Every few minutes, as we drank, the same Motown classic kicked on again. Eventually one of my friends cracked, “Why do they keep playing this same song?” A moment later, the realization dawned.
That moment has been rattling around in my head lately, because Donald Trump and officials in his administration have been doing something remarkably similar. Whenever they’re confronted with uncomfortable questions, whether about corruption, incompetence, policy failures, scandal or even war, they walk up to the metaphorical jukebox and punch in the number.
Except their tune isn’t Motown.
It’s the stock market.
In Trump’s second term, the administration has relied on a single talking point whenever things get awkward: a rising Dow Jones Industrial Average. Lately, since it went past 50,000, they’ve relied on it more. Alas, at this writing, it’s down around 47,000.
No matter the topic, no matter the controversy, someone in Trumpworld brings the conversation back to the same supposed proof of success.
If critics raise concerns about tariffs or inflation, the response is: Look at the Dow.
If lawmakers question government misconduct, the answer is: Look at the Dow.
If scandals erupt — the same old song again. Just look at the Dow.
Attorney General Pam Bondi delivered perhaps the most jaw-dropping example, during a tense House Judiciary Committee hearing last month. Pressed about why her Justice Department had failed to indict Jeffrey Epstein’s co-conspirators, Bondi didn’t provide an explanation. She didn’t offer new evidence or promise transparency.
Instead, she blurted out: “The Dow is over 50,000 right now!”
It was so stupid it sounded like a cruel joke. Epstein survivors were sitting right behind her. Yet Bondi doubled down, insisting Congress should be discussing the booming stock market rather than pressing her about Epstein’s network.
She even mocked Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-MD), sarcastically calling him a “great stock trader” while dismissing questions with hissy fits of whack-o false factoids.
Bondi’s performance, tone-deaf and nonsensical, perfectly encapsulated the messaging strategy that defines Trump’s second term. When in doubt, play the stock market song.
Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent sings it, arguing that the market “lives in the future” and that soaring share prices prove investors believe Trump’s policies will produce prosperity.
Vice President JD Vance has incorporated the talking point into his claim that the economy deserves an “A-plus-plus-plus,” assuring voters that gains on Wall Street will translate into real benefits for ordinary families.
National Economic Council director Kevin Hassett echoes the theme, pointing to market valuations as evidence economic “lift-off” is driven by investment.
Loathsome lickspittle House Speaker Mike Johnson joins the chorus, invoking the “Trump effect” when the market hits a milestone.
Historically, the U.S. stock market has recovered and risen. But the problem with building an entire political narrative around it is that markets are fickle. They surge, stall, and sometimes plunge. And lately, the market has started reacting to the instability the administration prefers not to discuss.
Trump’s impulsive decision to launch military action against Iran has sent tremors through global markets. Oil prices surged, as tanker traffic slowed through the Strait of Hormuz, one of the world’s most vital shipping lanes for energy supplies.
Investors tend to despise uncertainty, and Trump’s erratic explanations for the conflict and its future have only deepened concerns about how long the crisis could last and how far it might escalate.
Does it end in four-to-five weeks? Tomorrow? Will we put boots on the ground?
The market reaction to such questions has been swift and punishing. Monday’s numbers were all over the place, as investors tried to digest the geopolitical shock alongside growing warning signs at home.
One of those signs arrived last Friday, in the form of a very poor jobs report. Economists had already warned that the labor market was cooling after years of robust growth. The latest data confirmed those fears.
At the same time, inflation remains. Many projections suggest core inflation will linger between roughly 2.6 and 2.8 percent through the end of the year, with some economists warning it could climb higher if tariffs and fiscal deficits continue to push prices up.
Those tariffs, combined with restrictive immigration policies, and the implications of rising fuel prices because of this war, are a confluence of danger signs for Trump.
The result is an economy that looks far less rosy than administration talking points suggest. Consumers continue to grapple with high costs for groceries, housing, and other necessities.
This Trump administration has relied on the stock market as its universal answer to critics. Questions about corruption are waved away with reference to record highs. Concerns about inflation are brushed aside with the same statistics. Even uncomfortable questions about Epstein were dismissed by pointing to the Dow.
But if the market continues to sink, becomes combustible or even stagnates, that shield disappears.
And that raises an uncomfortable question for Trump and his allies: if the one metric they’ve celebrated suddenly stops cooperating, what do they have left to point to?
Sooner or later, people will figure out that the same old market song was nothing but a joke.
