What Did Donald Trump Do Today?
March 21, 2025 Recap
Donald Trump’s remarks, delivered alongside Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth and military officials at a briefing in the Oval Office, presented a whirlwind of announcements, policy declarations, and off-the-cuff commentary that blurred the line between governance and campaign rally rhetoric. While the event was intended to highlight the unveiling of the F-47 sixth-generation fighter jet—a significant defense development—the speech quickly veered into scattered topics, including education reform, immigration, trade, and Trump’s usual grievances with the media and judiciary. Though he claimed the dismantling of the Department of Education’s functions was “very exciting,” the proposal to shift student loan management to the Small Business Administration and special education programs to Health and Human Services was poorly explained and appeared ideologically motivated rather than practically sound. The idea that the SBA—a financial agency for business—could effectively manage complex student loans lacked credibility, as did the notion that HHS is better equipped to oversee educational programs for special needs students. The announcement was presented without a clear implementation framework, legal justification, or mention of input from educators, governors, or administrators.
The centerpiece of the event—the F-47 fighter jet announcement—was framed as a triumph of American engineering and military superiority. Trump emphasized the plane’s stealth, speed, and drone coordination capabilities, claiming it was “virtually unseeable” and superior to anything in the world. Yet the hyperbolic delivery, peppered with vague phrases like “nothing even close to it” and “as many drones as you want,” lacked the technical specificity expected in a serious defense briefing. Military officials, particularly General David Alvin, attempted to ground the announcement in strategic rationale and modernization goals, but their more thoughtful remarks were overshadowed by Trump’s boastful tone and insistence on secrecy as a selling point. The promotional flair made the defense announcement feel more like a product launch than a sober national security update.
Trump also launched into an aggressive tirade against migrants, particularly those from South America and Venezuela, labeling them criminals and terrorists without evidence. His rhetoric—claiming millions of criminals, including murderers and gang members, had entered the U.S.—was alarmist, statistically dubious, and laced with dehumanizing language. He criticized judges for blocking deportations, suggesting he should have the unchecked power to round people up and expel them, sidestepping due process and the judiciary entirely. This authoritarian posture was paired with dismissals of critics and insinuations that legal checks on executive power were the product of “radical left lunatics.”
In another disjointed segment, Trump claimed full transparency on the release of JFK assassination files but quickly admitted he hadn’t reviewed them in detail. His casual attitude toward national records of historical importance reflected the broader tone of the event: reactive, scattershot, and improvisational. When pressed about Elon Musk’s visit to the Pentagon, Trump took the opportunity to attack The New York Times, denying that Musk had seen any military plans related to China. While Secretary Hegseth clarified that Musk was there to discuss defense efficiencies, Trump chose instead to rail against the press, returning to his familiar narrative of victimhood and media distrust. This reflexive grievance-mongering distracted from what could have been a substantive explanation of defense-private sector collaboration.
His remarks on trade and tariffs further underscored an America-first, isolationist outlook riddled with inconsistencies. Declaring April 2nd “Liberation Day” from unfair global trade practices, Trump boasted about punitive tariffs on allies like Canada and China but offered no strategic explanation beyond generalized economic nationalism. His suggestion that Canada should become the 51st U.S. state underscored the speech’s lack of discipline. He even detoured into a convoluted defense of his tariff policy by citing anecdotal investment figures, such as Apple supposedly pledging $500 billion—numbers unverified and inflated with little context. His claim that $4 trillion in investment had come to the U.S. since his return to office strained credulity.
Throughout the address, Trump repeatedly conflated governance with campaigning, inserting digs at political opponents, making grandiose promises, and citing dubious statistics to build a narrative of his personal success and national salvation. His delivery was rambling, at times incoherent, and riddled with tangents—like the astronauts’ per diem or jokes about Canadian liberals—that diluted any sense of policy seriousness. Even when important announcements were made, such as the F-47 program or changes to the education bureaucracy, they were overshadowed by Trump’s compulsive need to settle scores and portray himself as the only force standing between America and chaos.
The event was not a focused policy briefing but a chaotic amalgamation of defense hype, political messaging, media attacks, and performative outrage. Trump’s erratic delivery and overt politicization of nearly every issue undermined the credibility of those messages. The tone and substance of this appearance suggested something far less stable: a presidency more interested in spectacle than governance.
