Sixty Minutes in the Twilight Zone

Donald Trump’s CBS meltdown reveals a president who doesn’t understand tariffs, nukes, health care, or democracy, but does know he’s “better looking” than Zohran Mamdani.

Good morning! It’s been five years since Donald Trump last sat for a 60 Minutes interview, and it shows. What aired Sunday night wasn’t so much an interview as an extended field study in cognitive decay, delusion, and denial, a slow-motion collapse that CBS wisely trimmed from 73 minutes down to 28, lest the viewing audience perish from secondhand embarrassment.

There he was, the self-styled “very stable genius,” looking orange, shiny, and utterly lost, alternating between claiming the economy is perfect and insisting Democrats are destroying America. The throughline? Trump has no idea what tariffs are, how nuclear weapons work, or what the president actually does.

When pressed about his signature economic policy, those sweeping tariffs that economists say are squeezing Americans like a python around the middle class, Trump puffed up and declared them “the most important issue before the Supreme Court in a hundred years.” When Norah O’Donnell asked what would happen if the Court struck down his authority to impose them, he didn’t hesitate: “If the Supreme Court rules against us, our economy will go to hell. Everything will go to hell.” Conveniently skipped, of course, was the small matter that tariffs have already helped drive up prices on everything from steel to cereal.

Asked point blank whether tariffs were fueling inflation, Trump snapped, “They haven’t led to inflation. We have no inflation. We have zero inflation. Biden had inflation and he didn’t have tariffs. He didn’t use tariffs.”

He denied inflation exists entirely, “It’s done. Gone. Everybody in America is happy right now”, except for beef prices, which he promised to “work on,” perhaps personally, with a fork and knife. Grocery costs? A liberal hallucination. “Nope, you’re wrong. Grocery prices aren’t going up,” he told O’Donnell, who had the gall to suggest otherwise. Recession signals? Fake news. “We have the best economy maybe in the history of the world,” Trump insisted, before adding his favorite bedtime story: “Everybody has a 401(k), everybody’s invested in the market.”

Which, to be fair, is true, if you ignore the roughly 60 percent of Americans who don’t.

The foreign-policy section was pure theater. Trump announced that he has ordered the U.S. to resume nuclear weapons testing, a practice abandoned more than 30 years ago, because “you have to see how they work.” When O’Donnell gently pointed out that the only nation currently detonating nukes is North Korea, Trump shot back, “No, no, Russia’s testing. China’s testing too. You just don’t know about it.”

The president of the United States suggested that the entire global nuclear-monitoring regime somehow missed two major powers secretly blowing things up. One imagines the International Atomic Energy Agency frantically checking Google Earth to see if any island atolls had disappeared under a mushroom cloud.

Asked whether he’d defend Taiwan from invasion, Trump reverted to Mafia-style ambiguity: “You’ll find out if it happens.” He then bragged that he’d “ended eight of nine wars” simply by threatening tariffs, a boast so detached from reality it could’ve been beamed in from Mar-a-Lago’s alternate universe.

Norah O’Donnell, bless her journalistic patience, pressed him: “Mr. President, can you name which wars you’ve ended?” Trump shuffled through his notes and proudly held up a printout. “Here, I have a list. We ended the wars in the Middle East, all of them. We brought peace to the Congo, and we stopped fighting all over Africa.”

O’Donnell, trying to hide her disbelief, pointed out that “there are still active conflicts in Gaza, in Yemen, in the Congo, even today.” Trump brushed it off: “We brought peace. They’ll tell you that. Everyone says that. The fake news just doesn’t report it.”

Which must come as thrilling news to anyone still dodging drones in Yemen or ducking artillery in Ukraine, not to mention the journalists who now need hazard pay just to fact-check his geography.

Back home, Trump used his airtime to cheer on federal agents tackling immigrant mothers in parking lots, declaring that ICE hadn’t gone far enough. “They’re doing a very good job,” he told O’Donnell, “but they’ve got to be tougher. Much tougher. We have to start with a policy, and the policy is: you came into the country illegally, you’re going to go out.”

When O’Donnell pressed, pointing out that viral videos showed ICE agents smashing car windows and tear-gassing neighborhoods in Chicago, Trump didn’t blink. “They should go further,” he said. “You have to have law and order. People love what ICE is doing. They’re heroes.”

He even offered a parting note of benevolence for the deported: “Look, if they’re good people, they can always come back legally. We have great programs for that. Tremendous programs.” A tidy solution for a man who’s never filled out a W-9 in his life, and whose “programs” generally involve cages and cruelty.

When the topic turned to his potential use of the Insurrection Act to deploy the military in U.S. cities, Trump’s eyes practically lit up. “I could use it immediately,” he said. “Immediately. And no judge can challenge you on that. Nobody. They can’t stop you.”

