U.S. presidents have big egos—if they didn’t, their chances of reaching the Oval Office would be slim—and they want to be remembered favorably after they are gone. A few presidents, such as George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin D. Roosevelt, enjoy an exalted status in part for their exceptional qualities but also because they overcame challenging circumstances that required extraordinary leadership. Presidents who govern in more normal times, or whose actions in office are tainted by obvious failures, can only hope they don’t end up near the bottom of one of those lists ranking presidents from best to worst.
As in so many other things, Donald Trump’s obsession with his own place in history is in a class by itself. No other president has made his time in office so nakedly about himself or been as transparent in his desire to be remembered as one of the greatest U.S. presidents. Indeed, he seems to believe that he has already earned this accolade.
U.S. presidents have big egos—if they didn’t, their chances of reaching the Oval Office would be slim—and they want to be remembered favorably after they are gone. A few presidents, such as George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin D. Roosevelt, enjoy an exalted status in part for their exceptional qualities but also because they overcame challenging circumstances that required extraordinary leadership. Presidents who govern in more normal times, or whose actions in office are tainted by obvious failures, can only hope they don’t end up near the bottom of one of those lists ranking presidents from best to worst.
As in so many other things, Donald Trump’s obsession with his own place in history is in a class by itself. No other president has made his time in office so nakedly about himself or been as transparent in his desire to be remembered as one of the greatest U.S. presidents. Indeed, he seems to believe that he has already earned this accolade.
The signs of Trump’s desire for personal glory are everywhere. In his first term, he told reporters that delays in filling key positions were irrelevant because he was “the only one” who mattered. He has repeatedly expressed his desire for a Nobel Peace Prize, which he covets in part because his predecessor Barack Obama got one. During his 2024 presidential campaign, he made it clear that he saw himself as the greatest president ever—even better than Lincoln or Washington. He boasts about his own intelligence, and he expects cabinet members and other top officials to engage in ritual acts of fawning admiration in public. Cultish MAGA Republicans are already working to venerate Trump; there’s even a congressional bill proposing that his face be added to Mount Rushmore.
Trump’s problem, however, is that his record in office is at best mediocre and at worst a disaster. During his first term, he mishandled the COVID-19 pandemic, increased U.S. debt by more than $8 trillion, made the U.S. trade deficit worse, failed to end the war in Afghanistan, couldn’t persuade North Korea to reduce its nuclear arsenal, and roiled relations with long-standing U.S. allies to no good purpose. After that performance, the electorate quite properly turned him out of office. He won a second term largely because Joe Biden didn’t leave the race soon enough, and he’s now attempting a radical transformation of U.S. domestic and foreign policy that has raised legitimate fears of a recession, threatens to destroy the country’s world-leading scientific and academic prowess, and has caused his approval ratings to plummet faster than any U.S. president in 80 years. Call me old-fashioned, but that doesn’t look like Mount Rushmore material to me.
But don’t count Trump out yet because his entire career both before and after he entered politics has been based on a remarkable ability to create the illusion of achievement, even when the facts say otherwise. He started his business career having inherited a sizable fortune, only to suffer repeated bankruptcies and other business failures while committing multiple frauds. Despite this mediocre record, a combination of relentless self-promotion, adroit and shameless lying, and a fortuitous gig as a reality TV star convinced millions of people that he was a business genius and a master dealmaker.
As president, Trump’s primary achievement has been to shatter many of the norms that shaped the U.S. democratic order and to challenge a lot of conventional wisdoms. For his supporters, that is his genius; to his critics, it is why he’s so dangerous. Unfortunately, he has been too unable or unwilling to master the detail necessary to implement effective reforms and too inept a negotiator to out-maneuver experienced and tough-minded foreign adversaries. But these failings may not matter, given his ability to convince people that he’s doing great things no matter what the reality may be.
But is there something wrong with a president striving for a special place in the history books in the first place? Shouldn’t we want our presidents to be ambitious and not be content with simply preserving the status quo or tinkering with it at the margins? The answer is yes, provided that 1) they have well-conceived ideas for how to benefit the country (and not just enrich themselves or their biggest backers) and 2) they know how to implement these plans effectively. Ambition is welcome when it advances the common good and is pursued energetically and effectively but not when it’s all about glorifying the individual who happens to occupy the White House.
When leaders are driven primarily by the desire for personal glory, rather than by a genuine commitment to the public interest, they are more likely to pursue meaningless “achievements” that bring few benefits (e.g., renaming the Gulf of Mexico) and to ignore more challenging problems whose solution would help millions of people (such as improving infrastructure or reducing economic inequality). They are more inclined to take big risks, conjure up imaginary emergencies to justify extreme measures, and pursue lofty but ill-conceived projects that ordinary citizens will end up paying for. And if appearances are all that matter, an ambitious leader will spend more time building up cults of personality and suppressing criticism than on actually governing. Sound familiar?
Trump’s oft-expressed desire to take over Greenland illustrates these tendencies perfectly. There is no compelling security justification for annexing the island because the United States already has a treaty with Greenland’s rightful sovereign, Denmark, that permits increasing the U.S. military presence there if circumstances require. Nor is there a compelling economic reason to take it over because exploiting Greenland’s mineral resources may not be commercially viable and U.S. firms are free to pursue these opportunities if they wish. There’s also the pesky problem that Greenland’s population has no desire to become part of the United States.
Taking over Greenland would damage whatever remains of America’s image as a comparatively benign great power, undermine relations with Denmark (previously one of the most pro-American countries in the world), and further undermine the long-standing norm against territorial expansion. In short: It’s a dumb idea. But in Trump’s mind, seizing Greenland (or making Canada the 51st state, for that matter) would make America bigger and therefore “greater.” Surely a dramatic “achievement” like that would cement his place in history, no matter what the consequences or collateral damage might be.
Indeed, history warns that leaders obsessed with personal glory typically do enormous harm to their own countries. Napoleon Bonaparte was unquestionably an extraordinary individual and a world-historical figure, but his addictive pursuit of personal glory cost the lives of millions of Europeans (including perhaps a million French citizens), and he ended up dying a lonely death in exile on St. Helena. Adolf Hitler was a megalomaniac who aspired to create a “1,000-year Reich,” but his main “achievement” was tens of millions of dead Europeans and a division of Germany that lasted more than four decades. Other ambitious leaders convinced of their historic destiny—such as the Shah of Iran, Fidel Castro, Hugo Chávez, Saddam Hussein, Mao Zedong, Gamal Abdel Nasser, and Joseph Stalin—may have achieved some remarkable feats, but each ultimately did their countries more harm than good.
The Founding Fathers understood the damage that overweening personal ambition could cause. That is why they rejected the idea of monarchy, wrote a constitution, insisted that the United States should be a nation ruled by laws, and created a system of government where “[a]mbition must be made to counteract ambition.” James Madison’s statement in “Federalist No. 51” that in “republican government, the legislative authority necessarily predominates” showed his keen awareness of the dangers that would arise if presidents were too powerful or eager to subordinate the interests of the country to their own quest for recognition and acclaim.
Because we live in a world where truth is an increasingly scarce commodity, humility is old-fashioned, and naked self-promotion is the norm, Trump may manage to convince the MAGA faithful that he is a truly great president. But in the end, his historical reputation will depend on results. Based on his record to date, he’s likely to be judged as a highly significant president because his smashing of norms and other radical actions will have had an enormous impact by the time he leaves office.
But unless Americans decide they are happier in a country that is weaker, sicker, poorer, dumber, more indebted, less admired, more divided, and maybe no longer a genuine democracy, the mantle of true greatness will forever escape his grasp.
