Surveys suggest that in many western democracies, political trust is at rock bottom. Scandals, corruption, faltering economies, conspiracy theories and swirling disinformation are all playing their part. But is it really such a bad thing for people living in a democracy to distrust their government?
In this episode of The Conversation Weekly, we talk to political scientist Grant Duncan about why he thinks a certain level of distrust and skepticism of powerful politicians is actually healthy for democracy. And about how populists, like Donald Trump, manage to use people’s distrust in political elites to their advantage.
Grant Duncan says most people don’t grow up thinking “Do I trust the government?” unless they’re asked by a pollster. And yet when things go wrong, he says, “we have good reason to stop and ask about promises kept or not kept”.
Duncan, who is from New Zealand, is currently a visiting scholar in politics at City St George’s, University of London in the UK. His research focuses on the problems with political trust and how to get better governments. He argues that in democracies, people are not supposed to trust their government.
"Democratic constitutions are built on the premise that you can’t trust anyone with power. That’s why we have separation of powers, why we have periodic elections, a free press, people monitoring constantly what’s going on, because we trust no one in a democracy with political power.“
Populists fill the gaps
Duncan says, for example, that there would have been no United States of America without the American colonists’ deep distrust of the government of King George III in England. Yet, he admits there is a paradox at the heart of democratic systems, which rely on trust to function. If you vote in a representative system, you’re "placing a huge amount of trust in a very small number of people who will pass laws and governments and make decisions on our behalf”, he says.
Duncan believes Donald Trump’s re-election as US president directly reflects the mood of political distrust in the country. Trump, alongside other populists from both the left and the right around the world, has exploited this paradox around representative government which means a small elite are entrusted with a lot of power.
“ Often what happens is that a large section of society feel that changes are going on around them that they don’t understand, they don’t like, they haven’t approved. And it only takes one smart leader to think, I can make political capital out of this by getting up on the hustings and saying, ‘I speak to you, the real people the forgotten people … I speak for you’.”
Getting better leaders
There are ways to improve the trust that people have in their democracies, and while it’s not just about blaming the government, Duncan believes those who wield power bear the much greater responsibility:
“If politicians and senior public servants are worried about how to rebuild public trust, the first thing they need to do is take a look in the mirror, because we need trustworthy leaders. We don’t want misconduct and scandals.”
Alongside that comes actually competently delivering public services, and ensuring people’s safety and security. And having leaders, who are conscious of their limitations, and transparent about the challenges they’re facing, particularly in the face of technological developments like artificial intelligence. Charismatic leaders aren’t going to come along and fix the problems for us, he says.
"I think we get too entranced by charisma and on the other hand maybe too angry about leaders who don’t meet our expectations. So we need a kind of dedication to the task of government because so much is going to change and we need to remember that political trust is not a thing that gets broken and rebuilt like a machine. It’s a human phenomenon that we all share in.“
Listen to the full episode of The Conversation Weekly podcast to hear Grant Duncan talk about his research on political trust.
Newsclips in this episode from CBS News, ABC News (Australia) and PBS Newshour, Sky News.
This episode of The Conversation Weekly was written and produced by Gemma Ware, Mend Mariwany and Katie Flood. Sound design was by Michelle Macklem, and our theme music is by Neeta Sarl.
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Ware is host of The Conversation Weekly Podcast, The Conversation
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A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.