Assari is an associate professor of public health and Internal Medicine at Charles R. Drew University of Medicine and Science. He is a member of the Scholars Strategy Network.
On Thursday, we witnessed a debate between President Joe Biden and former President Donald Trump. What captured most of the audience's attention were Biden's occasional stumbles and Trump's numerous statements inaccuracies. Biden appeared humble and policy-focused, while Trump was loud, assertive and well-spoken.
However, another significant aspect was Trump's rhetoric, which was often filled with threats, fear and loss, especially on topics like immigration and crime. In contrast, Biden's points were primarily centered around policies and statistics aimed at benefiting Americans overall, with a particular focus on the vulnerable.
Despite Biden's stumbles and Trump's lower factual accuracy, Trump's emphasis on the power of negative information gave him an advantage. His strategy tapped into the human mind's bias towards negative information.
When comparing the influence of good and bad, there is an undeniable truth: Bad is stronger than good. This phenomenon, deeply rooted in the human psyche, has significant implications in various domains, including politics. Understanding this principle helps explain why Trump had the upper hand in the debate.
A basic and powerful fact about the human mind is its preferential attention devoted to threats. Our memories are also inherently biased towards negative experiences. This is not just a superficial observation; it's a well-documented phenomenon in social psychology and economics literature. It is also rooted in human evolution and the wiring of our brain. Roy F. Baumeister and his colleagues famously highlighted this in their paper, "Bad Is Stronger than Good," which has been cited over 10,000 times by other scientists.
Baumeister's review paper, published in 2001, showed us that negative events have a more significant impact on our emotions, thoughts and behaviors than positive ones.
For instance, people react more strongly to threats and failures than to opportunities and successes. This is evident in experiments where negative experiences consistently overshadow positive ones in terms of emotional impact.
In various domains, from romance to everyday interactions, negative experiences tend to have a more profound and lasting effect than positive ones. This is because the human brain is wired to prioritize and remember negative stimuli as a survival mechanism.
Baumeister's review provided us with many real-world examples that illustrate why negative information is more compelling.
Journalists know that stories about negative news often receive more attention and are more widely shared than positive ones. This is because we are naturally drawn to bad news, which we perceive as more urgent and important. On social media, posts that evoke anger, fear, or outrage tend to go viral more quickly than those that promote happiness or positivity. This is a direct consequence of the mind's bias towards bad information.
Economists have also shown us asymmetry between our sensitivity to loss and reward/gain. The pain of losing $10 may be more than the reward from winning $20. Neuroscientists, meanwhile, have shown how more primitive parts of our brain are responsible for our loss aversion.
It's essential for the audience to be aware of the power of Trump’s messaging about threats and negativity. Such messaging continues to give him an edge, regardless of the actual probabilities of these fears. This continuous advantage is not just a matter of political tactics but is deeply rooted in the psychological makeup of the audience.
At the same time, Biden did not sufficiently focus on the threats posed to our democracy by a second Trump term and MAGA Republicans. This was a missed opportunity during the debate. By highlighting the potential risks of another Jan. 6 and the negative consequences associated with a second Trump administration, Biden could have better leveraged the power of bad, which could persuade undecided voters who are wary of the MAGA agenda.
As we reflect on the impact of the debate, Americans should be mindful that some of Trump's advantage in Thursday's debate was not solely due to Biden's occasional stumbles but also to Trump's excellence in harnessing the "power of bad." This proficiency could influence election results. Understanding these psychological principles can help us mitigate the unparalleled influence of such tactics.
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.