"When You Elevate the Mad King, You Elevate the Madness"
A scholar of authoritarian movements explains how Trump's irrational trade policies reflect the psychological disorder that now controls the U.S. government
By Timothy Snyder
Trump has an obvious weakness that makes America weak. He places the American economy at risk for the sake of a personal foible, a visible vulnerability.
All his adult life, Trump has been ripping people off. That is his modus operandi. Rather than a conscience, he has the habit of displacement. It is not that he is ripping people off. Everyone else is ripping him off.
As he has aged this has grown into a vulnerability. He actually seems to believe that everyone is ripping him off. He makes no distinction between himself and the government. And he has no grasp of how any significant policy actually works. This means that anyone who has access to him and understands his vulnerability can generate a self-destructive American policy.
An easy example of this, before the tariffs, was Ukraine. Somewhere Trump got the idea that Ukraine was ripping off the United States. And once the idea was in his head, he was its slave. He kept repeating that the Ukraine owed the United States $350 billion.
This made no sense. The assistance in question was aid, not a loan. The value of the aid was about a third of what Trump claimed. Most of the military aid came in the form of spending inside the United States. And of course the Ukrainians have paid. They have fulfilled the entire NATO mission by themselves in holding off a Russian attack. They have suffered enormous losses of all kinds. And they have shared intelligence and innovations with the United States. But none of that matters to Trump. Once he is told that he is being ripped off, he is helpless, and others must suffer.
We don't know now, though it is not hard to guess, who told Trump that Ukraine was ripping him off. The Russians have a keen sense of psychological vulnerabilities, and they have been paying close attention to Trump for a long time.
Trump also cites the made-up number of $350 billion to justify tariffs. He claims that Europeans, curiously, somehow "owe" the United States that exact same amount. Trump believes that if Americans buy more from another country than residents of that country buy from us, that is a loss, that he personally is somehow being ripped off. And so when the United States formulated tariffs on the whole world last week, the operating principle was that all trade deficits -- cases where we buy more than we sell -- should be eliminated.
This is nonsensical. There is no state of nature where countries buy and sell the exact same amount from one another.
Imagine a party where people are freely talking to each other. Then someone jumps up on a table and insists that in every conversation each speaker should use the exact same number of words as the person with whom he or she is in dialogue. What would happen then? Every conversation would grind to a halt, because an artificial planned equality of words is not how conversations work. An artificial planned equality of the value of imports and exports is, by the same token, not how trade works.
There is a much injustice in international trade. And there is much to be said for a thoughtful trade policy that protects or encourages certain industries. Manufacturing is of inherent value. But none of this will arise from the hurt feelings of an oligarchical president.
Because Trump's policy is based on personal vulnerability, it is erratic. If someone makes him feel more vulnerable than he was already, he will stop. He will not, for example, impose tariffs on Russia, because he is afraid of Russia. On the other hand, if someone convinces him that he has won, then he will also reduce the tariffs, as has just happened. If he no longer feels that he is being ripped off, then he yields. Until the moment when his feelings change.
To a person which such a obvious vulnerability, everything seems out of control. And so control is the only answer. Everyone is acting to rip me off. And so I must establish control by calling them all out, and making them deal with me from a position of weakness and ridicule. And so now the United States -- so goes the theory - will now negotiate individually with every single country of the world. We have broken agreements with many of them, and now we will sign new agreements, which will probably be worse: we lack time now, and patience, and focus. And we can never get back the trust of our closest trade partners.
The same is true in domestic policy. By establishing the tariffs, Trump thinks that he is creating leverage for himself against American companies. They will all have to come to him personally to seek the "carve-out," the exception, that will allow them to continue to trade in world markets and function as they had before. And so Trump can enjoy feeling less vulnerable as he tries to bully companies. But this amounts to central planning, and of a particularly irrational sort: one that depends upon one man's feelings. Investing inside the United States no longer means what it once did. And this will not quickly change.
