Is America having a Brexit moment?

Another AI image from Copilot

In my last post on the US election, I forecast victory for Donald Trump. That was just before Joe Biden stood down – which happened within hours. In a postscript I suggested that the economy and immigration would still swing the election for Mr Trump. So it proved, though as I watched Mr Trump melt down in the first months of Kamala Harris’s candidacy, I thought she might do it – even comfortably. But then Mr Trump’s campaign stabilised, and returned to consistently hammering the points that would swing voters, and he won comfortably. I thought Ms Harris fought a good campaign in the circumstances, but she had no answer on those two critical themes.

And so an earthquake has hit US politics. Mr Trump is much better organised than he was in 2016, and his personnel changes in the American state will be more sweeping. Meanwhile the complacency of the Democrats after beating him in 2020 has been badly exposed: there will surely be something of a clearout on their side. I don’t go along with the idea that this is the most consequential election of our times (which could be applied to 2016, 2020 or 2028 with equal merit) – but the changes will be drastic. To me it evokes nothing more than that what we experienced in Britain after the Brexit referendum in 2016.

Of course 2016 was when Mr Trump was first elected, and we thought that was a Brexit moment too. But his first administration descended into muddle and was reversed in 2020. The equivalent of the first phase of Brexit happened – the chaos after the referendum result as the country turned rudderless, but not the second – which started with Boris Johnson’s landslide election victory in December 2019. It is the equivalent of that second phase that is starting now in America. At first Mr Johnson’s election victory overawed everybody. His supporters projected their favoured outcomes onto the result, and there was much hubris, as his opponents retreated to lick their wounds.

The similarities between Mr Johnson and Mr Trump are striking. Both won by making a series of impossible promises and relying on humour and bluster to persuade voters to give them the benefit of the doubt. Both are personally quite transparent – what you see is what you get – giving a feeling of authenticity compared to other politicians. Both favour loyalty among their choices for political office over competence. They even both have brought in highly intelligent mavericks to spice up their administrations (Dominic Cummings in Britain, Elon Musk in America). It did not go well for Mr Johnson: his chaotic regime collapsed in not much over two years, getting himself replaced by an ideologue who destroyed what was left of his party’s reputation (Liz Truss) – a mess that his eventual successor, the lightweight Rishi Sunak could do nothing to reverse. It was the most spectacular reversal of political fortunes in British history. Will this history repeat? A chaotic regime which results in Mr Trump bowing out prematurely, followed by an even more disastrous lightweight ideologue (JD Vance)?

Maybe. But we need to think about the differences between the two situations. Firstly the two men. Mr Johnson is by far Mr Trump’s intellectual superior, but he had little organisational experience. He couldn’t run a whelk stall, in the British expression. Mr Trump is an experienced businessman, who certainly could run a whelk stall (“the best whelk stall in all the world”), even if his track record is nothing like as good as he says it is. He may not be particularly intelligent in the normally accepted (left-brained) sense, but he has drive, stamina, confidence and intuition that make him very effective in his own way. His management style is chaotic, but there is more method to his chaos than with Mr Johnson, and he is more adept at blaming others if anything goes wrong (Mr Johnson did this too, but without the same chutzpah). And America’s president is far more entrenched constitutionally than Britain’s prime minister, who is at the mercy of parliament. Mr Trump thrives on attention and status, which the job of US president delivers more than any other – it is hard to see him voluntarily letting go. This would take some sort of physical health issue – though this is a clear risk at his age.

But there are going to be problems. His administration will be peopled by chancers and mavericks, who will under-deliver. That happened last time, though in a different way to what is likely to happen this. In the short term I see this as doing little political damage to him though. There will be ethical issues galore – but (unlike for Mr Johnson) these have little capacity to damage him. Failure to deliver on practically anything doomed Mr Johnson and his successors (even Brexit had a big flaw in Northern Ireland); Mr Trump’s downfall is likely to be over-delivery. Mr Trump has made three major policy promises: the mass deportation of irregular immigrants; the raising of tariffs; and reducing taxes. Even partial delivery on these promises will make America worse off. They might have longer term economic benefits (though I’m a sceptic) but these will not come through in time.

It is very hard to see how Mr Trump’s deportation strategy will unfold – it is so unprecedented. But he has laid huge store on it. At a minimum it will create huge uncertainty in the country’s labour markets, and surely many labour shortages. He may try to releive the shortages by relaxing legal immigration, though this looks politically suicidal, but that won’t happen without massive disruption. This disruption will lead to inflation – with the highly sensitive area of food prices looking especially vulnerable. Inflation was the economic event that did most damage to Mr Biden’s reputation, and it will upset many of those that voted for him on the basis of his supposed economic competence.

Something similar will happen on tariffs. These are so obviously harmful that many of Mr Trump’s business backers assume that his policy is simply a negotiating tactic. Nothing, it seems, will dampen their wild optimism, reflected in a stock market rally. But tariffs are central to Mr Trump’s economic outlook. He appears to think that they will be costless to consumers, and raise revenue with which he can cut income taxes. Besides, it is surely hard to negotiate the kind of change to the terms in trade that he so wants. High tariffs will raise the prices of imported products and so inflation. This may not be as disastrous for America as it would be for some others, like Britain, who depend more on trade. But if prices are already going up because his migrant policy has disrupted labour markets, it doesn’t look good.

And then there are tax cuts. Many of Mr Trump’s business supporters set huge store on these, but there is a real problem with the country’s already-huge budget deficit. Adding to this deficit will be inflationary – one of the things that undid Mr Biden. His regime may want to balance this through drastic cuts to public spending (though not to defence), but there is not enough beureaucratics waste, wokery and foreign aid to deliver anything like enough – which would find him cutting into entitlements such as pensions (social security) and medical schemes. That won’t be an easy sell.

All three of Mr Trump’s main economic policy ideas point to inflation and administrative chaos. This will create stormy seas quite unlike his first administration. This is another difference from Brexit, which has proved to be a slow bleed rather than the big dislocation that some predicted. With his regime’s reputation for economic competence shattered there is liable to be a big backlash.

That should be an opportunity for the Democrats – just as Mr Johnson’s collapse was an opportunity for Labour in Britain. It is also possible that a different strand of populist radicalism emerges from the Republican side to take over. Meanwhile in the wider world, the retreat of America from its leadership position will force others to step up. There will be too much collateral damage for this to be a nice thing to watch – but it will be fascinating if you can see beyond that.

Coverage of America’s unpredictable election displays the usual bias

I asked Copilot for a picture of a squabbling crowd in America and this is the result. I suspect political guardrails prevent them including the US flag…

One of my rules here is that I don’t like to comment on elections before they happen. Most news reporting on elections happens before the results are known, because, I suppose, it is more newsworthy. And that’s fair enough if your audience are voters in that election – they have a decision to make. But for others the most important thing about an election is its outcome, the point at which most newsmen seem to drift away, for foreign elections anyway. But the coverage of the United States’ general election tomorrow has become a massive thing in itself. And I want to comment on that before we know the outcome.

