I Alone Can Fix It - Book Summary

The 2020 roller coaster of American politics and pandemic

As the calendar flipped to 2020, the United States was stirring in a whirlwind of contention and disunity. On one side were Americans firmly in favor of their unconventional leader, while many others were his fervent detractors. But even through the discord, the nation had its silver linings — a robust economy and strong employment figures painted a promising picture. Regrettably, by year's end, this semblance of prosperity had crumbled. The nation faced an economic downturn, deepened societal rifts, and a staggering loss of life from the COVID-19 pandemic.

However, this chaos wasn’t solely the nemesis COVID-19's doing. Another antagonist played a pivotal role — President Donald J. Trump. In this exploration, we'll dive deep into Trump's last year steering the United States. We'll seek to untangle the complex web of decisions and actions that marked his presidency during one of the most tumultuous years in recent memory.

Before we set off, a heads up: some of the stories ahead include strong language, reflecting the tenor of the times.

From a voyage through a global health crisis without a mask to a pride-wounded reaction to the surging Black Lives Matter protests, we'll uncover the layers behind Trump's conduct. Notably, we'll attempt to make sense of the shocking events that led his supporters to besiege the nation's Capitol building in early 2021. Buckle up — it's going to be a revealing ride.

Amidst celebrations, a silent threat grows unnoticed

On the last day of 2019, amidst the buzz of Mar-a-Lago's New Year's Eve festivities, President Trump raised a glass, brimming with optimism for the year ahead. The notes of Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" echoed as declarations of a "fantastic" upcoming year filled the air. But while the president reveled, a shadow loomed on the horizon, unnoticed by the merrymakers.

Dr. Robert Redfield, the director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), held a starkly different sentiment. If worry could be measured, his cup was certainly overflowing. A troubling email had landed in his inbox, detailing a mysterious virus outbreak in Wuhan, China — an emerging crisis that seemed to escape the president's immediate attention.

The looming specter was COVID-19, a new coronavirus already showing signs of high infectivity. Public health officials like Redfield saw the patterns, having faced threats before. Memories of the "Spanish flu," and more recent brushes with diseases like SARS and bird flu H7N9, provided a grim context. They knew the devastation respiratory diseases could unleash, and Redfield had warned the year prior that another zoonotic leap was inevitable.

As January unfolded, the virus showed its viral tenacity, with hundreds of cases in China and sightings in Thailand and France. The ominous notes of the pandemic reached the president's desk, but they played second fiddle to his preoccupations with impeachment proceedings and a vaping controversy — a pressing issue threatening his voter base.

Health Secretary Alex Azar tried to raise the alarm with Trump directly on January 10, but the president's focus was diverted. Miffed by Azar's association with the vaping ban and more concerned with his appearance for the next social engagement, the gravity of the looming pandemic failed to capture Trump's full attention. The gears meant to defend and safeguard the nation were grinding slowly, precariously, as the silent threat of COVID-19 crept closer. This was the undercurrent — as tuxedos were fitted and glasses clinked — that would soon become a tidal wave of urgency.

When pandemic met politics: A struggle for priority

As January 2020 waned, the coronavirus was tightening its grip on China. The visuals were harrowing — hospitals overflowing, crematoriums laboring without pause, an entire region shuttered. This was not an isolated health crisis; this was an echo of the harshest pandemic history pages, reminiscent of the catastrophic Spanish flu of the past century.

Yet, in President Trump’s eyes, the unfolding disaster was less of a health emergency and more of a political grenade. The scientific alarms clashed with the siren songs of political ambition.

Reports reached the Oval Office with an urgent whisper of science: the virus could be transmitted by people who didn't even know they were sick. This insidious trait of COVID-19 meant traditional defenses like airport temperature screenings were nearly useless. Experts were unequivocal in their briefings — this virus posed a fundamental threat to national and global security.

Yet Trump wavered, caught at the crossroads where public welfare met economic performance. He was acutely aware that a vibrant economy was his ace for the upcoming elections. While his personal approval ratings wavered, trust in his economic stewardship soared high. But as the pandemic's shadows lengthened, his team had to paint him a dreary fiscal picture — the economy could hemorrhage nearly four trillion dollars if the virus ran rampant.

