root of Trump’s Problems
[The Felon]
President Trumpis going through a rough patch—in foreign relations, in the economy, in the courts, and in election outlook—and he believes that he has found the culprits: CNN, MS NOW, and Politico. On Friday, Trump said he was banning the three outlets from the White House “as a result of their constant ‘reporting’ FAKE NEWS” and warned that more bans could come. When he feels beleaguered, he tends to lash out at familiar enemies, especially reporters. The idea that negative coverage is to blame for his predicament is perversely flattering. But Trump’s true scourge is reality, not how the news is covering it.Although the decision is part of a gradually intensifying attack on free speech, as I noted last month, it has drawn particular pushback. This morning, five major TV networks (including Fox News) agreed to suspend pool coverage of the president and White House events after CNN was blocked from its previously assigned spot in a pool rotation today. The three banned outlets also sued over their exclusion. How such a suit will fare is unclear; Trump banned the Associated Press from the White House press pool last year after it refused to adopt his renaming of the Gulf of Mexico, and a lawsuit challenging the ban is still pending.
After Trump committed a Kinsley gaffe on Friday by calling his move “the ban on the free press,” he tried to clean up his spin this morning. “The White House is not instituting an assault on the Free Press, something which I cherish. It is instituting an assault on the FAKE NEWS,” he wrote, claiming that it “is a threat to our National Security, and must be stopped, NOW!”
This is nonsense. Trump has every right to hate the way he’s covered, but if the government has the power to decide what is fake and what is true, then the press is not free.
Trump’s post demonstrates his talismanic belief in the power of news coverage. The president himself has been obsessed with attention—how to get it and how to shape it—for his entire life, and he is a relic from an era when the media were so dominant, and had such control over the means of reaching an audience, that they seemed to shape reality.
He is not unpopular because of Politico, an outlet that focuses largely on Washington machinations, or because of MS NOW or CNN, two cable channels that—as he is fond of pointing out—have relatively small audiences for television. The media cannot be “failing” and all-powerful at the same time. Trump is unpopular because (to name a few big reasons) he is losing a war of choice to Iran, making inflation worse without seeming to care how voters feel, overreaching with draconian immigration enforcement, and focusing on vanity projects that don’t matter to voters.
Although the press has made many mistakes in how it has reported on the president, including giving him hours of uninterrupted TV air time in 2016, downplaying bigoted remarks, and “sanewashing” some statements, Trump has also received more intensive investigation and negative coverage than any president in American history.
Some of that coverage has surely been hackish partisanship—which is protected by the First Amendment too—but much of it has been earned. Newspapers, magazines, wire services, and TV networks have turned out a series of scoops about the chaos inside the administration, Trump’s policy errors, and the pervasive corruption around him. . . . . Trump would rather blame news outlets he does not like than confront the reality that some of those same voters are rejecting him because of his choices.
The president faces an additional risk in trying to ban these three outlets. He detests adversarial coverage, but he desperately desires attention. This afternoon, Trump spoke with reporters outside the White House. Usually, his comments are captured by the boom mics from the pool TV team, but without their presence today, he was inaudible. Censorship can silence anyone, it turns out—even the censor.
Monday, September 21, 2026
Sunday, September 20, 2026
The Felon and the End of American Exceptionalism
Last spring, Pew Research Center released its annual survey comparing how Americans and others around the world view the United States’ global role. It wasn’t pretty. They reported, “In most countries, majorities say the United States does not promote peace and stability around the world and does not take other countries’ interests into account on matters of international policy.” Views within America’s traditional allies, the countries whose leaders Trump claims “stand up” to honor him, are particularly negative. The Pew poll registered huge declines in the belief that the U.S. is a reliable partner since Trump took office for the second time.
Results were even more devastating when it came to global views of Donald Trump in particular. In the countries surveyed, 76% of respondents said they had no confidence in his leadership of world affairs. Majorities above 70% disapprove of his policies on immigration, Venezuela, Ukraine, Iran, Gaza, Greenland and tariffs. Maybe Trump believes that equals respect.
Driving this perception are the Felon's assault on democracy on the home front while decades long allies are maligned and undermined and brutal dictators - think Vladimir Putin in particular - are coddled and given deference. The days of America leading and inspiring others by example are over - at least until America is rid of the Felon. A long piece at The Atlantic by a professor of international affairs looks at the erosion of any basis for the claim of American exceptionalism. Here are highlights:
America’s days as the exceptional nation seem to be over. At home, President Donald Trump is weakening the foundations of representative government. In the rest of the world, he has set aside democracy promotion and seems more inclined to work with autocracies like China and Russia than with America’s traditional democratic allies.