In a recent Truth Social post, Donald Trump issued a fiery defense of Elon Musk and Tesla, describing unnamed opponents as “sick terrorist thugs” and calling for them to receive 20-year prison sentences. He then sarcastically suggested these individuals serve time in El Salvador’s prisons, which he mockingly described as having “lovely conditions.” This post is emblematic of Trump’s inflammatory rhetorical style, which is marked by exaggerated language and a lack of specificity. The use of the term “terrorist thugs” without identifying who he’s accusing or what alleged actions they’ve taken is both reckless and irresponsible, inciting outrage without offering context. Furthermore, his endorsement—whether satirical or not—of notoriously harsh and inhumane prison conditions in El Salvador reflects a troubling comfort with authoritarian justice systems. Rather than promoting due process or engaging in serious discourse, Trump undermines legal norms by calling for extreme punishment without any indication of a fair trial. His post functions less as a legitimate critique of misconduct and more as a populist signal to his base, framing wealthy contrarians like Musk as persecuted victims of a corrupt system. Ultimately, the post trivializes the rule of law and weaponizes outrage for political gain.
Donald Trump issued an executive order titled “Strengthening the Suitability and Fitness of the Federal Workforce,” delegating expanded authority to the Director of the Office of Personnel Management (OPM), allowing the agency to make binding determinations about the fitness of federal employees based on their conduct after being hired. On the surface, the memorandum frames itself as a bureaucratic adjustment meant to standardize post-appointment disciplinary procedures. However, the order signals a significant shift in how the executive branch could manage and potentially purge its workforce. By centralizing the power to determine “suitability” in the hands of OPM, the order undermines the traditional autonomy of federal agencies in managing their personnel. It sets a dangerous precedent for politicized oversight.
One of the most concerning aspects of the order is its vagueness. It fails to define the specific types of post-appointment conduct that would trigger an OPM-directed removal, thereby opening the door to subjective or politically motivated interpretations. This lack of clarity, coupled with the mandate that agencies must comply with OPM’s directives within five working days, effectively shortens due process and weakens longstanding civil service protections. These protections were designed to preserve a merit-based, apolitical federal workforce, shielding career employees from partisan retaliation. The order’s framework appears to chip away at that foundation.
While the authority granted in the order is not immediate—it depends on the development and finalization of new federal regulations—this rulemaking process seems to serve as both a procedural buffer and a strategic delay. It sets the stage for future enforcement, potentially under a second Trump administration, when the groundwork laid by this memorandum could be used to justify sweeping removals under the guise of “suitability.” This approach fits within a broader pattern of Trump’s rhetoric and policymaking aimed at transforming the federal bureaucracy into one more aligned with his personal and political agenda. Though administrative in tone, the memo is a thinly veiled mechanism for undermining civil service independence, posing serious risks to the impartiality and stability of the federal workforce.
Donald Trump’s executive order titled Stopping Waste, Fraud, and Abuse by Eliminating Information Silos presents itself as a push for greater efficiency in government by mandating broad data-sharing across federal and state agencies. On the surface, the order’s goal—to eliminate bureaucratic inefficiencies and improve fraud detection—is reasonable and necessary. It outlines swift action, with tight deadlines for rescinding internal guidance, reviewing data access regulations, and reevaluating classification policies. This suggests a desire for rapid reform and better oversight, particularly evident in the emphasis on giving the Department of Labor and its Inspector General expanded access to unemployment data. However, the executive order’s implementation strategy reveals deeper concerns.
Most notably, the order demands "unfettered access" to unclassified data from state-run programs that receive federal funds, including data held by third parties. This level of federal intrusion challenges the principle of state sovereignty and raises potential constitutional issues. There is also little acknowledgment of privacy, due process, or the legal constraints typically governing such data exchanges. Additionally, the call for agencies to reassess classified information lacks clear standards, opening the door to politically motivated declassification or arbitrary reinterpretations of national security needs. Even more troubling is the exemption from Executive Order 14192, which ordinarily governs how agencies modify regulations. The order undermines regulatory oversight by circumventing this process and weakens procedural safeguards.
The order’s silence on civil liberties and data protection is especially glaring. While promoting inter-agency access to data might help root out fraud, the absence of explicit privacy protections invites potential misuse and abuse—especially if politically appointed officials are the ones determining access. Moreover, by consolidating data authority under presidentially designated officials, the order risks politicizing government data operations and centralizing executive power under the guise of administrative efficiency. While the order claims to be a technocratic fix to longstanding problems, it functions more as a sweeping expansion of executive reach. Without meaningful guardrails or oversight mechanisms, it threatens to trade bureaucratic inefficiency for federal overreach and unchecked data control.
Donald Trump’s decision to rescind an executive order targeting the law firm Paul, Weiss reveals a troubling pattern of executive overreach and the growing politicization of legal institutions. The order, which threatened to revoke security clearances and terminate federal contracts, appeared to be a direct response to the firm’s past affiliation with Mark Pomerantz—an attorney who previously led a financial investigation into Trump. That the White House would leverage federal authority to punish a private firm over prior legal work critical of the president raises serious concerns about the misuse of executive power and the erosion of professional independence within the legal field.