Thus began the tug-of-war within the Trump administration — how to combat the virus without unsettling the foundations of what seemed like certain electoral success? Inroads into this conundrum led to a travel ban on flights to and from China, deemed a necessary evil despite initial hesitance to avoid market turmoil.

Trump's approach became a dance of strategic ambiguity, quelling fears in public and downplaying concerns from international allies like Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. When the CDC's bleak predictions shook Wall Street, Trump's reaction was furious, demanding a retreat from such alarming narratives. Ultimately, this stance cost Health Secretary Azar his influence, as Vice President Mike Pence was handed the reins of the newly formed coronavirus task force.

In the arena where the art of science and the science of politics squared off, the scales tipped, and it was political calculus that claimed the victory, setting the stage for the nation's pandemic response.

A leadership crisis compounds a health crisis

The ides of March in 2020 brought with them an urgency the world had not felt in generations. With COVID-19 declared a global pandemic and cases snowballing outside China, the U.S. stood at the brink of a public health catastrophe. The debate within the White House swung like a pendulum — between advisers who saw lockdown as the only salvation and those who feared economic stagnation.

Facing a grim scenario that teetered between potential mass casualties and an economic nosedive reminiscing the Great Depression, President Trump found himself in a vortex. Initially reluctant to hinder economic activity, he eventually proclaimed a national lockdown on March 16, signaling a momentous effort to stave off the virus.

However, Trump's actions muddied the waters of the very crisis messaging his government was attempting to convey.

His penchant for public reassurance often backfired due to his improvisational communication style. A particularly jarring example was his travel suspension announcement that went awry — causing market turmoil and panic at airports as citizens rushed to return to American soil. In the frenzy, critical health safety protocols like testing and social distancing evaporated into the chaos at the terminals.

The confusion was not limited to travel advisories. Against a backdrop of pharma giants racing to develop a vaccine, Trump touted hydroxychloroquine — a drug unproven against COVID-19 — as a miracle cure. His cavalier attitude towards unverified treatments reached an alarming peak when he suggested, inexplicably, that disinfectants like bleach could be investigated as a preventative measure against the virus.

It became increasingly evident that Trump's response was at odds with his administration's official health guidelines. CDC director Robert Redfield's straightforward plea — wear a mask — was met with the president's vanity; Trump believed masks diminished his strength. Social distancing advice similarly fell on deaf ears, evidenced by his dismissive attitude towards attending a close-contact event at Mar-a-Lago. The president's retort, "Screw it, we're going," was reflective of an administration in discord with its own health directives, adding dissonance to the national effort to combat a relentless invisible enemy.

Self-perception above all: Trump's image-driven response to national unrest

For President Trump, perception was paramount, ever eclipsing policy or pragmatism. His self-portrayal as a figure of strength molded his decisions, from dismissing masks to ordering the elimination of Iranian general Qasem Soleimani. Even amid a burgeoning pandemic, it was not data but disturbing images of a beleaguered Queens that ultimately swayed his hand towards a national lockdown.

Then, the murder of George Floyd on May 25 triggered a national crisis that would test the president's image further. Tragically, Floyd's name joined a litany of Black Americans whose fatal encounters with law enforcement sparked widespread protests against racial injustice.

Initially, Trump's reaction to Floyd's death was uncharacteristically emotional, posing a sharp "What the fuck?" to those around him. However, as civil unrest unfurled across cities, so did his focus shift to how these events would reflect on him.

As the protests grew, encompassing peaceful demonstrations along with sporadic violence and looting, right-wing media zeroed in on fiery scenes — presenting a narrative wherein America teetered on the brink of chaos, with Trump seemingly absent from the helm.

On May 29, with protestors amassing outside the White House, the Secret Service whisked Trump to an underground bunker — an episode which, once publicized, clung to him as an emblem of fear. Stung by this portrayal, Trump veered towards more confrontational rhetoric.

He echoed the sentiment of networks like Fox News and espoused a heavy-handed approach, casting protestors as "thugs" and invoking a notoriously aggressive adage: "When the looting starts, the shooting starts." The president's inclination to prioritize his image as a man of unyielding resolve had steered his response to a defining national moment. It was a pattern set to reverberate throughout the rest of the year, as a self-perception of power and bravado eclipsed gestures towards unity or healing.

