The same dark figure lurks behind everything Donald Trump does

When I think of America’s so-called president and the way he goes about his job, the same phrase pops into my head: “Nice little country you got there. It’d be a shame if something were to happen to it.”

Trump speaks the language of mobsters. He threatens, bullies and makes deals pretty much the same way as do the Corleones and Sopranos. Justice flows one way. If we don’t like it, tough.

The MAGA universe appears to view this uncivilized behavior as brute strength to be admired. The rest of us see it as boorish and beastly. But whatever you want to call it, it seems to have been ripped from the pages of a manual for organized crime.

As a huge fan of The Sopranos, I immediately recognized this White House gang’s style. In fact, having written a 2024 companion book, The Sopranos: The Complete Visual History, I feel uniquely qualified to compare methods — and to outline how Trump steals from Tony Soprano.

Here are the parallels I see:

• Loyalty over competence: Loyalty is prized over all else. Tony rewards people who are loyal first and effective second. In the mob, you back the boss, even when he’s wrong. Trump rules in much the same way, valuing fealty, whether someone is with him, over anything approaching expertise. One moment of disloyalty and you’re radioactive.

• Family as power structure: Tony’s belief system is inseparable from the interests of his extended mob clan. Trump has obliterated the line between government and family business, creating a vibe more New Jersey than D.C. Blood — or brand — outranks institutions.

• Public bluster, private grievance: Both Tony and Trump project dominance while obsessing over even the tiniest supposed slight. Tony stews. Trump posts. Different mediums, same psychology. Respect is currency. The boss is always the victim. The mob boss sees himself as persecuted even while dominating the room. To Trump, investigations are “witch hunts,” losses are “rigged,” criticism is “abuse.”

• Omertà over transparency: Tony’s people simply don’t talk to outsiders, especially authorities. Trump’s inner circle treats the media, investigators, even Congress as hostile forces. Silence, stonewalling, and counterattacks carry the day. Truth isn’t denied so much as deemed irrelevant.

• Titles are cover stories: In organized crime, everyone has a job title that obscures what they really do — mostly, protecting the boss and the family. In Trump’s second term, aides hold official roles while functioning as enforcers (Secretary of War Pete Hegseth), propagandists (Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt), or validators (Chief of Staff Susie Wiles).

• Threats are vague, but targeted: In both the Jersey and D.C. mobs, there is constant talk of investigations, prosecutions, or retaliation without specifics, so as to diminish accountability while ratcheting up fear. The result is that targets self-censor and retreat without the boss having to act.

• Enemies linger round every corner: Critics are reframed as enemies, traitors, or criminals. Tony always believes he’s under siege from rival families and the FBI, while Trump blames “radical left Democrats” and the press while allies not considered loyal enough are “RINOs” (Republicans In Name Only). Institutions that resist are deemed corrupt.

• Constant internal jockeying: Mob crews are rife with paranoia. Today’s favorite is tomorrow’s rat. Trumpworld thrives on chaos: aides competing for favor, testing boundaries, signaling loyalty to avoid suspicion. Confusion itself is a strategy.

• Morality is transactional: Right or wrong are flexible if it benefits the boss. Tony calls it “business.” Trump calls it “deals.” Principles are useful until they aren’t.

• Retaliation is the point: In Tony’s world, punishment isn’t just about correction; it’s a matter of sending a message. Trump and his people often seek vengeance openly, against critics, prosecutors, journalists, former allies, everyone. Even symbolic punishment is enough as long as everyone gets the message. Fear subs for governance.

• Public performance of strength: Tony and his minions are all about showcasing dominance: expensive suits, loud bravado, exaggerated confidence. Trump’s circle exhibits strength through rallies, social media posts, press appearances, and absolutist rhetoric. Setbacks are reframed as triumphs. Admitting weakness would be a grievous, unforgivable sin.

• The mess left behind is massive but somebody else’s problem: With both “families,” the boss must outlive the institutions surrounding him. People, norms, and the system take the hit while Tony and Trump insist it is they who were treated unfairly.

• Bullying beats diplomacy: The expectation that people at the top of the mob food chain will behave honorably is wielded as a good cop/bad cop negotiation strategy. In Trump’s presidency, a “might makes right” mentality works to both bludgeon opposition and intimidate foes into compliance.

• Bottom line: The Sopranos is about power without accountability pretending to be family. Trump and his aides are about power without accountability pretending to be adored by the masses.

It should also be noted that for all the unabashed criminality and institutional corruption of the characters on The Sopranos, its community nonetheless had a moral center the Trump-o-sphere lacks: Dr. Jennifer Melfi (Lorraine Bracco,) the empathetic, supportive, ethical, and principled psychiatrist struggling to help Tony look himself in the mirror.

Dr. Melfi did her best to analyze and contextualize. She was attacked and/or dismissed when the truth became untenable, but at least she tried. And her work often exposed some form of self-professed honor at the root of Tony’s behavior.

There is no such voice of conscience or sanity in Trump’s circle today. Therein resides a problem that has been examined ad infinitum over the last year: the lack of any adult voice in the room.

You know we’re in serious trouble when a fictitious mobster carries a more urgent sense of integrity and accountability than a real-life American president.

• Ray Richmond is a longtime journalist/author and an adjunct professor at Chapman University in Orange, CA.