O’Donnell asked whether he’d actually considered doing so during recent protests. Trump smiled: “I think about it all the time. I didn’t do it, but I could have. And frankly, I should get credit for that. Nobody gives me credit.”

He seemed genuinely disappointed he hadn’t tried it yet, promising to “hope for credit” for his restraint, the political equivalent of congratulating yourself for not committing armed robbery today.

When Norah O’Donnell asked Trump if he would finally unveil a health care plan after ten years of promising one, he smiled as if she’d just asked for a unicorn.

“So, will you put forward a health care plan?” she asked.
Trump replied, flatly: “No.”

O’Donnell, incredulous, pressed: “Since 2015 you’ve said you’re going to fix it. So you’re not going to actually give the American people a health care plan?”
“Nope, we’re not,” Trump said. “We almost did it. We were one vote short.”

He didn’t mention that the lone vote came from the late Sen. John McCain, whose refusal to kill the ACA enraged Trump for years. In Trump’s retelling, it’s always “the Democrats” who foiled him, never a Republican with a spine.

That was it, the entire Trump doctrine on American health care, reduced to “the Democrats.”

O’Donnell tried again: “So just to be clear, you’re not proposing anything new to replace the Affordable Care Act?”
Trump shrugged: “We’ll get on it. We’re working on fixing the bad healthcare that we have right now. Terrible. It’s too expensive for the people. Not for the government, for the people.”

Pressed one more time for specifics, he gave the closest thing to a plan we’ve heard in a decade: “I have concepts of a plan. Concepts. Beautiful concepts.”

Concepts, not policies, not coverage numbers, not costs. Concepts, which might as well mean “vibes.”

He then pivoted back to his favorite scapegoat: “You know, we almost had it. One vote short. And we would have had great health care, the best.” That “one vote short” has now become Trump’s “Alamo,” the mythic near-miss that explains everything and excuses nothing.

In the end, his entire policy amounted to a shrug and a slogan. The man who once swore “everyone will be covered, it’ll be so easy” now couldn’t even be bothered to lie convincingly. He’s not fixing it, not replacing it, not even pretending to. Just “concepts.” Beautiful, imaginary concepts.

What makes this shutdown especially galling is what it’s about. The stalemate began because Republicans refused to extend health-care subsidies that keep premiums from spiking for millions of Americans. Their counter-offer? A temporary continuing resolution to “work on a better plan”, the same better plan Trump just confessed doesn’t exist. On 60 Minutes he said it plainly: “No plan. We almost did it. The Democrats stopped us.” That’s it. Ten years of slogans, zero policy. Now the same party is willing to cancel coverage and freeze food aid just to protect the illusion of an imaginary bill. The legislative equivalent of burning down your house to protest the mortgage rate.

Then came the chef’s kiss of corruption: Trump’s insistence that he has “no idea” who Changpeng Zhao, the billionaire founder of Binance, might be, this despite having personally pardoned him last month. “I heard it was a witch hunt,” Trump shrugged, as if he’d just signed a yearbook instead of a federal pardon.

As the BBC drily reported, Zhao’s companies have poured billions into Trump-linked crypto ventures, including Dominari Holdings, where Don Jr. and Eric sit on the advisory board, and World Liberty Financial, the family’s foray into digital monopoly money. Yet Trump, who bragged for decades about knowing every billionaire in the room, now claims total amnesia. “Never met the guy,” he said, then added that his sons “like crypto.” It’s the same energy as a mob boss denying he’s met Tony Soprano because technically the check was signed by Paulie Walnuts.

As Trump sells the illusion of shared prosperity, reality begs to differ. Oxfam America reports that the ten richest U.S. billionaires gained $698 billion in the past year, yes, billion with a “b.” That’s roughly $1.9 billion every day, enough to fund every empty SNAP card Trump’s shutdown has just created. The top one percent have now gained 101 times more wealth than the median household since 1989.

Rebecca Riddell of Oxfam put it bluntly: “Inequality is a policy choice.” Trump’s “one big, beautiful bill”, the upward wealth transfer formerly known as tax reform, is the biggest single leap in that inequality in decades. But Riddell also notes that both parties built this gilded ladder to oligarchy. Republicans did the sawing, Democrats held the nails.

And as if to prove that he’s still number one, and now number two, in government paralysis, Trump has broken his own record for the longest government shutdown in U.S. history. The last record-holder? Also Donald Trump.

On Tuesday night, the lights will have been off in Washington for 35 days, eclipsing his 2019 wall tantrum. This time the issue is health-care subsidies, and the stakes are bigger: millions losing food aid, air-traffic control thinning, childcare centers closing, and EBT cards flashing zeros.

