When faced with foreign policy dilemmas, his tendency is to puff up his chest and feign toughness, not to keep his cool. For instance, rather than dismiss incendiary adversaries, Trump tries to outdo them: “North Korean Leader Kim Jong Un just stated that the ‘Nuclear Button is on his desk at all times.’ Will someone from his depleted and food starved regime please inform him that I too have a Nuclear Button, but it is much bigger & more powerful one than his, and my Button works!” In response to Iranian saber-rattling, the president tweeted, “If Iran wants to fight, that will be the official end of Iran. Never threaten the United States again!”
These outbursts might be cathartic in the moment, but they tend to aggravate the situation. Egging on unstable dictators risks a misunderstanding that can spiral into a crisis. At a minimum, the above examples led to prolonged public feuds that distracted from the issue at hand or delayed our ability to respond effectively to international events.
Aristotle once wrote that “he who exceeds in confidence when it comes to frightening things is reckless, and the reckless person is held to be both a boaster and a pretender to courage.” Trump is not brave, nor unswayed by the crowd, nor uncommanded by money and pleasure, nor stable through crises. He is a “pretender to courage,” and that should give everyone pause.
The President’s Temperance
Finally, we must judge Trump’s “temperance,” which is easier to do than the other virtues, for it is the most obvious. Cicero explains the characteristic as someone showing “restraint” and “modesty,” and “being seemly.” Said another way: “conducting oneself in an inoffensive manner.” Cicero adds that such a person is also not careless. “One must ensure, therefore, that the impulses obey reason… that we do nothing rashly or at random, without consideration or care.” He concludes that men of temperance handle criticism well and are not readily provoked.
It should be evident by now that Trump is one of the more offensive public figures in recent times. The president has difficulty showing restraint and lashes out without warning. His behavior is quintessentially unseemly, from crude rhetoric and vulgar jokes to immodest public reactions. There are far too many examples, so we will choose one category. Nowhere is this more apparent than in his attitude toward women. Many in the Trump administration are put off by his misogynistic behavior, which began well before the election.
How does Trump talk about women? Sex appeal. Beautiful piece of ass. Good shape. Bimbo. Great in bed. A little chubby. Not hot. Crazed. Psycho. Lonely. Fat. Fat ass. Stupid. Nasty woman. Dog. Ugly face. Dogface. Horseface. Disgusting. These are the types of comments he makes. Trump did not spare his opponent—the first female presidential nominee of a major US political party—of his sexism either. “If Hillary Clinton can’t satisfy her husband,” he tweeted in 2015, “what makes her think she can satisfy America?” At a campaign stop in Ohio the next year he remarked, “Does she look presidential, fellas? Give me a break.” I don’t care if you supported Hillary Clinton or not. There is no denying the smoldering sexism heaped onto these words.
At times, his sentiments border on what many women today would call predatory. Trump once purportedly made the following statement, referring to himself in the third person: “Love him or hate him, Donald Trump is a man who is certain about what he wants and sets out to get it, no holds barred. Women find his power almost as much of a turn-on as his money.” (Here again I can’t resist citing Margaret Thatcher, who dealt with men like this: “Power is like being a lady,” she remarked. “If you have to tell people you are, you aren’t.”) In 2013, Trump opined on the tens of thousands of unreported sexual assaults in the US military, tweeting: “What did these geniuses expect when they put men & women together?” And of course, he famously described to NBC’s Billy Bush his efforts to win over a married woman and how he approached seduction in general. “I don’t even wait,” he said. “And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab them by the pussy. You can do anything.”
As president, the inappropriate comments about women haven’t abated. I’ve sat and listened in uncomfortable silence as he talks about a woman’s appearance or performance. He comments on makeup. He makes jokes about weight. He critiques clothing. He questions the toughness of women in and around his orbit. He uses words like “sweetie” and “honey” to address accomplished professionals. This is precisely the way a boss shouldn’t act in the work environment. Trump’s commentary on specific women in his administration sometimes will happen right in front of them. After one such instance, an official came to me, exasperated, to commiserate. “He is a total misogynist,” she complained. “This is not a healthy workplace.”
I’m not trying to say women who work for Trump are victims who can’t handle themselves. Women have had to deal with creeps long before Donald Trump came into office. They don’t need “safe spaces” set up in the West Wing. Still, his displays of misogyny are unusual and unsettling to women who at times feel they are given different treatment than their male counterparts. When it’s about female leaders outside the administration—TV hosts or public figures—word gets around about the president’s offensive remarks and asides, and we bemoan in private another deep character flaw over which we have no control. Not even his family is off limits, although sharing his last name usually preserves them from the worst, though not the weirdest, comments.
Shifting public attitudes appear to have had little effect on his views toward sexual harassment. Indeed, Donald Trump is like the Fred Flintstone of the “Me Too” era. He’s been accused of sexual misconduct by roughly two dozen women, and his strategy is to shred their testaments to his inappropriate behavior. In an exchange between the president and a friend about inappropriate conduct, journalist Bob Woodward recounts Trump saying: “You’ve got to deny, deny, deny and push back on these women. If you admit to anything and any culpability, then you’re dead… You’ve got to be strong. You’ve got to be aggressive. You’ve got to push back hard. You’ve got to deny anything that’s said about you. Never admit.” Understood, Mr. President. This quote didn’t escape notice by the women on your staff.
Cicero says temperance demands forethought and doing nothing “at random.” Yet the president is notorious for his rash decision-making, as discussed throughout this book. Trump boasts of making tough calls based on his “gut instincts” in the moment, rather than good information and a clear strategy.
Then there are the distractions. It’s no exaggeration to say we have a commander in chief who is channel-surfing his way through the presidency. Meetings are constantly interrupted by TV. Conversations are sidetracked by commentary about TV. Early morning phone calls are made from the residence about what he saw on TV. He displays fury at what is not on TV, including lieutenants who avoid going on cable networks to defend him. Trump takes notice when they skip the Sunday shows or pre-scheduled appearances to avoid having to answer questions about his latest antics, and he holds it against them. The president, as has been amply documented, is obsessed with television, and segments he doesn’t like can derail entire workdays across the administration. It’s his gluttonous, vanity-pleasing digestion of TV coverage about himself that leads to the most embarrassing outbursts.
I recall one bright Tuesday morning, when the president was still in the residence. A Twitter alert popped up on my phone. Trump was venting about something he’d evidently seen on cable news. In that moment, he could have chosen to talk about the meeting he’d had the day before with the Brazilian president. Or the funerals that were taking place in New Zealand after a mass shooting by a white supremacist. Or the fact that it was his son’s birthday. Instead the president was going off on George Conway, the husband of his senior advisor Kellyanne Conway, whose critiques of the president were making minor news.