I’m not a psychologist, but I do hold a BA in Psychology. I chose that path mainly because I’ve always been fascinated by the subject. I enjoy observing people and figuring out what makes them tick. Plus, I figured since I was a manager of people, this knowledge might come in handy—which, spoiler alert, it did.

Now, it’s strange to have a daily front-row seat to such a bizarre case, one that’s unfortunately broadcast for the entire world to see. I think you know exactly whom I’m talking about. Among the many disturbing traits this individual parades around, one of the most troubling is how others seem to enjoy it, as if it’s normal. (Newsflash: it’s not.)

For reasons that defy explanation, this person seems incapable of speaking in clear, coherent sentences. His command of language hovers somewhere around a fifth-grade level, and he’s perpetually angry—quick to assign blame or slap labels on people: “low IQ,” “not bright,” “not smart,” “mean.” It’s playground-level name-calling dressed up as rhetoric. In reality, it’s a projection. The criticism says less about the target and more about his desperate attempt to distance himself from feelings he can’t handle. At the core, he’s terrified of confronting who he really is.

Freud had this guy pegged over a century ago. I’m convinced it stems from a defense mechanism rooted in inadequacy—maybe rejection, alienation, or a lifelong sense of inferiority. Whatever the origin, it’s now mutated into a bizarre and unhealthy coping strategy.

What’s most shocking is twofold: first, this behavior comes from a man who should embody leadership at the highest level, with the greatest skill. Yet this is not leadership. It doesn’t even vaguely resemble the way I conducted myself as a manager of people, nor does it compare to the senior leaders I worked alongside in my career. Instead, it screams weakness and a total inability to exercise control. Given the position he holds, that’s not just alarming—it’s terrifying, and it’s getting worse by the day.

And let’s not forget the supporting cast. He’s surrounded by people with no integrity, incapable of reining in the nonsense. They enable it, normalize it, and in doing so reveal their own lack of character. They should be leaders too, but instead they’re worse than simple followers—they’re cheerleaders for dysfunction.

Two things come to mind here, both unintentionally hilarious. First, Looney Tunes. Remember Spike (sometimes called Butch), the big bulldog, and Chester, the hyper little terrier? Chester worships Spike—until Spike gets clobbered. Then Chester suddenly stops fawning and sometimes even takes charge. Sound familiar? The clobbering will come, and Chester will run.

Second, Seinfeld. Because yes, Seinfeld really does have everything you need to survive in the real world. Jerry once said:

“You know you really need some help. A regular psychiatrist couldn’t even help you. You need to go to like Vienna or something… You need a team. A team of psychiatrists working around the clock, thinking about you, having conferences, observing you, like the way they did with the Elephant Man. That’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

Finally, the people—why do some continue to support this circus? It can’t simply be because “he says what’s on his mind.” That only proves how little is actually on his mind and how little intelligence is behind it. What we see instead are constant lies, which, for reasons beyond logic, some interpret as him “speaking for them” or reflecting their disenfranchisement. He doesn’t.

Shouldn’t everyone be responsible for the outcome of their own lives? What makes anyone believe that a spoiled rich man, who offers nothing in the way of leadership, intelligence, or common sense, could possibly improve their situation—or contribute anything meaningful at all?

Whatever happened to honesty, decency, integrity, and taking responsibility instead of blaming others? That’s leadership. Are we really saying that doesn’t matter anymore? I’m sure there’s medication for this level of crazy—after all, Walter Reed is just down the road. Maybe they’ll write a prescription after the next cognitive test, you know, the one where he supposedly got all the answers right: “Person. Woman. Man. Camera. TV.”

Time for a reality check, not a reality show like the “Apprentice,” Although we never thought the US presidency would become a reality show.