A month in London. I looked forward seeing family and friends, and the bookstores, and the affordable theater (in fact, most things are more affordable than in New York) and the easy interraciality of the place, and the low-slung Georgian and Victorian rows—and always, the efflorescent green. I also anticipated seeing America—and Trump—from a distance.
It has not disappointed in any of those aspects, though I wish it were warmer. I’m looking forward to a steamy, All-American summer, our 250th as a nation—and I’ll have more to say about that amazing legacy in the weeks to come.
For now, though, I look at America and see…uncertainty, a quality I’ve never associated with our beloved homeland. I have never been a pessimist about America, and I’m not now, but optimism requires some work these days. At the heart of this are two unAmerican discrepancies—the tolerance of the Democratic Party for foolish reactionary leftists and—far more grave—the disastrous impact that Donald Trump has had on our national honor and confidence. The Democrats have suffered in the past for their tolerance of lefties, but we have never seen anything like Trump before.
He has been at the heart of the American experience for a decade now. He was pretty much the same obnoxious tyrant throughout, but now—from a distance—he is different. He seems weak, uncertain, defeated perhaps—defeated by the thuddingly patient Iranians, defeated by inflation, defeated by his senescence, defeated by his vicious, over-amped attacks on illegal immigrants, defeated by the judiciary on an almost-daily basis, defeated by his egomania and crassness, the foolish monuments he wants to erect to himself. There will be a new White House ballroom, I suspect—though not the banal monstrosity he intends. The Arc de Trump will, one hopes, not be built, or torn down, or reconfigured—An Arch Celebrating the American Immigrant, perhaps.
The man has ravaged the American spirit, made it an ugly and vengeful place, appealed to the worst in us. . . and the worst in us has flourished, far too easily—a development we will have to consider very carefully in the years to come. America always was a balance between great good and persistent, minor chords of evil. Trump has tipped the balance away from tolerance, kindness, true diversity (not the racialist construct, but the fragrant American stew). I believe we will snap back, but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.
He has had his way—and his way is dark and dismal. He tried to rip apart the federal government, but DOGE only left rubble, not the needed streamlining. Our departure from international humanitarian efforts is scandalous and cruel. Trump’s efforts to eliminate DEI and racial preferences were overdue, but a bit too gleeful and crude. They have left a bitter and gratuitous aftertaste, especially in the military, where integration had triumphed in a way that it hadn’t in any other sector of American life (except, perhaps, the network news). Pete Hegseth, whose brain seems to have been poisoned by all that hair-gel, has been a despicable Secretary of Defense, not least for his attempts to expunge the contributions of blacks—I mean, Colin Powell!—women and other non-white patriots who served us nobly.
Worse, and it’s easier to see from London, he has weakened our spiritual standing in the world. We were never quite the moral paragons we supposed, especially not in the past 70 years, when half-baked altruism and commercial exploitation have been our methods. The Chinese, with their more subtle and clever form of economic colonialism have eaten our lunch in too much of the world, including the next locales for growth and hope, in Africa and South America. It is only Trump’s blindness to the industries of the future that limits our possibilities—solar and wind energy, electric cars (you’re beginning to see some impressive Chinese models in the streets of London these days), AI (except as it might profit his family and friends), and—with the mortal idiot Robert Kennedy Jr. in charge—medical innovation. He has made us more scared of the future than Americans normally are. His overpowering need for revenge is, by definition, all about the past. His vision of the future only seems to encompass gilded images of himself.
Trump has been careless and foolish; he seems to enjoy his own ignorance. He has dissed our allies, who fought bravely—and gave their lives—in our defense in Afghanistan. He has even debilitated the allies he sought to favor, like Israel, allowing Netanyahu to ravage the moral and spiritual status of that necessary nation. He has pursued a puling obeisance toward Vladimir Putin. He has prevented what should have been a grand, inspirational Ukrainian victory for freedom (one feels that more acutely on this side of the pond). It is no small irony that the Ukrainians have shown us the creative future of warfare; we used to be the ones who did that.
He has been enabled in this by Democrats, who continue to pursue the foolish cultural policies that turned America toward Trump in the first place. And now, in their blindness, Democrats are tolerating thugs like Graham Platner, and a bevy of incomplete, entitled dilettantes like Zohran Mamdani. Sadly, from a distance, moderate Democrats, my home team, seem without shape or form at a moment when the most basic American identity—classic liberalism: free enterprise, free speech, the rule of law—is very much for the taking.
It is curious now to gaze back, across the water, to what used to be the land where the future happened. Actually, well—that’s a rhetorical temptation indulged (mea culpa), but not quite fair. American creativity still outstrips the world; the Chinese remain, as the Japanese used to be, slip-streamers floating toward prosperity on the wings of American ingenuity.
I don’t fear for American ingenuity; it’s in the blood. I fear for American self-absorption. Our population is collapsing. Why is that? Our men are hiding themselves in basements, staring at screens. Why is that? AI will destroy jobs—just as the Luddites thought the assembly line would—but the job market seems stubbornly resilient. Why is that? There is a plague of competing theories out there. Our opinions about everything have outstripped our knowledge. I have spent my life in a business that is the epitome of solipsism, the news business. It seems wretched from a distance now. On some days, one sees as much news about Bari Weiss as one does about Donald Trump. Her crimes are assumed more than described. There is a notion that by stopping the tilt toward cultural leftism, she has committed a crime rather than a necessary reform. Again, I refer her critics to the breadth and sophistication of her invention, The Free Press. It has established itself as a fresh voice, a necessary daily read. Any other judgments on Weiss are premature, but they are non-stop, relentless in their assumptions, comprehensive in their lack of information. That is how America seems from a distance this June morning: opinionated but scared.
And yet, I look forward to coming home. Why is that?
The freedom, folks. The ineffable freedom.
And now commences the month-long American Freedom sale for new subscribers to Sanity Clause:
Oh my God, is this true? He seems weak, uncertain, defeated perhaps—defeated by the thuddingly patient Iranians, defeated by inflation, defeated by his senescence, defeated by his vicious, over-amped attacks on illegal immigrants, defeated by the judiciary on an almost-daily basis, defeated by his egomania and crassness, the foolish monuments he wants to erect to himself.
Thank God, just found out, none of it is true. It turns out to be from a person who wants it to be true.
Great piece. Housing is definitely more expensive in London 🤠