What Did Donald Trump Do Today?
March 31, 2025 Recap
Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt gave remarks to the press outside the White House, revealing a troubling blend of combative rhetoric, evasive communication, and ideological framing that echoes the most polarizing aspects of the Trump administration’s media strategy. Rather than engaging substantively with questions, Leavitt leans heavily into inflammatory language and partisan talking points. Referring to the upcoming tariff announcement as “Liberation Day” turns a routine policy rollout into political theater, minimizing the complexity of international trade while inflating its symbolism to a near-religious fervor. Her refusal to offer any specific details on the scope, sectoral targets, or country-by-country breakdown of the tariff plan—despite repeated inquiries—suggests a performative style of governance where spectacle is prioritized over clarity.
Leavitt’s comments on immigration and deportation policy are especially concerning. She touts the expulsion of “17 Trendaragua and MS-13 illegal criminal terrorists” as a triumph of national security without providing legal specifics, court records, or evidence of conviction. When challenged by a reporter on the criteria used by the Department of Homeland Security—specifically, concerns that tattoos and clothing alone may be sufficient to classify someone as a “terrorist”—Leavitt launches into a tirade, accusing the journalist of siding with violent criminals and shaming the media for “covering” for gangs. This is not the behavior of a press secretary committed to transparency and policy credibility; it is demagoguery designed to silence dissent and insulate the administration from oversight.
The exchange becomes even more alarming when Leavitt addresses Donald Trump’s flirtation with a potential third term. Rather than offer a firm, constitutional response, she brushes off the question as something the president jokes about “with a smile,” claiming the press overreacts. This normalization of authoritarian curiosity is deeply troubling, especially given Trump’s track record of undermining democratic norms. On foreign policy, Leavitt provides little more than platitudes about the president “working hard” to secure peace in Ukraine, with no substantive updates or diplomatic framework offered—another instance where superficial praise substitutes for genuine information.
Across the board, Leavitt’s approach to media interaction is more adversarial than informative. She routinely dodges accountability, as demonstrated in her handling of the Jeffrey Goldberg leak inquiry, which she declares “closed” without explanation. Instead of treating the press as a channel to inform the public, she positions journalists as hostile actors and attempts to shame them for asking reasonable questions. Her overuse of name-dropping Trump administration officials—listing off trade advisors and staffers—reads more like a deflection tactic than a sign of policy depth. Ultimately, this briefing encapsulates a White House communications style more interested in controlling the narrative than conveying the truth. It is a troubling sign for anyone expecting professionalism, transparency, or seriousness from the executive branch’s public-facing voice.
Donald Trump’s announcement of an executive order to combat ticket scalping and reform the live entertainment industry reveals a genuine public concern packaged within a chaotic, media-driven spectacle. On the surface, the order addresses a real consumer protection issue: the exploitation of fans by ticket resellers who use bots and algorithms to snatch up tickets and re-list them at inflated prices. The order, which tasks the Federal Trade Commission and the Department of Justice with enforcement in coordination with state attorneys general, could mark a meaningful step toward improving ticket transparency and fairness. However, the policy’s rollout lacks substance. No specific enforcement benchmarks, resource allocations, or regulatory thresholds were outlined. As Kid Rock (Who was in attendance) rightly noted, real progress would require legislative action—such as placing a legal cap on resale markups—which the executive order does not provide. The order reads more like a political gesture than a robust consumer protection strategy.
The presentation itself was emblematic of Trump’s governing style: disjointed, personality-driven, and cluttered with off-topic detours. What should have been a focused announcement quickly morphed into a rambling performance. Trump veered from the ticketing issue to topics including tariffs, Tesla, TikTok, immigration enforcement, nuclear diplomacy with North Korea, and personal anecdotes about his son’s romantic history. In doing so, he diluted the event's core message and used Kid Rock's presence to turn the moment into an entertainment-driven populist appeal. Trump framed the executive order as a favor to a friend rather than the result of careful policy planning, bragging that he achieved what others couldn’t in two decades in just two weeks. He even credited personal attorney Alina Habba for assisting with the order despite her lack of connection to ticketing or regulatory enforcement, further blurring the lines between political, legal, and celebrity roles.
What emerged was a pattern all too familiar in Trump’s second term: policy announcements serving as campaign rally substitutes, where governance is secondary to the performance. Ironically, Kid Rock’s remarks provided more coherent insight into the problem than Trump’s. He explained the dilemma of artists who want to keep prices low but are thwarted by bots and scalpers, articulating a nuanced view that supports capitalism and consumer fairness. Trump, on the other hand, opted for sentimentality and spectacle over substance. The rest of the event spiraled into self-congratulatory tangents about record investment numbers, past elections, international trade, and his personal relationship with Tiger Woods.
