Trump does not flee reality; rather, he experiences it in a profoundly distorted way because it is entirely self-centered. Taking himself as both the measure and the ultimate purpose of his own actions, he unfolds a methodical madness that produces disasters precisely because it is indifferent to context. Denying to believe.
Is Trump mad? Everyone is asking. Evidently yes, many reply. But what is madness? What causes the mind to function differently from what is commonly regarded as normal? What does “normal” even mean? And is there only one kind of madness? No.
Trump is a narcissist. The label has been applied repeatedly, accompanied by explanations and interpretations that have been more or less convincing or appropriate. Selfish, megalomaniacal, arrogant, dishonest, irresponsible, capricious, unpredictable, deceitful, hypocritical, opportunistic. All of these descriptions have some empirical basis, yet they capture only the visible symptoms of something far more complex, and they do so in a generic and imprecise way. Simply saying that Trump is a narcissist is not enough unless one understands what that actually means. None of these labels adequately explains the underlying nature of what is, in every meaningful sense, a psychological pathology.
Being a narcissist carries profound and far-reaching implications. It concerns the way a person perceives and processes information, constructs the meaning of situations, and, above all, relates those situations to his own self-image. Pathological narcissism is not merely a personality trait. It is not simply a matter of being vain, domineering, or convinced of one’s superiority. It is the inability to conceive of a reality in which one is not superior, not as a matter of choice, but as an innate limitation.
Narcissism is a clinical condition rooted in neurodevelopment during childhood, with lasting consequences for certain cognitive functions throughout the rest of life.
Are narcissists insane? Yes—if by insanity one means perceiving the world, reality, and oneself differently from what the majority of people would regard as mentally normal, with all the nuances that such a definition entails.
At the same time, however, narcissists often appear remarkably lucid. This duality—behaviours that seem perfectly rational alongside reactions that are utterly incomprehensible—lies at the heart of the confusion, astonishment, and disorientation they inspire in others. It also underpins their capacity for manipulation and, consequently, their success, if one may call it that, to which everything else is subordinated.
Yet this contradiction is only apparent.
Despite their individual differences, pathological narcissists share a number of defining characteristics. One of the most important concerns the way they process emotions and respond to perceived external threats directed at the carefully constructed image they have of themselves. That image is essential to their psychological survival; it is the central axis around which they organise reality itself.
The narcissist constructs this self-image as a response to a fundamental inability to be what he is not. It functions as a shell of emotional normality that does not genuinely exist. As a child grows, the pathological narcissist begins to observe other people, their behaviour and their emotions, and imitates what he is incapable of genuinely experiencing himself.
Perhaps the clearest example is empathy, which is not necessarily absent, but it is limited, unstable, and subordinate to other concerns. A narcissist may rationally understand what other people are feeling, but he does not truly experience those feelings, or, at least, not deeply enough for them to exert a lasting and consistent influence on his own behaviour.
This deficit stems from the distinct neurobiological development mentioned earlier. Lacking a direct emotional experience of another person’s suffering, the narcissist feels no spontaneous impulse to prevent it. Consideration for others therefore appears not only unnecessary but often counterproductive, since it may require sacrificing something personally desirable or accepting some form of personal disadvantage.
Unable to grasp another person’s suffering on an emotional level, the narcissist finds it inconceivable that he should incur personal costs simply to avoid causing it.
What he does understand, again, in an exclusively intellectual sense, is how other people typically behave and react emotionally in different situations. And he learns to imitate those responses without actually experiencing them.
In this way, he constructs an artificial reality: a fabricated version of himself.
It is, in essence, a theatrical performance designed solely to serve his own purposes.
Lacking an emotional reality of their own, narcissists are unable to understand the true motivations behind other people’s actions or to interpret their real meaning. They mistakenly assume that everyone else is driven by the same goals and shares the same perspective that they do. Indeed, they are incapable of conceiving of other people as independent individuals at all: people with their own needs, legitimate motivations, or constraints that might lead them to make decisions different from those the narcissist himself desires. Since their own perspective and motivations are, by definition, the only correct ones, any alternative viewpoint is automatically dismissed as either an attempt at sabotage or a personal affront.
Let us return to Trump and take as an example his recent dispute with NATO over the Alliance’s refusal to participate in the attack on Iran. Viewing other people merely as extensions of himself – as entities with no individuality or purpose beyond indulging him and serving his interests, devoid of independent perspectives or motivations—leads Trump to equate his own decisions with the only correct course of action. Whatever he does is, by definition, good; any disagreement is experienced as either a personal insult or an act of sabotage. Those who do not stand beside him are bad, wrong, or traitors. Within his mental framework, there is no other possibility. Otherwise, he would have to admit that he himself might be wrong, something fundamentally incompatible with the constructed identity to which he is viscerally attached, precisely because he lacks a genuine one. The alternative would be psychological annihilation.
The narcissist is an avatar that he has created over the years to compensate for the absence of a real self. It cannot be genuine, because he lacks the capacity to truly experience certain emotions or to genuinely understand certain behaviours—yet these are essential for functioning in society.
So what really led Trump to attack Iran? A threat to the United States? The risk that Iran might develop a nuclear bomb? A desire to rid the world of an “evil” regime out of sincere concern for the freedom of the Iranian people? Netanyahu’s pressure?
Perhaps.
The real reason, however, is his absolute certainty that he can do anything well, that he alone is capable of doing it, and his desire to demonstrate that ability to the world in order to humiliate those poor souls who simply cannot do it, and thereby derive an even greater sense of self-fulfilment. It is a combination of susceptibility to flattery and a complete absence of doubt about the possible fallibility of his own judgement.
