What Did Donald Trump Do Today?
Weekend Recap: May 31-June 1, 2025
Donald Trump's Pittsburgh rally speech announcing a 50% steel tariff increase and celebrating the Nippon Steel–U.S. Steel deal was a chaotic mixture of populist theater, economic exaggeration, and self-glorification. While intended to showcase a major industrial policy moment, the speech frequently lost focus due to Trump’s meandering delivery, personal anecdotes, and endless shout-outs to local supporters, athletes, and political allies. What should have been a clear economic message was diluted by digressions about tariffs being his “favorite word,” crowd praise, and off-topic grievances about immigration, crime, and the media. The central claim—that the Nippon Steel acquisition would somehow preserve U.S. Steel’s American identity—was fundamentally misleading. Though Trump praised Japanese leadership and insisted the company would remain “American,” the reality is that control is now in foreign hands. His framing ignored the complexities of foreign investment, raising concerns about oversight and long-term labor commitments that were never addressed.
Trump also made sweeping economic claims that defied verification. He touted “$11 trillion in new investment,” claimed the trade deficit had already been halved within months, and boasted that gasoline prices had returned to 2003 levels. These figures lacked any supporting data and appeared to be invented for rhetorical impact. He exaggerated the effects of his earlier tariffs, insisting they single-handedly saved the steel industry, while ignoring the mixed outcomes of protectionist policies, including higher costs for downstream manufacturers. His promotion of tariffs as a cure-all, including his offhand assertion that he raised them because the executives “wanted 50%,” displayed a cavalier approach to economic policy. The speech portrayed tariffs not as a policy tool, but as a kind of populist moral weapon, reflecting Trump’s broader habit of turning complex policy into personal loyalty tests.
Much of the event was filled with emotional appeals and theatrical symbolism rather than substantive policy explanation. Trump was given a Steelers jersey, declared himself an honorary member of the team, and brought multiple steelworkers onstage for testimonies that felt more like campaign endorsements than policy testimonials. He positioned himself as the savior of the steel industry while casting the Biden administration and Democrats as existential threats to American workers. His claims that over 11,000 murderers had been allowed into the country and that Democrats were enabling this were presented without evidence, relying instead on stoking fear and resentment. These inflammatory remarks blurred the line between economic rally and political grievance festival.
The proposed “One Big Beautiful Bill” mentioned throughout the speech appeared to be a legislative catch-all filled with unvetted promises: tax deductions on car loan interest (but only for cars made with U.S. steel), a $1,000 “Trump account” for every newborn, a ban on taxes for Social Security income and tips, and a permanent expansion of the child tax credit. Trump offered no fiscal details on how these proposals would be paid for or passed, and his warning that failure to pass the bill would result in a “68% tax increase” was pure fiction. The speech functioned more as a campaign wishlist than a serious legislative blueprint.
Trump’s Pittsburgh rally served as a symbolic reclamation of working-class industrial pride wrapped in spectacle and self-mythologizing. The speech failed to meaningfully grapple with the implications of foreign corporate ownership, the real costs of tariff escalation, or the feasibility of Trump’s sweeping economic promises.
Donald Trump shared a post on Truth Social that is a disturbing illustration of the disinformation ecosystem that has taken root in segments of American political discourse. Originating from the user @lligh, the post claims that “there is no Joe Biden” and that he was “executed in 2020” is not only completely fabricated but also steeped in the kinds of conspiratorial fantasy propagated by groups like QAnon. The suggestion that the former President of the United States is actually a combination of clones, body doubles, or “robotic engineered soulless mindless entities” is not satire, but a form of weaponized unreality meant to undermine the public’s confidence in empirical truth, legitimate leadership, and democratic continuity. There is absolutely no evidence—medical, photographic, behavioral, or logistical—to support such a claim. Joe Biden served a full term as President from 2021 to 2025, regularly appearing in public, engaging in live press conferences, delivering speeches, and participating in domestic and international diplomacy. At no point during his presidency did any reputable medical or intelligence agency suggest that Biden had been replaced by an artificial duplicate or a clone. These claims are not grounded in reality—they are political science fiction masquerading as truth.