Ultimately, this was a missed opportunity to demonstrate serious leadership on a popular and bipartisan issue. While the executive order may signal a shift in how the federal government views the ticket resale industry, the rollout undermined its credibility. What could have been a significant consumer rights moment became yet another episode in Trump’s ongoing attempt to fuse policymaking with media showmanship. The problem is real, and the public interest is clear—but the treatment of the issue as entertainment leaves key questions about enforcement, accountability, and legislative follow-through unanswered.
Donald Trump issued an executive order establishing the United States Investment Accelerator as a characteristically bold yet problematic attempt to centralize federal support for large-scale investment projects. Framed as a response to what the administration calls “slow, complex, and burdensome” regulatory processes, the order sets out to create a new office within the Department of Commerce tasked with facilitating investments over $1 billion. Its stated goal is to reduce red tape, work with state governments, assist with permitting and site selection, and negotiate better terms for programs like CHIPS. While this initiative may appear pro-growth on the surface, it leans heavily into a deregulatory ideology that risks privileging speed and scale over transparency, fairness, and long-term public interest.
Structurally, the order adheres to standard legal formatting, including disclaimers that prevent it from overstepping existing laws or appropriations authority. However, it suffers from sweeping vagueness. Terms like “regulatory burdens,” “national resources,” and “better deals” are undefined, giving wide latitude to the executive branch without clear benchmarks for success or accountability. The order's emphasis on exploiting “existing mechanisms, exceptions, and opportunities” in federal law could open the door to abuse, especially with no oversight framework included. There’s also a striking lack of safeguards to balance business interests against environmental protections, labor standards, or community impacts—suggesting an approach more focused on enabling corporate expansion than protecting the public good.
Economically, the focus on $1 billion-plus investments is telling. This initiative overwhelmingly favors large multinational corporations rather than helping the broad spectrum of American businesses. It is unlikely to benefit small or even mid-sized companies and instead reflects a trickle-down theory of development that has historically yielded uneven results. Moreover, by singling out “better deals” than those negotiated under the previous administration, the order takes a political swipe at Biden-era policies without offering substantive solutions or measurable goals. The inclusion of the CHIPS Program Office under this new accelerator also raises concerns about political meddling in industrial policy, particularly given the Trump administration’s reputation for rewarding allies and punishing perceived opponents.
Politically, the order reads more like a campaign talking point than a coherent policy directive. It relies on combative language, targeting regulations as the enemy of growth and framing the previous administration’s efforts as inept. This ideological framing undermines the possibility of bipartisan support or long-term institutional stability. Bureaucratically, the creation of yet another investment office risks redundancy with existing entities like SelectUSA, the Small Business Administration, and various state-level investment authorities. With no guidelines for hiring, transparency, or coordination with other federal agencies, the office could easily become a patronage vehicle or a black box for opaque dealmaking.
The United States Investment Accelerator appears more of a political instrument than a well-designed policy reform. It centralizes executive power, privileges massive corporate projects, and fails to articulate how the public interest will be protected. Without checks, metrics, or meaningful interagency cooperation, it may attract headlines and ribbon cuttings—but little sustainable, equitable growth.
The Justice Department’s decision under Attorney General Pam Bondi to drop its lawsuit against Georgia’s SB 202 represents a politically charged reversal that favors partisan narratives over meaningful analysis of the law’s impact on voter access. Bondi’s statement, dismissing allegations of voter suppression as “fabricated,” reveals a fundamental unwillingness to engage with the complexity of voting rights issues in Georgia—especially in a state where election laws disproportionately affect communities of color. Her claim that increased Black voter turnout disproves suppression allegations is overly simplistic and ignores the nuanced findings of experts who warn that raw turnout numbers can mask systemic barriers. For instance, the Brennan Center’s data shows that while the number of Black voters may have risen, their turnout rate actually declined relative to population growth—a critical distinction Bondi ignores.
The rhetoric framing SB 202 as a vehicle for “secure elections” relies heavily on the same logic that fueled post-2020 election distrust despite a lack of evidence of widespread voter fraud in Georgia. The law’s targeting of high-density, urban, and predominantly Black areas with cuts to drop boxes and tighter absentee rules is not incidental—it is strategic. Prohibiting food and water distribution to voters in long lines, which disproportionately form in under-resourced precincts, reflects not a desire for order but an attempt to disincentivize voting under difficult conditions.
Bondi’s announcement was also conspicuously timed and political. By doubling down on Trump-era narratives and aligning with Georgia Republicans like Brad Raffensperger, she positions the DOJ not as a neutral arbiter of justice but as a participant in the broader effort to normalize restrictive voting laws. The celebration of increased turnout by Republican officials glosses over the reality that many voters had to navigate new and unnecessary hurdles to cast a ballot. Voter resilience should not be mistaken for equitable access.
