It’s hard to recall all of President Trump’s most outrageous remarks from his second term in office. For most presidents, even one of these would have been damaging, but not for Trump. There were so many that they became one political storm after another, with each new one blurring the memory of the previous one.
Even many of Trump’s strongest supporters admit that some of his statements can’t be defended. In case recent events have blurred together, here’s a recap of Trump’s 10 most outrageous statements or actions since he returned to the White House just over a year ago:
1. Suggesting Elections Could Be Suspended if the U.S. Is “In a War." During an Oval Office meeting with President Zelenskyy, Trump said: “So let me just say, three‑and‑a‑half years from now… So you mean if we happen to be in a war with somebody, no more elections. I wonder what the fake news would say to that.” Five months later, he appeared to question the need for elections altogether. “When you think of it, we shouldn’t even have an election,” he told Reuters, boasting that he had accomplished so much that midterms were unnecessary. For a sitting president to muse publicly about suspending elections was widely viewed as one of the most destabilizing statements of his presidency.
2. Invoking the Alien Enemies Act to Justify Sweeping Wartime Powers. The administration claimed the U.S. was being “invaded” by a Venezuelan gang and used this to justify extraordinary executive authority, including the capture of Nicolás Maduro. Legal scholars across the political spectrum described the move as unprecedented.
3. Claiming His “Own Morality” Is the Only Limit on His Power. In a New York Times interview, Trump dismissed traditional checks and balances, saying the only constraint on his presidential authority was “my own morality. My own mind.” The remark alarmed constitutional experts who noted that presidents typically emphasize institutional limits, not personal ones.
4. Proposing a U.S. Takeover of the Gaza Strip. At a White House press conference, Trump said the U.S. should assume “long‑term ownership” of Gaza after the war and oversee its reconstruction. “We’ll own it and be responsible for dismantling all of the dangerous unexploded bombs and other weapons on the site,” he said, according to BBC reporting. The idea that the United States could simply take control of Gaza, home to more than two million Palestinians, stunned diplomats. For a president to float the unilateral takeover of foreign territory was widely viewed as one of the most extreme foreign‑policy statements of his second term.
5. Reviving His Bid To Acquire Greenland. Trump again insisted he was “very serious” about the U.S. acquiring Greenland, calling it essential for national security and Arctic strategy. He suggested the U.S. might pursue control “whether they like it or not,” either the “easy way or the hard way,” and threatened tariffs on NATO and European allies who opposed the idea. Danish officials called the proposal “absurd,” but Trump continued to raise it publicly.
6. The Rob Reiner Death Statement. After Rob and Michele Reiner were murdered, Trump posted a message suggesting Reiner’s death was linked to “a mind‑crippling disease known as TRUMP DERANGEMENT SYNDROME,” and called him paranoid and obsessed.
7. Calling Canada America’s "51st U.S. state." Throughout the past year, Trump repeatedly referred to Canada as America’s “51st state.” He floated the idea that Canada could “become a state” to eliminate tariffs and simplify trade disputes. During a bilateral meeting with Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, Trump said Canada might be “better off as part of the U.S.” Carney rejected the idea, but Trump added, “never say never,” leaving diplomats stunned.
8. Repeating Unfounded Claims About Elections and Political Rivals. Trump repeatedly returned to unfounded claims about elections and political opponents, insisting the 2020 election had been “rigged and stolen” despite the absence of evidence. He described rivals as “corrupt,” “crooked,” and “enemies of the people,” framing them as existential threats rather than democratic opponents. He also warned that Democrats would “cheat again” in upcoming elections and claimed that only “a fair vote” — a term he never defined — would allow Republicans to win.
9. Framing Domestic Issues as “War,” “Invasion,” or “Terrorism.” Trump repeatedly used war‑like language to describe domestic issues, especially immigration and crime. He said the U.S. was “being invaded,” called the southern border “a war zone,” and described migrants as “terrorists.” In speeches, he warned supporters that “this is a war for the survival of our nation” and insisted Americans must “take our country back.” Experts note that this framing helps justify extraordinary executive action in contexts where such language has never been used before.
10. Attacking Elon Musk With False Claims and Personal Insults. As Trump’s relationship with Elon Musk deteriorated, he launched a series of attacks filled with false claims and personal insults. He wrote: “Elon Musk is a bullsh*t artist” and “He came to the White House begging for help.” He also falsely suggested Musk was implicated in the Jeffrey Epstein scandal, saying Musk had “a lot of problems coming” and hinting that his name would appear in unreleased documents — a claim for which no evidence has surfaced.
