The Cruelty is the Point: Why Trump’s Depravity Strengthens His Appeal

“The cruelty is the point.” That phrase isn’t just a passing comment; it’s a core truth about the enduring loyalty of Donald Trump’s most devoted supporters, argued conservative commentator and former Naval War College professor Tom Nichols. In his latest piece for The Atlantic, Nichols explains that no matter how much “depravity” emerges from the former president, it only serves to deepen the bond between Trump and his hardcore base.

This analysis comes in the wake of new reports that Trump privately praised Adolf Hitler’s generals to his former chief of staff, retired Marine General Mark Kelly, and attempted to renege on an offer to pay for the funeral of a Latina soldier who had died in the line of duty. While these revelations might turn off moderate Republicans that Vice President Kamala Harris needs to win, Nichols suggests that Trump’s most fervent followers are unlikely to be swayed. In fact, such stories may only reinforce their commitment to him.

“The belief that at some point Trump voters will have finally had enough is an ordinary human response to seeing people you care about — in this case fellow citizens — associate with someone you know to be awful,” Nichols wrote. He likens this expectation to watching a friend in an unhealthy relationship. “You think that each new outrage is going to be the one that provokes the final split, and yet it never does: Your friend, instead of breaking off the relationship, makes excuses. He didn’t mean it. You don’t understand him like I do.”

However, Nichols argues, that this analogy misses a crucial point. Trump’s supporters aren’t stuck in a relationship they secretly want to leave. Instead, they are fully invested in it, delighting in how much discomfort Trump causes to those they despise.

“It’s based on the faulty assumption that one of the people in the relationship is unhappy,” Nichols explains. He offers a different analogy: Imagine a high school acquaintance who was once quiet and unpopular, showing up to a reunion with an obnoxious partner — a cross between “Herb Tarlek and David Duke” — who tells offensive stories and racist jokes. “She thinks he’s wonderful and laughs at everything he says,” Nichols writes. “But what she really enjoys is how uncomfortable he’s making you.”

This, Nichols suggests, is the key to understanding Trump’s enduring appeal. His hardcore base revels in the fact that Trump disgusts the people they loathe. Every time he offends, every time he breaks another social norm or sinks to new depths, it only solidifies their loyalty. They aren’t repulsed by his behavior — they’re thrilled by the discomfort it causes others.

Nichols warns that Democrats who fail to grasp this reality could inadvertently help Trump return to the White House. “If Democrats don’t understand this,” he cautions, “they could well help propel him to another victory.”

“I genuinely want to be wrong about all this,” Nichols concludes. “I hope that many of the people now supporting Trump will have an attack of conscience on their way to their polling station. But as Trump’s running mate, J.D. Vance, once wrote for The Atlantic, Trump is ‘cultural heroin,’ and the hard choice of civic virtue will never match the rush of racism, hatred, and revenge that Trump offers in its place.” Ultimately, Nichols argues that the allure of Trump’s cruelty is not just a political strategy — it’s the very foundation of his appeal.