No statistic ever lay gasping for air, feeling as though their chest were being “crushed by an anvil.” No one ever wept for a statistic that died alone beyond the touch of family or friends. No one ever mourned a statistic.
And yet at this moment of national trauma, our president can’t seem to muster even a poor imitation of compassion for the victims. What is more, rather than waging a war against the disease that is causing such pain, he is waging one against the statistics, fearing—and quite rightly—that the data will tell for all time the story of his utter failure as a leader.
Trump has declared himself a wartime president in the midst of this crisis. But he has been clear from the beginning that his war has been the one he has fought all his life: against truth, against facts, against anything that might offer glimpses into the reality of his warped character and serial failures.