The language used in the post is overtly dehumanizing and meant to evoke revulsion and fear, referring to alleged “soulless” and “mindless” entities. This sort of rhetoric is not about critiquing policies or political leadership; it is about eliminating the legitimacy of opponents through character assassination and mythmaking. Describing a former president in such terms—especially one who was democratically elected and governed for four years—crosses a line into propaganda designed to radicalize rather than inform.
The final claim, that “Democrats don’t know the difference,” further reveals the post’s goal: not only to delegitimize Joe Biden’s presidency, but to paint all Democratic voters as gullible or complicit in a supposed cover-up. It reduces millions of Americans to caricatures and suggests mass deception on a scale that is neither plausible nor supported by any verifiable evidence. This is not political satire or fringe theorizing—it’s a calculated attack on shared reality and democratic participation.
Most troubling of all is Trump’s decision to amplify this post while serving as the sitting president. Sharing content that claims non-human imposters replaced his predecessor is not only beneath the dignity of the office, but it also validates extremist worldviews that have already led to real-world threats and violence. As president, Trump has the power to shape national dialogue. Choosing to use that power to platform delusional and debunked conspiracies signals a continued willingness to prioritize spectacle and division over truth and responsibility. At a time when the country needs leadership rooted in reality and civic trust, this kind of post does the opposite—it fuels confusion, paranoia, and contempt.
In a late morning Truth Social post, Donald Trump’s warning that a court ruling against his tariff policies would lead to the “economic ruination of the United States” is a textbook example of political fearmongering and hyperbole. The suggestion that judicial oversight of tariffs could destroy the U.S. economy grossly exaggerates the role that any single policy tool plays in national economic health. Courts are tasked with evaluating the legality of executive actions, not with ensuring policy outcomes favorable to the president. Portraying their potential rulings as existential threats undermines the basic principles of judicial independence and constitutional checks and balances.
The post also rests on flawed logic. It implies that if courts curtail the president’s tariff powers, other countries will be free to “hold our Nation hostage” through retaliatory tariffs. In reality, foreign governments already respond to U.S. tariff decisions with their own trade measures when they believe international rules have been violated, regardless of what U.S. courts decide. This is the nature of modern trade relations, governed by multilateral agreements, dispute resolution mechanisms, and diplomatic negotiation, not by unilateral strength alone. Moreover, Trump provides no specifics about what kind of legal decision he fears, leaving the post vague and emotionally charged rather than grounded in substantive policy critique.
Finally, Trump’s framing of the issue casts foreign nations as inherently hostile and American courts as potential enablers of that hostility, which reflects a broader tendency in his rhetoric to conflate legal constraint with weakness. Rather than offering a reasoned defense of his tariff strategy or addressing legitimate legal challenges, the post seeks to discredit the courts and rally support through alarmism preemptively. It is not a serious argument about trade or law—it is a politicized narrative designed to stoke fear and delegitimize judicial authority.
White House Economic Council Director Kevin Hassett appeared on the ABC News program This Week with George Stephanopoulos. The interview revealed substantial weaknesses in the Trump administration’s economic messaging and policy coherence, particularly on tariffs, inflation, and market behavior. Hassett repeatedly deflected fundamental economic concerns raised by Stephanopoulos, often resorting to circular logic and misleading assertions. For example, he dismissed the widespread consensus among economists, including those from Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan, and the Federal Reserve, that tariffs would raise consumer prices. Instead, he claimed, without convincing evidence, that foreign producers would absorb the costs due to “inelastic supply,” a notion that grossly oversimplified the realities of global trade and ignored data showing price increases in affected goods.
Throughout the interview, Hassett leaned on rhetorical diversions rather than direct answers. When pressed on President Trump’s Truth Social post suggesting a stock market drop was part of a strategy to force the Federal Reserve to lower interest rates, Hassett avoided giving a clear response. He first insisted that the president was merely expressing an opinion, then pivoted to unrelated themes, such as job creation and economic nationalism, ultimately failing to address the post’s implications for market confidence and central bank independence.
