What makes Trump tick?

Why, they ask, has Trump continued to conduct himself as a candidate rather than a president? Why, after promising on election night to “bind the wounds of division,” has he persisted in lashing out at his perceived enemies with juvenile tweets like, “Happy New Year to all, including to my many enemies and those who have fought me and lost so badly they just don’t know what to do”? Why, 11 days before his inauguration, did he compare himself to the victims of Nazi persecution while in effect characterizing U.S. intelligence agencies as Nazis?

Why, instead of graciously turning the other cheek to critics like Meryl Streep or civil rights icon John Lewis, does Trump seem so fixated on tearing them down? Why, on the day after his inauguration, did he seem so consumed by a relatively minor issue like estimates of the crowd size at his swearing-in ceremony? Why, two days later, did he repeat his totally discredited claim that he had lost the popular vote because millions of undocumented immigrants had cast illegal votes against him?

Why, in short, is America’s new president acting like such a sore winner?

Sense of entitlement

At this moment in history, I find myself perhaps uniquely situated to address that question. As a financial journalist, I have followed Trump for more than 30 years—long before he aspired to the White House. On that basis, I can suggest an explanation for his seemingly inexplicable behavior, which is neither political nor pragmatic but psychological: Trump very likely suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). To such a person, everything is subordinate to the need for attention and approval—a hunger that can never be fulfilled.

If you have NPD, according to the Mayo Clinic, “You may come across as conceited, boastful or pretentious. You often monopolize conversations. You may belittle or look down on people you perceive as inferior. You may feel a sense of entitlement, and when you don't receive special treatment, you may become impatient or angry. You may insist on having "the best" of everything—for instance, the best car, athletic club, or medical care.

“At the same time, you have trouble handling anything that may be perceived as criticism. You may have secret feelings of insecurity, shame, vulnerability, and humiliation. To feel better, you may react with rage or contempt and try to belittle the other person to make yourself appear superior.”

Response to Hamilton

Consider, for example, how Trump and his vice president, Mike Pence, reacted to criticism from the cast of the Broadway musical Hamilton. Shortly after Election Day, Pence and his daughter attended the hit production and were booed by the audience. At the curtain call, cast member Brandon Victor Dixon, who was playing Aaron Burr, appealed to Pence to “uphold our American values” and “work on behalf of all of us.” Trump, in a tweet, denounced Dixon as “very rude and insulting” and claimed he “couldn’t even memorize his lines.” Pence, by contrast, shrugged and told his daughter, “That’s the sound of democracy.”

In Trump's own mind, it’s all about him; the NPD sufferer will say whatever feels good to him at any given time. He will never admit failure or error, nor will he apologize. He can be influenced by flattering him (as Stephen Bannon and Vladimir Putin, among others, have discovered).

Because the narcissist’s first priority is attention, everything he says is calculated to stir the pot and create excitement, not to achieve any long-range goal. When the stock market crashed in 1987, Trump announced he had sold all his stocks the week before. Since Trump wasn’t a money manager or a financial advisor, why should anyone have cared? He was simply seizing the moment to shine a spotlight on himself.

The late comedian Garry Shandling thought he was joking when, at the Emmy Awards, he quipped that Trump had built a real-estate empire in order to become a TV star.

About those tax returns….

In practical terms, what does NPD mean for Trump’s presidency? A few predictions:

• Trump will never release his tax returns. To do so would destroy his self-image as a successful businessman and generous philanthropist.
• Trump will never divest his businesses. They mean more to him than the presidency, because they’re central to his image and easier for him to control. (For that matter, Trump never really wanted to be president: As his first campaign manager acknowledged, Trump got into the race to raise his profile and enhance the value of his brand.)
• He will never give up his children as advisors, because he views them as extensions of himself; consequently, they’re the only people he trusts. (As Garry Wills astutely noted before the election, Trump literally has no friends.)
• He will resist holding press conferences, which involve confronting hostile questions. He will hold rallies instead, where he can bask in his supporters’ adulation.
• He won’t give up his Twitter account. For Trump, tweeting to his followers is not the means to some strategic end; it is the end. His need to vent transcends all else.

Bob Hope, audience junkie

If my diagnosis is correct, here’s the good news: Trump is neither evil, an ideologue, nor a bigot. Nor is he greedy or power-hungry, except insofar as money and power bring him attention. But he is a sick man. Were he not occupying the world’s most powerful position, he would deserve our sympathy.

To be sure, when it comes to narcissists, Trump is hardly alone. After cutting short a fishing vacation, the comedian Bob Hope explained, “Fish don’t applaud.” Nor is NPD especially new: As Voltaire remarked to Madame du Deffand in the 18th century, “You measure friendship, probity, wit—everything, in fact—according to the homage paid to you.” But Hope and Deffand never held the keys to our nuclear codes.

Back to the future

In July 1991, I wrote a column in the Philadelphia tabloid Welcomat in which I facetiously proposed nine prominent candidates for the death penalty. Would you be surprised to learn who made my list, even way back then? Trump, I wrote, “never exercised public authority, but he insists on monopolizing our attention anyway. For more than 10 years Trump has manipulated the media to create the illusion that he’s rich, thus convincing gullible bankers and bondholders to pay for his yachts, mansions, and mistresses. Chase Manhattan and Citibank, for example, lent Trump $290 million and $990 million respectively without ever conducting an audit of his finances. To be sure, the media and the bankers are to blame for swallowing Trump’s act, but what communal catharsis is there in executing some faceless banker or reporter? In the new spirit of the times, I say: They who live by the high profile must die by it.”

That was more than a quarter-century ago. Isn’t it comforting to know some things don’t change?

You are free to reject my analysis. I merely suggest that you keep it in mind during the coming years as a key to understanding what makes Trump tick. Set aside your generous instinct to normalize him and to give him a chance to grow in the office. We are talking here about a personality disorder that, from what I have read, is incurable and barely treatable. Most political journalists, on whom our system relies to hold presidents accountable, are ill-equipped and disinclined to deal with psychosis. This presidency will not end well—for Trump or most of us. To borrow one of Trump’s favorite phrases, "Mark my words."