What This Presidency Is Teaching Us About Leadership, Power, and Ourselves

A version for Young Adults is also included at the end of this…

There’s an old idea in every tradition of learning, from the dojo to the classroom to the kitchen table: the strongest foundations are built on lessons hard-earned, on trial and tribulation, on the mistakes we lived through and refused to repeat. History teaches most clearly not through its triumphs but through its failures — through the leaders who showed us, in real time, exactly how not to lead.

This moment in the American story may be remembered that way. Not as an aberration to be quietly filed away, but as a litmus test — a stress test of the republic’s institutions, its social contract, and its people’s tolerance for cruelty when it is dressed up as strength.

This is one perspective on that test, and on what it’s teaching us.

A Presidency Measured in Who Gets Left Behind

The case that critics make is not abstract. It is measured in program cuts, funding notices, and death tolls.

Start with the safety net for the country’s oldest and most vulnerable residents. The 2025 budget reconciliation law cut federal funding for SNAP, the food-assistance program that more than 6 million Americans 65 and older rely on to help buy groceries, shifting more of the program’s cost onto states just as homelessness among seniors rose even as it fell for most other age groups. The same reconciliation package included roughly $990 billion in Medicaid cuts, while the administration separately eliminated the federal agency that funded independent-living services for older and disabled Americans.

Housing tells a similar story. In November 2025, the administration overhauled federal homelessness policy, shifting money away from long-term permanent housing and toward transitional programs that require work and addiction treatment as preconditions for shelter — a change the National Alliance to End Homelessness warned could upend life for people who had finally found stability, many of them seniors or people with disabilities. The new funding formula alone put as many as 170,000 people who rely on Continuum of Care assistance at risk of returning to homelessness, according to the National Low Income Housing Coalition. Even the country’s public housing stock took a hit, with the 2026 appropriations law cutting public housing funding by nearly $500 million — a cut that accelerates the deterioration of buildings that were already underfunded for renovation.

And then there is what has happened inside ICE detention — a system holding a record number of people, the overwhelming majority of whom have no criminal conviction. By the administration’s own count, 46 people died in ICE custody between January 2025 and mid-March 2026, a toll that exceeded the highest total seen in over two decades, with the pace in 2026 on track to meet or exceed 2025’s total. Physicians for Human Rights, cross-referencing records over the first 500 days of the administration, found the mortality rate in ICE custody had more than doubled compared with the first Trump term and was nearly four times the rate under the Biden administration — a rate higher even than during the COVID-19 pandemic. The same report found seven apparent suicides in detention in a single year, compared with one in all of 2024. Reporting by the Guardian on the 32 people who died in 2025 found some deaths followed repeated, failed attempts by detainees and their families to get medical care, and that December, the month detention numbers peaked, was also the deadliest month of the year.

None of these numbers are in dispute among the agencies and researchers who track them — ICE’s own published figures are the baseline most of these reports start from. What’s contested is what they mean, and who bears responsibility. That distinction matters, and I’ll come back to it.

“He Showed Us How a Leader Should Not Be”

Here is where I want to step out of the numbers and into something more personal — because policy critiques land differently than lived experience, and this moment has forced a lot of people to reckon with both at once.

There’s a belief, common among this administration’s critics, that what’s unfolding isn’t merely bad policy — it’s a live demonstration, a kind of national litmus test, of what leadership should never look like: self-enrichment prioritized over the public good, cruelty toward the vulnerable treated as a feature rather than a bug, and accountability for the powerful quietly dissolved while the poor, the elderly, and the undocumented absorb the cost. Whether or not you accept that framing, it’s the frame animating a great deal of the coverage above, and it’s worth stating plainly rather than dancing around it.

It’s also a frame that raises an uncomfortable question about all of us — not just the man in the office, but the coalition that put him there and keeps him there. And that’s where I think back to something that happened to me years ago, long before any of this, that taught me something about the difference between ignorance and malice, and about what it actually takes to interrupt either one.

