Trump complained, Time reacted: It’s the kind of media choreography we live for, is it not?

He got the cover he wants. A pretty cover. No “underneath angles”. No “floating crown”. In response to Donald Trump’s complaint of an undeniably unflattering cover photo, Time magazine just shared on X a new cover of an ever-preening president. This time, Mr Trump was shown seated behind the resolute desk, as if on a throne, in a kingly pose: hands together, his chin above them, the coiffed crown perfectly visible and in place, as opposed to the original cover’s “floating crown”, which was ambiguous: a halo-like blur, an accidental divinity. In contrast, his visage is now part presidential scowl, part “daddy” that the NATO secretary general Mark Rutte alluded to, and part comely cover model he utterly wants to be. There is no denying that this cover is now Best of all Time!

The Time photo editor did not only choose a better image, he bettered it. Thanks to clever digital buffing, Mr Trump’s suit—still dark as the interior of a swiftlet’s nesting grounds at night—is now incredibly not creased. The shoulders form a smooth line instead of the lumpiness we’re used to. And the posture perfection: shoulders squared, back straight, and zero trace of his usual forward hunch. It’s a classic power pose of court portraiture. All the smoothing and straightening, and erecting made us wonder if this was a photo Vanity Fair turned down and Time picked up. The new image is not just presidential—it’s regal! Time’s slyly updated cover doesn’t just flatter Trump—it enthrones him. It’s a powerful reminder that in politics, perception is production.

All the smoothing and straightening, and erecting made us wonder if this was a photo Vanity Fair turned down and Time picked up

From halo to crown, Time has given their subject a semiotic upgrade that professor Robert Langdon would delightfully appreciate. This isn’t just a photo swap—it’s a symbolic coronation. That Time even placed the blurb “TRUMP’S WORLD”, in full caps, above their own masthead is elevation above the brand itself, offering quite the crowning Mr Trump craves. That the phrase is longer than the masthead suggest spatial and emotional dominion. And to make sure the already pushed-down masthead does not overpower the famous name, its opacity is lowered dramatically. Time whispers its own name while shouting Mr Trump’s. It’s a brilliant typographic heil. This, to us, isn’t just about Trump—it’s about a media ecosystem increasingly willing to dim its own voice to amplify power’s preferred image.

If the editors at Time were busy digitally buffing the suit of power, the communications staff inside that power structure were engrossed in tearing down the entire stage. Editorial submission and institutional contempt are now working in tandem to erode the symbolic infrastructure of free expression, a right that used to be an American political boast and calling card. When asked a legitimate geopolitical question about Budapest’s symbolism, Karoline Leavitt replied: “Your mom did.” This is not a rebuttal, but a press secretary treating inquiry as insolence. In the end, Donald Trump and his cronies were not just asking for legitimacy, but supremacy; not just leadership, but dominion; not just presence, but proprietorship. And Time gave it all to them. There is a big beautiful difference between being elected and being anointed.

Illustration: Just So