We all have our foibles, our whims, our vulnerabilities. But when one person has unchecked power, irrationality becomes unchecked. Donald Trump thinks that everyone is always ripping him off. If he were the president in a normal situation, this would be a minor problem. But in a situation in which he has gotten away with an attempted coup, in which the Supreme Court has told him he is immune from prosecution, in which members of his own party rarely challenge him, in which Congress no longer sees the need to pass laws, and so on, in which too much of the media normalizes him, Trump's vulnerability can bring about the destruction of the country.
We have thousands of years of political theory and indeed great literature to instruct us on this point: too much power brings out the worst in people -- especially among the worst of people. As the founders understood, the purpose of the rule of law, of checks and balances, of regular elections, is to prevent precisely such a situation. Allowing our republic to be compromised has many costs, for example to our rights, and to our dignity. But it also has costs in a very basic economic sense. When you elevate the mad king, you elevate the madness.
Timothy Snyder is an American historian specializing in the history of Central and Eastern Europe, the Soviet Union, and the Holocaust. Subscribe to his Substack newsletter here.
Timothy Snyder’s critique of Donald Trump’s trade policies, framed as a psychological diagnosis, does more to advance partisan fearmongering than to provide a serious economic or political analysis. His claims not only misrepresent the principles behind Trump’s trade agenda but also dangerously conflate policy disagreement with mental instability, betraying the kind of anti-intellectual sensationalism unbecoming of a scholar.
Let’s start with the central thesis: that Trump’s trade decisions are irrational outgrowths of personal paranoia, rather than the product of coherent strategic thinking. This caricature overlooks a growing body of bipartisan concern over the structural imbalances in global trade and the erosion of American manufacturing. Trump’s focus on trade deficits—while often simplified in rhetoric—is not unique to him. Economists, policymakers, and voters across the spectrum have increasingly questioned whether “free trade” as practiced has truly been fair trade. The Trump administration’s push for tariffs and restructured agreements like USMCA sought to correct systemic disadvantages, bolster domestic industry, and reassert leverage long ceded in multilateral deals.
Snyder’s analogy of a conversation where each party must speak the same number of words to illustrate trade balance is clever but fundamentally flawed. Unlike casual conversation, trade relations involve tangible outputs, national employment, and strategic dependencies. If one side benefits disproportionately for decades—through subsidies, dumping, or currency manipulation—then expecting more symmetry is not madness; it’s a recalibration. Indeed, many of the same critics who mocked Trump’s tariffs now acknowledge that China, for instance, exploited WTO membership while hollowing out Western industries.
Further, Snyder implies Trump’s rejection of traditional diplomacy and multilateralism stems from a delusional sense of being personally wronged. In reality, many Americans elected Trump precisely because of his willingness to disrupt a stale consensus that had left middle America behind. Decades of bipartisan support for globalist trade policy brought little benefit to the Rust Belt communities devastated by offshoring and automation. Trump’s direct approach—calling out NATO members for underpaying, renegotiating NAFTA, confronting China—reflected not neurosis but a realignment of priorities toward national interest and economic sovereignty.
As for the Ukraine reference, it is rich to suggest Trump’s concern over aid corruption was “nonsensical,” especially given the long-documented issues with oversight in foreign assistance. Conflating his skepticism with Russian manipulation conveniently ignores the fact that strategic competitors are always seeking to influence U.S. policy, regardless of who is president. That’s not unique to Trump—it’s geopolitics.
Finally, Snyder’s conclusion descends into outright hyperbole. He paints Trump as an omnipotent tyrant, “a mad king” immune to checks and balances. But this ignores the reality that Trump was and remains subject to intense judicial scrutiny, media opposition, congressional investigations, and a deeply divided electorate. The idea that one man has dismantled American democracy is not only false—it diminishes the resilience of our institutions and the agency of the voters.
In the end, Snyder’s essay reads less like political analysis and more like psychological warfare dressed in academic prose. Disagree with Trump’s policies if you wish—that’s fair game in a democracy. But pathologizing those disagreements, reducing them to “vulnerabilities,” and declaring them the seeds of national destruction is not argumentation. It’s projection.