In exchange for the order’s withdrawal, Paul, Weiss agreed to significant concessions, including the abandonment of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) considerations in hiring, a pledge to pursue pro bono cases across the political spectrum, and a $40 million commitment in legal services supporting Trump administration initiatives. This capitulation reflects a growing trend of corporate and institutional compliance with the president’s ideological demands, echoing recent examples involving Meta, ABC, and other firms that have either made financial settlements or restructured policies to avoid presidential retaliation.
The implications extend far beyond this single case. The legal profession is founded on the principle that representation does not equate to endorsement. When law firms are pressured to alter internal practices or disavow past work under threat of government sanctions, it undermines the ethical foundation of legal advocacy. More broadly, this incident exemplifies how political retaliation is normalized through executive action, casting a chilling effect on institutions that operate independently of partisan influence. While the White House may portray this outcome as a win for “balance” and public service, the underlying dynamics suggest a disturbing shift toward coercion and control—where compliance is extracted not through persuasion but through intimidation.
U.S. District Judge James Boasberg sharply criticized the Trump administration and the Justice Department over its use of the Alien Enemies Act to deport Venezuelans, suggesting the move may have violated his court order and lacked transparency. During a heated hearing, Boasberg questioned whether the government deliberately ignored his orders by rushing deportation flights over the weekend and demanded answers about who authorized the actions.
The Justice Department, citing national security, pushed back against Boasberg’s inquiries, prompting the judge to accuse them of disrespect and non-cooperation. He expressed concern that the administration used the obscure wartime law — last notably used to justify Japanese internment during WWII — to fast-track deportations based on alleged gang ties, often relying on tenuous evidence like tattoos.
The ACLU argued the move sets a dangerous precedent, warning it allows deportations with minimal oversight or due process. Boasberg appeared sympathetic, calling the administration’s legal interpretation “troublesome,” “unprecedented,” and far removed from the original intent of the Alien Enemies Act.
Columbia University has agreed to comply with a series of demands issued by the Trump administration in an effort to regain $400 million in revoked federal funding. The decision, outlined in a document titled “Fulfilling Our Commitments” and posted to the Office of the President’s website, comes after a March 13 letter from federal agencies set forth conditions for formal negotiations. These demands followed the March 7 announcement by the Federal Task Force to Combat Antisemitism, which canceled the funding due to alleged failures by Columbia to address antisemitism on campus.
As part of its response, Columbia will implement heightened security measures, including a ban on protest masks that conceal identity (with exceptions for religious and medical reasons), the hiring of 36 special officers with the authority to arrest or remove individuals from campus, and new rules requiring protesters to present University identification when asked. The University also reinforced restrictions on protests in academic buildings, citing their potential to disrupt educational activities, and emphasized that all demonstrations must adhere to anti-discrimination policies.
Significant changes have also been made to the University’s disciplinary structure. The University Judicial Board (UJB), previously an independent panel with student members, will now be overseen by the provost and composed solely of faculty and administrators. Disciplinary authority has been centralized under the Office of the President, and students involved in the April 2024 “Gaza Solidarity Encampment” and the Hamilton Hall occupation have faced suspensions, expulsions, and other penalties. New disciplinary policies are also being developed for student organizations that engage in discriminatory behavior or violate University policies.
In a notable academic restructuring, Columbia has placed the Middle Eastern, South Asian, and African Studies departments and the Center for Palestine Studies under the supervision of a senior vice provost. The department will undergo academic receivership for at least five years, meaning leadership will be appointed externally. Several related programs—including the Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies, global centers in Tel Aviv and Amman, and Middle East-related curriculum at the School of International and Public Affairs—will also be subject to review.
Columbia has adopted a broader definition of antisemitism based on recommendations from an internal task force. The definition includes prejudices targeting Jews and Jewish Israelis, as well as actions that impose double standards on Israel or discriminate based on perceived connections to Israel. The University reported that over 32,000 affiliates had completed mandatory Title VI training, which now includes scenarios related to campus protests. A new online educational curriculum focused on open inquiry and antisemitism is also in development and will be shared with K–12 schools at no cost.
In addition to these measures, Columbia is reviewing its admissions process through an advisory group tasked with analyzing enrollment trends. This effort responds to the Trump administration’s call for comprehensive admissions reform. The University has also committed to institutional neutrality and is expanding programming at its Tel Aviv Global Center. Interim President Katrina Armstrong stated that the University’s actions reflect ongoing commitments to academic continuity and campus safety, and documentation of these efforts has been shared with relevant federal agencies. While Columbia has not explicitly confirmed whether these changes were made solely to meet federal demands, the timing and scope of the reforms suggest a direct response to political pressure. The House Committee on Education & the Workforce praised Columbia’s compliance, framing it as a necessary correction to what it characterized as previous failures to address antisemitic incidents on campus.