The first thing to say is that the coverage here in Britain is massive. My main source of daily news is the BBC, and they are throwing huge resources at it. Alas they often don’t have much new to report. It is quite interesting to see in pictures, or hear real voices, to illustrate what I have read about in more substantial reporting in The Economist and elsewhere – but it has become repetitive. This is typical of the BBC’s “headless chicken” editorial policy. They let their agenda be set by other news outlets (as they see themselves as reporters of the news, not makers of it), set a time budget and fill it even if they have nothing to say – meanwhile suppressing coverage all sorts of important news in areas they consider less newsworthy. Things are not quite as bad as they are when there is a death in the Royal Family, but I’m getting some of the same feeling.

For somebody like me, endless repetition of messages by the BBC and others makes we want to challenge them. These include: this is a very close election; it will be decided in the seven swing states; it is the most consequential election in a generation (or more); American politics is toxic and dysfunctional (to be fair the BBC does not push such an opinionated view – though it is very widely held). All of these contentions have plenty of evidential support, but none of them should be regarded as established facts, as most coverage seems to imply.

Is the election close? Yes, all the respectable polling says so, and the campaigns are acting that way. But accurate polling is very hard to do. In the last two elections Donald Trump’s support was significantly underestimated. There are many unique characteristics about this election, and that is going to make it just as hard to predict: learning from past mistakes can simply lead you to new ones. You can make a case that there will be a comfortable Trump win (a repeat of previous polling error, resulting from a broadening of his appeal across ethnic groups, etc.) or a comfortable Harris one (more motivation from outraged female voters, etc.). We don’t know.

Will it be decided in the seven swing states, or perhaps just the biggest of them, Pennsylvania? A recent poll showing Kamala Harris ahead in Iowa (due to predicted high turnout among women voters) raised eyebrows as this is a regarded as safe for Trump, and may well be one of those polling outliers. But it is entirely possible that the intensive attention both campaigns have been paying to Pennsylvania make this an atypical state, and the winner there loses the overall election. Meanwhile it is possible that one of the parties will flip one or more states outside one of those seven and this could prove decisive.

This is the most consequential election in a generation? That is what both campaigns are saying, and it is what a lot of others were saying too. But it’s what they always say – and especially last time. A Harris win is not going to stop the backlash against “elites” from middle America, even if it means the end of the road from Mr Trump himself. She will not put into action the sort of radical programme that Joe Biden did – as she has not prepared a long for the job as he had, and she will be more constrained politically – she is likely to face a Republican-controlled Senate. And as for Trump, he may in some ways be much better prepared for power than he was in 2016, with many more loyalists ready for the call to assist his administration – but he himself is more erratic and even less focused – and as narcissistic as ever. We could well get a chaotic regime that achieves little and quickly becomes constrained by its unpopularity. Yes, the election will be highly consequential – but so was the last one, and the one before – and well you make the case for earlier elections too.

American politics is toxic and dysfunctional. Actually the first of those is pretty much incontestable – toxicity is a Trump and Republican strategy to help motivate their voters. Ms Harris is trying to break with that, which is welcome, but not necessarily a winning strategy. But dysfunctional? There is dysfunction – most notably with the failure of bi-partisan border legislation purely to make a political point. But The Economist Lexington column makes a good case that democracy is actually in quite good shape. The candidates are moving to the middle ground; party support is breaking out of its ethnic silos. And in today’s Financial Times Rana Faroohar points out that there is dysfunction in wider American society, with too much inequality and with governing elites obsessing about the wrong things. But there is widespread recognition of this wider dysfunction in American society, and perhaps the raucous debate, and highly contested nature of its politics will start to produce the sorts of changes it needs for renewal – and has a far better chance of doing so than if a more stable and controlled politics prevailed.

Humans are far from the rational creatures that many like to think they are. Our predictions for the future are too heavily influenced by our experience of the past. We think that our battles of the moment dwarf those of the past and future in their importance. Both biases are running rampant in the news coverage of this US election.

The American economy’s success is driving the toxicity of its politics

Credit MS Copilot

“Don’t bet against the American economy,” says The Economist in a recent special report. I understand where that sentiment is coming from. Over the years I have read many prophesies of doom, or at least of decline, for that economy, and often found them persuasive. On each occasion they have proved false. Two thoughts have struck me from this report: first that America’s success can’t be replicated by Europe, and that Europeans shouldn’t try; and second that America’s economic success, paradoxically, lies at the heart of its toxic politics. It is that last paradox which might cause the American success to unravel, as, to be fair, the report acknowledges.

My first insight flows from the principle of comparative advantage – a core economic insight originally articulated by David Riccardo in the 18th/19th Century. It is part of Economics 101, and is the critical idea about what drives international trade, and why such trade is mutually beneficial even if one economy imports stuff that it could make more efficiently for itself. It’s all about opportunity costs, as more modern language than Riccardo’s would have it. At a strategic level the theory of comparative advantage has massive predictive power – explaining so much of the world economy as we see it, including, for example, why exchange rates don’t match purchasing power parity. But as you try to get into more detailed, and tactically useful, predictions, economists have been unable to turn it into anything more precise, in spite of one or two attempts. Therefore it is left out the economic models that drive so much of the work of economists, and it does not progress beyond Economics 101. That is why so many economists, not least writers at The Economist, often forget that it is there and seem ignorant of how it actually plays out. So far as I can see, the great (and late) economist Paul Samuelson is one of the very few economists of modern times to properly have internalised its implications. He it was who pointed out that as undeveloped economies converged with advanced ones, the gains from trade between them would diminish, at the expense of the advanced economies. This does much to explain the relative economic stagnation of advanced economies since the financial crash of 2007-09, compared with the era of rampant globalisation before it (which happened after Samuelson died, having forecast it) – though there are other factors, not least demographics. And yet this is never mentioned amid the wringing of hands about the backlash against global trade, which is generally blamed on politics alone. And yet the invisible hand is so often behind the politics.

I have a another insight arising from Riccardo’s thesis. America’s recent success compared to Europe, as The Economist‘s report points out, is based on high-tech industries, where productivity has soared, while it has plodded elsewhere. This success is surely based on the scale of America’s market, and the relatively lack of legal and cultural barriers to trade and the movement of labour. This is clearly a source of comparative advantage over Europe – though not to China, which has a very similar advantage. This means that the relative productivity of the tech sector compared to others (making aircraft, for example) is always going to be greater in America than in Europe, apart from a few specialist niches. That will drive America to specialise in hi-tech industry, while Europe’s direct competitors will diminish – to the benefit of both, as an Economics 101 student can readily explain. If this the way of the invisible hand, then why does The Economist (and such luminaries as Mario Draghi the EU éminence grise with an economics training) spend so much time bemoaning Europe’s lagging hi-tech industry and urging it to to try harder? Economically literate politicians, like Mr Draghi, often do this sort of thing because it is a convenient argument for policies that are actually about economic efficiency in general . Journalists in more sophisticated publications have no such excuse. Europe is never going to match America, or China for that matter, in some areas and it will be a waste of effort trying. Meanwhile they are doing well enough exporting the many products where they do have comparative advantage – Europe does not operate with a large trade deficit, after all. Of course European leaders must keep trying to improve economic efficiency, and perhaps watching America will act as a spur, but a clearer understanding of the workings of comparative advantage would mean better-directed public investment.