While Mr. Trump’s assault on American democracy is both without precedent and dangerous, he is right to hold off on the promotion of democracy abroad and to reach across ideological dividing lines. Improving relations with China, as Mr. Trump will aim to do at his summit with its leader, Xi Jinping, on Thursday, is a must in an interdependent world.
Yet Mr. Trump’s dismissal of democracy promotion is flawed and out of step with U.S. history in one critical respect: By compromising America’s own democracy, and backing illiberal populists in other democracies, he is extinguishing the nation’s founding mission to change the world by example. The version of exceptionalism that long guided the nation mandated pragmatism abroad so that Americans could focus on advancing their democratic experiment at home. The settlers of the New World were to build a “city upon a hill,” as the Puritan leader John Winthrop put it in 1630, ultimately changing the world, but only by serving as a democratic model that others would follow. This is the version of U.S. statecraft that urgently needs to be resuscitated.
We are in a worldwide battle for hearts and minds. The future of republican government in the United States, and globally, hangs in the balance. As Mr. Trump oversteps executive authority, weaponizes the Justice Department and tries to cow the media, private sector and universities, the citizens of China, Iran, Russia and other autocracies are watching America’s democratic beacon flicker. . . . .The United States is squandering its ability to bend the arc of history toward more freedom.
Americans embraced a democratic messianism from the get-go. As Thomas Paine put it in 1776, “We have it in our power to begin the world over again.” But for the next century-plus, the United States sought to foster the spread of republican government by serving as an exemplar rather than by intervening abroad.
This patient approach to spreading democracy was the product of three main considerations. First, Americans were acutely aware of the fragility of their own experiment in self-government. President George Washington explicitly warned in his 1796 Farewell Address that ambition abroad, by centralizing power and requiring an oversize military, risked compromising freedom at home. Adams was also concerned that foreign wars, even if fought for the republican cause, risked changing “the fundamental maxims of her policy … from liberty to force,” tempting the nation to become “the dictatress of the world.”
Second, the nation’s leaders believed that republican government had to emerge organically and could not be imposed from outside. As Americans in the 1820s decided not to intervene in Latin America to support countries breaking away from European empires, Adams asserted that he saw “no prospect that they would establish free or liberal institutions of government” — a view that would prevail for decades.
Third, America’s leaders appreciated the need to navigate the world as it was, not as they might like it to be. As President James Monroe explained in 1823, U.S. policy toward Europe’s monarchies was “not to interfere in the internal concerns of any of its powers; to consider the government de facto as the legitimate government for us; to cultivate friendly relations with it.”
By the late nineteenth century, this pragmatic and transactional brand of statecraft contributed to impressive results at home; Americans not only kept their republic, they turned it into a world power. The results abroad were more modest; only a handful of countries were beating a path toward liberal democracy by the turn of the century. But as the founders had hoped, the success of the American experiment set an example that others were starting to follow.
Beginning in 1898, America’s growing power and ambition lured it into the trap that Adams had warned against: Its idealist aspirations began to outstrip its strategic interests.
President William McKinley launched a war to expel Spain from Cuba and went on to annex Spanish possessions in the Caribbean and Pacific, asserting that he was acting “in the cause of humanity.” Less than two decades later, President Woodrow Wilson ordered a succession of military interventions in the Caribbean and Latin America, reportedly vowing that he would teach “the South American republics to elect good men.” He also guided the nation into World War I, declaring that “the world must be made safe for democracy.”
Americans quickly soured on these more costly efforts to export their ideals. The annexation of Spanish territories turned the nation into a colonial empire; the United States became an occupier, not a liberator. And despite victory in World War I, many Americans regretted entanglement in Old World rivalries, and the Senate rejected U.S. participation in the League of Nations, Wilson’s brainchild to keep the postwar peace. So began America’s interwar retreat and the abandonment of its idealist aspirations in favor of a stubborn isolationism.
During World War II and the Cold War, the United States finally arrived at a stable equilibrium between its strategic interests and its lofty ideals. To do battle with the Axis powers, Washington set aside its ideological misgivings to ally with the Soviet Union, but after vanquishing Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan, it went on to democratize both countries.
Amid the Cold War, Washington formed sturdy alliances with fellow democracies while also working with autocracies as needed to contain communism, at times compromising its ideals. Yet the West ultimately prevailed not by defeating the Soviet Union on the battlefield, but by demonstrating the superiority of free societies and open markets, patiently waiting for the Soviet bloc to collapse from within.
