What Did Donald Trump Do Today?
March 24, 2025 Recap
Jeffrey Goldberg, editor-in-chief of The Atlantic, was inadvertently added to a highly sensitive Signal group chat where senior Trump administration officials—including Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth and National Security Adviser Michael Waltz—discussed and coordinated imminent U.S. military strikes against Houthi targets in Yemen. The chat included real-time updates, operational details (such as timing, targets, and weapons), and internal policy disagreements—most notably from Vice President J.D. Vance—regarding the attack's strategic rationale and potential consequences.
Goldberg initially suspected a hoax or disinformation operation due to the surreal nature of receiving such classified communications. But the realism of the exchanges and the eventual confirmation that bombs did fall in Yemen at the predicted time led him to conclude the chat was authentic. He later received confirmation from the National Security Council that the Signal thread was real and that his inclusion was accidental.
The article highlights serious national security, legal, and procedural violations, including potential breaches of the Espionage Act, misuse of the Signal app to coordinate military action, and failure to adhere to federal records laws. Officials shared sensitive information on an unsecured platform, failed to notice Goldberg's presence in the group, and set some messages to disappear, further complicating recordkeeping and oversight.
Ultimately, the incident exposes a reckless lack of operational security and discipline at the highest levels of national security under the Trump administration.
Speaker Mike Johnson’s response to the Signal group chat leak involving National Security Adviser Mike Waltz and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth reflects a troubling lack of urgency and accountability in matters of national security. Brushing off the incident as a mere mistake—an “inadvertent phone number” accidentally added to a sensitive thread—Johnson prioritized public relations over the gravity of the breach itself.
Rather than acknowledging the recklessness of senior Trump officials using an encrypted messaging app to coordinate military operations, Johnson praised them for "doing their job" and pointed to the "success" of the Houthi strike as justification. This suggests a dangerously superficial understanding of national security protocol—one that equates tactical success with procedural adequacy. Success in an operation should not excuse the exposure of operational details to an outside civilian, especially a journalist with a global platform.
The fact that The Atlantic's editor-in-chief, Jeffrey Goldberg, was mistakenly looped into a group chat where officials discussed real-time plans for a military offensive—and received classified-style messages from Hegseth—should have triggered serious concerns about the chain of command, cybersecurity protocols, and basic communication discipline. Instead, Johnson offered deflection: “I’m not gonna characterize what happened.”
More concerning is the administration's continued confidence in Waltz and Hegseth, as echoed by Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt. Her statement celebrated the effectiveness of the strike while ignoring the potential damage that could have resulted had this information fallen into the hands of a hostile actor. Even the National Security Council, while admitting the chain appeared authentic, framed the leak as evidence of “deep and thoughtful policy coordination,” a spin that borders on absurd given the breach's nature.
President Trump’s response only deepened the farcical tone. Claiming ignorance of the entire incident and quickly pivoting to an attack on The Atlantic, Trump showed little interest in how national security might have been compromised under his watch. His apparent unfamiliarity with a security leak involving his own national security team is an indictment of his leadership style: reactive, dismissive, and unconcerned with operational discipline.
The administration’s casual handling of the breach—combined with Johnson’s nonchalant remarks—reveals a government more interested in narrative control than institutional integrity. The incident should have prompted internal reviews, heightened security protocols, and public assurance of corrective action. Instead, it’s been met with shrugs, spin, and celebration of a military outcome achieved through dangerously sloppy means.
Donald Trump held a cabinet meeting that prominently featured Elon Musk, which served more as a political showcase than a serious policy session. Framed around rooting out government waste, fraud, and abuse, the event was marked by disjointed commentary, ideological grievance, and performative back-patting. Trump dominated the discussion with rambling, stream-of-consciousness monologues that jumped between topics such as tariffs, manufacturing, education reform, border security, and even the price of eggs. The lack of structure and clarity made it difficult to discern concrete policy initiatives from rhetorical noise.