Speaker Mike Johnson called it “utterly shameful”, though he blames Democrats, as does every MAGA loyalist within range of a microphone. Even Republicans admit nothing will move until Trump gives the word, and his only contribution so far has been a Truth Social post demanding Senate Republicans “nuke the filibuster.” Yes, the same “nuclear option” he bragged about on 60 Minutes, which turns out not to be a metaphor anymore.

Watching Trump ramble through this interview was like watching a once-expensive yacht drift into a sandbar, its captain insisting he’s discovered a new trade route. He forgot names, contradicted himself, and sometimes seemed to forget which country he was talking about.

At one point, O’Donnell asked about Zohran Mamdani, the New York City mayoral candidate he’s spent weeks calling a “radical socialist” and “the worst thing that’s ever happened to New York.” Trump blinked, smiled, and replied, “Well, I think I’m much better looking than him. Right? Aren’t I? Much better looking than Mom Donnie?”, mangling the name like it was a riddle he’d never quite solve.

O’Donnell tried again: “Mr. President, are you saying you oppose his policies or just his appearance?” Trump grinned: “Both. I mean, look, he’s a disaster. People say he’s me on the left. But he’s not. He’s… not even close. I mean, nobody’s close to me.”

Moments later, when asked about the ongoing conflict in Gaza, Trump veered into what can only be described as geographic fan fiction: “Gaza’s terrible. Terrible. You know, we never had that when I was president. They respected me in the Middle East, the whole Middle East, Africa, and, frankly, Europe. We had peace everywhere. Total peace. Nobody talks about that.”

By the time O’Donnell pressed him on who exactly was “they,” Trump muttered, “You know, the people. All of them. Everyone respected me.”

He stumbled through topics like a man flipping radio stations in his own brain, Ukraine, Congo, even Alaska got cameos, and at one point, while attempting to describe U.S.-Russia relations, he accidentally said, “America’s doing very well under Putin,” before catching himself and insisting, “I meant under Trump. I meant me.”

It was the sound of a mind unmoored, a monologue that ping-ponged from vanity to vacancy. He might indeed be better looking than Zohran Mamdani, but only if the beauty contest is judged by wax figures that melt when exposed to light.

Late in the interview, O’Donnell asked the question that every functioning democracy should care about but that Trump treats like a coy punchline: “Can you just set the record straight once and for all? You’re not going to try to run for a third term, are you?”

Trump leaned back and smirked, the way a teenager might when asked if he finished his homework. “Well,” he said, “I just don’t think about that. I’ll tell you, a lot of people want me to run. A lot of people.”

O’Donnell tried again: “But the Constitution limits a president to two terms.”

Trump shrugged. “You know, I get that question a lot. We’ll see what happens. Maybe we don’t even need to think about that right now.”

In that moment, the interview veered from comedy into something darker, the casual testing of authoritarian waters. Trump seemed to relish the ambiguity, tossing in a quick jab at Democrats for good measure: “They’re crazed lunatics, these people. Totally nuts. And they say I’m the one who doesn’t follow the law.”

By the tail end of the interview, Trump had drifted so far from the rails he could have filed a missing persons report on himself. He floated the idea that the U.S. should “help” Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu with his ongoing criminal trial, calling it “very unfair to a good man.” A sitting American president offering to meddle in another nation’s judicial process, a small matter of international lawlessness that barely rated a blink.

Then came the CBS settlement riff, the bit so embarrassing it was cut from the broadcast version. “You don’t have to air this,” he told O’Donnell, “but 60 Minutes paid me a lot of money. A lot. Because they took an answer out, a really bad one, two nights before the election. It was election changing. They paid me a lot.” He then launched into a bizarre endorsement of CBS’s new owner, praising its “free press leadership” under far-right influencer Bari Weiss, as though she were Murrow resurrected.

That segued, naturally, into a documents-on-the-floor rant. “They threw my beautiful files all over the floor, took pictures, and said it was my office,” he fumed, recycling his fantasy that the FBI staged evidence during the Mar-a-Lago search. “Those weren’t my boxes. They put them there. They’re crooked people.”

Finally, he took a “fake news” victory lap, reminding viewers that “one of the greatest terms I ever created was fake news.” He insisted again that “tariffs didn’t cause inflation” and somehow managed to claim he’d been “indicted over the Ukraine call,” confusing impeachment with criminal prosecution, a slip that even his lawyers must’ve winced at.

It was more a confessional than an interview, a stream-of-consciousness highlight reel from a man trapped in his own reruns.

What 60 Minutes captured, even through its cautious editing, was a man collapsing under the weight of his own mythology, the first president to hold both records for longest shutdowns, to confuse tariffs with taxes, nukes with metaphors, and pardons with poker chips.

He calls it “the greatest nine months in the history of the presidency.”