Back to America. The Economist does not fail to attribute some of America’s success to an entrepreneurial zeitgeist – but it points to more solid factors too. First is that it has comparative advantage in industries that happen to be highly productive – not just in hi-tech, but also oil and gas. The former advantage stems from the size and flexibility of America’s product and labour markets – something that only China matches (India seems to be closer to Europe in this respect); the latter from a geological endowment. That’s all very well, but it creates tensions. The successful industries take off, but the corollary is that many others are left behind – and through the laws of comparative advantage – become less internationally competitive (as the dollar strengthens, and as they have to pay workers more to compete with the more productive sectors). This creates what Donald Trump calls “American carnage” – the flip side to economic flexibility, as factories close and more productive workers flee to the booming parts of the country. How much the imbalance between globally successful industries and the mainstream is driving high inequality is an interesting question. The Economist suggests that the poorest quintile has seen significant income growth in recent years with tighter labour markets – but in the middle of the income distribution there may be more stagnation – as the higher income groups continue to do fabulously. But if things happen quickly in America, the human cost is going to be high. Rapid growth breeds “carnage”.

A further source of advantage, according to The Economist, is access to large numbers of immigrants, and not least those flooding across the southern border. This seems to act as a lubricant: jobs get filled more quickly in the growing parts of the economy. Europe has immigrants too (though not China) but finds these harder to integrate. And yet this is a central driver to the country’s toxic politics.

And so the rapid change to the structure of the US economy, and the flood of immigrants that its success attracts, are driving a sense of dislocation among Americans, which in turn is driving the highly destructive direction of US politics. This is placing all its critical institutions under threat. Four dangers lurk in particular: the capture of US institutions by a big business elite (“rent-seeking” in economic jargon); rolling back international trade through tariffs and other measures; clamping down on immigration; and finally macroeconomic instability arising from public finances going out of control.

The concentration of big business, leading to capture of the political system and the corruption of institutions to protect established business from competition (often in the name of social stability), is a familiar process. We see variations of it in many places (although sometimes, as in Russia and Hungary, the relationship between political leader and business elite is more complex) – and , indeed, it is alleged to have happened in America in the late 19th Century. The concentration is happening in America now, as is the business elite’s dabbling in politics (most egregiously by Elon Musk) – but The Economist does not think it is leading to significant anti-competitive practices. Competition between the major hi-tech companies remains intense and the pace of innovative product development is hardly slowing. We might raise eyebrows about the way money buys influence in the US, but it does not appear to be a big threat to the US economy.

The backlash against foreign trade is a more substantive concern and especially the advocacy of tariffs. This seems to be mainly driven by Donald Trump – and as such it is one of his most distinctive contributions to economic policy – but the Democrats are copying him. It is hard to see how such policies will do much to help the American public – their main effect will be to raise costs. However it may not do much damage to the main drivers of US economic health: the technology giants and the oil and gas industries. It is not good news for the rest of the world, however, especially Europe.

Anti-immigration will also probably not hurt as much as it could – unless Mr Trump is actually tries to fulfil his campaign rhetoric about mass deportation. The Economist is also quite sanguine about the impact of public budget deficits, which few politicians seem to be taking seriously. There remains little threat to the US Dollar as the world’s preeminent currency, and hence the ease with which dollar finance can be obtained.

Still, there does seem to be an unhealthy cycle here. Growth in the American economy remains robust, but it is driving US society apart. Politicians and commentators alike focus on the choices at the next election, always described as the most important in modern times. But neither side is able to deliver a killer blow to the other. If Mr Trump wins next week’s election, his movement will have to find ways to survive his departure, amid the inevitable chaos of his administration. If Kamala Harris wins it is hard to see that she can convince Trump supporters that she is taking America along the right course, continuing to fuel the destructive radicalism of the right. One way or another this political toxicity will surely affect the astonishing robustness and resilience of the US economy that is one of its main drivers.

Time to get used to the idea of Trump’s return

Picture: Scottsdale Mint

Back in 2021 it had seemed impossible for Donald Trump to return to the White House. Even in 2022 it seemed that his brand was diminished – as candidates he endorsed did badly in Congressional elections. But we should have known better. For the first time in his political career, the man looks unstoppable. We must now think what many of us liberals had thought unthinkable: he will be President again.

Pretty much everybody I know regards the prospect of a repeat Trump presidency with horror, including a handful of Americans. Some Britons do like Trump, but most treat him as a bit of a joke – a caricature of the worst American stereotypes, and transparently narcissistic. This country has had enough of un-serious politicians after the chaotic period of Boris Johnson’s ministry, and his successors’ indulgence in gesture politics. It is one reason that Sir Keir Starmer’s popularity ratings are now high – seriousness is his most demonstrable virtue. You don’t have to be a liberal here in order to dislike Trump.

But it is clearly different in America. The first way that Mr Trump has been able to make a comeback is that he has fired up a supporter base that has enabled him to take over the Republican Party. He has made short work of his rivals, and any Republican law-maker that doesn’t pay homage to him will have their careers quickly terminated. Mr Trump has been able to forge a special bond with this supporters. He plays on their sense of grievance, and the feeling that the political establishment despises them (which they often do…). This seems is intuitive – I have called him a right-brained genius – following the once-fashionable idea that people are a product of a rational left brain and an emotional and instinctive right one. The irony is that this idea was promoted by liberal types to suggest that Western culture was excessively left-brained and destroying the world – and that the world needed more right-brained thinking. Alas this analysis turned out to be too left-brained.

The interesting thing about Mr Trump’s genius is that other conservative politicians have been unable to replicate it. Ultimately they are too calculating and they can’t hide it, and that undermines their authenticity. That fate has befallen Florida Governor Ron De Santis, once billed as being more dangerous, because more rational. We will have to see how Mr Trump’s Vice Presidential pick JD Vance works out. He is clearly a calculating man, but he gets much closer to his boss’s rhetoric than Mr De Santis did – and his empathy with white working class Americans is authentic.

The second reason for Mr Trump’s comeback lies with the current President, Joe Biden. He did well to beat Mr Trump in 2020 – and he has been highly effective in office. Too effective, perhaps. A narrow victory in a campaign that was mainly about the fitness for office of his opponent was not a mandate for many of the radical measures that he brought forward. There were two particular problems. The first was that inflation got out of hand on his watch. Some of the blame may lie with the fiscal generosity of his predecessor, and some arose from international events – but Mr Biden threw in plenty of fiscal generosity of his own. Inflation is now back under control (apparently) but it has left deep scars in its wake, notably with interest rates still high, and petrol prices over 20% higher than in his first year of office. Mr Biden’s supporters like to paint a rosy picture of their man’s economic achievements – but no amount of aggregrate economic statistics can mitigate the pain that many American people have gone through. The second major problem is the chaotic scenes on the border. Now I haven’t been following that particular issue closely, and it is clearly being hyped up by the Republicans – but there does seem to have been a lack of focus by the Biden administration in its attempts to play a number of competing interests.