Elon Musk’s participation was framed as both symbol and savior. He was credited with helping federal agencies uncover fraud and streamline operations, yet no evidence or methodology was provided to support these sweeping claims. Trump repeatedly praised Musk for never asking for anything in return, positioning him as a patriotic outsider helping “save America.” The repeated insistence on Musk’s selflessness came off as defensive and unnecessarily rehearsed. Despite Musk’s prominence, his role seemed more about political optics than meaningful governance.
Several officials cited examples of canceled contracts they deemed wasteful or fraudulent—most notably, survey projects costing hundreds of millions and education programs aimed at marginalized communities. However, these anecdotes were laced with ideological bias and lacked transparency or auditing credibility. Rather than present clear financial breakdowns or investigative protocols, speakers relied on cultural wedge issues to frame bureaucratic mismanagement as moral outrage.
Claims of widespread fraud—such as babies receiving SBA loans or employees who “don’t exist”—were presented without supporting data. Assertions of mass firings and cost savings in the billions were similarly unsubstantiated. These points served as applause lines rather than deliverables. Meanwhile, Trump floated major shifts in education policy, advocating for eliminating the federal Department of Education and transferring authority to the states. He described “shipping records” to states like Iowa and Indiana with no mention of the infrastructure, privacy safeguards, or educational equity challenges such a transfer would entail.
Economic commentary was similarly shallow. Trump and his officials claimed inflation was under control, groceries were cheaper, and interest rates were falling—largely due to deregulation and tariff threats. However, these declarations lacked any empirical context or reference to independent data. Wild projections, like Apple supposedly investing $500 billion in U.S. manufacturing, were stated as fact without citation. Tariffs were celebrated as a new “external revenue” source to offset internal taxation, a dubious economic concept presented with unwarranted confidence.
Border security was another cornerstone of the meeting, touted as a resounding success. Trump and Homeland Security officials claimed near-total operational control and a sharp increase in deportations. The language leaned heavily on fear, with references to criminals, murderers, and “stone-cold killers,” yet lacked corroboration or metrics. These updates were delivered in a tone more appropriate for campaign rallies than measured governance.
The meeting’s foreign policy moments were centered on Ukraine and the Middle East. Trump and allies like Marco Rubio painted the former president as the only global figure capable of brokering peace, insisting that the Russia-Ukraine war would never have happened under his watch. While diplomatic engagement is a valid objective, the messaging was drenched in self-aggrandizement and simplified geopolitical narratives. The Abraham Accords were invoked as a missed opportunity under Biden, with promises to reignite them under Trump’s “new leadership.”
The cabinet meeting revealed an administration focused more on image management, political theater, and ideological talking points than coherent governance. Though framed as a transparent effort to root out waste and restore order, it lacked factual grounding, policy specifics, and credible oversight mechanisms. The praise of Elon Musk, the celebration of punitive immigration policies, and the exaggerated economic optimism all served to reinforce a central message: this is a government defined not by accountability or competence but by loyalty to Trump and the spectacle of disruption.
Donald Trump’s Truth Social post announcing Alina Habba as the interim U.S. Attorney for the District of New Jersey is deeply problematic, both in terms of legal authority and democratic norms. First and foremost, the announcement itself appears to bypass the formal processes required for such an appointment. U.S. Attorneys—whether permanent or interim—are typically nominated through established legal channels involving the Department of Justice and, in most cases, Senate confirmation.
The selection of Alina Habba, his longtime personal attorney and current “Counselor to the President,” raises serious concerns about the politicization of the justice system. Prosecutors are meant to operate independently, with a commitment to impartial justice. Appointing someone with no known prosecutorial experience but with a clear record of personal loyalty to Trump sends a message that political allegiance—not legal expertise—is the key qualification for wielding federal prosecutorial power. This move blurs the already thin line between Trump’s personal legal battles and the machinery of government.
