The Normalization of Donald Trump

When Will the MAGA Frog Feel the Boiling Water?

We’ve all heard the parable of the frog that unconsciously adjusts to the pan of slowly boiling water. Each additional degree of heat gradually becomes the norm, and the frog adjusts until it’s too late to escape. Doubtful as the science of the metaphor may be, the process of normalization is striking. That’s what’s happening with Donald Trump: each new outrage raises the temperature, and we adapt instead of react.

Contrary to the boiling frog parable, it’s not unusual for humans to shift between what’s considered normal and what’s seen as outrageous. Often, these transitions are gradual: it took centuries for slavery to be widely condemned, and decades for same-sex marriage to be broadly accepted. But sometimes, the outrageous is disinfected almost overnight. Consider the 2016 "Access Hollywood" tape, in which Trump was heard boasting about sexually assaulting women. It was met with bipartisan shock and condemnation and predicted to end his campaign, yet the scandal faded, and he was elected anyway.

The story of Donald Trump’s public life is one of relentless, unhealthy normalization, unprecedented in both pace and scope. He has never hidden the warning signs, yet many of us have stopped responding to them with appropriate alarm. While his supporters may cheer each new outrage, his ability to lie, exaggerate, disparage, avenge, and manipulate has become so routine that even his critics fail to take each new outrage as seriously as they should.

That’s the real danger: not just that Trump is eroding democracy, but that we are adjusting to him. We’re staying in the pot. And the water is getting hotter.

Defining Deviancy Down: How We Got Here

Sociologist Daniel Patrick Moynihan coined the term "defining deviancy down" to describe how societies gradually normalize what was once considered extreme behavior. In authoritarian movements, this is how once-unthinkable actions become routine. Trump’s presidency has followed this trajectory, pushing past constitutional norms, defying basic standards of truth, and conditioning the public to accept behaviors that would have ended any previous administration.

The slow normalization of political scandal isn’t entirely new. Bill Clinton’s affair with Monica Lewinsky once triggered impeachment proceedings and dominated headlines. Today, it’s widely seen as a footnote in his legacy. Public fatigue, tribal loyalty, and short attention spans all contribute to this drift. But where past scandals eventually faded, Trump’s behavior has created a constant churn. Each offense eclipses the last, until outrage itself feels outdated.

Trump himself understood this dynamic early on. At a 2016 campaign event, he infamously boasted, “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose any voters. It’s, like, incredible.” It wasn’t just bluster—it was a recognition of how deeply some supported him, and how willing others were to tolerate his behavior. Even he seemed stunned by the loyalty—or apathy—he was able to command. He knew the water was already warming, and he planned to turn up the heat.

As Senator Chris Murphy recently put it, "It happens so often, so publicly, that we begin to accept it as just part of the new reality." This is exactly how democracy erodes—not in a single moment, but in a series of escalations that become familiar enough to stop feeling like escalations at all. With his administration’s recent actions, there is a clear acceleration of his most dangerous tendencies. The question is: Are we too far into the boil to jump out now?

Exclusionary Politics: Xenophobia and Dismantling Equity

Trump’s exclusionary mindset isn’t new, it predates his presidency. In 1973, the Department of Justice sued Trump Management Corporation for discriminating against Black renters, alleging that rental agents marked applications with a “C” for “colored” and routinely denied housing based on race. Rather than admit wrongdoing, Trump settled without acknowledging guilt, later calling the charges “absolutely ridiculous.” This case revealed not just discriminatory practices, but Trump’s instinct to deflect, deny, and attack those who challenge him. It was an early warning sign and one that was widely overlooked.

This early pattern of exclusion would later echo through his political career. Past Republican leaders, like John McCain and George W. Bush, explicitly rejected white nationalism. Trump, however, plays a different game—using vague statements that extremists interpret as support. Historically, nationalist leaders have relied on this strategy to empower fringe groups while maintaining plausible deniability. His infamous "stand back and stand by" comment to the Proud Boys in 2020 and his "very fine people on both sides" remark after Charlottesville were once national scandals. Today, they are barely mentioned when discussing his re-election.

His administration enacted policies reflecting ethno-nationalist priorities, including the Muslim ban, family separations at the border, and severe restrictions on legal immigration. His current rhetoric continues to dehumanize immigrants, portraying them as criminals and economic threats—an old nationalist strategy to stoke fear and justify exclusionary policies. That agenda has re-escalated in recent months, with mass deportations, including of asylum seekers and alleged gang members. Eric Ebright, a federal public defender involved in the case, likened the treatment of detainees to the incarceration of Japanese Americans in camps during World War II, underscoring how brazen and dehumanizing these policies have become.

