President Trump has always understood the value of a simple story, whether it’s one told in a 1990s tabloid, on a 2000s reality show or from behind the lectern of the White House briefing room in 2025.
In his storytelling, there is always a villain.
After a plane and a helicopter collided last week over the Potomac River in Washington, the president blamed hiring programs that promote diversity, pointing his finger at a major target of his nascent administration.
When a man killed 10 people in a New Year’s vehicle-ramming in New Orleans, Trump, before he took office, seemed to immediately blame illegal immigration, connecting the attack back to his chief political concern without waiting to see who the attacker was: a U.S.-born American.
And as the country struggles with a fentanyl crisis, Trump has laid the blame on its neighbors and threatened tariffs as the punishment.
My colleagues and I have reported a lot on Trump’s blame game. I wrote about his targeting political opponents after the California wildfires. Peter Baker recently noted how thoroughly Trump has blown up the expectation that presidents seek unity after tragedy. Today, Erica Green looked closely at the racist undercurrent of his scapegoating.
But, to some degree, there’s a piece still unexplored: Why does Trump’s finger-pointing, which has been part of his political arsenal since he announced his first presidential bid in 2015, seem so politically effective?