Added to this is the belief that, with relatively little effort, there would also be additional rewards: greater domestic popularity, the disappearance of embarrassing scandals, enhanced global deterrence and bargaining power.
Poor Trump!
So was it calculation or madness?
Both.
The mind of a narcissist calculates with precision and cold detachment, but through circuits and logic entirely different from those of a psychologically healthy person. It calculates by placing itself above everything else and subordinating all other considerations. This is not merely because everything else is less important, but because, in the narcissist’s worldview, putting oneself at the centre is what is inherently right. Calculation and madness are not opposing alternatives; they coexist within the same mental system.
In the mind of a narcissist, as in anyone else’s, rationality means following a precise and internally consistent chain of reasoning. The difference is that this reasoning follows a different path, a different mental architecture, driven by clearly defined motives and objectives that it relentlessly pursues. To us, these motives may appear contradictory or even irrational because they differ from those typically pursued by psychologically healthy people. Logic, however, has nothing to do with the content of one’s beliefs; it concerns the coherence of the reasoning process. And the narcissist’s reasoning is perfectly logical within its own frame of reference: the Self.
So yes, there is method in this madness.
For Trump, unpredictability and frequent changes of opinion are not the product of a carefully considered strategy or simply a negotiating tactic. They are the inevitable consequence of the way his mind functions. For a narcissist, changing course or pursuing objectives that appear inconclusive or irrational is entirely necessary whenever doing so serves to validate the fundamental image he holds of himself. He must be right. Any means that reinforces this belief is not merely permissible but indispensable. In this framework, decisions are not made to achieve what the rest of the world assumes to be the real objective, a standard by which the narcissist’s choices appear inconsistent and capricious. Rather, they are made within a system whose fixed point is not the originally declared goal, whether justified or not, but personal advantage and the preservation of one’s self-image. Viewed in relation to these true objectives, such decisions are no longer erratic; they are entirely consistent.
Trump, then, does not change his mind at all. The point is simply that his objective is not the one you think it is. It is not to eliminate an objective threat or to reach an agreement that allows all sides to end a war while ensuring a measure of future stability. His true objective is to ensure that whatever he says and does, and whatever others say and do, can be interpreted in a way that validates his own inherent virtue. Everything else revolves around this axiom. If you acknowledge it and agree with him, he is magnanimous. If you do not, he bombs you. If you act in ways that cast him in a favourable light and confirm that he is the good guy, he will forgive you anything. Otherwise, he destroys you. If you accept his point of view, then a wonderful agreement is just around the corner. If you refuse, you are the one at fault, and therefore he will crush you.
Perfectly coherent.
When Trump announces that the war is about to end and that negotiations are going wonderfully, that is reality in his mind, because otherwise it would mean he had made a mistake. When events prove otherwise, he recalibrates the narrative to fit the new situation, convincing himself that the previous version of reality never truly existed.
Voilà.
For the narcissist, this is consistency, because the frame of reference is always the self. If one decision was advantageous before, and changing circumstances now make the opposite decision more advantageous—again, from his own perspective—then the most logical and consistent course of action is simply to reverse direction. What matters, and what remains constant, is not the decision itself or its objective impact on others, but his own interests, or at least his perception of what those interests are.
It therefore never enters his perspective that launching an arbitrary war and creating the possibility of a global disaster—through the closure of the Strait of Hormuz and the disruption of energy supplies and commercial shipping—could be his responsibility. In his logic, the reasoning is straightforward: I did something for all of you by striking an evil regime, and you are not even capable of dealing with a few inconveniences. Instead of thanking me, you complain. That is your problem. Figure it out yourselves, you useless, ungrateful cowards.
Trump’s disbelief when Meloni refused to provide the support he expected during the Iran war can be explained by his initial conviction that she shared his worldview. He assumed that she believed whatever Trump said or did was always the right thing. Trump never doubted this—how could he? In his mind, there are only two kinds of interlocutors: those who recognise what he does as right (friends), and those who cannot and are therefore mistaken (enemies). Even demanding that Iran reopen the Strait of Hormuz while refusing to make comparable concessions himself is consistent with his need to maintain an image of strength. This comes at the risk of undermining precisely what he actually needs: an agreement. It is an attempt to reaffirm, to everyone, but above all to himself, his own centrality, especially when confronted with what he perceives could be an intolerable display of weakness.
The limitation of this way of operating is obvious. Eventually it runs into a dead end because observable facts and the reality perceived by others contradict the narcissist’s narrative. Yet he is incapable of admitting mistakes or acting against his own self-image. As a result, he continues to reproduce the same pattern, since abandoning it would amount to psychological self-destruction.
There is no escape.
Trump is not a conscious, strategic poker player; he is a poker player compelled by his own psychology. He creates situations that ultimately exceed his control, his calculations, and even his own interests, becoming a victim of his impulsiveness and frustration. Even his attack on the Pope can, at least in part, be understood within this framework: in the relentless effort to be the best, the rules are forgotten, and every possible move is attempted simply to escape being cornered.
Ultimately, what Trump does is to reinterpret reality. Announcements of negotiating progress that has not been confirmed, selective or distorted portrayals of other parties’ positions, and predictions of outcomes unsupported by the facts are not merely communication tools or negotiating tactics. They become integral parts of his reality. Reality is no longer a constraint to which he must adapt; instead, it is something to be bent, reorganised, and, if necessary, rewritten—provided that it remains compatible with his self-image as someone who is righteous, an effective decision-maker, and a winner.
From this perspective, Trump’s behaviour is entirely coherent and logical.
Indeed, it is even predictable.
Originally Published on Limes, Rivista Italiana di Geopolitica – Issue “Lo Scisma d’Occidente” (The Schism of the West), no. 4, 2026