Reelection in the balance: rallies at the heart of the pandemic chaos

In a year already brimming with outrage and upheaval, the summer of 2020 brought forth a grim milestone — the United States surpassed 100,000 deaths due to the coronavirus. Rather than commemorating this somber moment, President Trump was occupied with golf, his gaze fixed on the horizon of the upcoming election.

The battle against racial injustice and the relentless pandemic were brushed aside in the president's mind — mere hurdles on the path to reelection.

Campaign gatherings became emblematic of Trump's turbulent and often disjointed strategy in dealing with the health crisis that had gripped the nation.

The key message here is: The return to campaign rallies mirrored the disarray in Trump's pandemic strategy.

As summer heated up, it seemed the pandemic advisories had fallen on the president's deaf ears. For him, reelection remained the paramount objective, superseding any concern for public health guidance.

In defiance of his administration's caution, Trump rebooted his campaign with all the fanfare he thrived on. His decision to jumpstart with an indoor event in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on June 20 was a declaration that he had overpowered the "fucking virus."

Nevertheless, reality fell short of expectation. The promise of packed venues under vibrant lights faded, as only 12,000 attendees arrived to muster their support in an arena with space marked for thousands more. Conspicuously absent were face masks, and nearby testing sites closed prematurely after a spate of positive tests among event staff leaked out.

The rally's contagion ripple was swift — almost 900 new cases emerged in Tulsa County shortly after, setting a distressing local record. Notable personalities like Oklahoma Governor Kevin Stitt were among those who tested positive. Former presidential candidate Herman Cain was less fortunate, succumbing to the virus weeks later.

The Tulsa rally came to symbolize the president's missteps during the pandemic. The irony was stark; guidelines from his own experts were cast aside, and public safety was gambled for the sake of political theater. The fallout weighed heavily on Trump's approval ratings, sinking as public frustration mounted. With a clear majority of voters disenchanted by his pandemic response, it was a telling sign of an administration's priorities — and a presidency's precarious stance in the face of a national health emergency.

Paranoid politics: How Trump's fears eroded his election prospects

As summer waned, America stood on the brink of a heart-wrenching milestone — 200,000 lives lost to the unwavering march of COVID-19. Amidst this grim reality, President Trump found his approval ratings plummeting.

Advisors counseled hope, urging the president to instill a sense that the nation could emerge from this prolonged dark chapter. Yet Trump bristled at the suggestion. Exasperated, he retorted with his own fatigue, signaling an administration resigned to the virus's relentless tide.

Conceding to the virus was one matter; acquiescing to electoral defeat, however, was unconceivable for Trump.

A disturbing undercurrent of distrust and apprehension began to overshadow the final stretch of his campaign.

The key message here is: Trump's deepening suspicion began to erode his political standing.

Warnings of electoral fraud and rigged systems peppered Trump's rhetoric as early as September. Challenged on his commitment to a peaceful power transition, the president offered no assurances, instead gesturing towards a future riddled with inaccuracies and fraud.

His theory of rigging extended beyond the ballot boxes to the pharmaceutical industry, where he accused companies like Pfizer of withholding vaccine progress to tarnish his reelection bid. Despite Health Secretary Alex Azar's attempts to explain the importance of rigorous vaccine testing, Trump disregarded logic — perceiving instead a conspiracy against him.

In an atmosphere rife with mistrust, Trump's own choices often exacerbated his precarious situation. His public attacks on Dr. Anthony Fauci — a stalwart in the fight against the virus and a figure respected by the moderate electorate — were self-sabotaging. One telling exchange between advisors summed up the incredulity with an "LOL" to the question of whether targeting Fauci was a strategic recommendation.

The seeds of paranoia Trump had sown were germinating into a thorny path leading up to November. With every unfounded claim and discordant action, his chances narrowed, leaving the election increasingly within Joe Biden's reach.

Untouched by personal peril: Trump's unchanged stance post-COVID encounter

The White House had become synonymous with leaks, often the source of damaging front-page stories. Within its walls, a relentless hunt for the suspected "moles" persisted, yet the infiltration of a far more lethal intruder — the coronavirus — was oddly underestimated.