When confronted with internal Republican criticism—particularly Senator Rand Paul’s statement that tariffs function as taxes on American consumers—Hassett responded with a non-sequitur about planned tax cuts and budget reforms. This did not counter the basic economic reality that tariffs often result in higher prices for U.S. consumers. His convoluted “apple tree” analogy only muddled the issue further, lacking both clarity and empirical grounding.
Hassett’s justification for excluding Russia from the new tariffs also revealed inconsistencies. He cited sensitive peace negotiations related to Ukraine as the rationale for withholding tariffs; yet, no such exemptions were extended to U.S. allies, such as Canada, the EU, or Mexico. This selective approach highlighted the political motivations behind the policy, undermining any claims of a principled, strategic framework.
When asked about Fed Chair Jerome Powell’s warnings of higher inflation and slower growth, Hassett reverted to partisan blame-shifting, accusing Biden-era fiscal policy of fueling inflation while promoting Trump-era tax cuts and deregulation as a remedy. This contradicted both recent economic trends and basic fiscal logic, suggesting a reliance on political spin rather than honest analysis.
In summary, Hassett’s appearance illustrated a broader pattern within the administration: resistance to economic consensus, evasive communication, and an inconsistent application of policy logic. His inability—or unwillingness—to reconcile campaign promises with economic reality exposed the administration to scrutiny not only from journalists but also from economists and lawmakers across the ideological spectrum.
The interview between CNN's Dana Bash and OMB Director Russ Vought revealed a stark collision between an aggressive ideological agenda and long-standing norms of constitutional governance. Vought, presented as the driving force behind President Trump’s effort to radically reshape the federal government, defended the administration’s use of executive power to retroactively cancel or delay spending already approved by Congress—an approach that challenged both legal precedent and the Constitution’s separation of powers. Bash appropriately pressed Vought on the apparent conflict between these actions and the 1974 Impoundment Control Act, a post-Watergate reform explicitly designed to prevent the executive from bypassing Congress’s budgetary authority. Vought’s assertion that “pocket rescissions” and historical precedent provided sufficient legal cover rang hollow, especially given his dismissive tone toward Congress’s constitutionally enshrined power of the purse.
Throughout the exchange, Vought made clear that his objective went beyond mere fiscal conservatism; he framed his role as part of a broader ideological crusade against the federal bureaucracy. His past remarks about wanting government workers to feel “trauma” were indicative of this mindset, and his attempts to downplay them as anti-bureaucratic rhetoric failed to disguise the hostility toward civil servants and institutional stability. Bash’s decision to bring these comments to light and to connect them to Project 2025—a blueprint for consolidating executive authority and dismantling key government functions—helped underscore the radical nature of Vought’s vision.
When confronted with bipartisan criticism over proposed Medicaid cuts and concerns about deficit expansion, Vought resorted to technical arguments about budget baselines and improper spending. His claim that no one would lose coverage as a result of the legislation contradicted warnings from constituents and Republican senators, such as Josh Hawley, whose concerns highlighted the human cost of Vought’s policy prescriptions. His characterization of community outrage as “astroturf” only further underscored his detachment from the public impact of his policies.
Vought also attempted to distance the Trump administration from Project 2025, insisting that President Trump was the true architect of the administration’s agenda and that any overlap with the project was coincidental. However, Bash effectively countered this narrative by citing a checklist of Project 2025 proposals—many of which had already been enacted or were in progress—including defunding PBS and NPR. Her closing questions, referencing proposals to eliminate the Federal Reserve and ban medication abortion, demonstrated the extreme and destabilizing ambitions of the project.
The interview laid bare the constitutional tensions and social risks embedded in Vought’s approach to governance. Bash’s persistent and well-researched questioning exposed the fragile legal rationales, the ideological intensity, and the human consequences of a political agenda cloaked in the language of budgetary discipline. What emerged was less a conversation about fiscal policy and more a case study in how executive overreach and radical restructuring were being normalized within the Trump administration.
Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent appeared on Face the Nation with Margaret Brennan in an interview that revealed a defensive, occasionally evasive tone from a top economic official navigating an increasingly tense U.S.–China relationship, mounting domestic inflation concerns, and a fragile legislative path for a massive tax and debt package. Throughout the conversation, Bessent repeatedly relied on vague assurances and political talking points rather than offering concrete policy explanations. On China, his attempt to downplay escalation while simultaneously accusing Beijing of withholding critical minerals came off as contradictory. His repeated use of the term "de-risking" sidestepped the reality that the administration has aggressively moved toward decoupling through tariffs, visa revocations, and export controls. Bessent’s hopeful deferral to a future call between Trump and Xi, which has yet to be scheduled, only underscored the current vacuum in diplomatic engagement.
On the domestic front, Bessent’s response to inflation concerns was dismissive and inconsistent. He celebrated a supposed “first drop in inflation in four years,” yet offered no data to substantiate the claim, especially as major retailers warn of looming price hikes tied to tariffs. His portrayal of Walmart and Amazon as examples of consumer stability ignored their limited relevance to critical categories like back-to-school shopping, and his flippant remark that "most Halloween costumes are bought at Home Depot" bordered on absurd in the context of a serious economic discussion. When confronted with Karl Rove’s analysis that tariff costs can't be absorbed without undercutting already slim retail margins, Bessent deflected again, insisting that individual companies would "do what's right for them"—a non-answer that avoided grappling with the broader economic implications for consumers.
On the steel and aluminum tariffs, Bessent prioritized political optics over economic analysis, framing the hike as a morale booster for Trump’s base rather than addressing the likely downstream cost increases in the construction sector. His failure to quantify expected impacts on housing or infrastructure costs revealed a lack of preparedness or willingness to acknowledge trade-offs. Regarding the tax bill and debt ceiling, Bessent offered the contradictory assurance that the U.S. will “never default,” while also admitting that they manipulate the X-date for political leverage. His response to Speaker Johnson’s estimate of a $4–5 trillion increase in debt was evasive and bordered on disingenuous; he shifted blame to the CBO and then introduced speculative tariff revenues and drug pricing savings as counterweights, none of which have been legislatively secured or independently scored.
Bessent’s performance was emblematic of a Treasury Secretary caught between economic reality and political loyalty. His repeated invocation of personal anecdotes, deflections to unnamed future solutions, and optimistic forecasts lacked the analytical rigor expected of the nation’s top economic steward. Margaret Brennan, for her part, maintained focus and effectively challenged inconsistencies, but Bessent’s inability or unwillingness to provide straightforward answers left key policy questions unresolved.
Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick’s interview with Shannon Bream on Fox News Sunday reflected the broader tension in the Trump administration’s second-term trade policy, marked by confident rhetoric and nationalistic framing, but riddled with contradictions and economic consequences. Lutnick repeatedly insisted that the administration was focused on “growing America” and not on isolating China through pressure on foreign allies, despite reporting from The Wall Street Journal that indicated otherwise. His denial of coordinated pressure campaigns rang hollow, especially as he failed to directly address the mechanisms by which the U.S. sought to curtail China’s economic influence globally.
Lutnick dismissed widespread economic concern over tariffs as “fake news,” contradicting both academic consensus and real-world evidence. While polling showed that a majority of Americans believed tariffs were raising prices and hurting the economy, Lutnick leaned on anecdotal wins—such as a $5 billion export deal with the UK—as proof of long-term success. However, he offered little in the way of concrete timelines, metrics, or contingency plans. His defense that tariffs would be absorbed by foreign producers rather than passed onto American consumers ignored basic trade economics and the administration’s own inflation challenges in the prior term.
