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By Marisa Warman Hirschfield ‘27
“STUPID AND UGLY WINDMILLS ARE KILLING NEW JERSEY,” wrote President Trump in a recent Truth Social post. “STOP THE WINDMILLS.” A likely interpretation is that Trump blames wind power for New Jersey's 28% energy price hike.
Trump’s posts have a singular style. They often feature entirely capitalized sentences, replete with incendiary language that makes somewhat banal news – about windmills, for example – attention-grabbing. His communications are so distinctive and effective that Governor Gavin Newsom has adopted it for his own virality needs. Trolling Trump, Newsom’s Press Office tweeted: “FOX & MAGA HAVE NEWSOM DERANGEMENT SYNDROME!!! THEY SHOULD CRY HARDER! SAD!!!” Newsom’s parody account has been a smash hit. In the past month, he has gained over a quarter million followers and more than 225 million impressions on X.
We watch as political discourse decays into nonsense. To match Trump’s influence, Newsom did what social media algorithms required of him: he chose spectacle over substance. As one Politico journalist put it, this digital sparring is “like peering into the near future of what a post-literate presidential campaign might look like.”
There are major implications for us, the constituents, who not only receive this rhetoric, but who may adapt our speech in response. Today, we live in a digital terrain that rewards extreme, emotional, and controversial speech by boosting its visibility and reach. Trump is both a symptom of this toxic terrain and its wellspring – more than any other president, he has made captivating national attention his daily mission. What we’ve learned from his communication tactics is substantial: in our age of distraction, pandering to the algorithm gets you a platform. To go viral, stay shallow, short, and emotional.
Research shows that there’s an inverse relationship between virality and nuance, broadly defined. In an analysis of over 300 million English social media comments over three decades, linguists discovered a general decrease in the length of comments and lexical richness. That is, our speech has become less sophisticated over time – our vocabulary less varied and meaningful. Similarly, in a 2023 study, a research group found that information-scarce tweets are disseminated faster than those with high lexical density. Simply put: less substance translates into more retweets.
Emotional resonance is also a key component of virality. In 2010, two Wharton professors found that emotionally charged New York Times articles were more likely to be sent around via email than neutral articles. A 2023 study of Twitter found a similar pattern: Tweets with negative sentiment spread faster than neutral or positive ones.
What does this tell us? Speech's currency is less about content, and more about attention-capture. Messaging that is able to cut through the noise and reach our senses, overwhelmed by stimuli, might just be the most valuable. This is not a new phenomenon. In Roman times, town square orators also had to reel their audiences in. But what’s different today is that algorithms narrow what kind of speech succeeds in the public forum. Silicon Valley engineers determine what comments are worthy of dissemination, and the way we communicate is changing as a result.
It’s clear, then, why Trump’s style is so successful. By calling windmills “stupid” and “ugly,” rather than attempting to demonstrate this alleged impact on energy costs, Trump appeases our collective attention deficits.
To fight the atrophying of our speech will be arduous. Ultimately, it will require us to recapture our attentional capacities from the algorithms, allowing us to decide for ourselves what speech is worthy of our energy.
College students have a leg up in the endeavor to revive quality speech. In seminars, we are encouraged to have reasoned debates, characterized by critical thinking rather than rage bait. Good professors give us time and resources to study multiple angles of an issue, leading us to draw conclusions that are grounded in research and reason. Our papers aren’t written to be “buzzy,” but to inform, explore, and create. When we are the coders, politicians, tweeters, and consumers, ourselves part of the communication apparatus, we must do better.
In these exploratory four years, complexity is our capital. Let’s resist attention-seeking soundbites and opt for more responsible speech – we’re in just the place to do so.
Marisa Warman Hirschfeld ’27 studies History and Creative Writing and is a Princetonians for Free Speech Writing Fellow
In Part I of this series, I wrote that President Eisgruber’s Terms of Respect deserves credit for clearly distinguishing between free speech as a moral principle and the First Amendment as a legal doctrine, and for rejecting the simplistic claim that universities violate free speech whenever they regulate expression.
In Part II, I analyzed one of the sources of that reluctance and its surprising influence in bringing Eisgruber to this point.
Now we can get to the heart of the book. Eisgruber’s novel approach to campus free speech issues builds on this foundation, to argue that campus free speech issues aren’t really campus issues, and aren’t really about free speech. Rather, campuses reflect national divisions in microcosm, and the division is not about speech and its discontents, but about “the meaning of respect and, ultimately, what it means to treat people as equals.” He ultimately concludes that while speech has to foster constructive dialogue and truth-seeking, the controversies making waves are about the terms on which that constructive dialogue occurs—which is a good thing, as Eisgruber and his critics alike agree—and that universities are closer to being models (albeit imperfect ones) than sources of the problem. It’s this surprising take that gives Terms of Respect its punch and has made Eisgruber a minor folk hero among academia’s defenders.
The U.S. Department of Defense will end sponsorship for graduate students at Princeton and other Ivy League institutions beginning in the 2026–27 academic year, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth ’03 announced in a video on social media Friday.
Hegseth said the Pentagon would stop funding active military students’ attendance in graduate programs, fellowships, and certificate programs at dozens of “elite” universities, which he characterized as incompatible with military training priorities.
In a series of February memos, the University informed faculty and non-union staff of raise cuts and benefit reductions for the coming fiscal year, with a decrease in personnel also on the horizon.
The adjustments to employee pay and benefits came shortly after the annual State of the University letter from University President Christopher Eisgruber ’83 reported that the University would be tightening its budget primarily due to declining long-term endowment return expectations and continued uncertainty over federal funding. Eisgruber discussed some of the raise cuts at his annual Council of the Princeton University Community town hall on Feb. 9.