Ultimately, dismissing the case may energize conservative claims of vindication, but it does little to resolve ongoing concerns raised by civil rights groups and legal scholars. With other pending lawsuits, the fight over SB 202 is far from over. What remains troubling is the Justice Department’s retreat from its responsibility to challenge legislation that, whether intentionally or not, raises the cost of participation for voters already burdened by structural inequities.
The Trump administration announced on Monday that it deported 17 alleged violent criminals affiliated with the Tren de Aragua and MS-13 gangs to El Salvador. The deportations are part of a broader, controversial policy of removing migrants to third countries, including those who are not nationals of the receiving country. According to the State Department, the individuals—whom Secretary of State Marco Rubio described as murderers and rapists—were removed Sunday night, although no specific information about their nationalities or alleged crimes was provided. El Salvador's government confirmed that the group included both Salvadoran and Venezuelan nationals. The men were flown by the U.S. military and delivered to El Salvador’s maximum-security prison, where video footage shows them being stripped, shaved, shackled, and forced to kneel or walk bent over under harsh conditions, raising significant human rights concerns.
This deportation action follows earlier removals of over 200 Venezuelan migrants to El Salvador earlier in the month, part of a policy expansion that began after President Nayib Bukele offered to imprison any migrants the U.S. wants to deport—regardless of their nationality—during a February meeting with Rubio. El Salvador is currently the only country actively imprisoning deportees at the request of the U.S. The Trump administration has increasingly used the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 to justify such actions, claiming that the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua constitutes a national security threat. Although the administration initially used the act to expedite deportations, a federal judge has since blocked further removals under this authority, citing due process violations and the need to allow individuals to argue that deportation to a third country would endanger their safety.
Despite the court ruling, the administration has asked the judge to reverse the decision and is pressing the Supreme Court to reinstate the policy. Meanwhile, immigration and civil rights groups continue to challenge the legality and morality of using an antiquated wartime statute to bypass traditional immigration protections. Critics argue that the administration’s deportation strategy lacks transparency, undermines the rule of law, and enables human rights abuses through its partnership with authoritarian-leaning regimes like Bukele’s. The use of El Salvador’s prison system as an offshore extension of U.S. immigration enforcement represents a troubling new frontier in immigration policy under Trump’s second term.
Donald Trump has fully pardoned Thomas Caldwell, a Navy veteran and January 6 defendant who was tried alongside Oath Keepers founder Stewart Rhodes in 2022. Though Rhodes was convicted of seditious conspiracy, Caldwell was acquitted of conspiracy charges but convicted of two other felonies. One was later vacated after a Supreme Court ruling, and he was sentenced to time served for the remaining conviction: evidence tampering (deleting messages post-riot). Trump commuted his sentence earlier, but the pardon erased his conviction.
Caldwell did not enter the Capitol or wear tactical gear, but prosecutors say he helped organize an armed “quick reaction force” across the Potomac. Despite not formally joining the Oath Keepers, he was deemed a willing participant in the broader effort to disrupt the election certification.
Trump’s pardon of Caldwell follows similar clemency for Oath Keepers and Proud Boys leaders, including Enrique Tarrio, part of a sweeping pardon for around 1,500 January 6 defendants.
The Trump administration announced a comprehensive review of Harvard University's federal grants and contracts—totaling over $255 million in current contracts and $8.7 billion in long-term commitments—to assess compliance with civil rights laws, particularly regarding antisemitism on campus.
This follows action taken against Columbia University, where $400 million in federal funding was frozen over concerns the school failed to protect Jewish students during pro-Palestinian protests. Columbia later agreed to federal demands, including stricter protest regulations and restructuring academic oversight of Middle Eastern and Palestinian studies.
Education Secretary Linda McMahon accused Harvard of prioritizing divisive ideologies over free inquiry and failing to protect Jewish students, thereby jeopardizing its reputation. No funds have been cut, but the administration warned that violations could lead to contract termination.
The League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) is suing the Trump administration over a sweeping executive order that imposes new restrictions on federal elections, including a requirement for voters to provide proof of U.S. citizenship when registering. The lawsuit, filed by the Campaign Legal Center and the State Democracy Defenders Fund on behalf of LULAC, the Secure Families Initiative, and the Arizona Students Association, argues that the executive order represents a constitutional overreach by the president. It claims the directive undermines the balance of powers by encroaching on Congress's authority to regulate federal elections and the states' responsibility to set the “times, places and manner” of elections, as outlined in the Constitution.
President Trump’s order mandates revisions to the federal voter registration form to include a citizenship requirement, directs states to purge noncitizens from voter rolls, and prohibits counting mail-in ballots that arrive after Election Day—even if postmarked on time. It threatens to withhold federal funding from states that do not comply and calls on federal agencies to access and share voter data, including immigration records and Social Security numbers, with states to verify eligibility. The executive order also tasks the U.S. Election Assistance Commission (EAC)—a bipartisan agency created by Congress—with enforcing the new rules, despite its independence from the executive branch.