Protecting the president, especially given his age and potential risk factors, should have been imperative. However, a perplexing guard was let down.

The key message here is: even a direct confrontation with COVID-19 left Trump's pandemic stance unaltered.

By the close of September, it was evident something was off kilter with President Trump. His voice took on a raspy timbre, vigor waned, and prolonged slumbers usurped his usual routine. Tests confirmed what was feared, yet publicly downplayed — the president had contracted COVID-19.

The administration's outward calm belied the internal scramble as doctors witnessed Trump's oxygen levels plummet, teetering on the brink of a dire hypoxic state. The president was hospital-bound, a decision secured by the implication of a potential power shift to the vice president.

His hospital stay involved an array of treatments, including monoclonal antibodies and dexamethasone. After a week, his condition stabilized, and the staff hoped this brush with mortality might recalibrate his outlook on the pandemic, offering a renewed connection with an electorate skeptical of his management thus far.

But Trump eschewed vulnerability, instead opting for a display of defiance — having himself photographed in the hospital while ostensibly working, though without any actual tasks at hand, to feign uninterrupted leadership.

It was a misjudgment, one that ignored the public's yearning not for an unassailable figure but for a leader who, as one strategist remarked, "gave a shit about them." The bout with the virus presented an opportunity for empathy, for a moment of shared struggle with a nation in pain. Instead, the president remained committed to his strongman facade, missing a critical moment to pivot and potentially reclaim trust from an electorate facing its own battles with an unforgiving pandemic.

Victory proclaimed without a full count: Trump's premature election assertion

The ebb and flow of election night tallies has often misled initial perceptions, as experienced during the 2016 presidential race. Four years later, a similar pattern emerged, albeit with roles reversed. Initial results favored Trump only to be gradually eclipsed by a surge in mail-in ballots predominantly cast for his opponent, Biden.

Yet, what was a straightforward counting process became, in Trump's portrayal, an election heist narrative.

The key message here is: Trump declared victory in the presidential election prematurely, disregarding the ongoing vote count.

Despite unfavorable forecasts, as the early November votes rolled in, Trump's reelection seemed within the realm of possibility. His performance in key demographics hinted at a fighting chance, provided that initial optimism could sustain through the night.

However, the anticipated "blue wave" began to manifest. Biden's numbers rose as mail-in ballots were tallied, slowly overtaking Trump in battleground regions. Amid mounting tension, Fox News's early call of Arizona for Biden sent shockwaves through the president's camp, igniting fury and disbelief.

Amid the chaos, Trump found an ally in his lawyer, Rudy Giuliani. With Giuliani's encouragement and in stark contrast to the counsel of dismayed aides, Trump embraced the idea of preemptive self-declaration as the electoral victor.

And so, facing dwindling leads, Trump embraced Giuliani's advice over the pleas of his staff. In an assertion devoid of formality, Trump announced his landslide win — a narrative that disregarded the uncounted votes and brushed aside the gradual erosion of his early advantage.

Later, in the early hours, in an address to his 74 million voters, he reinforced the unfounded notion that the evolving official results should be met with skepticism. His speech, delivered against the backdrop of ongoing ballot counts, rattled the bedrock of democratic tradition. It signaled the beginning of a contentious fight over the veracity of the nation's electoral process, with the integrity of the vote count squarely in the spotlight.

A bid for defiance: Trump's legal maneuvers culminate in January's clash

As the calendar marked November 5 and the vote tallies for the 2020 presidential election rolled in, Biden's path to victory began crystallizing from the fog of the initial count. In response, Trump championed a narrative of electoral malfeasance, publicly demanding a cessation of the counting process through fervent declarations across social media.

His campaign shifted gears from electoral competition to legal combat, with the aim to discard late-arriving votes that favored his adversary.

The key message here is: Trump's legal wrangle to cling to power reached an apex in the January proceedings.

Skepticism over Trump's legal pursuits pervaded, with few believing the challenges would bear fruit. Even U.S. Attorney General Bill Barr likened Trump's charges of fraud to an emperor lackingly attired — an illusion in need of confrontation.

State after state, court after court, the allegations were examined and quickly dismissed. Trump's gaze turned to the Supreme Court, buoyed by his appointments sitting on the bench. Yet, here too, he met with rebuff as the Supreme Court on December 8 declined to entertain his assertions.

