Tom Nichols says it all
Trump’s making us all crazy and we have to resist:
The 2024 election has become a kind of waking nightmare in which many of us stare at Donald Trump as he unleashes some new attack on any number of targets: a judge’s daughter, immigrants, the rule of law, American national security, the Constitution. And we blink and shake our heads, stunned to think that many of our fellow citizens are eager to put this autocratic ignoramus back in the White House.
In a more normal time in American life, people had to leave politics for having a nanogram of Trump’s baggage. Think of the late Senator Thomas Eagleton, the 1972 Democratic vice-presidential pick who had to drop out of the race because he’d been treated for depression. The idea—how old-fashioned it seems now—was that America could not risk any possible mental-health issues not only in the president, but even in the person next in the line of succession. Today, however, we have a former president who exhibits all kinds of signs of a disordered personality—and yet the big worry among many voters (and too much of the media) is whether his opponent is missing a step because he’s roughly 42 months older than Trump.
All of this is enervating and exhausting. But that’s the point: Trump is succeeding because he is, to use Steve Bannon’s infamous expression, seeking to “flood the zone with shit.” Trump’s opponents are flummoxed by how he provokes one new outrage on top of another, and each time they believe he’s finally—finally—gone too far. Bombarding the public space with deranged statements and dangerous threats, however, is not a mistake; it’s a strategy.
By overwhelming people with the sheer volume and vulgarity of his antics, Trump and his team are trying to burn out the part of our brains that can discern truth from fiction, right from wrong, good from evil. His campaign’s goal is to turn voters into moral zombies who can no longer tell the difference between Stormy and Hunter or classified documents and personal laptops, who cannot parse what a “bloodbath” means, who no longer have the ability to be shocked when a political leader calls other human beings “animals” and “vermin.”
Trump isn’t worried that all of this will cause voters to have a kind of mental meltdown: He’s counting on it. He needs ordinary citizens to become so mired in moral chaos and so cognitively paralyzed that they are unable to comprehend the disasters that would ensue if he returns to the White House.
He points out that the polls show that it’s working, that millions are in a “fugue state called ‘undecided'” as if the past eight years never happened.
He acknowledges how hard it is to stay engaged. I feel that. Sometimes it makes me physically ill to watch him and seeing his cult followers and listening to what they say makes me profoundly depressed. I’m stunned that he’s still a threat after all we’ve seen. But Nichols is right:
But to ignore Trump is a mistake. To dismiss him as an incompetent clown is dangerous. Voters who care about democracy, who care about the future of freedom in America and around the world, must steel themselves to stay in the political process. We do not need to explode over every attempt to bait and troll us. Instead, we can let every one of his manic outbursts increase our resolve to speak clearly and plainly in defense of our system of government and our democratic culture—especially to family and friends who might be treading water in the ever-filling Trump septic pool.
…Think of how previous generations engaged with politics: by reading a newspaper, watching an hour of news, and talking with friends and neighbors and other citizens in their community. When I was a boy, Americans managed to confront immense questions of national importance without withdrawing into comfort zones and information silos.
Now we face an existential threat to our democracy. Perhaps we might think about how to revive the civic practices and sensibilities—especially staying informed without becoming overwhelmed or falling into despair—that got us through those earlier crises.
He adds this advice, which I think is good:
Many people assume that folks like me who write about politics are news junkies. They think we dive into the cable shows in the morning and lull ourselves to sleep at night with the latest podcasts. Yes, I pay more attention to the news (and to books about politics, and other sources) than do most people, and sometimes—during a crisis or a big event when I know I’ll have to write—I do, in fact, just stay glued to my TV and my laptop. But otherwise, that level of news consumption is not healthy. I don’t do it, and neither should you.
You might think that, come 5 p.m., I am immersed in cable news. (Hey, sometimes I’m on those shows, and sure, there are days when I watch for hours.) But let me put in a word here for indulging in regular mental breaks. In my case, as many of you know, that means vintage television: Although I enjoy catching up on the news over dinner, more often you’ll find me chuckling with my wife over the clipped, staccato dialogue of Adam-12 or having a laugh with a rerun of Cheers. (“Hey, what’s happening, Norm?” “Well, it’s a dog-eat-dog world, Sammy, and I’m wearing Milk-Bone underwear.”)
If you’re going to make it to November, stay up to date, but don’t forget to unplug now and then. (Reading The Atlantic regularly, of course, is a great way to stay informed.) Few of us are required to have instantaneous knowledge of the day’s events; we can catch up on the news in various ways once or twice a day. Give yourself a break. You’re going to need it.
I too am a news junkie but I do what he does. I’d lose my mind if I stayed glued to developments 24/7. I do write late at night three times a week but I always turn it off in the evening. I find that nordic noirs never fail to cheer me up. And I do this even though it’s my job to follow this stuff closely. Checking in once or twice a day is enough for any normal person. But everyone needs to stay engaged. We can’t let this monster win by turning us into moral zombies. We just can’t.