The Bully Pulpit: How Presidents Lead the Nation (and How Trump Blew It)

It is a sad thing for the current occupant of the White House, and for whatever legacy he may leave to posterity, that the term “bully pulpit” has nothing to do with the sort of bullying at which he excels. If only making fun of people, giving them mean nicknames, and rousing supporters to hate one’s enemies constituted a useful presidential skill — then we might have to think twice before calling Donald Trump’s presidency an abject failure.

Unfortunately, though, when Theodore Roosevelt coined the term “bully pulpit,” he was not thinking of that kind of bullying. He meant it as an adjective. “Bully for England” meant “good for England.” A “bully chap” was a fine fellow. And a “bully pulpit” was a good platform, as in neat, nifty, swell, the bee's knees, the cat’s pajamas — that sort of thing.

What Roosevelt realized was that the President of the United States spoke from a unique position — not that of a monarch, since the president was elected by the people. But not that of an ordinary citizen either. Presidents command crowds. People care what they have to say. Newspapers print it, television stations broadcast it, bloggers blog about it. In Roosevelt’s day, as in our own, anything a president says will be listened to and given special attention just by the fact that the president is saying it.