Of course, there are many more. But listing them only would distract from the deeper question too often overlooked:
Are these remarks just random outbursts, or are they part of a deliberate strategy to control and distort the public conversation?
The pattern is now clear. Trump says something extreme, his critics react with shock, and his supporters normalize it. After a day or two of dominating the news, the story shifts again. The shocking remark or action is quickly replaced by the next provocation.
This isn’t random. It’s a strategy to control the news cycle and dull the impact of the outrageous. Trump’s statements, whether cruel, hyperbolic, delegitimizing, or cast in the language of war, serve a consistent purpose. They keep the public in a state of reactive attention. When the political environment is shaped by his words, he controls the frame. When opponents feel compelled to respond, he controls the message. When institutions scramble to interpret or contain his statements, he controls the terrain.
In this environment, complexity works against his opponents. Nuance is treated as a weakness. Any expression of concern is dismissed as Trump Derangement Syndrome. And so the country gets trapped in a cycle where the president’s most extreme statements aren’t outliers but instruments. They shape what the public debates, what the media amplifies, and what his supporters come to see as normal.
The danger isn’t just in the statements themselves. It’s in the overall effect: a dangerous political culture where shock replaces substance, and the president’s words become the gravitational center of national life. So the question is no longer whether Trump’s remarks are outrageous. They are. The question is whether we recognize the cost of living inside a narrative architecture built on provocation, dominance, and perpetual destabilization and develop an effective strategy to counter it.
Because if we don’t see the strategy, we end up playing into it.
And if we don’t push back, we risk accepting a political reality where truth, trust, reason, civility, and the dignity of all people—the values that once anchored American democracy—are seen not as shared commitments but as weaknesses to be used against us.
But specifically, what does resist mean? What should the media’s best response be? What should his opponents do, and what is the public's role as this all plays out?
The Media: If Trump’s provocations are strategic, then the media’s reflexive outrage is part of the system he relies on. The solution is not to ignore his statements, as they are too consequential for that. Instead, they must change the approach. Instead of focusing on the shock, journalists can highlight the pattern, the repetition, the escalation, and the political purpose behind the chaos. They can provide context rather than sensationalize, analyze rather than react, and refuse to let the most inflammatory remark of the day eclipse the underlying policy consequences. This means shifting from constant “breaking news” to structural reporting. Less “can you believe what he just said?” and more “here is how these fit into a long‑running strategy to control the narrative and destabilize democratic norms." When the press stops feeding the fire, the blaze diminishes and so does the strategy built on it.
Opponents: Trump’s political opponents face a different challenge. Every time they respond to his most extreme statements, they reinforce his centrality. And their outrage becomes a trap. The alternative is not silence — it is reframing.
Opponents can shift the discussion back to concrete issues, lived experience, and the practical consequences of governance. They can highlight the gap between spectacle and substance, between rhetoric and results.
The best way to counter the politics of provocation is with steadiness. This doesn’t mean being passive or pretending both sides are the same. It means refusing to get pulled into daily drama. When opponents share a vision grounded in stability, competence, and shared democratic values, they offer the public something Trump’s approach can’t: a sense of direction anchored in shared democratic values and the ethical responsibility we owe one another as citizens.
The Public’s Role: Ultimately, the solution is not about institutions; it is about culture. Democracy cannot function when its citizens are always on edge. The first step to breaking the cycle is to recognize how manipulation works: the cycle of provocation, reaction, normalization, and forgetting. When people see the pattern, it loses its hold.
The Bigger Danger: The bigger danger isn’t that Trump says outrageous things—it’s that we grow accustomed to them. We must actively resist the erosion of standards, the dulling of outrage, and the normalization of what should never be accepted. Democracy depends not only on laws and institutions, but on our collective willingness to distinguish truth from spectacle, leadership from dominance, and real governance from chaos.
First, we must see his strategy clearly and refuse to be governed by it. But clarity alone isn’t enough. The moment demands that we begin the harder work of rebuilding a civic culture where truth, dignity, and democratic norms are not vulnerabilities to be exploited but moral commitments we choose to uphold. Our democracy requires the ethical courage to defend the values that make self‑government possible.
David L. Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.




















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.