The Sales Pitch and the Product

I Could Be Wrong

Sitting here in Southwest Florida this week, I found myself asking a question I am asking more often these days. When do we stop listening to the sales pitch and start looking at the product? That is not really a political question. It is a common-sense question. If someone keeps telling you how great something is, eventually you stop listening to the advertising and start paying attention to the results. That is where I am. Not just with Donald Trump. Not just with politics. With everything.

Trust has become one of the rarest commodities in America. Government wants our trust. The media wants our trust. Political parties want our trust. Corporations want our trust. Everybody wants trust. But trust is not given; trust is earned. And this week reminded me just how difficult it has become to know who has earned it.

Let us start with the Strait of Hormuz.

Americans were told the strait is open. Oil is flowing. Things are under control. Success. Sounds great. But I am not asking anyone to believe me. Ask yourself a simple question. If you owned a billion-dollar cargo ship, would you want it sailing through the Strait of Hormuz right now? If you were writing the insurance policy, would you be excited about covering that voyage? If the answer is no, then maybe we should be careful before celebrating how wonderful things are going. Military forces are still involved. Commercial shipping still faces extraordinary risks. World leaders continue warning about instability. Macron publicly described the situation as dangerous and unresolved and rejected the idea that military force offered a simple solution. There is a difference between the road being open and the road being safe. There is a difference between traffic movement and a problem being solved. Most Americans understand that immediately. Yet somehow, we are expected to celebrate victory while the danger remains.

Then there is Greenland.

For months we were told how important Greenland was. How critical it was. How essential it was for America's national security. Then came the announcement. A new agreement. A major triumph. Another success story. Another historic achievement. Except Greenland is still Greenland. Denmark still retains sovereignty. The United States already had substantial military rights there. Even reports covering the announcement noted that it was not immediately clear how different the new agreement is from arrangements that already existed. Maybe the agreement will prove important in the future; maybe it will not. But once again the presentation seems much larger than the reality. The sales pitch says revolution. The product looks a lot more like renovation.

Then came the triumphal arch.

What began as a monument suddenly became much more. Now we are being told it will also function as a military complex with drones, snipers, and ammunition storage because the military supposedly requested it. Maybe that is true. Maybe it isn't. But after a while, a pattern emerges. Everything must be the biggest. Everything must be historic. Everything must be unprecedented. Everything must be the greatest anybody has ever seen. After hearing that for years, a person starts to wonder whether we are governing a country or producing a television commercial.

Then we arrive at the Kennedy Center.

This may be the clearest example of all. Think about the message. We're told institutions are broken. We're told they are failing. We are told they are unsafe. We're told drastic action is needed. But somehow the solution always seems remarkably familiar. Put Trump's name on it. Put Trump in charge of it. Put Trump at the center of the story. Then suddenly what was failing becomes a success. What was broken becomes beautiful. What was a disaster becomes a triumph.

Maybe I am oversimplifying. But that is how it looks to many ordinary Americans. At some point, a person must ask whether we're solving problems or simply rebranding them. But what bothered me most this week was not Greenland. It wasn't the Strait of Hormuz. It wasn't the arch. It wasn't even the Kennedy Center. It was the treatment of the press.

Look, I don't think the media is perfect. Far from it. Journalists make mistakes. News organizations have biases. Reporters get things wrong. They are human beings. But that is not the issue. The issue is what happens when facts become inconvenient. This week journalists from major news organizations were denied White House access after their credentials were deactivated. At the same time, senior Trump adviser Peter Navarro appeared on Steve Bannon's program and described certain reporting on the economy, tariffs, and the Iran war as "treasonous." Think about that word for a moment. Treasonous. Not mistaken. Not unfair. Not biased. Treasonous. When did asking questions become treason? When did challenging official claims become treason? When did reporting facts that embarrass politicians become treason? That word means something. And Americans should be very careful when powerful people start throwing it around. Because once reporters become the enemy, facts become optional. That is when narrative starts replacing reality. And that is what finally hit me this week.

The Strait of Hormuz.

Greenland.

The triumphal arch.

The Kennedy Center.

The attacks on journalists.

At first glance, they seem unrelated. But I do not think they are. I think they're all part of the same story. The common thread isn't policy. The common thread is narrative. The common thread is the expectation that reality should conform to the story instead of the other way around. If reality supports the narrative, it is celebrated. If reality challenges the narrative, reality becomes the problem. The reporter becomes the problem. The critic becomes the problem. The person asking questions becomes the problem. The ally who disagrees becomes the problem. Anybody who points out contradictions becomes the problem. And that should concern every American. Not because we're Democrats. Not because we are Republicans. But because we are Americans.

I could be wrong.

But what troubles me most is not Donald Trump. It is what we're becoming as a country. I grew up believing that the truth mattered. Not Republican truth. Not Democratic truth. Just the truth. I believed leaders are supposed to work for us. Reporters were supposed to ask uncomfortable questions. I have always hoped that when something was not working, our leaders would level with the American people and tell us so. Maybe it would be disappointing. Maybe it would be embarrassing. But at least it would be honest.

Somewhere along the way that changed. Now everything must be a victory. Everything has to be historic. Everything has to be the greatest success anybody has ever seen. And if reality gets in the way, then reality becomes the problem. At some point, a regular person has to stop and ask: What exactly are we doing here? Are we governing a nation? Or are we managing a brand? Because those are not the same thing.  I don't need perfection from my leaders. I don't need every policy to succeed. I don't need every decision to be correct. What I do need is honesty. Tell me when something works. Tell me when something didn't. Tell me when the situation is dangerous. Tell me when a problem remains unsolved. Trust me enough to tell me the truth.

Because I hope that is all most Americans are really asking for. Not a slogan. Not a sales pitch. Not another victory parade. Just the truth. I think Americans are strong enough to handle it. I hope Americans are smart enough to recognize it. And I hope Americans are getting tired of being treated like customers at a marketing convention instead of citizens in a democracy.

Maybe I am wrong. But the older I get, the more I believe that a nation can survive bad policies. A nation can survive bad leaders. A nation can survive political disagreements. What a nation cannot survive is losing its commitment to the truth. Because once truth becomes whatever the powerful say it is, freedom is not far behind. And that is what worries me most.

Not this week.

Not this administration.

Not this president.

What worries me is what is happening to America.