Dear readers, we can all agree that Donald Trump is the worst, right? I don’t ask that question as if it’s a matter of relativity, or in a “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” type of way: Is it not universally accepted that Donald Trump makes Kim Jong-un look like a reasonable human being in comparison? At least Kim acts within the established parameters for how a statesman ought to behave in North Korea (that is to say, like a petulant child). No such boundaries exist for the Trump.
The Trump is a man who casually insults vast swaths of the American populace utilizing racist rhetoric, and he still somehow manages to generate headlines like “Strong Showings for Donald Trump in Iowa and New Hampshire Polls.” The Trump is the kind of person who asks potential dates to be tested for AIDS before taking them out for dinner — that is 100 percent true, by the way. Despite — or perhaps due to — all of this, the Trumpinator is the leading pick among Republican voters to be their candidate for the 2016 presidential campaign.
Several people I’ve spoken to find it amusing, and I understand why: We all know that Trump isn’t going to become the president of the United States, much less the Republican nominee. The amusement stems from the parade of idiocy and hatred that Trump is going to leave in his bronzed, flabby wake over the next few months. Satirical publication The Onion summed it up best with its fictitious op-ed purportedly written by Trump himself, “Admit It: You People Want To See How Far This Goes, Don’t You?” Following the Trump campaign is no different than watching a particularly terrible reality television show. Both give ordinary people an inside look into what happens when an individual acts with utter disregard for compassion, decency and his fellow human beings.
From an intellectual perspective, I get it — the runaway success of shows like “Breaking Bad” (and yes, “The Apprentice”) has illustrated that Americans love to watch bad men do awful things. But on an emotional level, the Trump campaign and the momentum behind it has genuinely disturbed me. The prospect of reality television stars running for the highest office in the land has long been the stuff of dystopian comedies and satire, with the keyword being “dystopian.” It’s perfectly fine that Americans can’t wait to see what will emerge from the Trump camp next; why just the other day, an article from The Daily Beast dredged up a 20-year-old deposition from Trump’s divorce with his former wife, Ivana, wherein she accused him of rape.
It isn’t even the possibility that Trump is prone to spousal abuse that horrifies me (given his inclination to make curt, racist remarks, misogynistic actions aren’t that big of a stretch) but rather, the shockingly high number of Americans who find him, quote, “refreshing.” Many of the think pieces analyzing Trump’s success within the Republican demographic have revolved around the idea that many Republicans find him to be a nice change of pace from, and I quote again, “D.C. insiders.” While I would agree that many “D.C. insiders” are reprehensible individuals, at least a sizable portion carry themselves with an air of dignity, even it it’s patently false and unearned. This is because “D.C. insiders” are politicians, and a politician (at least in an ideal world) ought to represent the best civic society has to offer, even under pretense. I don’t need to recount why the Trumpster doesn’t qualify here, as he’s done a fine job of that on his own. I simply can’t grasp the appeal: How could Trump lead an entire country, when he fails so spectacularly at being a decent human being?
Like a real-life Gordon Gekko, Donald Trump is an inordinately wealthy, ethically bankrupt businessman who has successfully utilized populist sentiment to convince people that he’s “one of us.” Whether his success is a testament to his abilities as a snake oil salesman, or to the gullibility of Americans, both explanations are tragic. Real American politicians have already made a mockery of the political process — let’s not let Trump disfigure it beyond the ability to be recognized.
Zach Schlein is a UF political science senior. His column appears on Thursdays.
[A version of this story ran on page 6 on 7/30/15]