Furthermore, the language used in the post leans heavily on personal praise and vague generalities about fairness and justice while offering no substantive justification for Habba’s fitness for the role. It reads more like campaign propaganda than a serious personnel announcement. Adding to this is the reassignment of John Giordano—described vaguely as having done a “terrific job”—to the ambassadorship in Namibia. No credentials or relevant experience are offered, making the post sound more like a rewards list for loyal service than a set of strategic government appointments.
Overall, this announcement exemplifies the dangers of a political style prioritizing loyalty over competence and personal interest over institutional integrity. If taken seriously, it reflects a vision of government where critical roles in justice and diplomacy are reduced to instruments of political favor rather than public service functions.
The Trump administration has asked the Supreme Court to block a judge's ruling that requires the rehiring of approximately 16,000 federal probationary employees who were fired as part of an effort to drastically reduce the federal workforce.
U.S. District Judge William Alsup found the terminations violated federal law and ordered that reinstatement offers be made while the legal challenge continues. His ruling targeted six major agencies and criticized the government for trying to bypass legal procedures by dismissing probationary workers under false pretenses—many of whom had previously received strong performance reviews.
The administration’s emergency appeal argues that the judge overstepped his authority and that the plaintiffs, including labor unions and nonprofits, lacked standing. It also urges the conservative-majority Supreme Court to limit what it calls judicial overreach, as lower courts have repeatedly blocked Trump’s agenda on various issues, from immigration to civil rights.
The case is one of several legal battles that may end up before a Supreme Court shaped by Trump’s own appointments.
A federal judge has rejected the Trump administration’s attempt to use the Alien Enemies Act (AEA)—an 18th-century wartime law—to deport individuals to a Salvadoran hard labor prison without due process.
Judge James Boasberg ruled against lifting a court order that bars the use of the AEA for deportations, citing the public interest in preventing wrongful deportations based on unchallengeable categorizations. He emphasized that individual hearings are constitutionally required before deportation under the AEA can occur.
The Trump administration has claimed it is targeting members of Tren de Aragua, a transnational criminal group, but Boasberg noted that these individuals were already deportable under existing terrorism laws—making the use of the AEA redundant and constitutionally questionable.
Boasberg’s ruling, which supports plaintiffs represented by the ACLU and Democracy Forward, states they are likely to win on due process grounds. He clarified that his order only blocks deportations under the AEA, not under other immigration laws.
The administration and its allies responded fiercely: Trump and supporters called for Boasberg’s impeachment, and Attorney General Pam Bondi accused the judge of “supporting terrorism.”
Meanwhile, plaintiffs argue that many deportees were not gang members and face torture or death in El Salvador. The administration maintains those deported were a threat, yet admitted many lacked U.S. criminal records and that officials did not have “specific information about each individual.”
Donald Trump gave remarks in a meeting centered around Hyundai Motor Group’s significant $5.8 billion investment in a steel manufacturing plant in Louisiana, framing it as a testament to his administration's economic policies—particularly tariffs and his "America First" agenda. While the event was intended as a celebratory economic milestone, Trump's messaging was often self-congratulatory, emphasizing personal achievements and electoral promises more than clearly outlining economic implications or strategic policy considerations.
Trump frequently diverted into political talking points—criticizing the previous administration’s policies on foreign affairs and election integrity—detracting somewhat from the event's primary purpose. His remarks about tariffs were broad and lacked detail on potential economic consequences, reflecting his tendency to oversimplify complex trade issues into rhetorical victories.
Hyundai's executives' remarks offered a contrast: concise, direct, and strategic. They clearly articulated the scope of their investment, its intended benefits for American industry and job creation, and specific commitments, such as increased U.S. production and energy partnerships. Hyundai executives' clarity and business-oriented tone starkly contrasted with Trump's more generalized and politically charged commentary.
Governor Jeff Landry’s speech effectively reinforced Trump's narrative, aligning closely with the administration’s messaging on economic policy. Speaker Mike Johnson and Majority Leader Steve Scalise also heavily praised the administration, framing economic success almost exclusively as a consequence of Trump's leadership.
