Commentary: As we age and our cognitive abilities diminish, often it's not the mistakes we make but our overreactions to them that really give us away.
Like Donald Trump getting confused about where Alabama was. No big deal. I laughed; but I also wondered if I could still fill in all the state-names in the right spots on the wordless maps Southwest Airlines used to have on napkins. I guessed I could, taking my time; but if someone else couldn't, so what?
But the Donald couldn't just laugh and shake his head and correct himself.
Trump was talking about Hurricane Dorian, mistakenly announcing it would harm Alabama. Huge hurricanes have huge consequences, including evacuations and even deaths. So correcting himself, to avoid confusing the South Carolinians facing possible disaster or scaring Alabamians into various unnecessary actions – would have been a significant kindness. But the Donald didn't do that.
This wasn't “my crowd was bigger than Obama's” or “I know more about climate change than anyone,” but garbling an urgent message to people facing danger.
As usual – though more absurdly and dangerously – he doubled down. He made misleading statements and provided a sharpie-altered map, and his minions gave U.S. Weather Service personnel a hard time for correcting him publicly. Yeah, they had some duty to give clear information about who was in danger and who wasn't; but to the Donald, establishing beyond peradventure that he hadn't erred was more important than little folks' lives and safety.
Trump isn't saying “models are models, you can never be sure.” He's insisting that as Dorian approached the U.S., and the models showed the hurricane passing near Florida's east coast, he was right to tell Alabama, on Florida's west, that it was in grave danger. However, all that stuff is easily verifiable. Two days before Trump spoke, the authorities agreed the storm would pass east of Florida, maybe touching it, then head north.
None of this is particularly interesting. Me driving to the Pan American Center to watch basketball isn't interesting. Nor is turning the wrong way at University and Espina; but if, having watched basketball there since 1969, I haven't a clue how to get there, that could be troubling. If I get agitated and insist the basketball arena used to be over by Denny's, or that the City keeps changing all the street names, I have a problem.
In a sane world, where everyone wasn't rooting so passionately for his or her political team that rational discussion was impossible, this might be the moment many would finally say, “Aha! I see. This dude simply isn't presidential material. He doesn't have the temperament or character for it; and he might be dangerously 'round the bend.”
As one Republican who served in the White House under Reagan and both Bushes wrote, “Trump is not well.” How unwell is he? I'm neither a shrink nor in personal contact with Mr. Trump; but this incident reinforces widespread reports that his staff and friends are more concerned than ever about his cognition and temperament.
These aren't political observations, although they'll be construed as such. This isn't about policy differences over progressive tax rates, medical care, or climate change. It's not about whether or not Republican policies or appointments pose long-term dangers to our environment, economy, and international standing. It's about ascertaining the facts and assessing whether Trump's mental condition poses a more immediate and insidious threat.