Moreover, Lutnick’s attempt to ridicule Democratic critiques, particularly his mockery of Senator Schumer’s beer choice, appeared petty and unserious. He offered no substantive avenue for bipartisan cooperation, instead reverting to populist slogans and nationalist talking points. His assertion that “trillions in factories” were being built lacked evidentiary support, and his repeated claim that President Trump’s Truth Social posts were reliable indicators of policy direction revealed a troubling reliance on political messaging over data-driven governance.
Lutnick’s appearance exemplified the administration’s approach to trade policy: defiant, performative, and dismissive of mainstream economic analysis. Rather than reassuring skeptical workers and consumers, he offered vague promises, partisan jabs, and little acknowledgment of the growing economic disruptions playing out at U.S. ports, farms, and factories.
Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth’s address at the Shangri-La Dialogue in Singapore was a sprawling, ideologically loaded, and overtly performative articulation of the Trump administration’s vision for U.S. defense policy in the Indo-Pacific. While intended as a reaffirmation of commitment to regional allies and a demonstration of military resolve, the speech leaned more into political spectacle than coherent strategic doctrine. Hegseth delivered a hyperbolic mix of populist rhetoric, selective historical revisionism, and unnuanced declarations of strength, all wrapped in the aggressive branding of “peace through strength.” It was less a defense summit keynote than a campaign-style paean to President Trump.
The speech suffered from considerable rhetorical inflation. Hegseth’s repeated claims that “President Trump is a man of peace” are difficult to square with the administration’s openly hawkish stance toward China and its routine invocation of military force. Phrases like “we are preparing for war in order to deter war” may resonate with a domestic political audience but sound alarming and self-contradictory in a multilateral setting ostensibly devoted to dialogue and conflict prevention. While deterrence is a valid doctrine, Hegseth's framing — filled with emotionally charged language and barely restrained nationalism — undermined the very diplomatic reassurance he purported to offer.
There were also troubling instances of revisionist history and misrepresentation. Hegseth claimed Trump had restored deterrence lost during the Biden years, citing a litany of global crises that oversimplify complex geopolitical dynamics. The withdrawal from Afghanistan, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and the October 7 Hamas attack on Israel were all used as rhetorical props to paint the Trump administration as a corrective force — a narrative that omits the continuity of foreign policy challenges across administrations and ignores the consequences of Trump-era decisions that weakened U.S. credibility among allies.
Moreover, the speech flirted dangerously with zero-sum logic. Hegseth’s denunciation of “moralistic and preachy foreign policy” and his declaration that the U.S. would not lecture allies on issues like climate change signaled a retreat from values-based diplomacy. While couched in language of “respect for sovereignty,” this approach risks enabling authoritarianism and corruption under the guise of non-interference. It was a dog whistle to populist governments in the region rather than a principled reaffirmation of liberal internationalism.
China was, unsurprisingly, the central antagonist of the speech, portrayed as an aggressive, expansionist, and malicious power on the verge of launching war against Taiwan. While legitimate concerns about Beijing’s military posture and coercive behavior exist, Hegseth’s confrontational tone — including vivid references to amphibious assault rehearsals and water cannon clashes — veered toward fear-mongering. His insistence that “communist China will not invade Taiwan on President Trump’s watch” sounded more like a political promise than a strategic deterrent backed by broad coalition-building.
The speech did touch on important defense initiatives — expanded force posture in the Philippines, missile deployments in Australia, industrial cooperation with India and Australia, and improved interoperability with allies. These tangible steps could have anchored a more serious and restrained presentation. Instead, they were buried beneath layers of sloganeering and militarized bombast.
Finally, Hegseth’s romanticized references to WWII battlegrounds like Iwo Jima and Pearl Harbor felt emotionally manipulative and historically reductionist. Invoking the “sacrifice of warriors” to justify an escalatory regional military posture blurred the line between honoring past service and exploiting history for partisan ends.
Hegseth’s address was less a statesmanlike articulation of American defense policy than a glorified campaign rally disguised as a security summit speech. It elevated personality over policy, assertion over diplomacy, and loyalty to Trump over nuanced strategy. For allies seeking stable, credible leadership in an increasingly volatile region, the performance may have done more to raise eyebrows than reassure.