Trump’s responses to questions, particularly regarding reciprocal tariffs and sensitive internal matters (e.g., accusations of cabinet officials using Signal), were dismissive and somewhat evasive. His quick deflection from policy-specific questions toward broader political grievances—such as claims about "dishonest elections"—further reinforced an overall impression of mixing official state business with political campaigning.
President Trump's presentation diluted its impact by blending personal political rhetoric with official government messaging, potentially diminishing the perceived seriousness and effectiveness of the administration’s economic policies.
Donald Trump's remarks during the 2025 Greek Independence Day celebration at the White House were a mix of cultural tribute, political theater, and personal spotlighting. While he succeeded in recognizing the historical ties between Greece and the United States—particularly the shared democratic ideals stemming from ancient Greece and reflected in the American founding—the address was frequently sidetracked by self-congratulatory rhetoric and campaign-style commentary. The President opened with a nod to Greek-American contributions and the significance of March 25, 1821, but quickly pivoted to touting his own economic accomplishments, the success of his administration, and his claimed reelection, repeatedly referencing "four lost years" and asserting the country was now doing "better than ever."
Though individual acknowledgments were well-received—such as honoring Greek-American hero Alex Skarlatos and entrepreneur Steve Valandis—Trump often used these moments to redirect attention back to himself or his political allies. The ceremonial presentation of a cross by Archbishop Elpidophoros, which was meant as a solemn gesture linking Trump to Emperor Constantine, was met with a casual, almost flippant response, which undercut the gravity of the moment. Further undercutting the formality was the President’s habit of joking with guests, commenting on who he liked or didn’t, and calling out audience members by name in a manner more befitting a rally than a diplomatic event.
The partisan undertones were especially evident in Kimberly Guilfoyle’s remarks, in which she praised Trump as “the most important powerful president” and celebrated his leadership in overtly political terms. Her appearance concluded with chants of “Four more years,” further transforming the event into a campaign platform rather than a unifying national observance. Ultimately, while the President maintained the tradition of honoring Greek Independence Day, the solemnity of the occasion was often overshadowed by his instinct to turn ceremonial moments into extensions of personal branding and political performance.
Donald Trump’s announcement of Dr. Susan Monarez as his nominee for Director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reads more like a campaign pitch than a professional endorsement. In a Truth Social post, he emphasized buzzwords such as “Innovation,” “Transparency,” and the rallying cry to “MAKE AMERICA HEALTHY AGAIN,” framing the nomination as part of a broader political narrative rather than a strictly public health decision. The characterization of Monarez as an “incredible mother” and “dedicated public servant” paired with Trump’s glowing reference to Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.—a polarizing figure in the medical community—signals an intent to restore public trust in the CDC through ideological alignment rather than institutional reform.
While Dr. Monarez holds strong academic credentials, including a Ph.D. in Microbiology and Immunology and postdoctoral training at Stanford, her lack of a medical degree and her status as an outsider to the CDC’s traditional leadership pipeline mark a significant break from precedent. Her recent appointment as acting CDC director and previous role at the Advanced Research Projects Agency for Health suggest she brings research and administrative experience but not the depth of public health leadership that has historically defined CDC heads. The White House’s decision to pivot away from Dr. David Weldon—whose nomination was pulled amid concerns over Senate confirmation—and to bypass other potential candidates like Michael Burgess and Joseph Ladapo further underscores the politically calculated nature of this pick.
Monarez will be the first CDC director to face Senate confirmation following a 2022 policy change, opening the door to a more rigorous and public vetting process. That process is likely to spotlight her role in a number of controversial agency decisions in recent months, including undermining the independence of the CDC’s flagship research publication, delaying meetings of vaccine advisory committees, and greenlighting research into debunked links between vaccines and autism. These actions have raised concerns among health professionals who fear the agency is bending to anti-science narratives promoted by RFK Jr. and others in Trump’s orbit.
