For many years now, Donald Trump has been saying awful things to – or about – the female media figures who have the nerve to ask him questions and challenge his falsehoods.
“Quiet, Piggy,” he ordered a Bloomberg reporter, Catherine Lucey, last year in a press gaggle when she pushed him about the release of the Epstein files.
“A corrupt reporter,” he called Kaitlan Collins of CNN, claiming that she had “hatred in her eyes”.
“You’re either crooked or stupid,” he lashed out at Kristen Welker last weekend on NBC’s Meet the Press, before he stormed off in a huff.
Way back in 2015, he even said publicly that the then Fox News host Megyn Kelly, who assertively questioned him during the first Republican debate, had “blood coming out of her eyes, blood coming out of her wherever”.
Trump is often insulting to male journalists, too, of course, but he seems to have a next-level hatred for women, especially those with a regular on-air presence. (He’s also insulting to print-based female journalists, though it can be less visible; he has frequently, for example, referred on social media to New York Times star reporter Maggie Haberman as “maggot”. She’s been undaunted, but that doesn’t make it anywhere close to acceptable.)
Whether the reason is straight-up misogyny, performative defensiveness, more of his usual distract-and-deny method, or something else, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is that the insults and the lies keep happening and must stop.
And yet, the female journalists who cover him – and their bosses – seem to have no answer for this except to tolerate it and keep coming back for more. All in the name of professionalism.
Surely, there must be a better approach, not only for the journalists who withstand this abuse but also for the American public, which deserves to get straight answers.
Welker, for example, ticked off Trump – who abruptly walked off the interview set, dismissively calling her “darling” – because she kept pressing him for any evidence for his claims about supposedly rigged elections and other settled points of fact.
She earned praise for her persistence, but it was still painful to see her repeatedly imploring Trump, calling him “sir”. while he boorishly talked over her and lied.
I suggest these elements of a possibly better approach.
First, have the “receipts” handy. If journalists can immediately confront Trump with audio or video of his past statements, it’s harder for him to bluster – and it gives the power in the interview back to the journalist.
For example, Trump lied when Welker brought up his frequent statements during and just after the 2024 presidential campaign that he wouldn’t start any wars.
Obviously, his misguided war with Iran proves that wrong, but Trump claimed in the interview that he never made such a promise.
This would have been a great moment for Welker to produce the receipts and demonstrate that he did. Go to the tape. (Granted, this interview, which took place in a Wisconsin barn during a rainstorm, might have presented some logistical challenges, but the principle remains the same.)
Second, use more direct confrontation about the lies. Stop normalizing Trump, as if he’s a regular politician who made a chance misstatement or is spinning the facts a little.
How about something like this:
“Why do you keep lying about rigged elections when there’s absolutely no evidence?”
Or this: “You keep lying about what happened on January 6 when we all know exactly what happened.”
That surely will mean more attacks about “fake news” and supposed media corruption, but it is a stronger approach, nonetheless.
Third, make it a practice to cut off the interview if he keeps lying or begins using insults. And be as transparent as possible: tell the public and the president why that’s happening or could happen, like this:
“We’re going to end this interview rather than let you continue to make false statements to the public.”
Of course, for journalists and their media bosses, there’s a downside to these tougher approaches: less access.
A particular journalist or news outlet could be barred from interviewing Trump again, or even allowed into various gatherings – briefing rooms, press gaggles.
In today’s competitive and largely corporate media environment, access to powerful government officials is prized.
So much is driven by ratings and the bottom line. That’s, in part, why reporters rarely stick up for each other in a show of journalistic solidarity – another effort that might make a difference over time.
There’s a perceived advantage, if not a real one, in being the reporter who politely continues, and keeps up the barrage of “but, sir” protests.
But this does no good. Trump doesn’t stop lying or admit he’s wrong.
And, undeterred, he also doesn’t stop insulting and disparaging.
Piggy. Darling. Fake. Corrupt.
It’s past time that journalists and their bosses decide that this is unacceptable. And do something about it.
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Margaret Sullivan is a Guardian US columnist writing on media, politics and culture
