
I have Trump Derangement Syndrome and so does much of America and much of the world.
That’s not a confession of mental illness: it’s an indictment of a political era defined by cruelty, division, and the deliberate poisoning of democratic life.
“Trump Derangement Syndrome” is the phrase Donald Trump and his followers love to fling at anyone who dares to object to his behavior.
But the truth is simpler and far more damning: if millions of Americans and people across the globe are reacting with alarm, anger, and outrage, it’s because Trump has spent years earning that reaction.
Trump Derangement Syndrome isn’t a disease of the critics; it’s the predictable response to a leader who thrives on hate.
Just this week, after the brutal murder of filmmaker Rob Reiner and his wife, Trump responded not with empathy, not with basic human decency, but with venom. He blamed Reiner’s death on what he called Trump Derangement Syndrome and implied that Reiner’s criticism of him somehow provoked the violence.
That’s a sitting president blaming the victim of murder for his own death because he was a political opponent.
That alone should disqualify any leader from public office — even Ted Cruz and Marjorie Taylor Greene were horrified. But it fits a long and escalating pattern: Trump has turned cruelty into a governing philosophy that he’s trying to spread all across America.
He goes after the press relentlessly, calling journalists enemies, liars, and traitors. He recently called a woman reporter “piggy” in a public exchange. That isn’t strength: it’s bullying from a man who can’t tolerate scrutiny and knows that undermining the free press is the fastest way to weaken a democracy that might hold him to account.
He attacks Democrats without restraint, calling them vermin, communists, and enemies of the nation. He attacks Republicans who dare to disagree with him, labeling them disloyal, corrupt, or deserving of punishment.
In Trump’s worldview, disagreement is betrayal, dissent is psychological pathology, and loyalty to him personally replaces loyalty to the Constitution.
And he’s made it clear that he believes the machinery of justice should serve his vendettas. Trump openly brags about using the Department of Justice to go after his political enemies. Not criminals: enemies. That’s the language of authoritarianism.
In a democracy, the law restrains power. In Trump’s tyrannical vision, the law is a weapon of power.
Trump’s hate isn’t abstract; it hits real communities with real consequences. Somali Americans were singled out by name, accused of stealing, of not belonging, of being a “problem” population. Immigration enforcement actions followed the rhetoric, and suddenly entire communities live under suspicion. This is collective punishment based on race, religion, and nationality. It’s racism dressed up as policy.
Trump continues to demean Black and brown countries, describing them as undesirable, dangerous, or worthless. He’s revived the same toxic worldview that says some people matter less because of where they come from or the color of their skin. That worldview has always been poison to democracy.
And then there’s the constant mockery of tragedy. After a deadly shooting at Brown University, Trump responded with a shrug and the words “things can happen.” For survivors and grieving families, that wasn’t leadership, it was indifference. It was the sound of a man so consumed by grievance and narcissism that he isn’t capable of speaking to the pain of others.
This is what creates Trump Derangement Syndrome. Not disagreements over tax policy or trade deals, but his daily assault on empathy, truth, and democratic norms.
When a leader models contempt, his followers learn it. When a leader dehumanizes others, society fractures. When a leader tells millions of people that their neighbors are enemies, eventually someone believes him enough to act.
History teaches us this lesson over and over. Democracies don’t usually collapse overnight, they erode. They rot from the inside when leaders convince people that hate is strength, that cruelty is honesty, and that only one man represents the nation and everyone else is suspect.
We’re seeing that erosion in real time today. Trust in institutions is collapsing. Political violence becomes easier to justify. The idea of a shared national identity dissolves into warring tribes.
That is not an accident. It’s the direct result of rhetoric Trump specifically intend to use to divide us against each other.
So, what do we do?
- First, we stop accepting the lie embedded in the phrase Trump Derangement Syndrome. Being alarmed by authoritarian behavior is not derangement, it’s citizenship and love of country. It’s moral clarity. It’s the immune response of a democratic society under attack.
- Second, we demand leaders who heal rather than inflame. Leaders who speak to our better angels instead of our darkest fears. Leaders who understand that democracy depends on restraint, humility, and respect for human dignity.
- Third, we show up. We vote. We organize. We defend the press, the rule of law, and the rights of those targeted by Trump’s hate. Silence is the fuel of authoritarianism; engagement is its enemy.
America doesn’t need or want a strongman. We need and crave a uniter, a president who understands that power is a responsibility, not a license to abuse.
If that means the world continues to suffer from Trump Derangement Syndrome, so be it. The real moral and political sickness is pretending this is normal.
Democracy survives only if we choose it. Now is the time to choose.




