When Political Speech Lost Its Soul

166 years separate two speeches delivered on nearly the same date. The contrast between Lincoln's Cooper Union address of February 27, 1860, and Trump's 2026 State of the Union is not just dispiriting—it's instructive about how far American political discourse has fallen.

One political commentator, seeking to understand this decline, chose to fortify himself not with whiskey before watching Trump's speech, but with Lincoln's words instead. The comparison proved more illuminating than any drinking game could have been.

The Speech That Held America Spellbound

Lincoln's Cooper Union address lasted 90 minutes. When actor Sam Waterston recreated it in 2004 at the same Great Hall in New York City, he wondered if "a speech like this could hold a modern audience's interest." The standing ovation that followed provided a resounding answer.

The original speech targeted three distinct audiences: skeptical Eastern elites questioning whether the frontier lawyer had presidential timber, supporters of Stephen A. Douglas who believed slavery should be decided by popular vote, and hostile Southern opinion leaders. Lincoln navigated complex legal arguments and detailed historical analysis before building to his 20-minute peroration—and the audience remained rapt throughout.

His central insight cut through the political noise with surgical precision: "All they ask, we could readily grant, if we thought slavery right; all we ask, they could as readily grant, if they thought it wrong. Their thinking it right, and our thinking it wrong, is the precise fact upon which depends the whole controversy."

What made Lincoln's speech remarkable wasn't just its moral clarity, but its intellectual honesty. He believed "if slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong," yet he understood that slave states were trapped in an inherited system. He didn't despise his opponents or sneer at them—he engaged their arguments before dismantling them.

The Degradation of Democratic Discourse

Trump's 2026 State of the Union offered a stark contrast. Instead of addressing the nation's pressing challenges—a burgeoning deficit, Social Security's looming bankruptcy, China's rise, technological disruption—Trump focused on bragging about achievements and berating the opposition.

The speech's most contemptible moment came when Trump mused about receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor. This award, often posthumous, recognizes the bravest of America's armed forces. For someone whose alleged bone spurs kept him from Vietnam service to covet such recognition represents a profound moral failing.

Yet Trump didn't invent this corruption—he merely perfected it. Barack Obama famously denounced the Supreme Court's Citizens United ruling while justices sat before him. Joe Biden also mocked Republicans, though with less venom. The State of the Union has gradually transformed from a national address into a partisan battleground.

When Citizens Become Props

Perhaps most troubling is the bipartisan practice of using ordinary citizens as political theater. Recent presidents routinely drag humble Americans into the spotlight, either celebrating their achievements or, worse, exploiting their private grief under national television lights. This reduces people of lesser rank to human props in a political circus, undermining the dignity they deserve.

John F. Kennedy's1963 State of the Union provides a contrasting model. No sharp elbows thrown at political opponents. Balanced tone addressing important issues: tax legislation, mental health care, education expansion. The only personal mentions came at the end—a brief paragraph honoring three fallen soldiers. He spoke as a president should.

The Path Forward

When Trump's presidency eventually ends, the work of reconstruction will be immense. Beyond purging unqualified appointees and repairing damaged institutions, America will need something harder to achieve: a fundamental change in political tone.

Judging by the combative rhetoric from many Democrats eyeing the presidency, this transformation may not be forthcoming. Yet it should be—the American people deserve it, and most voters, exhausted by partisan poison, desperately want it.

The Lincolnesque tone isn't beyond normal politicians—it simply requires leaders who see their role as elevating rather than exploiting their audiences. The question isn't whether such leaders exist, but whether we're willing to listen when they speak.