The Broken

I've been labeled a trump-hater. My response is always the same: I don't hate trump. He's a fool, a clown, a lowlife, a child, a scam artist—he is what he is. You can't blame trump for being psychologically and morally damaged. I don't hold him responsible for his nature. I blame the people who choose to elevate and support such an obviously damaged person. If there is one truism in politics, it's that we get the leaders we deserve. The leaders we elevate tell us far less about them and everything about us. And the picture this paints is ugly.

Well, not here in Canada, not so much anyhow. With our recent choice of leader—a smart, highly educated, accomplished, competent, and decent person—we seem to be in relatively good shape. Justin Trudeau, for all his vacuousness and inexperience early on, always seemed to have his heart in the right place. That counts for something.

Trump is a profoundly self-centered, hollow, malignant, uncaring, vengeful, and broken individual. He is not an aberration; he is an avatar—a projection of the people who support him. And that, more than trump himself, is what should alarm us. He is not Hitler. He is not a fascist ideologue. He is something more banal and insidious: A self-enriching, historically ignorant, narcissistic commercial brand masquerading as a political movement.

Still, the comparison between America in the early 21st century and Germany in the early 20th century is not entirely misplaced. As in Weimar Germany, trump's rise reflects a society disoriented by loss, humiliation, and rapid change. Hitler rose from the ashes of defeat espousing a mythic vision of national rebirth. Trump, in his own way, invokes a mythical past, blames foreigners and "elites" for decline, and presents himself as the only saviour. The difference is that Hitler was an ideologue, he believed in something greater than himself —something horrifying, yes, but coherent. Trump believes only in himself and leverages the national symbols for the purposes of self-aggrandizement and enrichment.

The deeper issue is this: broken people choose broken, destructive leaders. By "broken," I mean people who are hopeless, alienated, detached from meaning and community. People who feel victimized and unseen. Such people are drawn to lies that comfort and communities that offer rigid belonging. Broken people are prime targets for cults, conspiracies, and authoritarianism. In this context the analogy of  Germany is appropriate.  

The brokenness that we see in politics has its roots in the fragmentation of the social fabric that began decades ago, during the 1960s—a decade of enormous social upheaval in the U.S. The Vietnam War, political assassinations, the rise of feminism, the questioning of traditional authority, family dissolution, the decline of organized religion and civic groups—all of it contributed to a kind of cultural splintering. That process has strenghthened and accelerated in recent decades with the rise of algorithmically-driven social media. Put plainly, the social forces that are pulling us apart, especially with the new individualized technologies, have become vastly stronger than the ones promoting unity and cohesion. Trump exemplifies the political expression of this fragmentation reaching the mainstream. 

Again, Trump is not Hitler. But that doesn’t make him harmless. He damages institutions, corrodes trust, and fosters extremism. The real danger isn’t just him, but what he represents: a profound disintegration of shared values and disenchantment with civic life. This problem doesn’t have a quick fix. It can’t be solved with a better candidate or a sharper debate performance. It can't be repaired by policy choices. That's why we have seen the Democrats struggle to find a voice. It's why the media has struggled so haplessly to cover the new discourse. Conventional politics doesn't address the basic problem. This is a cultural and psychological crisis as much as a political one.

The path toward restoring a political discourse of common sense and decency needs to engender rebuilding trust, community, and common purpose. That will take time, imagination, and institutions willing to evolve. Trump is a symptom, not a cause. The illness is a fragmented, disillusioned society. We may be distracted by the clown show for a while - who doesn't love a circus? But eventually the circus leaves town and we'll have to clean up the mess. There will be a reckoning.