I was in a Blockbuster — remember those — waiting in line to rent a DVD. Ahead of me was a Hispanic man with his young daughter, who spoke little English. The clerk, an older white woman, was sharp and dismissive with him in a way that made the whole line uncomfortable. When I stepped up to the counter, she started to greet me the same way she’d greeted him. I stopped her. I told her, plainly, that I’d seen how she treated the man and his daughter, that I didn’t think she was necessarily racist, but that it was clear she was ignorant — and that I wasn’t going to be spoken to like that, so let’s make this transaction quick and I’ll be on my way.

She was stunned. So, visibly, were the other customers in line — one of them, I could tell, was quietly satisfied someone had finally said something. I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in aggressive confrontation, and I don’t believe in staying timid either. What I believe in is being assertive — naming a thing clearly, without cruelty, and refusing to let it slide. I think that exchange knocked her down a rung or two on what I’d call the ladder of ignorance. It probably mattered, too, that another man from the same community she’d just been rude to was the one calling it out.

I bring that story up because I think it’s relevant to the political moment we’re in. Not every person who supports this administration’s policies is doing so out of malice. Some are. Many, in my experience, are doing so out of a mix of ignorance, fear, grievance, and identification with a cultural tribe that feels under siege — and those are different problems requiring different responses. But when ignorance and hostility toward outsiders do align with the machinery of a government — with an agency like ICE, with detention numbers and death counts like the ones above — the stakes stop being personal and start being structural. A rude store clerk can be corrected in a five-minute exchange. A federal enforcement apparatus operating at a record pace, with a record death toll, is a different order of problem entirely.

Naming the Political Architecture

Critics of the administration frequently point to Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation’s governing blueprint published ahead of the 2024 election, as the intellectual scaffolding behind much of what’s followed — the restructuring of federal agencies, the aggressive posture on immigration enforcement, the deregulatory push on environmental and consumer protections. The administration has, at various points, distanced itself from the document publicly while implementing significant portions of it, a contradiction that watchdog groups and left-leaning outlets like Democracy Now! have covered extensively, often through interviews with the career civil servants and advocacy organizations most directly affected by the changes.

The throughline in that coverage — and in the reporting above from KFF, the Urban Institute, the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, Physicians for Human Rights, and the National Low Income Housing Coalition, none of which are partisan outlets in the traditional sense, but research and advocacy organizations working from primary government data — is that the costs of this governing approach are not distributed evenly. They land hardest on people with the least capacity to absorb them: detained immigrants without criminal records, seniors on fixed incomes, disabled people relying on community-based care, families in public housing that isn’t being maintained.

Meanwhile, critics argue, accountability for corporate polluters and financial actors has grown more permissive, not less — deregulation paired with reduced enforcement capacity at the agencies meant to police both. That claim is harder to quantify in a single citation than the homelessness and detention numbers above, but it’s a consistent theme across progressive and mainstream reporting on this administration’s regulatory posture, and it’s the piece of the argument that most sharpens the sense of a two-tiered system: austerity for the vulnerable, permissiveness for the powerful.

What History Might Say About This

If this period does become “one for the history books,” it likely won’t be remembered as an isolated event. American history has its own back catalog of leaders and movements that, in hindsight, became case studies in what not to do — from Reconstruction’s betrayal by the Compromise of 1877, to the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, to McCarthyism’s assault on civil liberties in the name of security. Each was defended in its moment by a durable coalition that believed, sincerely, that it was doing something necessary. Each was later recognized, by a broad and bipartisan consensus, as a moral and practical failure. Whether the current period ends up in that same category is, by definition, not something anyone can know from inside it — but the pattern the critique follows is a familiar one in American memory: a government empowered to act decisively against a designated “other,” while the guardrails meant to protect the vulnerable are dismantled in the name of efficiency or order.

There’s also a quieter, more hopeful thread running through this argument, and it’s worth naming: the belief that democracy survives even when its institutions falter, because it persists in what people choose to do for and with each other. Mutual aid networks, community organizing, local resilience efforts, cross-cultural solidarity of the kind that Blockbuster line witnessed in miniature — these are, in this view, democracy practiced at the only scale that’s ever really been reliable: the human one.

