Tag Archives: presidential character

Are Aging Powerbrokers Sinking the Nation?

Shakespeare gave his audiences fair warning about advancing age and the risks of clinging to power. By the end of the play, King Lear is old and crazy, with his dominion in chaos.

There’s a lot of discussion in the popular media about political leaders who have stayed in power too long. Our recent history with Joe Biden at age 82 and Donald Trump at 79 are the most  recent cases of apparent declines in mental stamina, though, in Trump’s case, the evidence is decidedly mixed. Incompetence and dementia can look like the same thing. There is also the example of Mitch McConnell (83) in the Senate, who appears to not have had the good graces to step down when he could keep track of his thoughts. Senator Diane Feinstein of California was incapacitated before she died at 90, and the District of Columbia’s Eleanor Holmes Norton seems to be suffering through the same frailty. On the whole, these cases and others like them feed a cultural norm of impatience with those still in power and showing unusual longevity.

Interestingly, and as a matter of policy, the Church of the Latter-Day Saints picks their oldest elder to be their leader. Dallin H. Oaks will start his term to lead the church at the age of 93, one year older than the recently elected President of the central African state of Cameroon.  By contrast, many commercial airline pilots must retire at the comparatively young age of 65. And surgeons are mostly done by age 70. But just when a trend seems clear, someone like Bernie Sanders (84) comes along,  exciting the young with his articulate and impassioned rebukes of his Senate colleagues and Donald Trump. Sanders is an example for arguing that “age is just a number.” And there is the special case that is New York City, which has just elected 32-year-old Zohran Mamdani as mayor. By comparison, and with some exceptions, many of Sander’s colleagues in Congress–most in their 60s or older–lack the inclination or stamina to be effective legislators.

Shakespeare could have easily imagined the enfeebled American nemisis, King George III, who was 81 when he died. Today, some of Britain’s senior leaders end up in the House of Lords, which has a ceremonial and advisory role in governmental affairs. We have no equivalent of a body of wise old men and women who can apply their experience to intractable national problems. That’s too bad because there are leaders from both parties who could help shape some constructive paths forward for the nation. Easing out President Nixon in 1974, after the Watergate coverup, was arguably easier because of the presence of senior members in both parties who convinced him that it was time to go.

Joe Biden’s struggles to remain alert and coherent were evident at the end of his presidency. Perhaps that is one reason so many Americans are primed to consider whether Trump is able to process information and ideas and, more tellingly, to perform the very presidential necessity of staying on point throughout a presentation. Sadly, even less than a year into his administration, some of his constituents and his counterparts in other nations no longer view him as having the character needed to be a reliable partner.  The General Services Administration will want to count the silverware when he finally leaves the public housing we mistakenly assumed he would leave in tact.

I have sympathy with younger Americans who claim that the nation’s leadership should be in the hands of more nimble minds. There is a lot of grumbling about “boomers” my age who have ostensibly damaged accesibility to the  American dream. Did we give our children too much? Did we grow too isolated and materialistic? Have we sentimentalized the accumulation of wealth at the expense of more universal values? And have we allowed our media to be turned into wall-to-wall distractions that diminish real life experience?

All of these questions are timely. On the other hand, it is easy to be disappointed to discover that many current protesters responding to Trump administration policies are much older than youthful activists in the 1960s. Protests against Isreal on college campuses are an exception. But I have attended recent rallies and marches against Trump-era policies where the age of the average attender seems to be on the far side of 60. That is not going to cut it if we are going to renew this society.

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Trump’s Strategy Mindset

                            Wikipedia.org

It can be no surprise that a businessman known for turning his name into a brand would also see himself as a master dealmaker. There is perceived power in the flattering perception of being several steps ahead of competitors.  

Anyone struggling to parse the President’s behavior confronts a virtual festival of personality tics. There are the graceless declarations of his “high” intelligence, the pretension of being a master strategist, and the unearned certainty that accompanies the declaration of bogus truths. The endless issuing of false claims is especially stunning (i.e., The U.S. has the highest taxes of any nation; Fredrick Douglas is doing an “amazing job,” etc).  And then there are all of the threatening tweets and serial name-calling.  Vituperation used to be a White House rarity; it was never a presidential form. Presidents  have customarily vented in private and praised in public. Trump’s manufactured feuds not only mark him as an indifferent caretaker of important traditions, but a figure who sees an advantage in the constant name-calling. Its management by division, using presidential rebukes as forms of intimidation.

What is going on with this needy and self-dealing figure?  Why the manufactured hostility?  Have we ever had a leader who was so imprisoned by limited rhetorical skills?

Trump’s kind of bluster seems to be a consequence of both his social awkwardness, and a New York aggressiveness expressed in the language of marketing. Psychoanalyst Erich Fromm described a “marketing personality” as a character type common in individuals captured by a compulsion to sell themselves as a commodity. It follows that they find personal legitimacy in self-referential comments affirming their acceptance and enviable success.

Normally a marketing mentality comes with a degree of affability.  A communication form such as selling is intrinsically “other-directed.” But if a person is not capable of other-direction, and if the “brand” to be preserved is one’s own name, there seems to be a clear motivation to engage in aggressive self-protection. This can take the form of the preemptive bluster that defines Donald Trump.  But it also includes immodest assertions of power, such as using 20-foot letters of his name on the outside of  his buildings. Both the aggression and self-promotion function to assure the doubting that he’s a “player,” and “deal-maker:” the smartest man in the room who can bend anyone to his personal goals.

There is perceived power in the flattering perception of oneself as several steps ahead of competitors. Mastering markets results in a lot of talk about “tactics” and “targets,” “ratings” and “winning.” It persists even if true success alludes him. Indeed, ambiguity over genuine markers of achievement actually helps, since it allows individuals to declare their own “winning” moments.  Investment analysts, traders and marketing “creatives” are often deep into this game, and often able to profit from the mystifications that come with vaguely understood “deals,” “yields,” “growth projections,” and “branding.”

All of this seems to be a particularly masculine need. No set of thought-patterns are fully gender-specific. But it seems clear that there are psychic rewards for performing what seems like the uniquely masculine stance of the consummate strategist. In fact, this male can find it downright fun to watch a set of strategic masterstrokes play out.  We usually need a film like George Roy Hill’s classic The Sting (1973) to pull it off. The story of a “con” played against a ruthless New York mob leader remains a thing of beauty, helped by the fact that male icons Paul Newman and Robert Redford seemed to relish their characters’ guile. In a different way the same anticipation of secret moves sprung the unsuspecting is obvious when listening to a ‘color commentator” rhapsodize about the ideas of an NFL coach.  And while women play poker and frequently win, it’s mostly the men around the table who love to talk about strategy.

Our point is that it’s frequently enough to perform the attitude of a consummate strategist.  And so in Trump we find that specific questions about future presidential actions—a few as consequential as whether the nation will wage nuclear war with North Korea–end up being answered with no more than a half smile and a “we’ll see.” The real estate tycoon relishes these teases. They are meant to remind us that he already has some winning plan. It’s a developer’s prerogative to bet on on implausible promise. Never mind that the building  planned for an empty field will never be built.  An illustrator’s evocative image on nearby sign is reason enough to celebrate. In the same way all the talk of “action” coming from this White House  functionally diverts attention from an administration foundering amidst legislative and diplomatic failures.

The rhetoric of strategy is inherently inflated with bluffs.  But that feature destabilizes when used by a head of government. Governments need transparency and predictability, neither of which are possible if a leader imagines that leadership is a game of moves and countermoves.