Through its interim Social Security chief Lee Dudek, the Trump administration has threatened to shut down the Social Security Administration (SSA) after a federal judge blocked Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) from accessing Americans’ personal data. DOGE, spearheaded by Musk, has been tasked with overhauling government spending and reducing the federal deficit.
U.S. District Judge Ellen Hollander issued a restraining order, calling DOGE’s data access a baseless “fishing expedition,” and ordered any data already collected to be destroyed. Under Dudek’s leadership and heavy DOGE involvement, the SSA claimed the order effectively disables their operations, threatening to cut off IT access for all SSA employees.
The judge emphasized that the goal of reducing fraud does not justify violating privacy or overstepping legal boundaries. The Biden-appointed judge’s order is temporary but extendable. Meanwhile, the White House and Deputy Press Secretary Harrison Fields decried the ruling as judicial overreach and an obstacle to enacting Trump’s efficiency agenda.
Donald Trump’s casual endorsement of the idea for the United States to join the British Commonwealth—shared via his Truth Social post—presents a striking mix of performative diplomacy, historical irony, and political opportunism. His remark, “I Love King Charles. Sounds good to me!” lacks the seriousness one might expect when discussing a symbolic realignment of national identity and raises important concerns about his grasp of both diplomatic norms and America’s foundational history.
At face value, the suggestion to rejoin a global organization rooted in the remnants of the British Empire seems antithetical to the values of American independence. After centuries of defining its national ethos around the rejection of monarchy, aligning the U.S. with a group primarily composed of former British colonies borders on revisionist spectacle. While the Commonwealth today is more ceremonial than functional, Trump's warm embrace of this concept appears more rooted in flattery toward King Charles III than in strategic policy analysis.
Furthermore, the juxtaposition of Trump’s criticism of international organizations like NATO and the UN with his openness to the Commonwealth raises questions about consistency. His skepticism of global alliances typically centers on sovereignty and perceived financial imbalances—yet he seems unfazed by the symbolic submission implied in rejoining an institution historically tied to imperial hierarchy.
The report that the move might help Trump avoid his own proposed tariffs adds a layer of economic self-dealing to what should be a principled discussion. Suppose the Commonwealth invitation is being entertained primarily as a workaround for steel and aluminum tariffs. In that case, it signals a transactional approach to diplomacy devoid of ideological coherence or long-term benefit.
Finally, the vague sourcing—from The Sun and The Daily Mail, two British tabloids known more for sensationalism than rigorous journalism—undermines the credibility of the entire proposal. Trump's uncritical amplification of such reports reflects a troubling tendency to govern by headline rather than substance.
Trump’s suggestion to join the Commonwealth is less of a strategic pivot and more of a symbolic gesture wrapped in nostalgia and personality politics. It reveals his penchant for theatrics over thoughtful diplomacy, his inconsistent stance on global partnerships, and a troubling disregard for American independence's historical and ideological weight.
Donald Trump’s post on his Truth Social media platform about the 14th Amendment offers a misleading and historically selective interpretation of constitutional law. He asserts that the amendment was solely intended to grant citizenship to former slaves and had nothing to do with what he calls “modern day gate crashers,” referring to undocumented immigrants. While it’s true that the 14th Amendment was passed in the aftermath of the Civil War to ensure citizenship for freed slaves, its language—“All persons born or naturalized in the United States”—was intentionally broad and has been repeatedly upheld by the Supreme Court to guarantee birthright citizenship regardless of parental immigration status. By ignoring this legal precedent, including the landmark 1898 case United States v. Wong Kim Ark, Trump distorts constitutional reality to fit a political narrative.
Furthermore, the language used in the post is inflammatory and dehumanizing. Referring to immigrants as “gate crashers” and accusing them of “breaking the Law” by simply being in the country oversimplifies the complexities of immigration law and serves to vilify rather than inform. Trump also makes the inaccurate claim that “no Nation in the World has anything like this,” despite the fact that several countries—including Canada and Mexico—also practice birthright citizenship. His call for judges and lawyers to “be tough” and “protect America” suggests an expectation that the judiciary should prioritize political loyalty over constitutional duty, which undermines the independence of the legal system. Finally, the appeal to the Founding Fathers—claiming they would be “spinning in their graves”—is emotionally charged but legally irrelevant, as the 14th Amendment was adopted nearly a century after the Constitution was written precisely to expand and clarify American citizenship.
The post prioritizes political provocation over constitutional accuracy. It appeals to nationalist sentiment while spreading misinformation about the scope and intent of the 14th Amendment.