The Other Side of the Argument

None of this is uncontested, and a fair accounting has to say so plainly.

The administration and its supporters frame the SNAP, Medicaid, and housing changes as fiscal responsibility and welfare reform aimed at reducing dependency and targeting fraud, not cruelty — arguing that work requirements and transitional-housing models promote long-term “self-sufficiency” rather than permanent reliance on federal aid, and that federal spending needed to be brought under control after years of growth. On immigration enforcement, the administration argues that record detention numbers reflect a policy choice to enforce existing law after years of comparatively lax enforcement, that the rise in deaths is a byproduct of the sheer increase in detention volume rather than of degraded conditions, and that ICE is required to and does report and investigate every custody death under existing transparency rules. Some conservative commentators and outlets also argue that Project 2025 is being overstated as a governing document rather than treated as one thinktank’s wish list among many that any administration weighs selectively.

On the framing of Trump’s coalition in particular — polling on any president’s supporters is contested territory, and characterizing tens of millions of people primarily through the lens of ignorance or racism is itself a claim reasonable people dispute, including many who are critical of specific policies but resist blanket characterizations of the people who support them.

The honest version of this piece holds both things at once: the documented, largely undisputed data on deaths, cuts, and displacement above, and the genuine, good-faith disagreement over what caused them, who’s responsible, and what should be done next. That disagreement is where the actual political fight is happening, and it deserves to be engaged with directly rather than waved away.

Addendum: Version for Young Adults

How to VOTE for a President

A Seventh-Grade Guide to Leadership, Power, and Democracy

The Lesson We Did Not Ask For

Some of the strongest lessons come from hard times. We learn from mistakes, unfair choices, and leaders who show us what not to do.

History is not only a story about victories. It is also a record of failures that people chose not to repeat.

Many critics believe the current presidency is testing the United States. It is testing our laws, our public institutions, and our willingness to protect people who are poor, elderly, disabled, vulnerable, or treated as outsiders.

This is one view of that test and what it may teach us about leadership.

A Presidency Measured by Who Gets Left Behind

Critics say we should judge a president by more than speeches, slogans, or television appearances. We should look at what government decisions do to real people.

The original article points to cuts and changes involving food aid, Medicaid, housing, disability services, and immigration detention. It argues that these policies can hurt people who already have the fewest resources. This includes older adults, people with disabilities, low-income families, and immigrants held in detention.

Housing policy is one example. Critics warn that moving money away from long-term housing could place some people at risk of becoming homeless again. They also argue that cutting public-housing funds can make old buildings less safe and harder to repair.

Immigration detention is another serious concern. The article reports a rise in deaths inside ICE detention. It also says some families struggled to get medical help for detained relatives.

The basic numbers may be documented, but people strongly disagree about what caused the deaths and who should be held responsible.

What Leadership Should Not Look Like

Some critics see these events as a lesson about bad leadership.

They believe a leader should not use cruelty as proof of strength. They believe a president should not protect powerful people while asking poor or vulnerable people to carry most of the pain.

A president has great power. That power can protect people, solve problems, and strengthen democracy. It can also be used to frighten people, divide communities, or remove protections.

This is why character matters as much as policy.

A Personal Lesson About Speaking Up

Years ago, I was standing in line at a Blockbuster store. A Hispanic man and his young daughter were ahead of me. They spoke little English. The clerk treated them in a rude and dismissive way.

When it was my turn, I calmly told the clerk that I had seen how she treated the family. I did not shout or insult her. I clearly said that her behavior was wrong and that I would not accept being treated that way either.

That moment taught me the difference between being aggressive and being assertive.

Aggression tries to hurt or overpower someone. Assertiveness names the problem clearly without being cruel. Sometimes speaking up can help another person see their ignorance and change their behavior.

A rude store clerk can be challenged in a few minutes. Government unfairness is much larger.

When fear, prejudice, or hostility becomes part of a government system, many people can be harmed. Changing that kind of system requires voting, organizing, learning, and working together.

Not Every Supporter Is the Same

It is unfair to assume that every person who supports a president has the same reason.