And then there was the question of Mr Biden’s lack of physical fitness for office. His disastrous debate performance with Mr trump only confirmed what many people had suspected. As I write, he has now thankfully bowed out – but only after an obstinate period of denial. His likely replacement candidate is the Vice President, Kamala Harris. She doesn’t get a very good press (though how justified that is I find hard to assess). My feeling is that she would do a better job than Biden of mobilising the Democrat base, especially younger voters, but will struggle with neutral voters. But the Democrats campaign has lost momentum, and will need to be completely reset.

I don’t think Mr Trump’s survival of the assassination attempt will make more than a marginal difference. It gave him some momentum at a useful time, which doubtless helped bring some donations in. But he and his party reverted to type so quickly afterwards that surely few voters will be swayed.

Mr Trump still has those two big points in his favour: the economy and the border. For some reason many American voters, even those who are otherwise sceptical of Mr Trump, think that he is a better bet for managing both issues than whoever the Democrats throw up. In the case of the economy, that’s a bit bizarre. He plans to raise prices for ordinary Americans by imposing tariffs, while reducing taxes for the better off by adding to the national debt. Reducing immigration, if he succeeds, may make things worse by raising inflation – though it could help lower-paid workers. Still, the idea that a businessman is well-placed to manage the economy a strong one in America. And if Mr Trump’s record as a businessman is a flawed one, years of starring in The Apprentice have clearly impressed many Americans.

And as for the threat Mr Trump poses to American institutions, many Americans clearly don’t think he will be that bad in practice – and perhaps those institutions have been corrupted anyway. The only criminal convictions that Mr Trump has so far suffered were from a distinctly dubious case legally, giving some substance to Mr Trump’s accusations of “lawfare” against him. Other cases may be stronger but the American judiciary has played along with his efforts to kick them into the long grass. Mr Trump has never made himself out to be a saint, even if he sometimes claims to be an instrument of God.

So what are the consequences for us Europeans if Mr Trump succeeds? The most serious is the war in Ukraine. Most European leaders want wear the Russians down, and force them to conclude the war on terms that they cannot paint as victory – and so weakening their threat. They hope that Mr Trump can be manoeuvred into supporting this – but they know it is unlikely. More likely is that he will force Ukraine into a ceasefire. Russia is then likely to regroup and rearm – although it is possible that the enormous cost of the war will start to rebound on Vladimir Putin’s regime. The European powers will have to reorganise their defences, and reduce their dependence on US weaponry.

Economically the main threat is Mr Trump’s proposed tariff regime – but the main economic damage is likely to be wrought on the Americans themselves, and then their neighbours in the Americas and Asia. But it is unlikely to help Europe’s struggling economies – hastening the awkward political choices that permanent low growth will entail.

A difficult four years beckon. It may not come to that, of course. The last month or so have already shown how fast politics can move. Mr Trump seems to have taken his recent successes as as justifying his continued focus on his base – rather than softening his image to appeal to uncommitted votes. If his opponents can succeed in making the threat of a Trump regime look less abstract – by focusing on concrete issues like abortion, rather abstract ones like “democracy” and “the rule of law”, and if their candidate looks properly presidential, more sceptical voters can be persuaded to vote him down. Perhaps, even, he will go too far and look start looking more dangerously deranged, even to some of his erstwhile supporters. We have been hoping for that for eight years, though, and nothing he does seems to faze his base.

Americans will do what Americans will do. We in Europe will just have to live with whatever they choose to do. That’s democracy, I’m afraid.

Postscript: 23 July

The news that Joe Biden was withdrawing broke while I was finishing the article. Anxious to publish, I edited it without changing the overall thrust. But the whole dynamic of the contest seems to have changed. Kamala Harris has launched her campaign built up real momentum – it looks as if she will be chosen without contest. The Trump campaign seems to have been wrong-footed. They have no shortage of attack lines on Ms Harris, whom they despise as much as her boss. But the main ones look weaker than the focus on mr Biden’s capacity, while the Democrats have some attack opportunities of their own: capacity issues can be turned back on Trump, and maybe they will even get a chance to attack some of Mr Trump’s policies – like his disastrous looking economic ideas. Alas Ms Harris’s early attack lines seem to focus on Mr Trump’s criminality and lack of moral fibre. That’s old news and won’t sway many, surely. Matt Goodwin, who had been predicting a Trump landslide, meanwhile rushed out an article suggesting that Ms Harris is an even more hopeless candidate than Mr Biden.

It will be a couple of weeks before we see if Ms Harris is making a serious impact on Mr Tump’s lead. American voters have a way of bringing me down to earth, so my wiser self is saying that the main thrust of my article still stands – even if my optimistic self thinks that the spring in the step that Ms Harris is showing must have some sort of positive effect.

Understanding the genius of Donald Trump

Everybody is talking about him. How the New Yorker is covering THAT mugshot

It’s unwise to bet against Donald Trump. Last autumn he hit a low point when candidates he backed performed badly in the US mid-term elections. But to see how effortlessly he is leaving his Republican rivals for the presidency in his wake leaves me gasping in a sort of admiration. He does this by breaking every piece of advice and common sense that crowds my feed on LinkedIn. Any person who seeks to be effective in politics, or management, needs to understand why Mr Trump is so effective at self-promotion – even as he is so ineffective at pretty much anything else.

As I was pondering this, I read an article on “The truth behind emotional intelligence”, by FT columnist Janan Ganesh. A lot of what clogs my LinkedIn feed is promotion of emotional intelligence. Mr Ganesh complains that people are muddling emotional intelligence with niceness. In fact many nice people have little understanding of the emotional dynamics of the situations they are in and are consequently ineffective – while many nasty people are extremely good at manipulation, which is founded on strong emotional intelligence. He uses as his example Shakespeare’s villain Iago in Othello.

I agree. I first encountered the idea of emotional intelligence on a residential management course in about the year 2000. It was profoundly influential for me. Our trainers were about promoting management effectiveness, not niceness. On the one hand I found the course very reassuring. I proved extremely good at understanding emotional dynamics at work. I was a good listener. As Mr Ganesh points out, emotional intelligence requires listening, and quiet people are usually better at it than the noisy ones who trumpet their emotional understanding. And I was, and I still am, a quiet person – often painfully so. But, and my trainer was clear about this, that quietness got in the way of my effectiveness as a manager. It held me back from being as assertive as I sometimes needed to be. This summed up my professional career very well. While my quietness somewhat typecast me as being very clever in an introverted, geekish way – a large part of my effectiveness actually derived from listening skills and ability to navigate the emotional chess of office politics. But on the other hand I lacked something big and important, and that held my career back. I flourished best when I worked among a small (ish) team of people who worked well together. After we were taken over by a large multi-national bank I quickly started to fade, and took voluntary redundancy.

