Trump uses State of the Union to tout 13-month record amid economic skepticism

Donald Trump stood before Congress on a Tuesday evening in late February, thirteen months into his second term, preparing to defend a presidency that had moved at a velocity few had anticipated. The speech mattered. In nine months, Republicans would face voters again, and control of the House and Senate hung in the balance. What Trump chose to emphasize—and how he chose to frame it—would shape the conversation heading into those elections.

The economy was his thorniest problem. Most Americans disapproved of how he was managing it, even as he repeatedly declared victory over inflation. The numbers told a more complicated story. Yes, the economy had continued to grow. But the job market had cooled, unemployment had ticked upward, and Americans remained deeply frustrated by the cost of living. Trump had blamed his predecessor, Joe Biden, for the inflation that had helped carry him back to the White House, but that argument was wearing thin with voters who still felt squeezed at the grocery store and the gas pump. His team was watching closely to see whether he might soften his combative tone, offer some acknowledgment of ordinary people's struggles, or double down on the same message that had failed to reassure them so far.

Tariffs had been the centerpiece of his economic strategy. He had used them as a cudgel against countries that opposed his policies and as a tool to address what he saw as unfair trade imbalances, particularly with China. But the Supreme Court had just rejected his attempt to use emergency powers to impose tariffs on allies and other nations. Undeterred, his administration was hunting for new legal pathways to keep the tariff regime intact. In the meantime, he had imposed a temporary ten percent levy on imports from every country—he had announced it would rise to fifteen percent, but when it took effect on Tuesday, the rate was ten. He would likely tout his signature legislative achievement, the One Big Beautiful Bill, which had reduced some individual income taxes. Whether he would give credit to Elon Musk's Department of Government Efficiency for shrinking the federal workforce remained to be seen.

On the world stage, Trump had moved with the kind of speed and unpredictability that left allies and adversaries alike uncertain. The United States appeared to be teetering on the edge of open conflict with Iran over its nuclear program. He had reinforced American military presence in the Middle East and warned that very bad things would happen if no deal materialized. He had ordered the bombing of Iranian nuclear facilities last June. He had authorized attacks on suspected drug-trafficking boats in Caribbean international waters. He had orchestrated the arrest of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro. He had threatened to annex Greenland, raising serious questions about the future of NATO. Yet he also presented himself as a peacemaker. He had brokered a fragile ceasefire agreement in Gaza and established a Peace Council focused on rebuilding the devastated Palestinian enclave. He claimed to have resolved eight wars in his pursuit of the Nobel Peace Prize—a claim widely dismissed as exaggerated and contradicted by observable facts on the ground. His efforts to end Russia's war in Ukraine, after months of alternating pressure on Kyiv and threats against Moscow that rarely materialized, had come to nothing.

Immigration remained Trump's signature issue, but it had become a liability. He had campaigned on launching the largest deportation operation in decades and had ordered sweeping immigration raids immediately after taking office in January 2025. Some of those deported had not been returned to their countries of origin but instead sent to third countries known for human rights violations. The enforcement operations had turned violent. Federal immigration agents had clashed with protesters and activists across the country, resulting in the deaths of two American citizens in Minneapolis. Public support for his hardline approach had weakened. Trump would need to work to rebuild confidence in his immigration policies, even as the enforcement machinery had largely succeeded in reducing the flow of migrants crossing the southern border.

Much of what Trump had accomplished had come through executive action—a form of governance by decree that previous American presidents had largely avoided because it sidestepped Congress. He had signed 240 executive orders and memoranda in thirteen months, the highest number in that span since Franklin D. Roosevelt during World War II. Through these orders, he had established tariffs, promoted glyphosate-based herbicides, pushed coal production, discouraged companies from buying single-family homes, and directed Venezuelan oil revenue. He had attacked civil society groups, activists, local officials, judges, and journalists he deemed obstacles. He had granted hundreds of pardons, including absolution for those accused of crimes related to the January 6, 2021 attack on the Capitol.

On climate, Trump had moved decisively to reverse the regulatory framework of the Biden era. He had withdrawn the United States from the Paris Agreement and the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, joining Iran, Libya, and Yemen as nations outside the accord. His administration had aggressively blocked wind and solar projects, some nearly complete, issuing work stoppages or delaying permit approvals. He had loosened regulations on clean air and water, exempting coal plants and oil and gas facilities from compliance requirements. On healthcare, he had negotiated deals with sixteen of the world's largest pharmaceutical companies—agreements structured as most-favored-nation arrangements that would reduce drug prices for Americans in exchange for tariff exemptions. The companies would lower prices for the government's Medicaid program and for consumers paying out of pocket through a website called Trump Rx.

As Trump prepared to take the stage, the question was not whether he had been busy. He had. The question was whether any of it would move the needle with voters who remained skeptical, anxious, and unconvinced that his thirteen months in office had made their lives better.