By Lawrence Meyer

Donald Trump held a press conference on August 8 in the ballroom of his “home,” Mar a Lago–at least he called it a press conference. The press was there, of course, but they were actually props who asked questions that no one watching on live television could hear, allowing Trump to go on at great length about the unfairness of everything. The live television was a nice touch, giving the impression that something newsworthy was taking place when in reality it was the same old same old. Not only was little that Trump had to say new, but he managed again to set a trap for the media, and they fell right into it.

Donald Trump may not be eloquent, or particularly well versed in geography, public policy, the Constitution, nuclear weapons, American history or much else, but he sure knows how to play the media.

In fact, Donald Trump–the one we see on our screens and read about–is a media creation, written, produced and directed by Donald Trump. He understands only too well the maxim (wrongly) attributed to P.T. Barnum: “There’s a sucker born every minute.”

Two months ago, we observed a faux anniversary—the ninth year since Donald Trump descended on the supposedly golden escalator on June 16, 2015–to announce his candidacy for president of the United States.

The event was covered by live television, not surprisingly, because much of Trump’s adult life has been covered by the media. He was rich, having inherited millions from an indulgent father who helped bankroll young Donald’s adventures. Trump’s adventures were catnip for New York’s tabloid press. Not only was he rich, but he was also handsome in the eyes of some and flamboyant. He cultivated reporters, calling them under the guise of being his press agent, John Miller, to brag about his client (himself), Donald Trump. He invariably showed up at the city’s trendy nightspots often accompanied by beautiful women.

Tabloids loved him. Rupert Murdoch acquired the New York Post in 1976.Trump’s picture started showing up in newspapers. As his fame grew, however, the truth of the matter was that he hadn’t accomplished anything of substantial value. He built a tall building on Fifth Avenue–violating agreements he made to get the building permit–and put his name on it. He was a man with no discernible talent other than for self-promotion. He became an example of an increasingly familiar phenomenon, a celebrity famous for being famous.

Once he accomplished that, his fame grew in a kitschy sort of way. He appeared in a movie. He appeared on magazine covers, including predictably, Playboy. He hosted Saturday Night Live. Like the Kardashians, who have little to recommend them other than physical attractiveness, he became a public figure.

Despite numerous financial setbacks, including paying too much for New York’s Plaza Hotel, folding an Atlantic City casino, creating a professional football team in a failed conference when he couldn’t buy an NFL team and a number of bankruptcies, he gained a reputation for being a shrewd businessman. His fame only grew when he published a book, “The Art of the Deal,” that was largely ghost-written.

Finally, building on his undeserved reputation as a shrewd, successful businessman, he enjoyed fourteen seasons on the highly successful television show, “The Apprentice,” where he appeared as the tough, no nonsense chief executive who brooked no incompetence. Never mind that the show was scripted, and he was only reading lines written by someone else. The character he played was just that—a character he was playing.

During the run-up to the 2016 Republican primaries Trump held rallies that invariably were covered by one network or more, including Fox, of course, but also CNN and occasionally MSNBC. From a news perspective, there was little or no justification for airing those rallies. None of the other candidates enjoyed that kind of coverage. Nothing Trump said at those rallies was particularly newsworthy. The only justification for airing his rallies was that Trump was an oddity who said outrageous things, attracting eyeballs to the screen.

Yet this was a skyscraper built on sand. There was no substance to the events, other than spectacle and Trump’s fomenting mob behavior, encouraging violence and denigrating his opponents in personal terms. He made promises he couldn’t keep. Mexico will pay for the wall at the border. They didn’t. He would lower the deficit (his tax cut increased it.) He would scrap Obamacare and replace it with something better. Nope.

The Trump phenomenon, if we can call it that, is sadly all too familiar to popular American culture which favors spectacle over substance. The damning commentary on his popularity isn’t about him so much as it is about the media and us. We have to wonder how a person who’s twice divorced, who encouraged coverage of his adultery during his first marriage, who raped at least one woman, slept with a porn star and boasted of his ability to molest women, could have a career in American politics.

This possibility is as much a comment about us as it is about him. But the more disturbing realization is that he has dominated news coverage for the past nine years. With the possible exception of public television, one searches in vain for a news outlet or program that doesn’t daily feature some kind of a story about Donald Trump. It’s difficult to think of any person who has managed to be in the news on an almost daily basis for that much time.

And now, as we enter the 2024 Presidential campaign in earnest, we’re seeing it all over again. Trump calls a “press conference” so that he can hold forth on the same things he’s said innumerable times before, often lying in the process. And it’s covered live by three cable networks! It’s fair to say that he said little that could not have been covered in a short news story in print and a brief clip on television. The attraction for cable news–which has to fill the void with something–is eyeballs. But how about exercising some news judgment? As long as he can get coverage, he’ll keep doing it. And our political discourse will be the poorer for it.