What once operated on the fringes of immigration policy now defines our own government’s approach to equity. In his first week back in office, Trump signed Executive Order 14151 eliminating DEI programs across all federal agencies. His administration followed this by restricting federal contracts for companies that maintain DEI initiatives, scrubbing government websites of references to civil rights figures, and removing awards and recognitions related to diversity. These changes go beyond administrative adjustments. They reflect an intentional erasure of civil rights progress, a sanitization of federal narratives, and an effort to embed exclusionary values into government operations. When dismantling inclusion becomes official policy and extreme views become a predictable feature of governance, it doesn’t just reject past commitments to equity, it normalizes institutional discrimination under the guise of fairness and neutrality.

That same exclusionary approach—once applied to immigrants and now embedded in federal policy—has extended to global humanitarian efforts. In early 2025, Trump suspended nearly all U.S. foreign aid through Executive Order 14169, halting humanitarian funding across dozens of countries. In Afghanistan, over 3.5 million children are projected to suffer from acute malnutrition this year, while in Haiti, 90% of USAID contracts have been canceled amid a growing hunger crisis, as half the country faces food shortages. Critical therapeutic food supplies have halted across dozens of countries, with UNICEF estimating that 14 million children worldwide could lose access to essential nutrition and medical care as a result. When cruelty is cast as efficiency—whether at the border or halfway across the world—what’s most alarming isn’t just the suffering, but how little it surprises us.

Economic Isolationism and Trade Wars: Hurting Americans, But Who’s Paying Attention?

Trump’s economic policy isn’t just about strengthening the U.S. It’s about creating a political narrative where economic failure is blamed on external enemies rather than failed leadership. This was evident in his trade policies. His first-term tariffs on China, Canada, and Mexico triggered retaliatory measures that devastated American farmers, forcing the U.S. Department of Agriculture to provide up to $28 billion in relief aid, with $23.1 billion ultimately disbursed—making it larger than the 2009 auto industry bailout. The damage wasn’t limited to agriculture. A Federal Reserve study found that Trump’s tariffs caused a 1.4% decline in U.S. manufacturing employment between 2018 and 2019, translating to tens of thousands of job losses rather than job growth. Consumers also bore the brunt of these policies. The National Bureau of Economic Research estimated that U.S. consumers bore nearly 100% of the tariff costs, contradicting Trump’s claims that China was paying for them. Studies also found that Trump’s tariffs reduced U.S. GDP and led to economic inefficiency rather than growth. The consequences of these policies are real. The backlash, however, has become more performative than urgent.

Trump’s second-term tariffs have already sent shockwaves through global markets, disrupting supply chains and flaring diplomatic tensions across Europe, Asia, and North America. The World Trade Organization now projects a potential 1.5% decline in global trade if current policies continue, with U.S. exports forecasted to fall by over 12%—numbers that have spooked longtime allies and triggered WTO challenges from Canada and Mexico. Deutsche Bank has also warned that these measures threaten global economic stability and could accelerate inflation. While it’s too early to fully assess the long-term consequences, the sheer scope and recklessness of Trump’s approach is unprecedented. But perhaps more alarming than the chaos itself is how quickly we've come to expect it. Trump’s unpredictability has become part of the spectacle, absorbed into the political landscape like everything else.

Militarism and Expansionism: The Absurd Becomes Plausible

Trump’s approach to military power and global alliances is less about strategy and more about spectacle and control. His calls for nuclear buildup and boasts about military dominance fit a pattern seen in nationalist leaders who prioritize military strength and territorial expansion over diplomacy. His desire to "buy Greenland" may have seemed absurd at the time, but it was eventually taken seriously within his administration. The same is true of annexing Canada. Suggestions that, in any previous administration, would have been met with bipartisan outrage. Instead, it has been largely dismissed as just another example of "Trump being Trump." Symbolic gestures also play a role in his nationalist rebranding. On February 9, 2025, he renamed the "Gulf of Mexico" the "Gulf of America," pressuring media organizations to adopt the change. It was a move emblematic of authoritarian branding tactics used to assert dominance over territory.

His fixation on military power and dominance extends beyond territorial claims. Trump’s disdain for NATO, including frequent threats to withdraw and repeated statements questioning its value, reflects a broader pattern in which nationalist leaders seek to dismantle alliances in pursuit of unchecked power. In 1933, Adolf Hitler withdrew Germany from the League of Nations, citing international cooperation as a threat to national sovereignty. Benito Mussolini followed suit before pursuing aggressive expansionism, while Vladimir Putin has actively worked to weaken NATO, seeing it as a barrier to Russian geopolitical aspirations.

Trump’s approach to national borders follows the same logic. He treats them as business transactions rather than pillars of international stability, further underscores this shift. Coupled with his open admiration for authoritarian strongmen—Putin, Kim Jong-un, Bolsonaro, Erdogan, Orbán—Trump’s vision is clear. It’s about reshaping America to align more closely with autocratic governance than democratic values.

Erosion of Democracy: The Playbook Is Out in the Open

Efforts to Overturn the 2020 Election Were a Test—And He Passed

Authoritarians don’t dismantle democracy overnight. They test boundaries. Trump’s actions following the 2020 election exemplify this tactic. He pressured state officials to "find" votes and attempted to use the Justice Department to falsely declare election fraud. He also encouraged the January 6th insurrection, framing it as a fight for the nation. Despite all of this, he is president again. The fact that these actions didn’t end his political career proves that deviancy has been redefined sharply downward.

