Hated and alone at 80
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Donald Trump turns 80 this week.
The number is remarkable because so much of his life has been devoted to denying the reality that every human being must eventually confront: time wins.
It always wins.
No amount of money can buy another year. No amount of power can stop the clock. No amount of cosmetic surgery, gold plating, self-promotion, propaganda, or flattery can alter the simple fact that every life is measured, finite, and judged.
Trump has spent his life constructing monuments to himself.
His buildings bear his name.
His airplanes bear his name.
His golf courses bear his name.
His steaks, his university, his casinos, his cryptocurrency schemes, his merchandise, and now even the White House itself have become extensions of the same project.
The project is Donald Trump.
Everything is about Donald Trump.
Everything must serve Donald Trump.
Everything must glorify Donald Trump.
The tragedy of his life is that after 80 years he has accumulated power without wisdom, wealth without dignity, fame without honor, and followers without friendship.
He is perhaps the most famous man in the world.
He may also be one of the loneliest.
Look around him.
Who’s there?
Not allies.
Not friends.
Not peers.
Not equals.
There are courtiers.
There are flatterers.
There are people seeking advantage.
There are people seeking protection.
There are people seeking proximity to power.
There are people who fear him.
There are people who use him.
But where are the genuine relationships that mark a life well-lived?
Where are the lifelong companions?
Where are the trusted confidants?
Where are the people capable of telling him the truth?
The answer is obvious: they’re absent.
The tyrant is always alone.
The narcissist is always isolated.
The man who demands loyalty from everyone eventually discovers that loyalty and love aren’t the same thing.
This is one of history’s oldest lessons.
The Roman emperors learned it.
The kings of Europe learned it.
Richard Nixon learned it.
Every ruler who confuses fear for affection eventually learns it.
The crowd disappears.
The applause ends.
The lights go dark.
The judgment remains.
As Trump approaches his 80th birthday, America approaches its 250th.
The contrast couldn’t be more profound.
One story is about a man.
The other is about an idea.
One story is about vanity.
The other is about liberty.
One story is about self.
The other is about sacrifice.
The American story began with extraordinary men who understood that they were participating in something larger than themselves.
George Washington surrendered power when he could have kept it.
John Adams accepted defeat when he could have challenged the legitimacy of an election.
Thomas Jefferson spoke of truths that transcended the ambitions of any individual.
The founders built institutions intended to outlive them.
Trump seeks to remake institutions so they serve him.
The founders sought immortality through principles.
Trump seeks immortality through branding.
The founders created a republic.
Trump dreams of a stage.
That stage is now being constructed on the grounds of the White House.
The People’s House has become a personal backdrop.
The South Lawn is becoming an arena.
The White House itself is being altered to accommodate a vision rooted not in history, stewardship, or preservation, but ego.
The symbolism matters.
It always matters.
The White House doesn’t belong to Donald Trump.
It belongs to the American people.
It belongs to every generation that has come before us, and every generation yet to come.
Franklin Roosevelt understood this when he described the White House not as a possession, but as a trust.
Its occupants are temporary.
The institution endures.
Donald Trump understands none of this.
The approaching July Fourth celebration should be a moment of national reflection.
It should be an opportunity to think about Lexington and Concord, Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Normandy, Selma, and all the places where Americans struggled, suffered, and sacrificed to enlarge the meaning of freedom.
Instead, America is preparing for a spectacle.
A birthday party atmosphere.
A celebration centered not on the nation, but on the man who believes the nation exists to celebrate him.
The irony is extraordinary.
At the very moment Trump seeks to place himself at the center of America’s 250th year, he appears smaller than ever. More isolated, aggrieved, obsessed and alone.
History is filled with powerful men who mistook attention for affection.
It’s filled with rulers who believed their names would outlast the institutions they damaged.
Most are remembered today not for their greatness, but for their arrogance.
The American experiment, however, has endured.
It has survived worse men than Donald Trump.
It has survived corruption, demagogues, traitors, cowards, and fools.
And it will survive Donald Trump.
Long after the ballroom is gone.
Long after the birthday celebrations are forgotten.
Long after the social media posts have vanished.
Long after the applause has faded.
America’s story will continue.
Donald Trump’s story will end as all stories end.
The high court of history will convene.
No lawyer will argue the case.
No spokesperson will spin the facts.
No propaganda machine will distort the record.
There will only be judgment and accountability.
There will only be the answer to a simple question: did this man enlarge the meaning of America, or diminish it?
I know the answer. Do you?
The biggest problem is not Trump himself. It’s the Project 2025 Republican Party, America’s oligarchs, and all of the Americans who support them. He’s been very useful for them.
Brilliant piece, Steve, we are grateful for your dedication to saving our country and your patriotism.