Some people may act from prejudice or cruelty. Others may be influenced by fear, anger, false information, party loyalty, or a feeling that their way of life is under attack.

These reasons are different, so they require different responses.

Some people need better facts. Some need honest conversations. Some need to see how a policy affects real families.

However, harmful results still matter even when a supporter did not intend to cause harm.

The Larger Political Plan

Critics often connect the administration’s actions to Project 2025, a plan created by the Heritage Foundation before the 2024 election.

They say parts of the plan helped shape changes to federal agencies, immigration enforcement, environmental rules, and consumer protections.

The administration has sometimes tried to separate itself from the plan. Supporters also argue that Project 2025 is only one organization’s wish list and that a president chooses ideas from many sources.

This disagreement is important. Voters should know who is influencing a candidate and what plans may be used after an election.

What History May Say

American history includes many choices that were defended at the time but later judged as deeply wrong.

Examples include the forced imprisonment of Japanese Americans during World War II and the attacks on civil rights during the McCarthy era.

People living through a major event do not always know how history will judge it. Still, we can ask important questions now:

Is the government protecting people’s rights?

Is it treating one group as an enemy?

Are leaders removing safeguards in the name of order, safety, or efficiency?

There is also hope.

Democracy is not only what happens in Washington, D.C. It lives in local communities, mutual-aid groups, classrooms, neighborhoods, and people who defend one another.

Democracy becomes stronger when ordinary people learn, organize, vote, and refuse to ignore unfairness.

The Other Side of the Argument

A fair discussion must include the administration’s explanation.

Supporters say changes to food aid, Medicaid, and housing are meant to reduce waste, prevent fraud, control spending, and encourage people to become more self-sufficient.

On immigration, supporters say the government is enforcing laws that were not strongly enforced before. They argue that more deaths may be connected to the much larger number of people being detained, not necessarily worse care.

They also say ICE must report and investigate deaths in custody.

Supporters reject the idea that millions of voters can simply be described as ignorant or racist. Some may disagree with certain policies but still believe the president is better on the economy, immigration, national security, or other issues.

The honest lesson is that two things can be true at once.

There can be real facts about cuts, deaths, and people losing support. There can also be real disagreement about causes, responsibility, and solutions.

Democracy requires us to examine both the facts and the arguments.

How to VOTE for a President

Voting is not choosing a hero. It is hiring a public servant with enormous power.

V — Values

Ask what values guide the candidate.

Does the person show honesty, fairness, courage, self-control, compassion, and respect for the law?

Notice how the candidate treats people who have less power or who disagree.

O — Observe

Watch actions, not only words.

Campaign promises matter, but a leader’s record matters more. Look at past decisions, the people the candidate hires, the groups providing money or advice, and the results of the candidate’s policies.

T — Think

Think about who will be helped and who may be harmed.

Ask whether a policy protects everyone’s rights or only rewards one group. Consider how decisions may affect children, older adults, workers, immigrants, people with disabilities, the climate, and future generations.

E — Examine

Examine the evidence.

Check more than one reliable source. Separate facts from opinions. Compare each candidate’s plans.

Ask whether claims are supported by records, laws, budgets, expert research, and real-world results.

Questions Every Voter Should Ask

Does this candidate respect the Constitution and the peaceful transfer of power?
Does this candidate tell the truth and correct serious mistakes?
Does this candidate protect people’s rights, even when they are unpopular?
Who benefits from the candidate’s policies, and who carries the cost?
Does this candidate unite people around solutions or gain power by spreading fear?
Will this candidate protect the environment and the future of young people?
Does this candidate accept limits, oversight, courts, and public accountability?

Final Thought

A president does not need to be perfect. No human being is.

But a president should be honest enough to admit mistakes, strong enough to accept limits, wise enough to listen, and compassionate enough to protect people who cannot protect themselves.

The most important question is not:

“Do I like this person?”

The more important question is:

“Can I trust this person with power?”

A responsible voter studies the evidence, thinks about the common good, and remembers that every election helps shape the kind of country the next generation will inherit.