The presidential transition appeared inexorable as states ratified their counts on December 14, casting Biden as the electoral victor. Undeterred, Trump fixated on one last procedural vestige — the formal congressional affirmation of the electoral college results set for January 6, 2021.

Trump's interpretation of the vice president's role in this constitutional ritual was unorthodox. He envisaged a scenario where Vice President Mike Pence could spurn the submitted electoral results, initiating a cascade of legislative deliberation likely favorable to Trump, engendered by Republican-controlled assemblies.

This unconventional scheme set the stage for a finale fraught with tension and uncertainty. What typically unfolded as a perfunctory congressional session was now poised to become a flashpoint, marking perhaps the most contentious and climactic moment of a presidency characterized by persistent rebellion against political norms.

Chaos descends: The turbulent conclusion of Trump’s presidency

The air vibrated with tension on January 6, 2021, as the nation's capital braced itself. A formidable crowd, tens of thousands strong, rallied as Giuliani stoked the fervor, labeling Trump's electoral adversaries as "criminals" and seemingly invoking medieval tactics for resolving the impasse.

When Trump himself addressed the gathering, he pointed to Vice President Pence as the keystone for clinching victory and set the direction for the masses toward the Capitol.

The key message here is: Trump's final gambit spiraled into a fatal riot.

While Trump's inner circle recognized the fruitlessness of his ambitions, the situation was gravely misread by the masses. Fueled by conviction, they converged on the Capitol, not merely to protest but to force a reversal of the election's outcome.

Law enforcement, assailed by rioters armed with tactical gear and peppered with coordinated communication, was rapidly overrun. The riot punctuated itself with violence and tragedy: five lives extinguished, including that of a police officer and a rioter who was slain amidst the escalating confrontation.

Inside, figures of the nation's leadership narrowly evaded the irate intruders, Pence himself mere moments away from a hostile encounter despite the rioters’ chants. Staffers, consumed by dread, sought refuge in the most unassuming corners they could find.

Trump was conspicuously absent from any immediate response. While his vice president orchestrated an emergency reaction from a clandestine location, Trump was ensconced before his television screen until, eventually, compelled by Biden's public entreaty, he disseminated a video — a mixture of a plea for withdrawal and an affirmation of the rioters’ status.

The Capitol ultimately reclaimed its composure, its halls cleared by military intervention, and the electoral certification resumed. In the dead of night, Congress affixed its seal on Biden's electoral triumph.

Trump was cornered, his defeat undeniable and irrevocable. The subsequent day, amidst the fallout, Twitter made the unprecedented decision to suspend his account, disarming the principal tool through which he had waged his assault on the democratic norms of America.

In the aftermath, as silence supplanted the once incessant stream of Trump's tweets, the echoes of a beleaguered yet enduring democratic process rang out, signaling the closure of one of the most polarizing chapters in the nation's political narrative.

From high hopes to history's twists: A tale of a presidency upended

In early 2020, the political stars seemed to align for Donald Trump. With approval ratings bolstering his confidence, the prospect of reelection appeared not just likely but almost assured. Yet, by the year's end, his fortunes reversed dramatically, with Joe Biden, a rival he had openly belittled, seizing the mantle of President-Elect.

What was the crucial pivot? For Trump, it was the unanticipated onslaught of COVID-19. His handling of the pandemic would become his defining challenge — one marked by delayed responses, conflicts with health experts, and a series of missteps that would ultimately eclipse the initial promise of his campaign.

The key message in this final summary is: In the face of a spiraling health crisis, Trump's path to maintain power steered the nation toward a profound constitutional test.

Trump's pandemic mismanagement eroded the confidence of many, leaving him with dwindling options to secure his position. As the votes were counted and his chances faded, Trump resorted to legal maneuvers and incendiary rhetoric, all of which culminated in the harrowing events of January 6, the day a sitting president's supporters stormed the Capitol.

In the wake of the violence and a nation on edge, a new leader was affirmed, and a page was turned. Trump's tenure, once positioned to stride confidently into history, instead concluded with a republic shaken and in search of healing, having narrowly averted a full-blown political crisis.