As had happened roughly a century earlier, America’s idealist ambitions again began to outstrip its strategic interests after the Cold War ended. . . . At the same time, the triumph of capitalism stoked excessive confidence in the benefits of the unfettered marketplace.
These idealist illusions produced a succession of major setbacks for the United States. After 9/11, regime-change missions in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya cost trillions of dollars and produced little good. The United States integrated Russia and China into global markets, expecting the expansion of their middle classes to liberalize their politics and tame their foreign policies. Nothing of the sort happened. Both countries have become more autocratic and more hostile to the United States.
In the meantime, a combination of automation and free trade has undermined the industrial-era social contract, hollowing out middle classes and political centrism across Western democracies. Mr. Trump and the world’s many other populists are a symptom more than a cause of the resulting anti-establishment anger.
We have come full circle. As during the founding era, American democracy is under threat from within. Meanwhile, republican ideals are in retreat; the world is becoming decidedly less free. And since managing an interdependent globe necessitates broad international cooperation, the United States again needs to navigate the world as it is, not as it would like it to be. . . . Mr. Trump’s Iran debacle will hopefully reinforce the due caution that Washington should exercise when it comes to trying to change regimes by force.
[I]n threatening democracy at home and supporting illiberal populists abroad, Mr. Trump is corrupting, not reviving, the original version of American exceptionalism. By imperiling the American experiment, and encouraging fellow travelers to do the same in their own democracies, Mr. Trump is certainly setting an example, but one that will decidedly darken the course of history.
Americans must urgently rescue their democratic experiment. Their ability to do so is critical to reversing the illiberal tide that is rising globally. Only if Americans get their own democratic house in order and demonstrate that democracy can outperform autocracy will they be able to ensure the arc of history again bends toward more freedom.
Saturday, September 19, 2026
Defeating the Felon's Effort to Reshape Civil Society
The frantic pace of the Trump presidency makes days seem like weeks and weeks like months — if not years. Finding rhyme or reason amid President Trump’s erratic conduct is impossible. Even so, while 2026 has not brought calm, it has brought more clarity.
Twenty months into his second term, Mr. Trump has remade the presidency and changed what Americans will tolerate from their government and from one another. Yet that transformation, sweeping as it is, may prove less important than what Mr. Trump and his allies could not do. They failed at the most ambitious project that they brought to his second term: using the state to remake American society. That failure is a central fact of the past 20 months, and it is why the country is in a less dangerous place than it was a year ago.
When Mr. Trump took office for the second time, he arrived with several overlapping but distinct agendas. The one he cared most about would convert the executive branch to a form of government that scholars call patrimonialism, in which the state is run as the leader’s personal property and family concern. In a patrimonialist system, expert bureaucracies and neutral rules are replaced by — or subordinated to — the head of state’s will. Where they can, patrimonialists personalize and weaponize law enforcement, pardons, programs and grants, appointments, promotions and all the other aspects of state power.
Patrimonialism is manifest in Mr. Trump’s enrichment of himself and his family, reportedly by several billion dollars — and in his effort to extract almost $1.8 billion from taxpayers by means of a sham legal settlement.
He uses his Justice Department to wage personal vendettas and his pardons to indemnify his cronies. He has staffed the department’s senior ranks with his own criminal defense attorneys, and the F.B.I. with a fierce political loyalist whose chief qualification was a career spent attacking the investigators who had scrutinized Mr. Trump. And he has purged the government’s internal checks on corruption, including by firing inspectors general, career prosecutors and F.B.I. agents whose offense was to follow the rules.
The re-norming of political standards is another area in which Mr. Trump has made a lasting imprint. By “re-norming,” we mean the deliberate degradation of what is considered acceptable in American public life.
Examples are far too many to enumerate . . . . Beneath it all is the normalization of lying on an industrial scale: tens of thousands of documented false claims as president, including false accusations against Americans and false representations to courts.
Many Americans are sick of wading through the sludge and understandably want to look away. That is what Mr. Trump is counting on. He wins not by persuading us that the conduct is acceptable, but by wearing us out until we no longer object. Each violation makes the next easier; each unpunished transgression resets the baseline. What is being broken is not this standard or that one; it’s the idea that standards apply. . . . . It is no longer clear what a president could say — about a dead man, about a murdered family, about women he has abused, about incitements to violence — that would cost him anything.
So why, despite all that, does the second year of Mr. Trump’s second term seem less menacing than the first year? Because the patrimonialism and the re-norming, damaging as they are, were only part of what he and his followers set out to do. The largest of their ambitions was something else: the remaking of American society itself.
