Trump's Netflix Strategy (Part II): The Reality TV Presidency

During the quiet of the holidays, as I watched the cascade of headlines – Trudeau’s  contentious Mar-a-Lago summit, Elon's budget shenanigans, and Trump's renewed interest in annexing Greenland (and Canada) – I realized that Trump's campaign never ended. From the moment he was declared winner of the 2024 election, Trump aggressively sought to do what he's always done: dominate the space, and control the narrative.

It's the same strategy that got him elected – twice. And he hasn't stopped. If anything, he took things up a notch.

There's no question it works. But its success reveals something profound about our political moment.

The Legitimacy of Discontent

The anger and frustration Americans feel today is real.

Our healthcare system is bankrupting families. Housing costs have put home ownership out of reach for many Americans. In many urban areas, even rent is unaffordable. Higher education, once a pathway to opportunity and upward mobility, has become a source of crushing debt. Income inequality has reached unprecedented levels, and public discontent is threatening to tear apart the very fabric of our social contract.

These aren't just talking points or campaign fodder – these are real issues that demand substantive change. The millions of Americans who voted for Trump – twice – didn't vote for spectacle. They don't want a show. They want change.

Yet what we're getting is a masterclass in political theater, one that reveals deep truths about the relationship between power and spectacle in modern America.

The Spectacle of Power

The movie Gladiator offers profound insight into this dynamic – it’s my favorite movie of all time. Beyond its spectacular cinematography and well-crafted plot lines, the film illuminates the perils of populism and the seductive power of performance.

In one of the film's most incisive moments, Senator Gracchus offers a cynical assessment of Emperor Commodus’s rule:

“I think he knows what Rome is. Rome is the mob. Conjure magic for them, and they will be distracted. Take away their freedom, and still they’ll roar. The beating heart of Rome is not the marble of the senate; it’s the sand of the Colosseum. He will bring them death, and they will love him for it.”

This insight – that power often flows not from effective governance but from the ability to command attention – isn’t ancient history. It's a game plan for American politics in the social media age.

Like Commodus, Trump knows how to command a crowd. He understands that feelings — fear, pride, anger, hope — matter more than facts. And his perceived authenticity — the unpolished delivery, the stream-of-consciousness rhetoric that would have doomed any traditional politician --- is an asset to Trump --- a powerful tool of connection.

But the spectacle and authenticity aren’t part of a calculated strategy — he's not wired that way. For Trump, it's pure instinct. Intuition. And as long as the crowd is captivated, as long as they are entertained, Trump instinctively knows he has the freedom and the power to act as he pleases.

The Evolution of Performance

Trump's trajectory from real estate developer to the pinnacle of political power hinges on a sophisticated understanding of how to control the narrative. His early career was marked by modest successes and notable failures. Yet, even through the turmoil of multiple bankruptcies and failed business ventures, Trump's primary obsession was cultivating his public image.

The Apprentice marked a crucial turning point — not just in how he is viewed by the public, but in his grasp of how he could shape our perception of reality by carefully curating his public persona.

It was a match made in reality TV heaven --- NBC was hungry for ratings, and Trump was desperate to reinvent himself as the shrewd, no-nonsense businessman he’d always aspired to be. For millions of viewers, The Apprentice was more than entertainment --- it was reality. A carefully crafted reality packaged for maximum impact.

Over 15 seasons, the show rehabilitated Trump’s public image to the point that people believed he actually was who he always wanted to be: a successful real estate tycoon who represented the pinnacle of the American Dream. Even Trump believed it. Through the magic of Reality TV, the line between performance and reality had blurred so completely that fact became indistinguishable from fiction – not just for the audience, but for the star himself.

Through it all, Trump learned one essential lesson: controlling the narrative is the key to his success.