Monarez’s involvement in expected workforce reductions at the CDC is equally troubling, with some reports anticipating cuts as high as 30%. At a time when the country is facing a surge in measles cases and other public health threats, such downsizing could have dire consequences for the agency’s ability to respond effectively. Coupled with Kennedy’s controversial public comments on vaccine safety and virus management, Monarez’s appointment suggests a CDC leadership more responsive to political directives than to scientific consensus.
Dr. Susan Monarez may meet the technical bar for the position, but her nomination reflects a broader pattern of politicizing public health under the Trump administration. Her alignment with RFK Jr., participation in recent CDC controversies, and outsider status within the agency point to a leadership approach that prioritizes ideological control over independent, evidence-based public health policy.
Sources: Truth Social, CBS News
Donald Trump issued an executive order titled Imposing Tariffs on Countries Importing Venezuelan Oil. The order imposes tariffs on countries that import Venezuelan oil, representing a significant escalation in the use of economic coercion as a foreign policy tool. While framed as a necessary response to the ongoing national emergency related to Venezuela and the transnational threat posed by the Tren de Aragua gang, the order overreaches in both its scope and execution. The administration introduces a broad and punitive measure that risks alienating key trading partners and destabilizing global markets by threatening to impose a sweeping 25% tariff on all goods from any country—ally or adversary—that imports Venezuelan oil directly or indirectly. The policy lacks nuance, treating energy-dependent democracies and authoritarian regimes with equal suspicion and offering no clear diplomatic path forward for countries caught in the crossfire.
The order heavily politicizes national security concerns by linking the presence of Venezuelan criminal elements in the U.S. to the “prior administration’s open-borders policies,” turning a complex international security issue into a vehicle for domestic partisan attacks. This undermines the order's credibility and injects campaign-style rhetoric into matters of global consequence. Furthermore, the executive order grants sweeping discretionary powers to the Secretary of State and other cabinet officials to determine tariff targets and enforcement without establishing transparent criteria or processes. This vagueness raises concerns about arbitrariness and inconsistency in application, making compliance difficult for multinational companies and creating potential for diplomatic fallout.
Economically, the strategy may prove counterproductive. Maduro’s regime has shown remarkable resilience in the face of years of escalating sanctions, and this additional layer of economic pressure is unlikely to alter its core behavior—particularly when key global players like China or Russia are unlikely to bow to U.S. pressure. By potentially penalizing these nations with tariffs, the U.S. risks deepening geopolitical divides and encouraging further entrenchment of anti-American alliances. Moreover, the lack of defined benchmarks or success metrics leaves the efficacy of the policy in question, with only vague reporting requirements every 180 days to assess progress.
The execution of this order reflects a heavy-handed and politically charged approach. It blurs the lines between economic policy, immigration politics, and national security, all while risking diplomatic damage and economic uncertainty.
Vice President JD Vance’s speech at the Third American Dynamism Summit was a politically charged attempt to unify two often conflicting constituencies: populist workers and tech-sector innovators. He framed American innovation not just as an economic necessity but as a patriotic mission, using historical references—from WWII shipbuilding to Pope John Paul II—to underscore the idea that technology should elevate labor rather than replace it. Vance’s effort to bridge the perceived divide between “tech optimists” and the “populist right” was rhetorically ambitious, casting both groups as victims of a government that has failed them over the past 40 years through overregulation, offshoring, and a dependency on cheap labor.
While the speech was rich in patriotic imagery and clear in its political intent, it struggled under the weight of ideological contradictions and oversimplifications. Vance repeatedly caricatured past leadership and the tech elite—claiming President Biden was largely asleep at the wheel and mocking a Silicon Valley CEO for suggesting immersive gaming could replace job-related purpose. These anecdotes, while provocative, offered little constructive dialogue. More significantly, his economic argument relied heavily on a binary view of globalization, suggesting that America must either make things at home or be left behind, ignoring the complexity and necessity of global supply chains in advanced industries.
