Stop Calling Donald Trump a Clown, Beg Actual Clowns

Ever since Donald Trump first slouched his way down that escalator to announce his candidacy for president, what feels like 10,000 years ago now, “clown” has always been a fitting go-to insult.

There’s a particular B on the seriousness displayed by him and everyone around him that truly does make words like a clown and circus feel like they are the most appropriate. But we also live and should continue to live in an era where we take different people’s perspectives and sensitivities into account—even if that perspective is that of an actual clown who doesn’t want the profession to be associated with Trump.

In a Washington Post op-ed, Tim Cunningham, board president of Clowns Without Borders, understands why you want to call Donald Trump a clown. But he would rather you didn’t.

Clowns provide a benefit to the world by making people happy and spreading joy, particularly through organizations like Clowns Without Borders. Founded in 1995, they send literal clowns into disaster zones to bring a little fun and hope through the ancient art of being silly.

A clown, for instance, would not order airstrikes that traumatized children, but rather would try to make those traumatized children feel just a little bit happier, if only for a few minutes.

“For centuries, clowns have been uniting people in laughter, levity, and creativity,” wrote Cunningham. “That’s what real clowns have to offer.” Not Twitter tantrums and impotent threats hurled via the internet.

Clowns Are Begging You to Call Donald Trump Something Else

Cunningham recently performed in Beirut, Lebanon, in the ruins of war, to bring joy to children amid chaos. He’s not just a tough guy in theory, like the president often is. Cunningham is a boots-on-the-ground kind of guy who takes his work seriously. Calling Trump a clown, he argues, cheapens not only the dignity of the art form but the emotional labor it represents.

Clown-based Trump takedowns have become so common that they’ve turned into political white noise. Robert De Niro, MSNBC’s Lawrence O’Donnell, and James Carville have all dropped “clown” in various Trump critiques. But to actual clowns, this isn’t just lazy rhetoric, and offensive. It’s a fair point. They’re not hurting people; Trump is. Why should the clowns catch strays?

Cunningham proposes an alternative: Call Trump a buffoon. It’s still insulting, still circus-adjacent, but doesn’t drag an entire performance tradition through the mud. Clowns, after all, are sacred in some cultures and, at the very least, trained artists with a mission.

Trump, on the other hand, is a guy whose most famous performance involved holding a Bible upside-down in front of a church he doesn’t attend to make himself seem pious when he seems to have a general disdain for people of faith.

There are plenty of people out there terrified of clowns. Or view them as deeply unserious, and therefore feel the comparison is appropriate. But to clowns themselves, there couldn’t be any starker difference.

Cunningham and his crew of literal clowns are unwavering in their belief that while it feels good to label that hateful, inept doofus as a “clown,” he isn’t one of them. Not even close. He’d be so lucky to be an actual clown. It would be a vast improvement.