But what has that got to do with Donald Trump? Well the first point is that Mr Trump is pretty much everything that I am not. That assertiveness that I lacked is overwhelming in him. He is not good at empathy. And yet Mr Trump succeeds like no other politician in forging an emotional connection with his supporters. A recent poll suggested that 71% said that what Mr Trump told them was likely to be true, compared to 63% for friends and family, and just 43% for religious leaders. That, presumably, is because Mr Trump understands what they think the truth is, and feeds it back to them. Those ratings would collapse if he got up and said that, for example, warnings about carbon emissions were well-founded and that all coal mining in the US should cease. But what gives Mr Trump that understanding? Clearly listening of some sort is happening. In the past I have called this right-brained genius – building on the idea that the left side of our brain is our rationale side, and the right our intuitive side. Advocates of this idea suggest that in the West we overdo left-brain thinking, and we should be more in touch with our right brains. But the right brain has its dark side – Mr Trump is very in touch with his.

But that explanation only takes you so far. His Republican rivals listen to the same people and pick up the same messages. Mr Trump builds on his understanding in his public presentation. This is rambling and incoherent (to an extent you would not appreciate if all you heard was edited sound bites), but delivered with a sly sense of humour. This comes over as authentic – no speechwriter could deliver the the same effect – and he makes his audience feel that they are insiders. All the attacks on him, he says, are attacks on you. The more he is attacked, the more his supporters like him. He uses his recent legal troubles to boost a collective sense of victimhood – most recently in his recent use of his Georgia mugshot. He is able to channel all his audience’s frustrations with the world. It is, once again, very right-brained. Even the best paid political consultants cannot coach their clients into achieving something similar – anyway he got there first, which adds to the authenticity. And the more outrageous he is, the more newsworthy – and the more people are talking about him and only him. Meanwhile others who entered politics to achieve serious things, and spend time trying to understand the world, are most unlikely to have the right head-space for that type of behaviour.

There is an evil to Mr Trump’s evil. It is entirely about self-promotion. Naturally he thinks that the world would be a much better place with him in charge, because nobody understands the world like he does. But he is fundamentally un-serious about government and his ego undermines any attempt to implement serious policy. In power he might do some good things, but overall it would be a major step back for the world.

Will he win the presidency? His campaign is better organised and more savvy than in 2016 when he first won. He is running rings around his Republican rivals, even those who are much more capable and qualified than he is. But his challenge will be to reach out to beyond those who worship him – to those who have a better grasp of his weaknesses. That will be hard but it isn’t hopeless. Many have little faith in the Democrats, and their likely candidate, President Biden, has weaknesses of his own. If Mr Trump wins his party’s nomination he will have momentum. His odds of success are better than they should be.

What is the message for the rest of us? Understanding of the emotional side of life is critical to success, whether or not you call it emotional intelligence. But those who possess it are often less effective in other ways, because listening is demanding work and can come at the cost of assertiveness. For some people intuitive emotional connection can substitute for this. But that brings its own dangers.

Trump is not a proper fascist; his coup might have succeeded if he was

Throughout his presidency, I have waited for the moment when Donald Trump overstepped the mark, causing him to alienate a large part of his support base. There were moments when I thought he had reached such a point, but I was proved wrong each time. But the events last week in Washington are surely that moment. His presidency is nearly over anyway, of course, but he is surely unlikely to come back from this.

Of course an astonishing number of Americans thought that the storming of Congress was justified, but the Republican coalition is still breaking up, and it is likely to reform without Mr Trump in control. You could tell Mr Trump was in trouble when he read out his statement disowning the protesters and conceding that he would hand over to the new administration. He normally doubles down; he does not do light-footed manoeuvre.

What happened? It was very clear from even before the election that Mr Trump would try to cling to power if he lost. His plan to do so amounted to a coup, but one that maintained some vestiges of legality. He thought he could mobilise Republican Congressmen and state administrators, and sympathetic judges to annul the state election results he didn’t like, and substitute more congenial ones. For the most part they did not cooperate (the Congressmen being a shameful exception), because Mr Trump could not provide them with any serious evidence to work with, and they had too much respect for the rule of law, or at any rate understood that the risks for them personally were far too high. His last chance was on Wednesday, when Congress was due to ratify the election results. He organised a march of his supporters on the Capitol. What was Mr Trump trying to do? Here it gets murky. His hope may have been to intimidate the law-makers into overturning the election results. He may simply have wanted a spectacular demonstration of the strength of feeling on his side to sustain the betrayal narrative, from which he could build his comeback. If you want to build a conspiracy theory you can easily find enough to work on. After he lost the election Mr Trump cleared out the senior appointees of the Defence department and put in complete loyalists. The Washington National Guard was under the control of the Defence department, but it had not been mobilised for trouble, as it had been for the Black Lives Matter protests.

But it looks as if there was no clear plan. Once the protesters got into the building they did not know what to do. This was the worst possible outcome for Mr Trump. The protesters engaged in vandalism and showed general disrespect for one of the United States’s most hallowed institutions without achieving anything more than a delay to proceedings. This was fine by those of Mr Trump’s base driven by a hate for those institutions and of revolutionary intent: the white supremacists, the QAnon conspiracy theorists and the wild fringe in general. But a large part of the Republican coalition prefers to see these people as a tiresome sideshow. For many conservative Americans, having somebody dressed in a bison outfit leading the way is not a good look. Funnily enough, if the protestors had been met by a robust police and National Guard presence, it would probably have worked much better for Mr Trump – they could blame failure on the “deep state”. The plan had not been thought through and it lapsed into farce, albeit a farce in which several people were killed.

That is very revealing. Many people claim that Donald Trump is a fascist. It is perfectly true that there are many common threads between Trumpism and fascism. The cult of personality, the demand for personal loyalty amongst officials, the disrespect for the rule of law and political convention. The tactics were fascistic too: the use of elections to gain a foothold, the cooption and then subordination of establishment conservatives, and the indulgence of mob violence from supporters. But there are big differences. Fascists concentrate power in a militarised state, subordinating all other civil and private organisations. They adore administrative competence (Mussolini wanted to make the trains run on time; Hitler built autobahns). They are also driven by a clear, if fantastical, vision of where they want to take their country. Donald Trump worked to dismantle the state, not build it up. He let private corporations run riot, including ones he did not like. He has very little regard for administrative competence. He was not a warmonger either – he tried to end foreign wars, not start them. His supporters were not organised into paramilitary formations that could drive through a violent coup. Some of his supporters were heavily armed, it is true, but there was something anarchistic about them; they viewed their weapons as an extension to their personal autonomy, rather than part of being a soldier for a cause. Once you take the narcissism away from Trumpism, there really is very little left.

Which is why the coup failed and Mr Trump has been humiliated. There were no storm troopers ready to enter the Capitol and neutralise opposing Congressmen. There were no leaders on the ground with a clear idea about what they needed to do.

