What if the leader of the free world wasn’t trying to govern—but to go viral?
The last two weeks in U.S. politics have made something brutally clear: the Trump movement doesn’t just challenge democracy—it mocks it. Through executive orders, legal provocations, and Supreme Court cases designed to erode judicial oversight, we’re not just witnessing a fascist resurgence.
We’re watching rule by trolling.
Not chaos. Not incompetence. But strategic shenanigans designed to perform power, generate outrage, and disorient resistance. It’s government by meme. Policy as bait. Authority reduced to algorithmic dominance.
And like all good trolls, the goal isn’t just to win—it’s to exhaust you. To make you doubt your judgment. To make you question whether fighting back is even worth it.
The Troll as Sovereign
In digital culture, a troll is a provocateur. Someone who says the unsayable, not because it’s true, but because it provokes a reaction. Their power lies in asymmetry—ten seconds to post something inflammatory, hours (or days) for others to respond or repair the damage.
Now imagine a troll with nuclear codes.
Trump is not the only example, but he is the most perfected form. He embodies the shift from liberal-democratic politics to performative autocracy, where authority doesn’t come from legitimacy but from spectacle. Where trolling is no longer just a form of resistance—it’s the operating logic of the regime.
The troll sovereign dares you to respond. And when you do, you’re already playing their game.
In The Society of the Spectacle (1967), Guy Debord argued that in modern capitalism, life itself is mediated through images. The spectacle is not just entertainment—it’s how power reproduces itself. Politics becomes performance. Reality is displaced by its representation.
Sound familiar?
What Debord couldn’t have foreseen was the rise of algorithmic media, where spectacle isn’t just dominant—it’s dynamically weaponized. Today, every political stunt becomes a feedback loop. Every legal outrage a chance to test the waters, move the needle, or set the next trap.
The spectacle is no longer passive. It’s interactive. It invites engagement—because your reaction is part of its power.
Rule by trolling is the natural evolution of the spectacle in the digital age. It thrives on virality, feeds on polarization, and erodes institutional legitimacy by turning everything into content.
While the executive branch plays troll-in-chief, the judiciary faces an existential question: does it still matter?
The Supreme Court’s recent hearings could strip federal judges of the power to review executive decisions—undermining the last line of legal accountability. But the public barely notices. That’s the point. The real work of authoritarianism happens in the shadows, while the trolls dance in the light.
Theatrics distract. Doctrine destroys.
And so we fall into a pattern: perform chaos, rewrite the rules, discredit the critics. Rinse. Repeat. By the time institutions react, the game has moved on. The law can’t keep pace with the meme cycle.
The real danger isn’t just what trolls do—it’s what they hollow out.
The ultimate aim of rule by trolling isn’t total control. It’s consent through collapse.
When nothing makes sense, when nothing seems to matter, when all responses feel futile—that’s when trolling wins. Not by convincing you, but by wearing you down. The exhaustion is the point.
But here’s the trick: trolls need your attention. They thrive on spectacle. They wither in solidarity, in shared reality, in the boring, slow, patient work of building systems that don’t need them.
To defeat the troll, we don’t need better zingers or louder outrage.
We need a different game.
Now to sketch out the new game, one that can reach everyone. Based on A shared myth that perhaps allows us to be more human? One can dream 🙂
Great analysis…we are way past the maxim of “don’t feed the trolls”.