There is nothing to fear but fear itself

In moments of our greatest national fear we needed to be reminded that courage is as contagious as fear

Franklin D Roosevelt’s first inagural speech “There is nothing to fear but fear itself!”

On March 4, 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt addressed a nation paralyzed by the melting down of the engine of the capitalist system. Bankers were jumping from windows above Wall street. Unemployment exploded above 25% and homes turned into encampments - “Hoovervilles”, as they became known after President Herbert Hoover who presided over the economic collapse.

The Great Depression tore at the psyche of America and the new President delivered words that would echo through history: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

Check out FDR's speech here.

FDR understood something profound about human psychology that seems lost on many today: fear is a contagion that spreads faster than any virus, and it’s often more destructive than the actual threats we face. He was speaking to a country where unemployment had reached 25%, banks were

failing daily, and breadlines stretched around city blocks. Yet he chose to address not the economic catastrophe itself, but the fear that was preventing Americans from taking action to fix it.

Fast forward to 2025, and we’re witnessing a masterclass in fear-mongering from Donald Trump that would make a 1930s radio dramatist blush. Every speech, every Truth Social post, every campaign rally is designed to convince Americans that we’re teetering on the edge of apocalypse. According to Trump’s fever dreams, we’re simultaneously being invaded by caravans of criminals, destroyed by woke corporations, betrayed by deep state bureaucrats, and somehow also facing imminent nuclear war—all while the economy is apparently both booming (when he wants credit) and collapsing (when he needs a villain).

Fear is Trumps currency. Without it he’s broke.

Fear of immigrants. Fear of muslims. Fear of trans-persons. Fear of elections. Fear of crime. Fear of diversity. Fear of a changing America. Fear. Fear. Fear.

It’s exhausting, isn’t it? The constant state of emergency, the perpetual crisis, the relentless drumbeat of doom. Clearly it’s been exacerbated by the constant stream of information and updates leaping from our hand held phones.

But here’s the thing Trump seems to have forgotten in his current desperation: many low-information Americans have developed something of an immunity to his brand of theatrical panic. They’ve seen this movie before, and frankly, the special effects weren’t that impressive the first time around.

Consider the current landscape with clear eyes rather than Trump-tinted glasses of terror. His polling numbers are absolutely tanking—sitting at historic lows that would make any other politician consider early retirement. His job approval rating has cratered to levels that make even his most optimistic advisors reach for the hard liquor. The numbers don’t lie, even when Trump does: he’s polling at the same dismal levels Joe Biden hit during the worst of the inflation crisis.

Meanwhile, his opposition isn’t exactly cowering in bunkers. At least not anymore. A sea change in attitudes among Democrats from the first part of this year is palpable, you can literally feel how different public opinion is now compared to weeks and months ago. Democrats are organized, energized, and—perhaps most dangerously for Trump—increasingly amused rather than alarmed by his antics. There’s something deliciously deflating about meeting apocalyptic rage with a raised eyebrow and a chuckle. Hard to maintain your strongman image when people are snickering at your tantrums.

Another reminder that humor and mockery are the most powerful antidotes to fear.

The headwinds against Trump are becoming gale-force. His youth voter numbers have completely reversed—young Americans who briefly flirted with his message are now running in the opposite direction. Even more devastating, he’s hemorrhaged all the gains he once made among Latino voters, watching years of outreach evaporate faster than his Truth Social stock value. And just yesterday, as leaders from across Europe gathered to stand in solidarity with Zelenskyy, the world was reminded once again that Trump has abdicated America’s role as leader of the free world, leaving our allies to fill the vacuum he created.

But none of this matters if we allow ourselves to be paralyzed by fear—fear of his rallies, fear of his threats, fear of his base, fear of what he might do if he loses, fear of what he might do if he wins. This is exactly the trap FDR warned against: letting “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror” prevent us from taking the actions needed to move forward.

Courage is contagious

When ICE started cracking down in Los Angeles communities confronted the masked men. When Republican members of congress showed up to town halls they were met by real people. Unafraid. It was pople, not politicians who turned this around. We are indeed the leaders we are looking for.

Fear, as Roosevelt knew, is contagious. But so is courage. So is laughter. So is the simple act of refusing to be intimidated by a man whose primary political strategy is throwing increasingly desperate tantrums.

Courage travels as fast as fear.

The greatest weapon we have right now isn’t some complex political strategy or messaging framework. It’s the simple refusal to be afraid. It’s meeting his fear-mongering with facts, his rage with resolve, and his chaos with calm determination.

Roosevelt faced down the Great Depression and World War II with this philosophy. We can certainly handle one cranky septuagenarian with a social media addiction and a pile of political troubles. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself—and frankly, Trump’s running out of new ways to scare us.