Very soon Donald Trump will leave office. So much of his power, and self-esteem, derived from that office that it will be difficult for him to come back, especially after this fiasco. But his popular base is still there, angry at the turn of events and convinced that it is they who are the victims of a coup. The new administration faces many difficult choices. Joe Biden wants to be a figure of healing and reconciliation. But can he simply let the forces of darkness reorganise with impunity? Republican leaders face hard choices too. Their no-prisoners resistance to the Democrats has unleashed a tiger that is consuming them. Is it time to change tactics in order to capitalise on the fears that much of the American public has of left-wing radicalism?

And all the while the pandemic runs riot. What a moment to become President. But it will not do to underestimate Joe Biden.

Joe Biden: cometh the hour, cometh the man?

I greeted the defeat of Donald Trump in the US Presidential election with relief rather than joy. It was the most important thing to be decided in these elections: but otherwise it was a poor night for the Democrats. That bodes ill for the success of the new administration. But perhaps the new President, Joe Biden, will rise to the occasion.

The first Democratic disappointment was the failure to suppress Mr Trump’s vote more than it did. In fact “suppress” is not the word: Mr Trump’s vote was huge. Victory depended on a series of narrow wins in key states: very similar in character to Mr Trump’s victory in 2016. Based on polling evidence, most people had expected something more decisive. The next disappointment was the Democrats’ failure to secure the Senate. This game isn’t over yet: it will be decided by the double run-off section in early January in Georgia, but the Republicans are favourites. But the Democrats fell short in a whole series of contests where they were expected to do well, and that was the pattern of the night. The Democrats hung on to the their majority in the House in Representatives, but went backwards. They did not make breakthroughs at state level either: important because these elections will affect redistricting for the House. Down-ticket Republicans polled more than Mr Trump.

If the Democrats couldn’t win big this year, when can they? Looked at strategically it the Republicans are winning the battle to be the natural party of government, albeit by a narrow margin. This should worry Democrats a lot. They have long been expecting a demographic dividend, as America becomes less white, and as older, conservative voters die off. Instead Republicans are managing to recruit amongst ethnic minorities. I don’t know what data on younger voters is, but I suspect it follows educational attainment. Less well-educated Americans gravitate towards the Republicans, regardless of race and age, it seems.

This bodes ill for the Democrats in 2024, and of Kamala Harris’s chances in that election if Joe Biden steps down, as expected. There will be a lot of soul-searching. Some want to go down a left-wing populist route, stoking up anger over wealthy elites rigging the system to their advantage. Such a strategy has worked in Latin America (though whether it has done poor voters there any good is another question) – but I don’t think it has traction in America, not least amongst those of Latin American heritage, for whom socialism is often a toxic brand, based on the record of Latin American socialists.

Beyond that, Mr Biden is going to find it very hard to govern. He needs the Senate to unlock major spending initiatives, or legal reforms, for example to health care, or reforms to make it easier to elect Democrats. Nothing in these election results is going to discourage the dominant no-prisoners wing of the Republican Party, represented by the senate leader Mitch McConnell, as well as Mr Trump himself. Republicans will suddenly rediscover their fiscal conservatism and stoke up worries about public debt, conveniently forgotten when Republicans such as Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush or Donald Trump have been in charge. The new administration will be undermined at every turn. And on top of likely control of the Senate, they have stacked the Supreme Court with conservatives. Mr Biden’s appeals for Americans to unite to tackle the country’s problems are entirely futile. Further, Republicans are trying to undermine his legitimacy by saying the election was “stolen”. The extreme partisan nature of US politics will continue.

So what does Joe Biden need to do? The critical things are to revive the economy, get on top of the virus, and put pressure on the Republicans. The economy is critical. Until 2020 this was looking good for Mr Trump. The acid test isn’t the level of the stock market, so beloved of the President, but whether the economy is running hot enough to push up wages and well as create a plentiful supply of less skilled jobs. Mr Trump’s success there doubtless accounts for much of the strength of his support. How much he was actually responsible for this, and how much he was building on his predecessor, we will never know. The virus, of course, is the test Mr Biden has set himself. On both counts luck looks to be on the new President’s. side. The first of the vaccines is coming good, and other promising ones are behind it. This is already having a positive effect on confidence. This means that he is not as reliant as he might of been on Congress to provide funding for the states. The second piece of luck is that the Federal Reserve takes an expansive view of its role in keeping the economy going, and should not jack up interest rates at the first sign of success.

What do I mean by putting pressure on the Republicans? His life will be a lot easier if a small handful of Republican Senators break ranks. It will also be easier if Supreme Court justices also feel a bit of political pressure to appear non-partisan. This dos not mean indulging in the culture wars (on abortion and such matters), which tend to polarise politics and rally the Republican faithful. It does mean keeping the heat up on healthcare and support for “seniors” and veterans. The Republicans aren’t having it all their own way. MrTrump is not going to disappear; surely the party’s stalwarts are going to tire of bowing and scraping to their monarch. Mr Trump is also likely to face a blizzard of lawsuits – though this is unlikely to change public opinion much.

The interesting thing is that of all senior Democrats, Joe Biden seems to understand what needs to be done best. He has it in him to empathise with the average working class Trump supporter. His campaign was very skilful. He is going to need all of that skill in the years ahead. But he knows that. Cometh the hour, cometh the man?

September: the virus strikes back

I still have not yet recovered blogging groove, as I settle down in my new home, and with family caring issues taking priority. So I am doing a consolidated look-back on the last month’s news again. If last time the central theme was the rise of Great Power politics, this time the theme is the virus.

After the Spring crisis passed, more or less, in the developed world (not so much in the US), people relaxed in the summer (or winter depending on your hemisphere). But the virus is coming back, with the world both better prepared, but less psychologically and economically resilient. The stress is showing.

The virus’s most spectacular victim was the US President. This drama is still playing out. What has emerged is interesting, though. Donald Trump has made a great show of not allowing the virus to affect him, being rarely seen in a mask. But in fact huge efforts are made to screen anybody that comes near him, with extensive use of a quick-turnaround test. But such measures only work so far, and if enough people come into proximity, the test is bound to have miss a few. A reception for his nominee for the Supreme Court appears to have been too hubristic.

Once Mr Trump was infected his behaviour stands in complete contrast to our own Boris Johnson. Mr Johnson soldiered on valiantly, did what the doctors told him, and went to a public hospital only when he had to, with treatment recognisably similar to any member of the public. Such a passive approach was not for Mr Trump. He quickly ordered the most aggressive treatment possible, and checked himself into and then out of an elite hospital. He now claims to have conquered the virus in days. We shall see. This probably reflects cultural differences between our two countries as much as personality. Many Americans, and especially the rich and powerful, struggle with the idea that they can’t take full control of their treatment, as is often the case with the UK’s NHS. Private treatment is available here, but, quite often the best expertise is tied to the public service, and Britons don’t like public and private to mix. It is one reason why nationalising health care is unpopular in the US, even if less well-off Americans have little practical control.