Critics argue the order will make it significantly harder for eligible voters, particularly Latinos, to cast ballots and will have a chilling effect nationwide. LULAC’s CEO, Juan Proaño, warned that the citizenship requirement could disenfranchise many Latino voters and reflects ongoing efforts to suppress the vote based on unfounded allegations of noncitizen participation. Election experts maintain that voter fraud by noncitizens is extremely rare; for example, a 2016 study by the Brennan Center found only 30 suspected cases out of 23.5 million votes. Nonetheless, Trump continues to claim widespread fraud, stating upon signing the order that the country is “sick because of the election” and promising more election-related actions in the future.
The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) is continuing its $150 million lawsuit against Elon Musk, originally filed in the final days of the Biden administration. The suit accuses Musk of misleading investors during his 2022 purchase of Twitter stock. On Monday, a court filing revealed that Musk, now serving as head of the Department of Government Efficiency, has agreed to respond to the complaint by June 6, pending court approval. Though Musk challenges the validity of how he was served, both parties agreed the arrangement conserves judicial resources. This marks the first formal deadline in the case. Musk previously criticized the lawsuit on X, saying the SEC focuses on trivial matters while real crimes go unpunished.
The Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS), a small federal agency with approximately 70 employees, has placed its entire staff on 90-day paid administrative leave. The decision followed a brief internal meeting and an email notification, during which employees were instructed to surrender government-issued property and lost access to their email accounts. This development comes shortly after President Trump appointed Keith E. Sonderling, the Deputy Secretary of Labor, as the acting director of IMLS. It also follows an executive order issued by Trump aimed at shrinking seven federal agencies, including the IMLS.
The IMLS is a key source of federal funding for libraries and museums across the United States, providing $266 million in grants and research support last year. These funds help maintain operations, support staff, and launch programs, such as a workforce training initiative at the Museum of Discovery and Science in Orlando and digital access projects for Native American communities. While public libraries rely primarily on city and county taxes, organizations like the American Library Association and EveryLibrary emphasize that federal funds from IMLS play a critical role in sustaining vital programs, particularly for state libraries, museums, and archives.
According to AFGE Local 3403, the union representing IMLS employees, the status of already-awarded grants is unclear, and many are likely to be terminated due to the absence of administrative staff. Industry figures like Steve Potash, CEO of OverDrive—a major distributor of digital content to libraries—warn that small and rural libraries, which increasingly depend on digital resources, will be disproportionately harmed by federal funding cuts. The sudden halt in operations at IMLS underscores the broader implications of the Trump administration’s efforts to scale back federal institutions and centralize control.
The Trump administration is withholding over $27 million in Title X federal funds from 16 providers, including nine Planned Parenthood affiliates, citing alleged violations of civil rights laws and Trump’s executive orders against DEI (diversity, equity, inclusion) initiatives and services for undocumented immigrants. These clinics serve low-income patients with birth control, STI testing, and cancer screenings.
Planned Parenthood is accused of using race negatively in its operations and of encouraging undocumented immigrants to access care. They were given 10 days to prove compliance with the administration’s policies or risk permanent loss of funding.
Critics argue the move is ideologically driven and meant to punish providers who applied for grants under the Biden administration, which prioritized health equity. They also point out the administration bypassed formal rulemaking, making the action potentially unlawful and undemocratic.
Health experts warn the impact could be worse than under Trump’s first-term Title X restrictions, especially since Roe v. Wade has been overturned. The prior rules drove many providers out of the program, cutting care for nearly 850,000 patients. The current cuts come amid a still-recovering national family planning network.
A federal judge has temporarily blocked the Trump administration’s attempt to end Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for roughly 350,000 Venezuelan migrants, a move that would have stripped them of deportation protections and work permits by April 7.
In a sharply worded ruling, Judge Edward Chen halted the decision made by Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, criticizing it as "unprecedented," discriminatory, and legally questionable. He said the termination lacked proper justification, appeared to rely on negative stereotypes, and would cause irreparable harm to individuals, the economy, and public health.
Chen said the plaintiffs are likely to succeed in proving Noem’s decision was unauthorized, arbitrary, and driven by unconstitutional bias. Migrant advocates hailed the decision as a critical safeguard against what they called the Trump administration’s plan for mass deportations.
TPS, established in 1990, grants temporary protections to migrants from countries in crisis. The Venezuelan TPS program, expanded under Biden, currently covers about 600,000 people through two designations (2021 and 2023).
Noem had revoked the 2023 designation as part of a broader review of TPS programs ordered by Trump at the start of his second term. She is also targeting TPS for Haitians, with plans to begin winding it down this summer. Judge Chen has not yet ruled on that effort.
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