by Tom Shafer
February 9, 2017
Though the Trump presidency has finally come to an end, political pundits are still trying to figure out what made the man tick. His Twitter rants were legendary not only for their quantity, but also for their targets and the idiosyncratic nature of their subject matter. The randomness of his decision-making kept every advisor and cabinet member in fight-or-flight mode 24/7/365. His inexhaustible proclivity for lying challenged even the most ardent supporter, and his pathological narcissism produced questions about fitness to serve in any office, let alone the most significant one on the planet. Some observers have theorized that all of this was just part of Trump’s grand plan, his way to keep the opposition off balance and his allies, well, off balance as well. I have never believed any of this. There was no plan because Trump never wanted to be President in the first place. What follows is something I wrote just a few weeks into his first year, and as fun as it was to pull together, what amazes me is how prescient it still is today. I think my Trump theory is just as plausible as anyone’s. Enjoy!
Okay, so it’s become obvious that Donald Trump never really wanted to become President. Many pundits were floating that idea as he was making the now-famous, almost godlike descent down the golden Trump Tower escalator to announce his candidacy. He was going to make another run at it, lose in a hostile but purposeful manner, then launch a television network to rival his “friend” Oprah. He hoped to retain those Americans he had won along the way and join the likes of Rupert Murdoch and Ted Turner as men who have changed the television landscape. So imagine his surprise (you can actually see it on his face when he walked on stage after winning!) when electoral math named him President.
So what do you do when you get something you don’t want (what I call the Rolling Stones paradox)? If it’s Hickory Farms sausage, you re-gift it to your Uncle Earl (“Now that’s goo-o-o-d sausage – almost meat-like!”). If it’s an undersized sweater from Sears, you drive 125 miles to a Sears – only to see a foreclosure sign on the front door and 32 eighteen wheelers prepared to load stock. So, you donate it to Goodwill, and for tax purposes claim it as a $400 Louis Vuitton purple metallic cardigan with rhinestone buttons. If it’s the Presidency you get for a present, well, that’s a little harder to get rid of. Though almost 66,000,000 people would love you to give it back, another 63,000,000 really want you to keep it (“Trust us, it’ll look good on you!”).
So, you’ve got this Presidency you don’t want, and you have practically no training for it. But, you’ve already told everybody that your “IQ is one of the highest,” that you are “a very stable genius,” that you “know all of the best words,” that you “have one of the great memories of all time,” and that you’re “like a really smart person.” Not all is lost then because you’ve got all that working for you. It’s just the training that you need – and time is of the essence, so where do you go? It’s too late to take a class (The Presidency for Dummies 101 is a semester-long course) and you’re not all that fond of reading. Obviously, the only place to turn is the place you already know, television. You’ve been a TV star, and much of the information you used during the campaign came from television – Fox and Friends, Hannity, The O’Reilly Factor, How to Get Away with Murder – no, that’s Melania’s fav program. Anyway, there aren’t many shows that portray the President in a favorable way. House of Cards once starred Kevin Spacey, but his Frank Underwood character seemed pretty ruthless and immoral – which just won’t make for a believable presidency. And that Designated Survivor show touted the exploits of a Democratic President (played by that socialist-Canadian Keifer Sutherland) – that won’t work at all. Worst of all, most movies about the Presidency come from liberal Hollywood – and they certainly aren’t to be trusted.
You’re about ready to give up and declare that you were born in Kenya, thus creating a constitutional crisis, when an episode of The Office comes onto one of your Samsung 88″ Smart QLED Ultra HD televisions. As you watch, you start to feel better and even laugh a little. But halfway through the show, a light comes on in a little-used part of your brain, what you call the leadership lobe (which is just behind the pleasure center). You like Dwight Schrute and Creed, and Jim and Pam are cute together, but it’s Michael Scott who gets your attention. He’s the leader of Dunder-Mifflin Scranton, the best paper selling branch in the company, and you like winners. So, you convene your inner circle and submit your plan, that you want to binge-watch this multicultural (think Kelly, Stanley, and Oscar) documentary to study the leadership stylings of Michael Scott. You hear a couple of mutterings (“it’s really a mockumentary”), but you’ve made up your mind – and after all, you’re the decider-in-chief.
So, you go about your work. For three days and fifty-eight minutes straight, you view every episode of The Office, taking notes, eating cheeseburgers, observing Michael’s mannerisms and studying his managerial style. When it’s over (and after you’ve shed a few tears), you call a meeting of your most trusted allies and proclaim that not only are you ready to be President, you are going to be the greatest President of all time. And to display your readiness, you point dramatically to a veiled whiteboard and announce, “Under that sheet are five beliefs that I learned from that Office documentary, direct words from that genius Michael Scott – and they will become the commandments for my Presidency. They are so easy to understand, I don’t even need to explain them.”
As you pull the diamond patterned, 600-thread sheet from the board, you wait for the shock and awe.
And the rest is history.
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