But what effect will this have on the US election campaign? Democrats continue to have reason for quiet confidence. A month ago they seemed a bit rattled, as Mr Trump had forced the narrative onto his own agenda: law and order. But the Democrats’ candidate, Joe Biden, is a seasoned campaigner, backed up by a solid team. He held his nerve. The riots subsided and soon the news was dominated by the death of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and the unseemly haste to replace her before the election. Mr Biden refused the invitation to stoke up the culture war on abortion, but instead moved the narrative on to court challenges to President Obama’s health care system, which many working class Americans now depend on. This was followed by the first TV debate, dominated by Mr Trump’s hyper=aggressive behaviour. Mr Biden was not given the rope to hang himself with, and the focus became the personality of the President, which the Democrats are quite happy with. And now Mr Trump’s infection has put the virus centre stage. Mr Biden’s poll lead seems to be holding up, and perhaps even increasing. Most Americans have chosen who they will vote for, and not a few have voted already. Everything that is happening seems to reinforcing those choices, on both sides, and making each side more motivated. As in the mid-term Congressional elections in 2018, that is mainly working for the Democrats. Can they seize the Senate?

But the biggest question to me is what will happen after the election, with the country so bitterly divided. Mr Trump doesn’t seem to care. But if Mr Biden wins, he will have a big job on his hands. He does seem to be aware of this.

Here in Britain, the UK government’s reputation is floundering. There is something curious about this. After its initial fumblings, and the appalling early death rate that resulted, the country’s record bears comparison with many of its peers. The record of the US is worse, and so is that of France, since June. Also the records of England (directly under the control of the UK government) and Scotland (mainly under the control of the devolved SNP government) is pretty similar. But Mr Johnson’s Conservatives have suffered much worse damage to their reputation. Mr Johnson’s style is ill-suited to the occasion, and, worse, he has surrounded himself with weak ministers, while more competent people remain on the sidelines criticising his record. There is a lot to criticise, of course, especially with the government’s failure to understand effective process management (with vastly inappropriate and over-centralised structures), and the lack of a clear strategy, as different factions vie to be heard. But others are making the same or worse mistakes and getting away with it. Mr Johnson is failing at the sorts of things politicians are supposed to be good at, as well as the ones for which they have little expertise. Many of theConservatives that voted Mr Johnson into office last year seem surprised; but most others are not.

So far the big winner from the crisis appears to be China. Although they too fumbled the early stages, with dire consequences for the rest of the world, their brand of totalitarian government has stamped out the disease and kept the virus at bay. Meanwhile everybody else is struggling: as they ease restrictions to let life go on as it should, the virus comes back, and the exponential dynamics of infectious diseases stoke. Still, some countries seem better able to handle the challenge than others. But it is hard to generalise. Herd immunity can be bought only at a very high price, in direct and indirect deaths, and debilitating “long-covid”, and may not last long-term anyway. But containment comes at a very high price too. A vaccine seems the best hope.

What are Donald Trump’s chances in November?

Like many Britons who follow politics, I follow US politics enthusiastically. But I don’t like to comment so much on it here. I have no special connection to the US zeitgeist,and it seems to be a bit rude to comment on somebody else’s politics. But we can’t help but be affected by the US, so I feel I must comment from time to time. The big question is whether Donald Trump will be reelected as President this November.

At the start of the year Mr Trump’s position looked strong. The economy was doing well, he was delivering to his base, and all of his potential Democratic opponents had limitations and weaknesses. He easily saw off impeachment, successfully portraying it as a manifestation of partisan politics. Mr Trump’s divisive style never made him a shoo-in in this year’s election, but he was the betting favourite. But then things started to go wrong. The Democrats resolved their selection race with unexpected speed, in favour of Joe Biden, the candidate, apparently, that Mr Trump most feared. And then came the Coronavirus epidemic, which saw Mr Trump conspicuously flailing. This was followed by the Black Lives Matter explosion after the murder of George Floyd, and more presidential flailing. Mr Biden has a steady and growing poll lead both nationally and in the battleground states, a lead that is bigger and steadier than Hillary Clinton achieved at this stage in 2016. But we have over four months to go, and a lot can happen.

To win, what Mr Trump needs to do is to motivate his base, demotivate the Democrats’ base and win over independent voters. The first part of this is going well enough for him. Mr Trump’s base has two main components: his fanbase and anti-liberals. The fanbase consists of less well-educated white people, who have felt excluded by political elites for decades. Mr Trump speaks their language and expresses what they feel. They experience a sort of euphoria when Mr Trump expresses their values from the top of the political system; they are happy to disregard incompetence for the sheer joy of seeing one their own in charge. And with Mr Trump, unlike many other populists, what you see is what you get; there is no guile about him. This increases the bond of trust. The anti-liberals, on the other hand, are not admirers of Mr Trump personally, but they love him because because he is a bastion against the advance of liberal values. They are passionate about such things as stopping abortion and maintaining complete freedom over the ownership of firearms. They don’t believe in a strong Federal state, apart from having strong armed forces, so they aren’t bothered by Mr Trump’s evident incompetence. This group is diverse, but religious groups are prominent. They also include many business owners who dislike government regulation and taxes, and seek opportunities for cosy deals. For this group Mr Trump has delivered on his promises, most notably in the appointment of Supreme Court (and other) justices, but also with tax cuts for companies and the neutering of federal regulation; he has also held the line against gun law reform, in spite of a spate of mass shootings. For the anti-liberals the Democrats pose as great a threat as ever, and there is no sign that their enthusiasm for reelecting Donald Trump is fading. Doubtless Mr Trump’s partisan approach to the Covid crisis and the BLM uprising helps motivate this group too. They are on fire.

How about the Democrats’ base? Their main weakness is their candidate. He’s been around for a long time, and there is lot of grey in his record, not least around claims of sexual harassment. Before the BLM explosion there were signs that younger voters were becoming demotivated by all the questions being raised by his record. But Mr Trump clearly doesn’t get why people are so angry about the Floyd murder. To him this is just an isolated crime, and not evidence of a systemic failure. He doesn’t feel the pain of decades of being fobbed off with talk of progress. In fact his behaviour has given succour to the forces of darkness. He has thus become a channel for anger across the Democrats’ base, and has managed to fire them up.

And how about independents? This is a harder group for people on this side of the Atlantic to read. Mr Trump picked up many independents in 2016, because his campaign to undermine Mrs Clinton’s credibility was so successful, and her campaign to reassure them was so weak. Mr Trump fitted the American model of a successful and admirable businessman much better than the European one, so people there were prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, while most Europeans had written him off as a nutcase. It is probably this group that is gradually coming over to Mr Biden as Mr Trump showcases his incompetence. But they are doubtless wary of the Democrats too.

So what next? The campaign hasn’t really got started yet. We know that Mr Trump will try to make it about Mr Biden and not himself, by hammering on his weaknesses. He already refers to him as “Sleepy Joe”. But this is surely not as effective as “Crooked Hillary”‘; voters are tired of hyperactive and hyper partisan politics; “sleepy” doesn’t sound so bad. But there are plenty of cracks in Mr Biden’s candidacy, so the attack could work. A further issue is whether the need to keep his base fired up moves Mr Biden into tricky policy territory. The demand to “defund” the police may not be as bad as it sounds, but it sounds like an invitation to criminals.