Vance’s historical analogies, such as the ATM increasing bank teller productivity, glossed over the harsher realities of automation in recent decades, where displaced workers have often not been absorbed into higher-wage, more meaningful roles. His proposal to combat this centers almost exclusively on bringing back manufacturing jobs through tax cuts, deregulation, and tariffs—policies that may stimulate certain sectors but fall short of preparing the workforce for a rapidly evolving economy. Notably absent was any serious commitment to worker retraining, education, or long-term human capital investment, all of which are essential if the goal is to rebuild middle-class stability through innovation.
The speech was marked by an incoherent philosophy of governance. Vance simultaneously attacked federal overreach and championed aggressive government intervention through trade policy, tax code manipulation, and border enforcement. This contradiction—demanding less government interference while calling for sweeping central industrial policy—was never resolved. His vision for American AI and tech leadership was also disappointingly vague. He invoked buzzwords like artificial intelligence and hard tech without outlining a concrete innovation strategy or addressing the global nature of research and development. His exclusionary nationalism—calling for immigration restrictions and domestic-only investment incentives—overlooks how critical international collaboration and talent are to maintaining American leadership in emerging technologies.
Ultimately, Vance delivered an intellectually uneven address. By leaning too hard on culture war tropes and failing to engage with the complexity of modern technological and labor dynamics, the speech misses a critical opportunity to present a serious roadmap for aligning innovation with broadly shared prosperity. It is a speech heavy on patriotism and critique but light on the rigorous policy thinking required to sustain the dynamism it celebrates.
Hill Air Force Base in Utah has closed one of its two child development centers (CDCs), affecting 31 military and civilian families due to staffing shortages linked to hiring freezes under President Trump's administration. The freeze—supported by Trump and adviser Elon Musk's efforts to reduce the federal workforce—compounded high turnover issues. Despite a Department of Defense memo later exempting childcare positions from the freeze, the exemption came too late for Hill.
Affected families were given only one week's notice, prompting criticism from military family advocates who say such short notice is unmanageable and harms service members' ability to fulfill their duties. Impacted families include active-duty personnel, reservists, Gold Star spouses, and defense contractors.
The closure follows a troubling history at Hill's daycare facilities, including a previous case where 37 children were allegedly abused, highlighting broader oversight and staffing failures across military childcare programs.
Lawyers hired by the Venezuelan government filed a habeas corpus petition in El Salvador’s Supreme Court on behalf of 238 Venezuelans deported by the U.S. and held in a Salvadoran maximum-security prison. The petition, led by attorney Jaime Ortega, demands the Salvadoran government justify the detentions, which stem from U.S. claims that the migrants are part of the Tren de Aragua gang—labeled an invading force under an obscure 18th-century wartime law by the Trump administration.
The Salvadoran government has remained silent on the detainees' status despite a U.S. judge’s order to reverse the deportations. The Venezuelan legal team argues their clients have no gang ties or criminal records and were wrongfully imprisoned.
This arrangement comes after Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele offered to house U.S. deportees and even convicted citizens in exchange for U.S. funding—an agreement now facing legal scrutiny for potentially violating due process and international norms.
The Trump administration has abruptly terminated at least 68 research grants—worth nearly $40 million—largely focused on LGBTQ health, HIV prevention, cancer, youth suicide, and other issues affecting sexual minorities. The cuts, made through the National Institutes of Health (NIH), have impacted 46 institutions and halted critical studies, including a prominent project at Vanderbilt University tracking the health of older LGBTQ adults.
Officials claim the move is part of an effort to return to “evidence-based” science, dismissing some projects as “unscientific” or irrelevant to the health of "many Americans." Researchers, however, argue the decision is politically motivated and undermines valuable scientific discovery. Critics warn that the cancellations will disrupt public health, cost jobs, and erase years of progress in LGBTQ-related research.
Experts emphasize that findings from these studies benefit marginalized communities and the general population, and the loss threatens a generation of scientists and data crucial to preventive care and medical training.