Undermining the Legal System and the Constitution

His attacks on the legal system, including attempts to use executive power to punish law firms and disregard for legal authority, demonstrate a systematic effort to erode constitutional guardrails.

This pattern was immediate in his second term. On March 6, 2025, Trump signed an executive order barring the federal government from using Perkins Coie's services. This was widely seen as retaliation against a firm that previously worked with Democratic entities. Former federal Judge J. Michael Luttig described Trump’s attacks on the judiciary as a “full-frontal assault on the Constitution, the rule of law, our system of justice, and the entire legal profession.”

His disregard for constitutional constraints extend beyond the courts. He has pledged to end birthright citizenship, despite its protection under the 14th Amendment. He has also floated extending his presidency beyond two terms, directly defying the 22nd Amendment and undermining the foundations of American democracy.

In another chilling display of executive overreach, Trump recently invoked the phrase, "He who saves his Country does not violate any Law", echoing sentiments attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte. This dangerous assertion implies that actions taken under the guise of national salvation are beyond legal reproach, effectively placing the president above the law. As former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich pointed out, “In our system of government, it’s up to the courts to determine whether the president is using his power legitimately, not the president.” This sentiment was starkly illustrated in action when the administration defied a federal court order halting the deportation of alleged Venezuelan gang members. Despite Judge James Boasberg's directive, deportation flights proceeded, with Border Czar Tom Homan brazenly stating, "I don't care what the judges think.”

Federal Intervention in Academic Institutions

Trump’s second term has not only targeted marginalized groups and federal agencies—it has also turned elite universities into battlegrounds. These aren’t isolated acts of overreach; they’re part of a growing campaign to punish dissent and bend institutions to political will.

In March 2025, the administration revoked $400 million in federal funding from Columbia University, citing alleged antisemitic harassment and demanding oversight of specific academic departments. Columbia’s compliance set a precedent—one that signaled to other institutions that resistance would be costly.

Harvard University, however, took a different path. When the Trump administration froze approximately $2.3 billion in federal funding after Harvard refused to dismantle its DEI programs, alter its admissions policies, or cooperate with immigration enforcement, the university stood firm. “We will not surrender our independence or relinquish our constitutional rights,” President Alan Garber stated. But the backlash has been swift: threats to revoke Harvard’s tax-exempt status, restrict international student enrollment, and increase scrutiny of its foreign funding have escalated.

What might once have sparked bipartisan outrage is now just another policy skirmish in a presidency defined by its erosion of institutional norms. The debate isn’t just about DEI or free speech—it’s about how far a president can go in using the power of the federal government to reshape the country’s cultural and intellectual landscape. And the more often it happens, the less shocking it becomes.

Punitive Leadership: When Power Serves Ego

His rhetoric has also escalated. He refers to political adversaries as "vermin" and pledging to “root out” his ideological enemies, echoing authoritarian leaders who have used dehumanization to justify crackdowns on dissent. Recently, he has turned his ire toward the judiciary, calling for the impeachment of federal judges who rule against him, including U.S. District Judge James E. Boasberg. This effort to undermine judicial independence prompted a rare rebuke from Chief Justice John Roberts, who warned that disagreement with a judicial decision should not be grounds for impeachment.

These are just a few examples of how Trump treats opposition. His approach to dissent is inherently punitive. He lashes out at political rivals, judges, journalists, and even former allies with personal attacks, calls for firings, and open encouragement of harassment. Personal grievance becomes public retaliation.

Trump’s behavior isn’t just political, it’s deeply personal. Tony Schwartz, the ghostwriter of The Art of the Deal, has spoken extensively about what it was like inside Trump’s world. He described Trump as a “pathological liar” with an “insatiable hunger for attention,” someone incapable of empathy and uninterested in anyone’s needs but his own. Schwartz noted Trump’s short attention span, his impulsive decision-making, and his vindictiveness toward anyone who challenged him. These aren’t political strategies; these are enduring personality traits. They haven’t changed in the decade since Schwartz described them. The country hasn’t adjusted to Trump becoming more presidential. We’ve adjusted because he hasn’t.

Final Warning: The Greatest Danger Is Our Own Apathy

Trump doesn’t just divide people—he desensitizes. Under Trump, legal rulings are treated as optional, political opponents are punished, and constitutional rights are chipped away—not through sudden collapse, but through relentless erosion. The more we accept it, the harder it is to undo.

The warning signs are clear. The question now is whether we’ll finally jump or keep adjusting to the increasing heat. The normalization of the outrageous can only be reversed when people refuse to accept it. The time to resist is now—before the water starts to boil.

Devin McCune is a former auditor and financial analyst who now writes about politics, normalization, and cultural accountability. This piece is part of an ongoing effort to track patterns of democratic erosion in American life.