A big question hangs over the future course of the epidemic. Mr Trump is playing on the idea that the threat was exaggerated and lockdown measures were overdone (by Democrat governors and mayors), and he is supporting the lifting of the lockdown, even though many think this is premature. This builds on the different experiences of the epidemic across America. It has been devastating in big, crowded cities, such as New York and New Orleans, but much less so in less densely populated places. By and large Republican voters’ experience has been much less severe than that of Democrats. So if the disease retreats even as the lockdown is removed, and the economy bounces back, the Republicans will claim vindication while the pain of many cities will be forgotten as they will vote Democrat anyway. And the administration’s financial management of the crisis has been perfectly competent, largely because Mr Trump has been happy to leave that to others, and not disrupt it.

On the other hand, the disease could boomerang, hitting Republican areas hard, and disrupting the economic recovery. This is particularly likely as Autumn approaches and the weather cools: i.e. just as America approaches the vote. This could create a perfect storm for the Republicans. Mr Trump’s plan to hold mass election rallies in defiance of social distancing and mask-wearing looks especially risky.

And that points to something that I think will be the deciding issue against Mr Trump. He has become very dependent on his own judgement. When he was first elected, it was expected by many that he would surround himself with competent people, and let them do most of the work. And that seemed to be what was happening, with the recruitment of many generals to his administration, and with Steve Bannon advising on political strategy. But Mr Trump hates to be managed and he has replaced almost everybody with more compliant people who will go along with his madnesses, with the interesting exceptions of the Treasury and the Federal Reserve. This has made Mr Trump much more likely to make mistakes. Mr Biden, on the other hand, while gaffe-prone, surely knows how to ask for and accept advice.

But four months is an eternity in this crazy year.

Donald Trump’s message to Iran: get nukes fast

US President Donald Trump doesn’t do quiet confidence. If he had, then he might have ended 2019 displaying it. Which makes his actions in Iran in early 2020 baffling.

As Autumn approached Mr Trump might have been worried about his reelection and his legacy. He came into office promising to show his vaunted business skills, in contrast to his inept predecessors. He was the arch deal maker, he claimed. And yet he had practically nothing to show for it. His attempts to negotiate with North Korea had run into the sand. His dramatic ripping up of the “worst deal ever” to limit Iran’s nuclear ambitions had not restrained that country’s foreign adventures, and seemed to be hastening the day when it would become nuclear. There were almost no trade deals: even the replacement for NAFTA was stuck in Congress. On other issues, his attempt to negotiate a fabulous new deal for Americans on healthcare had long since collapsed. It was painfully slow to find funding for his border wall. He had aggressively slapped tariffs on Chinese trade, but he seemed unable to close any kind of deal with China, while America’s trade deficit roared ahead. His one significant achievement in his term to date was corporate tax cuts, which probably left most Americans unimpressed.

It got worse. He allowed Turkey’s President Erdogan to talk him into winding down the American presence in Syria, abandoning his Kurdish ally. Whatever strategic sense this made, it was tactically inept. It angered many of his Republican allies.

But this blew over, and things started to look up. As the race to be his Democratic opponent in 2020 started to heat up, it became clear that each of the candidates had weaknesses that he could exploit. There is nobody he can be truly scared of. The House of Representatives also cracked after revelations on Mr Trump’s attempts to pressurise Ukraine, and set impeachment proceedings in motion. This largely works in Mr Trump’s favour; ordinary voters will not be able to fully understand his wrongdoing and its implications, especially after these are buried by the barrage of nonsense supplied by him and his many allies. The whole episode will just serve to distract attention from his weak record in office. Meanwhile he managed to close a deal with the Democrats in Congress for the NAFTA replacement, and some kind of interim deal with China looks close. The wall is being built. Even in the Middle East, Iran was under increasing pressure from its own people, and those fed up with its meddling in Iraq and Lebanon. Thin pickings, perhaps, and North Korea is going from bad to worse, but enough for Mr Trump to suggest things were going his way at last. His core support was holding up. If opinion polls still seemed against him, he might reflect that they were probably good enough: all he needs to do in November is hold the states that voted for him last time; he needs no majority in the popular vote. Enough for some quiet confidence.

But then came the Iran/Iraq episode. He firstly overreacted to a militia attack on a US base in Iraq, and then, after those Iranian-backed militias made a not-all-that-serious attack on the US embassy, he launched his assassination of Qasem Soleimani and his associates. This is a dramatic escalation, to which Iran has “no choice”, in the oft-repeated phrase, to respond. The Iranian government is playing the episode for all it is worth to distract attention from its other troubles.

What makes this very striking is that it goes against the general restraint Mr Trump has shown in the Middle East. He is much criticised for this, and has shown no tactical acumen, but he is not wrong in principle. Not, at any rate, in his wish to disengage the US military involvement, and treat Russian adventurism with a shrug. We need to get beyond the post-colonialist thinking that everything that happens in the region is somehow the result of US and western government actions, while denying multiple local actors agency and responsibility themselves. Mr Trump is, though, wrong in principle to think that ripping up the Iranian nuclear deal and applying sanctions to that country will make it more amenable, rather than making the whole region a lot messier. This is the logic of the bully, who assumes their own actions are principled and everybody else simply responds to the exercise of menace.

The defence put up by Mr Trump’s supporters are really hard to fathom. Soleimani was a bad man and his removal will make peace more likely, they say. Soleimani, and his like in the Iranian regime, are indeed bad people. They use innocent human lives as pawns in their games, and have no compunction in perpetrating murder. But he was also a senior state actor, and acting against him is like declaring war on the Iranian state. Assassination is a very dubious instrument of state policy. Israel has long used it, but its conflicts with neighbours and people within its borders have just dragged on regardless. The Iranians are no worse than the Russians, but would the US attack senior Russian officials in this way?

Which brings me to the central point. The US under Mr Trump treats nuclear armed powers with respect, even such mavericks as North Korea. Mr Trump seems to think that the rational response to his behaviour is to come to the negotiating table to make serious concessions. Iranian leaders are just as likely to think that the only rational course for them is to acquire nuclear weapons as fast as they can.

As I write the Iranian response has begun with some missile strikes at US bases in Iraq. They are suggesting that this is the limit of their response, though it is hard to know whether to take that seriously. Mr Trump seems to be shrugging it off. If that is all that happens, then Mr Trump will have got off lightly, and he and his supporters will claim victory.

But earlier the Iranian regime abandoned its vestigial adherence to the nuclear deal. Their thinking may be to deliver this rather underwhelming response and then go as hard and fast as they can for nuclear weapons. In their eyes that is probably the most rational approach: if Mr Trump wants to scale down US action in the Middle East, there will be little they can do to stop Iran, if that country does not present too many easy targets for air strikes.

The US public is unlikely to understand that this is what is happening, and look on Mr Trump’s actions favourably. If so Mr Trump’s faith in his own genius will be affirmed. At some point this has to unravel. Doesn’t it?