This lesson was reinforced in his first term. Trump tried to govern like a "normal" president. He appointed well-respected, more traditional cabinet members and did his best to "play by the rules." But his tenure was a roller-coaster ride --- a constant barrage of tweets, sudden staff firings, policy reversals via social media, impromptu press conferences on the White House lawn, and public feuds with everyone from foreign leaders to celebrities. It became clear that traditional governance just doesn't mesh with Trump's way of doing things. The result was a level of chaos unprecedented in modern American politics. When the pandemic hit, the wheels came off completely. He lost control of the narrative, and in 2020, he lost the presidency.

As he assembles his second-term cabinet, it's clear there will be no experiments with establishment figures or traditional governance. His selection of folks like Pete Hegseth, Dr. Oz, and RFK Jr. reveals a stark new reality: for Trump, media savvy is more important than policy expertise, and performative outrage outweighs actual experience.

Consider the evidence: Among the nominees he's revealed so far, five are former television personalities.

Five.

But the true qualification isn't their star power or telegenic looks – it’s loyalty. Unlike first-term cabinet members like Jim Mattis and Mike Pompeo who occasionally pushed back, Trump's new choices offer something far more valuable: absolute, unwavering loyalty that ensures they will stick to the script and perform on cue.

It’s Not Just Trump

The transformation of politics into theater goes beyond Trump. Elon Musk's market-moving Twitter pronouncements and his foray into Congressional budget battles exemplify the same principle: in our current moment, the ability to command attention is more important than the ability to govern effectively.

The roots of this phenomenon ultimately lie in our post-Cold War complacency. We've become comfortable. Lazy. With the specter of Nazi atrocities and Soviet totalitarianism now a faint memory, we've forgotten that democracy requires work – it hasn't faced a true existential threat since the early 1990s. The fabric of our democracy has become stretched and brittle due to misuse and neglect.

The result is a disengaged citizenry of low-information voters, increasingly entranced by political showmanship – prioritizing entertainment over involvement, mistaking spectacle for substance.

This is how democracy dies.

The Stakes of Spectatorship

It's not meant to be easy. Democracy's burdens – like its benefits – demand our participation, attention, and commitment across all of society. The health of our republic depends not on the performance of individual leaders but on all of us showing up, staying informed, and doing the work.

But we live in an era where extremists and would-be demagogues on both ends of the political spectrum want us to believe that the failure lies in democracy itself — that our experiment in self-governance has given us nothing but crime, poverty, and endless threats to our way of life.

Their solution is as seductive as it is simple: handover absolute power and they'll fix everything that's broken --- we won't have to lift a finger. All we have to do is look the other way while they methodically dismantle the democratic guardrails that have, for nearly 250 years, held our darkest anti-democratic impulses at bay.

This reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of how democracy works: winning an election isn't a blank check. The winner doesn't get to do whatever he wants. He sometimes doesn't even get the cabinet that he wants.

Victory at the polls grants the winner the temporary right to govern. It's not a ticket to unlimited power. It's a mandate to serve within the bounds of our constitutional system, not a license to dismantle it.

The appeal of Trump's promises is undeniable. Like others before him, Trump sells certainty in an uncertain world. He offers assurances when people feel anxious about whether they can feed their family, or pay their medical bills. But democracy requires more from its citizens than blind faith in strongmen. It demands a level of healthy skepticism — not cynicism --- but skepticism, a clear-eyed vigilance that transcends party loyalty.

It doesn’t matter if you love him or hate him, whether you voted for him or not. We must hold every leader accountable, regardless of which side of the aisle they're on, making sure they follow the rules (laws) while working to deliver on their promises. And when they fall short — as they inevitably will — we use our most powerful tool to make our voices heard. We vote.

As this political spectacle continues to unfold, we have a choice. We can sit back and watch our government's ability to function crumble against the backdrop of political showmanship. Or we can step up as citizens and demand that our leaders prioritize meaningful legislation over performance, competence over theater, and the basic work of governing over personal ambitions.

The question before us is bigger than partisan politics: can our democracy survive in a political culture that increasingly resembles reality TV?

The answer lies not in passive resistance but in active citizenship – in our collective will to remain skeptical, do the work that democracy demands, and demand substance over spectacle, even when the show seems too good to turn off.