The Trump administration’s cultural reset was ambitious. While it had the president’s support, it was devised and pursued mostly by people around him. They included top officials such as Stephen Miller, Russell Vought, and JD Vance on the inside of the administration, plus Elon Musk for the four months he worked in it; outside activists such as Christopher Rufo of the Manhattan Institute, Kevin Roberts of the Heritage Foundation, and Steve Bannon of the “ War Room” podcast . . . . This group saw Mr. Trump’s second term as their best chance to block and reverse the left’s takeover and makeover of the country’s culture and institutions. By deploying government power against the commanding heights of the culture, they sought to supplant liberal hegemony not just in Washington but throughout society.
Every administration tries to shape the culture. What sets this one apart is not the ambition, but the means and the scale — not persuasion but coercion, and not on one front but everywhere all at once, in ways that were unprecedented and found by courts to be unlawful. Mr. Trump and his administration sought to bully and commandeer private institutions, to redirect the culture, and to remake society from above by force and fear.
In a few ways, the Trumpian social revolution succeeded: by slowing, and even reversing, the momentum of so-called D.E.I. (diversity, equity and inclusion) in elite institutions and of what conservatives called “gender ideology” . . . . On the whole, though, the administration’s effort to remake the culture in its image has failed.
History may one day judge that the tide turned in Minneapolis. In January of this year, Operation Metro Surge made mass arrests, invaded homes, fired pepper balls and shot dead two American citizens, Renee Good and Alex Pretti, without plausible cause — and then, after their deaths, defamed them.
The architect of the operation, Stephen Miller, one of the most powerful presidential aides in modern history, was explicit about the method. He ran Operation Metro Surge through daily calls with the leadership of the Department of Homeland Security, wielding the authority of the president — reportedly directing agents to “force confrontations” with protesters to win the “P.R. battle”
The people of Minneapolis answered with disciplined, peaceful resistance: tens of thousands marching in Arctic cold, luminaria spelling “ICE Out 4 Good,” a statewide “economic blackout,” a state lawsuit in federal court, citizen networks that tracked ICE and documented its activities, and a population that refused every provocation.
The administration backed down . . . . By demonstrating that they could face the spectacle of force and win, Minnesotans shook off their despair and found that they were not powerless. The moment became a catalyst far beyond the Twin Cities. The mass public saw what was being done in their name and many were repulsed by it. What they glimpsed was that a country can, in fact, be lost, and that theirs had come nearer the edge than they had believed.
The president and his forces lost other key cultural battles, too. From outside his home country, but speaking pointedly to it, the first American pope not only defied Mr. Trump but transcended him, demonstrating a moral authority against which the president had no power. Within the United States, No Kings marches staged some of the largest single-day protests in American history, deploying anger and humor without fear. Lawsuits on behalf of Harvard, U.C.L.A. and law firms fought and won key rulings. Federal judges, including some of Mr. Trump’s appointees, blocked action after action. Mr. Musk’s demolition crew disbanded in failure and disrepute.
At the same time, and equally important, the president’s approval rating collapsed. Voters wanted an orderly border and criminal immigrants removed, not a culture war waged brutally in the streets. Mr. Trump’s unpopularity — abetted by his twin fresh failures on Iran and high prices — reached near-record lows for a second-term president.
His efforts to bully the culture have not stopped; he is still menacing universities and attacking free speech. No one should be relaxed about that. But his preoccupations have shifted away from intimidating and dominating civil society and toward building monuments to himself.
Revolutions can fail but still scar the landscape. And Mr. Trump, with just under two-and-a-half years left in his second term, might emotionally and psychologically blow apart. But things are different than they were. The 80-year-old president is losing his grip on power and even his own base. The MAGA movement is fracturing. And the president no longer inspires the fear he once did. We know something today that wasn’t altogether clear a year ago: America’s civil society is harder to intimidate and rewire than MAGA’s cultural revolutionaries hoped.
Conservatives have every right to influence and change the culture, as progressives assuredly have done. But they should do it Ronald Reagan’s way: by moral inspiration and persuasion, not force majeure. Progressives have something to learn, too. Mr. Trump and his culture warriors lost by moving too far out of the moral mainstream; Democrats should claim and occupy that mainstream, not lurch well out to the left, as they seem tempted to do.
Those who played a role in Mr. Trump’s rise to power have acted not just unwisely, but culpably. Even so, it is now apparent that many Americans — probably enough Americans — are determined to live within the truth rather than the lie, to fight for their civic and political self-respect, to return a sense of humanity to a nation that has grown too cold, too callous and too cruel.








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