In the 1990s, millions of Americans gathered daily around their television screens to watch The Jerry Springer Show—a chaotic circus of brawls, public shaming, and emotional carnage masquerading as entertainment. What was thought to be harmless daytime trash TV was, in fact, a prophetic broadcast from the future. They didn’t know it then, but Springer was the rehearsal. America was priming itself for a time when spectacle would swallow reality, and the ringmaster would become president.

Donald Trump is not a fluke. He is the logical outcome of a cultural evolution where attention became currency, conflict became entertainment, and shame became obsolete. A media landscape took shape that rewards outrage and rewards those who master it. It wasn’t a man that was elected; it was a format.

Trump is the Jerry Springer presidency—screaming, performative, unfiltered, and proud of its ignorance. But where Springer confined his madness to studio audiences and afternoon slots, Trump moved the stage to the Oval Office. This is what happens when spectacle ascends to power. And what once made us laugh now has the power to make us burn.

Wrestling with Power

This isn’t just an American phenomenon anymore. Like blue jeans, Coca-Cola, and Marvel superheroes, America’s trash culture has gone global. In 2018, the WWE staged a massive pay-per-view event in Saudi Arabia, complete with fireworks, pyrotechnics, and aging wrestlers lumbering through choreographed violence. In a country where political dissent is crushed and women only recently began driving, a bizarre pageant of American masculinity was not only welcomed—it was state-sponsored.

This is more than soft power. It is cultural colonization through junk content. We are witnessing a sort of aesthetic imperialism, where shallow spectacle becomes the shared language of our time. Reality TV values—humiliation, simplicity, fake conflict—are the values now shaping global leadership.

And when this culture reaches the apex of political power, it doesn’t entertain anymore. It governs.

Guardrails Are Gone

Trump’s first term was chaos—but it was chaos with brakes. There were still career civil servants in government agencies, still a few grown-ups in the room, still institutions that could resist his more unhinged impulses. Occasionally, someone would say “no.”

But now? The brakes are off. Trump is increasingly surrounded by sycophants who exist only to nod. He has replaced professionals with loyalists, ideologues, and media personalities who confuse governing with going viral. The people who once checked him are gone; the people who remain will cheer him off the cliff.

And he’s already eyeing the edge. He has floated ideas like buying Greenland, seizing control of the Panama Canal, and absorbing Canada into the U.S. as the 51st state. These aren’t jokes in a bar—they’re actual discussion points in policy meetings. They’re being entertained, dissected, gamed out. What used to be dismissed as the ramblings of a man-child are now the opening lines of government memos.

To compound the farce, the media landscape that once held him accountable has fractured. In his first term, however feebly, traditional outlets still mounted resistance. Today, a sprawling alternative media ecosystem exists to normalize his delusions, dress them up as strategic genius, and smear anyone who questions them as “globalist shills.”

The Tariff Tantrum

Nowhere is this more dangerous than in economics. Trump’s obsession with reciprocal tariffs—his cartoonish solution to trade imbalances—may push the global economy toward the brink. His “formula,” reportedly chosen because the real economic models were “too boring,” is a branding gimmick, not a policy. It’s economic cosplay.

In fact, the logic is so absurd it led to proposals for tariffs on remote islands inhabited only by penguins—because technically, the U.S. had a trade imbalance with them too.

But this isn’t merely funny. It’s lethal. In a world already teetering from inflation shocks, war, and rising inequality, Trump’s trade war could be the tipping point. The central banks, the last line of defense, are out of tools. After 2008, they slashed interest rates to near-zero to stimulate growth. But those rates never really recovered. Today, the toolbox is empty.

To put it plainly: in 2008, we were trying to land a damaged plane with full landing gear. Today, we’re trying to land a flaming aircraft on a freeway with no wheels, no brakes, and a pilot who thinks turbulence is a hoax.

The Federal Reserve, already under pressure, is being directly threatened by Trump. He’s mused about firing the Fed Chair for not cutting rates fast enough. These are not the actions of a rational democracy. They are the muscle flexes of an aspiring autocrat.

Meanwhile, major corporations—particularly in tech—are receiving exemptions from tariffs. Semiconductors, electronics, anything vital to major corporations and billionaires is spared. But if you're a small business owner? A manufacturer? A working-class consumer? You’re screwed. This isn't economic nationalism; it's kleptocratic cosplay, where access to the king means exemption from the law.

Ripples from Wall Street to Tunis

The United States does not exist in isolation. Its decisions have global reverberations. The 2008 financial crisis, which began in American housing markets, precipitated economic slowdowns across the globe. Some scholars argue that it was a key factor in the Arab Spring.

In Tunisia, economic despair was already brewing: high unemployment, shrinking growth, lost futures. Then, Mohamed Bouazizi, a street vendor harassed by police, set himself on fire in protest. His flames lit the region ablaze.

We often talk about the Arab Spring in terms of politics. But its roots were economic despair. And when the U.S. tips into another recession—this time triggered not by housing loans, but by a megalomaniac’s tariff war—what new despair will spread? Which frustrated youth, in which broken country, will light the next match?

We can't predict the future, but we can feel its tremors.

China, the "Adult" in the Room

In this vacuum of competence, China is moving in. The Belt and Road Initiative was Beijing’s first move to establish itself as a global alternative to American leadership. But Trump, through his erratic behavior, has done more to advance China's global position than any Chinese diplomat ever could.

While America tweets, China builds. While Trump threatens, Xi offers loans and infrastructure. Yes, it comes with strings. But when the global economy looks at Washington and sees only chaos, Beijing’s order—even authoritarian order—starts to look appealing.

Trump’s reign might have accelerated China's rise by a decade, perhaps more. He is not destroying the American empire. He’s handing it over.

Culture Eats Civilization

Let us not delude ourselves into thinking this is merely about politics. It’s about culture. Trump is not the disease; he’s the rash. The deeper illness is a civilization that rewards performance over principle, virality over vision, cruelty over competence. This is what happens when a society becomes hopelessly besotted to its own spectacle.

We built a colosseum—and then we were shocked when the lions started winning elections.

The Jerry Springer Show may be gone, but its DNA is now fused with statecraft. Institutions have become reality show sets. Diplomacy is a WWE match. Policymaking is driven by vibes, memes, and rage clicks.

What used to be entertainment is now governance. And what used to be unthinkable is now just another Tuesday.

We are not being governed. We are being filmed.