Trump's name game: a presidential branding spree?
Donald Trump isn't just leaving a legacy; he's plastering his name across the nation at a rate unprecedented in American history. While previous presidents have had airports, dams, and memorials named after them, Trump appears to be engaged in a relentless pursuit of ubiquitous branding, raising questions about the norms of presidential recognition and the potential for self-aggrandizement.
A rapid expansion of presidential branding
Less than eighteen months into what he considers his second term, Trump’s likeness and signature have proliferated on government buildings, institutions, and even currency. Consider TrumpRx, a recently launched prescription drug website offering a limited selection of medications, many available cheaper elsewhere. Or the sudden creation of the “Trump class” of battleships, touted as the largest ever built – a claim that rings hollow considering battleships haven’t seen combat in thirty-five years, casting doubt on the ships' necessity.
The renaming of the US Institute of Peace to the “Donald J. Trump United States Institute of Peace” last December, framed as a symbol of “strong leadership,” occurred just weeks before a renewed conflict with Iran ignited. The takeover of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, culminating in its hasty renaming to the “Donald J. Trump and John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts,” with a jarringly mismatched font change, only amplifies the sense of a president prioritizing personal recognition over established protocol.
The Republican Party, largely complicit, has offered little resistance. Proposals to carve Trump’s face into Mount Rushmore and rename airports after him highlight a disturbing willingness to indulge the president’s ego. As political scientist Steven Levitsky observes, the path to political advancement within the Republican party now seems paved with displays of loyalty to Trump – and few gestures are more potent than affixing his name to public landmarks.
The visual spectacle is striking: giant banners bearing Trump’s image now adorn government buildings in Washington D.C., a scene reminiscent of Soviet-era iconography. Kim L. Scheppele, a sociologist specializing in autocracies, points out the stark contrast between democratic leaders who typically seek recognition after leaving office and dictators who demand constant visual affirmation of their power while still in command. This isn’t merely an honor; it’s a performance of authority.
Beyond the blatant reshufflings, Trump’s influence extends to more subtle, yet equally concerning, avenues. A recent infrastructure proposal hinged on renaming Penn Station and Dulles International Airport after him. The approval of a 24-karat commemorative gold coin featuring Trump standing triumphantly over a desk further underscores this unprecedented self-promotion. Even the US Mint explored designs for a $1 coin bearing a heavily airbrushed profile of the president.
The Treasury Secretary’s justification for Trump's signature appearing on US currency—a “powerful way to recognize historic achievements”—rings hollow when considered alongside the surrounding spectacle. White House spokespersons attempt to deflect criticism, claiming Trump is “focused on saving our country,” but the American public seems less enthralled. The backlash against the 2026 National Parks Pass, which featured a stern portrait of Trump, spurred a cottage industry of sticker producers, a clear indication of public disapproval.
The shift in prioritizing personal branding over established norms raises profound questions about the future of American democracy. While previous presidents sought to be remembered for their contributions to the nation, Trump seems intent on being remembered simply for his name.