2 Different Trump Promises: Carrots And Sticks
One of the dominant narratives of the 2024 election is how Trump has been making consistently outlandish promises to voters that fly in the face of his term as president— and in the face of reality. He’ll say anything for a vote. Mark Cuban summed his character up pretty well today: “That’s the ‘Roy Cohn School of Management.’ You demonize and demonize and demonize and give credit to nobody else. And that is the antithesis of good leadership. That’s the antithesis of good character. That’s the antithesis of being ethical. That’s who Donald Trump is. I’ve known him for 25 years. I’m never going to say we were best friends, but he is the most unethical… Lacks character, dishonest person… I’ve ever done business with or worked with.”
Two nights ago Trump said he would (somehow) bring down the interest rate on credit cards to 10%. The average rate is now a bit over 21%. When Bernie and AOC suggested a 15% cap a few years ago, didn’t the Republicans lose their minds over it and label them both socialists and commies?
Before Trump made up the 10% cap on credit card interest rates for the Long Island rubes— a rate actually determined by banks and influenced by the Federal Reserve’s policy (not by the president) he promised a cap on gas prices, another thing that presidents can’t do on their own… unless it’s part of that dictator thing he yearns for. He pledged to bring down gas prices to $2 a gallon even though prices are almost entirely driven by global supply and demand forces, not anything a president can single-handedly control.
Before that, he falsely claimed there was a 43% increase in violent crime since he left office. In reality, violent crime trends are complex and vary across the country and have headed downward since he left office, not even counting all the crimes he and his regime were responsible for. Furthermore, many of the reforms he promises to implement, such as federal involvement in local policing, ignore that most criminal justice policies are set at the state and local levels.
Even without Project 2025, Trump promised to overhaul the U.S. election system by mandating “one-day voting” and proof of citizenship at the polls. This disregards the fact that voting laws are set by states and that the changes he suggests would face constitutional challenges or be impractical to implement nationwide.
Most of his most provocative campaign promises are based on exaggerations or ideas that are outside the scope of presidential power. Many of his pledges would require substantial legislative support and changes to state laws, making them highly misleading to voters. And, like everything with him, they virtually all center around what will benefit Trump, not America.
Yesterday’s Wall Street Journal report on the credit card interest rate trial balloon was the same kind of thumbs down on a populist proposal you would expect from The Journal if he came from Bernie. And Angel Au-Yeung pointed out that “the average credit-card interest rate hasn’t fallen below 10% as far back as 1994.” It’s good idea… to bad it’s coming from a con-man with no intention of following through on it.
Besides, “banks,” wrote Au-Yeung, “might also impose other fees to make up for the lost revenue... [like] annual annual fees on cards that previously didn’t have them, or raising the fees on cards that do. The American Bankers Association said the Trump cap ‘would result in the loss of credit for the very consumers who need it the most.’ It said those borrowers would be forced to use riskier alternatives, including payday lenders and loan sharks.”
And there’s another kind of promise Trump keeps making— apocalypse if he’s not elected: doom that never comes. That’s because he’s got that old Louis XIV syndrome: “L'etat, c'est moi.” Alex Seitz-Wald noted that in 2020 Trump insisted that if the election didn’t go his way, the economy would tank, a Depression would ensue, the stock market would crash, Christmas would be canceled and America as we know it will be “finished.” American voters soundly rejected him and “none of Trump’s prophesied cataclysms materialized under Biden’s presidency. But that has not stopped Trump from recycling some of the same dark portents about a Kamala Harris presidency.” He’s screeching about a depression, stock market crash, open borders, the outlawing of religion, a crime wave, eradication of the auto industry in Michigan and, of course, SOCIALISM! again when Kamala wins.
Trump’s insistence that he embodies the nation, alongside his apocalyptic warnings if not reelected, taps into a historical phenomenon shared by authoritarians throughout history— including, of course, Napoleon, Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini, Franco, Idi Amin, Ferdinand Marcos, Saddam Hussein and Netanyahu. This kind of mindset, where the leader equates their personal fate with the nation’s destiny, should be looked at through a combination of psychological traits often associated with authoritarian personalities and narcissistic leadership. Like Trump, these people all possessed inflated senses of self-importance and saw themselves as indispensable to the well-being of their nations. They cultivated images where they alone could protect or guide the country, and any threat to their leadership was framed as a threat to the nation itself.
This identification of the leader with the state often stems from what Erich Fromm labelled “malignant narcissism,” characterized by a lack of empathy, a craving for admiration, and a constant need to assert dominance. Leaders with this trait, like Trump and Putin, fear being irrelevant, which is why their rhetoric often frames their removal as an existential crisis for the nation. The idea is that the state and the leader are indivisible, and any alternative leadership is inherently inferior or dangerous. Trump’s narrative portrays himself as the only person who can protect America from perceived enemies— immigrants, foreign adversaries or domestic malefactors and opponents. zIn Trump’s case and most of these others, we’re looking at “grandiose narcissism,” where the self-image is inflated to the point of equating their personal rule with the state’s survival.
Trump’s hysterical apocalyptic rhetoric plays into fear, another psychological mechanism. By consistently predicting catastrophe if not in power, Trump (like Putin and Netanyahu today) triggers a sense of dependency in his supporters. People who are constantly told that their safety, prosperity, and way of life hinge on one leader are less likely to question that leader’s actions. This rhetoric sows distrust in democratic institutions, suggesting that only the leader can “fix” the system, making their personal fate inseparable from the nation’s fate.
Louis XIV ruled France for over 70 years, establishing the idea of the absolute monarchy. He centralized power to such an extent that France’s prosperity was seen as being tied directly to him. In his view, to challenge his authority was to challenge France itself. Trump’s political style draws from this playbook: the discrediting of elections, institutions and even traditional norms of governance serves to undermine faith in anything but his leadership.
Psychologists posit that this kind of grandiose narcissism that justifies authoritarians’ hold on power stems from insecurity, fear of losing control, delusions of grandeur and fragility.
Let’s look at Netanyahu, instead of Trump for a moment— since they have so much in common, including fear of imprisonment if the let go of power. Like Trump, Netanyahu portrays himself as indispensable to Israel’s security and prosperity, claiming that without his leadership, the country would face severe threats— both from external enemies and internal instability. His political career has been marked by a narrative that ties his personal success to Israel’s survival, using fear of existential threats to maintain power and suppress opposition. He consistently frames himself as the only leader capable of ensuring Israel’s security. He has long used the specter of external enemies— such as Iran, Hezbollah, and Hamas— to argue that only his government can effectively protect the country. For example, in his frequent warnings about Iran’s nuclear program, Netanyahu presents the issue as one that requires his unique leadership to prevent catastrophe. During Israel’s numerous elections over the past several years, Netanyahu employed tactics to suggest that his removal would bring chaos and leave Israel vulnerable. He depicted political rivals as weak on national defense and incapable of dealing with the security challenges Israel faces, reinforcing the idea that without him, the state would falter. Like Trump, he’s fostered a political environment where loyalty to him personally often outweighs loyalty to the party or broader political movement. His ability to craft a narrative of indispensability has kept him in power for longer than any other Israeli prime minister, and he’s used his position to erode democratic checks on his authority. His actions, such as attempting to weaken Israel’s judiciary through proposed judicial “reforms,” reflect a desire for unchecked control— similar to how authoritarian figures seek to consolidate power.