One undeniable fact that Donald Trump seems to have grasped in his seventy-eight years is that constantly lying offers distinct advantages—primarily that nobody can discern when he’s bluffing and when he genuinely means his words. Imposing heavy tariffs on allies? Betraying Ukraine? Using government power for personal vendettas against political rivals? The President has threatened to undertake all these actions and has reiterated his intentions repeatedly. Yet even now, following an explosive start to his second term marked by destabilizing actions alongside his fiery rhetoric, a lingering uncertainty remains—partly because no one can definitively determine: How far is he truly willing to go?
Trump thrives on uncertainty, treating it as the foundational principle of his administration—a fortunate outcome, in his view, of the chaos he creates wherever he ventures. His supporters often boast about the supposed transparency of his government. Recently, his press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, declared Trump to be “the most transparent and accessible President in history.” However, “volubility” is not synonymous with “transparency.” The confusion that follows Trump’s every utterance is not merely an oddity; it is a defining trait that enhances his power, leaving individuals and markets hanging on his every convoluted statement. This isn’t a novel approach—Trump has been stirring controversy with this tactic since his political debut. At his first foreign policy speech, which I attended nine years ago this spring at the Mayflower Hotel in Washington, he proclaimed, “We have to be unpredictable.”
This time, however, Trump is moving at an astonishing speed. When CEOs have rightfully expressed frustration over their inability to operate in an environment where the President’s stance on imposing tariffs fluctuates daily—uncertainty about the size of the tariffs and their implementation dates—Trump’s reaction has been revealing. Recently, when asked by Fox News’ Maria Bartiromo to clarify his position, he replied, “You’ll have a lot. But we may go up with some tariffs. It depends. We may go up. I don’t think we’ll go down, but we may go up.” Bartiromo’s inquiry regarding business leaders’ concerns prompted him to add, “They have plenty of clarity. They just use that. It’s almost like a sound bite. They always say that—‘We want clarity.’” Thus, it was no surprise when the front page of the Wall Street Journal featured a story with the headline “CEO Frustrations with Trump Over Trade Mount—in Private.” Chevron’s CEO, Mike Wirth, was quoted saying, “Swinging from one extreme to another is not the right policy approach. We really need consistent and durable policy.”
Trump’s chronic lack of clarity has already provoked significant backlash. Over the past month, amidst the daily flood of contradictory information concerning the President’s trade war, the S. & P. 500 index has dropped more than ten percent from its record high in February, officially entering correction territory. A recent Reuters/Ipsos survey revealed that fifty-seven percent of Americans consider Trump’s economic policies too “erratic.” The federal government itself is enveloped in a state of confusion unprecedented in its history, spurred by Trump. On Thursday, a federal judge mandated the rehire of thousands of workers across six federal agencies impacted by purges initiated by Elon Musk and the so-called Department of Government Efficiency. The uncertainty about the number of affected employees is indicative of the larger issue at play.
In foreign policy, the turmoil Trump has generated within mere weeks is staggering from a geopolitical perspective. Take the exchange from Thursday after Trump’s Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, arrived in Canada for a G7 summit, awkwardly timed amidst Trump’s trade conflict with Ottawa and threats of annexation. Rubio posted on X what might have been considered routine diplomatic language in another administration: “I’m in Quebec for my first G7 meeting as Secretary of State. Under @POTUS’s leadership, we are going to use forums like the G7 to counter our adversaries and stand by our allies.” Edward Wong, a diplomatic correspondent for the Times, promptly responded with a question that implied a state of extreme disarray: “Who are the allies and who are the adversaries?”
No answer followed, but one could interpret Trump’s reiteration, less than an hour later, of his demand for Canada to become the fifty-first state as a response of sorts. (In a generous gesture, he clarified that Canadians could retain their national anthem.) Concerning the G-7, Trump has repeatedly asserted that the group should readmit Russia—an adversary whose invasion of Ukraine the other members and the United States, until recently, have invested hundreds of billions of dollars to combat. It’s no wonder I keep recalling a observation from a former senior Pentagon official regarding Trump’s alignment with Vladimir Putin, echoing the late whistle-blower Daniel Ellsberg’s reflection on the Vietnam War: “It wasn’t that we were on the wrong side. We were the wrong side.”
A few weeks ago, I attended a lunch at a Washington think tank where supporters of Ukraine mulled over whether Trump would genuinely abandon the country to Russia. This discussion took place shortly after Trump publicly blamed Ukraine for Russia’s invasion and just days before his now-notorious Oval Office encounter with Ukraine’s President, Volodymyr Zelensky, which led to Zelensky’s expulsion from the White House and a sudden, albeit temporary, halt to U.S. military and intelligence support for his nation.
Even so, many participants were clearly alarmed and disturbed by Trump’s apparent pursuit of actions he had long threatened, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. My host observed this shift too—afterward, he quoted a favorite line of his from poet William Carlos Williams about “the rare occurrence of the expected.” How fitting. More eloquent than “he told you so,” this phrase could serve as an epigraph for our current Trumpian era.
The desire to believe otherwise is a disheartening facet of human nature that a cynic like Trump has mastered. Hope may not constitute an effective strategy, yet it remains a default mindset. The President’s doublespeak, deliberate confusion, and ceaseless equivocation regarding the seriousness of his declarations not only serve to keep options open and maintain plausible deniability but also shield those seeking justification for his indefensible actions. I believe what feels notably drastic and different about Trump 2.0 is not the radical nature of his agenda but rather his swift movements to actualize it. Justifying his statements as mere empty bravado has become increasingly difficult. For the first time in more than eight years of his political dominance, America—and the globe—are coming to terms with the reality that Donald Trump might truly be serious. ♦
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