Trump's war on truth a threat to democracy

As Donald Trump wages a relentless assault on truth, the foundations of democracy grow increasingly unstable, writes Ben Peterson.

IN THE WAKE of right-wing political activist Charlie Kirk's assassination, much of the conversation has focused on the influence of dangerous rhetoric.

We have been cautioned to tone it down, to be civil and to be kinder to one another. Many right-wing voices have even blamed the assassination on the inflammatory language of the Left. But in our post-truth world, disingenuous politicians and media figures manipulate at will; not just shirking accountability, but thriving because of it.

The greatest threat to civic life is not incivility – it is the uselessness of civility when truth no longer matters.

When you're asked to “tone down the rhetoric”, what is actually being asked of you? Make no mistake, the Right wants acquiescence, obedience and acceptance. Now in his second term, President Donald Trump is well aware of the power the Presidency and all it encompasses provides him.

God and guns: The real forces behind Charlie Kirk’s killer

While conservative media rushes to blame the Left, the truth behind Charlie Kirk’s assassination lies in a deadly fusion of religiosity, gun culture and right-wing ideology.

Usurping power from the legislative branch and influencing the judicial, the full weight of the United States is being brought to bear on many of Trump's opponents. His celebration of Jimmy Kimmel's cancellation (and influence of the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) on that) shows constitutional rights won't deter him. Toning down is rolling over and freedom is in a fight with one man who never will.

Aristotle, in Rhetoric, described three pillars of persuasion: ethos, the credibility of the speaker; pathos, the emotional state of the hearer; and logos, the argument itself. Apply these pillars to the current U.S. President and the effectiveness of his rhetoric becomes obvious.

On ethos, Aristotle says speakers must display practical wisdom, a virtuous character, and goodwill. Importantly, these effects must be produced by the speech alone, not preordained by established character.

We all know what Donald J Trump thinks of Donald J Trump. Whether he's touting his “very, very large a-brain”, revealing his natural ability to understand medicine, or referring to himself as a “very stable genius”, he leaves sycophantic followers in no doubt as to his intellectual superiority. Despite countless examples otherwise, his seemingly indefatigable conceitedness demonstrates it's not who he is, but what he says that determines how the audience sees him.

Amongst an ocean of gaffes and hypocrisy, the audience still clings to what it hears, and it is thus an illusion of authority is created.

On the flip side, Trump's willingness to dive to unprecedented depths via ad hominem attacks on opponents is similarly unrelenting and effective.

When former President Joe Biden was diagnosed with stage four prostate cancer (which medical savant Trump called stage nine – a non-existent level he confused with another medical term: a Gleason score), he had the following to say about his predecessor:

“[Biden is] not a smart person, but a somewhat vicious person, I will say. If you feel sorry for him, don't feel so sorry, because he's vicious.”

This from the mouthpiece of the Christian party? Lucky Jesus rose from the dead, or he'd be rolling in his grave.

Trump’s MAGA is not engaging in democracy, they are destroying it

Donald Trump's war on free speech is not political discourse, it's a full-frontal assault on democracy, aided by cowardly media complicity.

On pathos, Aristotle stressed the importance of stirring emotions to shape judgment, an area in which Trump undoubtedly excels. It is here that the fable of the scorpion and the frog resonates.

The scorpion seeks passage across a river, asking a frog to carry it on its back. The frog hesitates, concerned it would drown if stung in the middle of the river, but the scorpion points out it would die also and would be folly. The frog agrees, but midway across the river, the scorpion stings the frog anyway, dooming them both. “Why?” asks the frog. “Because it is my nature,” replies the scorpion.

What is striking is not that Trump plays the scorpion, but that his followers see themselves as scorpions, too. For many on the Right – particularly the disadvantaged and the disaffected – Trump's rhetoric provides opportunity for them to sting their opponents, even if it means drowning together.

Which leaves us with logos: that people are most persuaded when they believe something to have been proven. A seemingly tautological statement that somewhat buries the lede; the operative word here is “believe”.

Donald Trump understands this instinctively. Federal Reserve chair Jerome Powell had to fact-check a $600 million addition that was a convenient manipulation; Trump declared that 300 million had died from drugs pouring into the country, presumably leaving 40 million Americans alive; he said in a debate that people in U.S. cities were “eating the dogs”.

None of these statements was true, yet they function as truth to those willing to believe. And when facts come from institutions beyond his control, Trump simply dismantles them. When the Bureau of Labor Statistics reported weak jobs growth, Trump didn't argue with the numbers. Instead, he fired the commissioner and insisted the data were “rigged”.

If a lie convinces, it works. If evidence contradicts the lie, discredit the evidence. And when said evidence resists distortion, discredit the very institutions that produce it.

Trump's war on anti-fascism will challenge anti-fascism to outlast him

Trump’s push to brand anti-fascism as terrorism may just encourage a global revival of resistance.

Open and honest political discourse is the lifeblood of a functioning democracy and we must fight to protect, or perhaps, more accurately, reclaim it. Across the ideological spectrum, if we truly value open discussion, civil debate and freedom of thought, then honesty must be a non-negotiable.

Here, the Left must take some ownership.

While the Right increasingly refuses to hear the truth and dismisses data as partisan manipulation, the Left refuses to hear dissent, conflating disagreement with moral failing, rather than mere difference of opinion. This over-reliance on pathos serves to alienate everyone to a degree. Like-minded progressives who may have singular differences may be cast out, would-be-ally centrists are rejected and right-wing conservatives are provided no incentive to seek common ground.

Aristotle acknowledged the potential for the abuse of rhetoric by demagogues, but countered that it is easier to convince someone of the just and the good than their opposites. The Left must be cautious of framing its audience as inherently unjust, or risk losing the ability to persuade them of anything.

Charlie Kirk’s career reflected both the danger and the potential of political theatre. He was capable of extreme and inflammatory rhetoric – even going so far as to call for the execution of President Joe Biden – as divisive as anything Biden ever said.

Yet alongside those moments, Kirk often created spaces for genuine debate without silencing his opponents. The looming figure before us, however, is Donald Trump, a man with no interest in such fairness and no time for it. He has shown that when dishonesty becomes strategy, no one wins. Left unchecked, deceit festers until its malignancy spreads and honest debate is not merely dead, but impossible.

History teaches a simple lesson: civility cannot cure dishonesty. Which raises the question, how do we respond?

We know if he valued truth like he does power, President Trump would say: