In the modern information landscape, truth used to have weight. Journalists were arbiters of facts, and lies—when caught—were publicly corrected and scorned. That world is gone. In its place stands the blustering tower of tweets that is Donald Trump, a figure who has turned political discourse into a theater of distraction and misdirection. With each outrageous claim, he hijacks the national conversation—not with logic or evidence, but with confidence, repetition, and a near toddler-like refusal to be corrected.
It’s no accident, then, that comparing Trump to a toddler isn’t just a joke—it’s a lens through which to understand his strategy. Like a child who declares “My dad is the strongest man in the world,” Trump doesn’t seek a factual debate. He seeks attention, validation, and control of the narrative. And unfortunately, for much of his rise, the media played right into his hands, responding to every wild statement with the seriousness reserved for wartime declarations.
The truth is, you can’t win an argument with a toddler. You’ll either lose—or worse—get dragged into their world where logic doesn’t apply. Donald Trump has mastered this toddler approach to politics. When he tweets that millions voted illegally with no evidence, or that Obama founded ISIS, or that flag burners should lose their citizenship, he isn’t trying to be factual. He’s creating a spectacle. And the media, hungry for clicks and viewers, too often follows the trail he leaves, instead of questioning the direction it’s heading.
The Evolution of the Trump Media Strategy
Initially, journalists tried to treat Trump like a traditional politician. They fact-checked. They annotated. They pulled receipts. But the Trump phenomenon isn’t built on logic—it’s built on audacity. As Trump doubled down on falsehoods, the media scrambled to correct him, often with diminishing returns. Why? Because Trump doesn’t care about the correction. He thrives on the conflict. He’s playing a different game.
Traditional politicians lie too, but their lies are tethered to reality. As comedian Trevor Noah noted, someone like Ted Cruz will cherry-pick a statistic or twist a half-truth because they know facts matter to the public. It’s a lie that acknowledges truth. Trump, on the other hand, skips that step entirely. His claims are often baseless, unverifiable, or flatly contradicted by known evidence—but that’s the point. When he says Cruz’s father helped kill JFK or that thousands of Muslims in New Jersey celebrated 9/11, it creates a whirlpool of confusion that drowns out more important stories.
The media, caught between their duty to inform and the pressure to entertain, often chases Trump’s narrative down the rabbit hole. Fact-checking becomes a reactionary dance rather than a proactive responsibility. And when every headline is devoted to debunking Trump’s latest tweet, it inadvertently gives him the spotlight he craves.
The Toddler Tactic: Don’t Argue—Ask Questions
So how do we respond to someone who’s impervious to facts?
Treat him like a toddler.
If a child claims their dad is the strongest man alive, you don’t yell or argue. You calmly ask follow-up questions: “Oh? What makes you think that?” You gently push them to explain—because logic is the kryptonite of toddlerdom. And it could be for Trump too.
Rather than hammering every lie with a breaking headline, the media should pivot to a more subversive approach: ask for proof. Not to challenge—but to contain. When Trump tweets about voter fraud, don’t launch an endless televised debate about the integrity of elections. Just say: “Show us. Where? When? Who?”
If the answer is vague or nonexistent, move on. Don’t amplify the fiction. Don’t give it credibility through repetition. Instead, refocus attention on the real consequences of his actions—his policy appointments, his environmental deregulations, his threats to healthcare access. These are verifiable. These matter. These are the things voters need to understand.
Trump’s Universe vs. The Real World
One of Trump’s most effective techniques is creating his own universe—one in which reality is secondary to perception. He makes a claim, and no matter how absurd, the media chases it. By the time they’ve debunked it, it’s too late. The public isn’t reading the retractions. They remember the headline. The myth has already taken root.
In this universe, Trump always wins. He never needs to prove anything—just say it loud enough and often enough. Meanwhile, the press burns time, energy, and credibility trying to disprove things that were never true to begin with.
The only way out is to stop playing by his rules.
Changing the Rules of Engagement
Just as American revolutionaries broke the rules of traditional warfare to defeat the British, journalists must now break the rules of traditional reporting to defeat Trump’s disinformation. This doesn’t mean abandoning standards or ethics. It means evolving.
Instead of broadcasting every tweet, interrogate its relevance. If it’s unprovable or a clear distraction, don’t dignify it with airtime. Ask follow-up questions. Highlight the lack of evidence. Then move on to real stories—like cabinet appointments, international policy changes, or the gutting of climate regulations.
This shift doesn’t mean ignoring Trump. It means refocusing coverage on what he does, not what he says. It means demanding evidence before debate. And it means resisting the temptation to fight fiction with facts in a space where facts no longer function.
A New Kind of Journalism
The media’s existential crisis, as seen in that viral on-air moment where a pundit practically melted down asking “What is a journalist anymore?”, is real. But it’s also an opportunity. This is a chance for journalism to reinvent itself—not by bending to Trump’s game, but by refusing to play it.
So next time Trump tweets something outlandish, the correct response isn’t a red banner or a prime-time fact-check. It’s a calm, quiet challenge: “Pics or it didn’t happen.” No pictures? No proof? No story.
Let the toddler scream into the void. Let the rest of us get back to reality.
