A political skirmish took a deeply personal turn this week when former President Trump targeted California Governor Gavin Newsom, openly mocking his lifelong struggle with dyslexia. The attack wasn’t a spontaneous outburst, but a calculated attempt to diminish a potential rival for the 2028 presidential election.
The initial jab – a blunt declaration that Newsom was simply “dumb” – quickly ignited a broader conversation. Governor Newsom responded with a powerful message of encouragement, extending beyond his own experience to reach every young person facing learning differences. He declared that dyslexia wasn’t a weakness, but a source of strength, and urged them not to be bullied, even by those in power.
The backlash was swift and substantial. The Yale Center for Dyslexia & Creativity pointed out that roughly one in five Americans navigate the challenges of dyslexia, a condition often misunderstood and unfairly stigmatized. This wasn’t an isolated case of personal struggle; it was a widespread reality impacting millions.
Molly Jong-Fast, a writer and political commentator who also lives with dyslexia, astutely connected the incident to a larger pattern in Trump’s behavior. She argued his tendency to oversimplify complex issues, his resistance to nuance, and his inability to foresee consequences were all hallmarks of a deeply flawed approach – one that ultimately undermines his own goals.
Dyslexia isn’t about intelligence; it’s about how the brain processes language. Reading, a skill many take for granted, requires a complex coordination of brain functions – connecting letters to sounds, sequencing those sounds, and building comprehension. For those with dyslexia, this fundamental process is significantly more difficult, creating a cascade of challenges.
The difficulties extend beyond reading and writing. Dyslexia can impact numeracy, spelling, motor skills, organization, and even social interaction. Early signs often include delayed literacy, but the specific manifestations vary greatly from person to person.
Governor Newsom has been remarkably open about his own experiences. During a recent book tour promoting his memoir, he candidly admitted the difficulty of delivering a speech he couldn’t readily read, revealing a surprisingly modest SAT score. His willingness to share his vulnerabilities is a powerful act of advocacy.
Ironically, Newsom’s critic may share similar neurological traits. In 2019, Harvard education expert Dr. Harriet Feinberg analyzed Trump’s linguistic patterns and suggested dyslexia could explain much of his behavior. She estimated his reading level to be around the fifth grade, sufficient for tweets and teleprompters, but inadequate for in-depth analysis.
Dr. Feinberg’s analysis went further, suggesting that Trump may have compensated for these early learning challenges by cultivating a persona of unwavering confidence, masking his difficulties with bravado and dismissing expertise. This pattern, she argued, began in childhood and has continued to define his approach to power.
The attack on Newsom, then, wasn’t just cruel; it was revealing. Dr. Feinberg posited that Trump’s lifelong struggle with dyslexia, combined with a pre-existing tendency toward revenge and a disdain for intellectual rigor, has fueled his combative style and his rejection of informed counsel.
Attacking someone for a disclosed disability proved to be a misstep, exposing a pattern of behavior that resonates with deeper concerns about Trump’s leadership. While fakery and grandiosity may play well in the media, they are hardly the foundations of effective governance.
Dr. Feinberg’s conclusion is stark: dyslexia may hold the key to understanding the enigma of Donald Trump. His difficulties with learning, coupled with a refusal to listen to experts, have fostered resentment, mistrust, and a dangerous disregard for established norms – all of which pose a significant threat to democratic institutions.
