When the White House announced Donald Trump’s latest health check, the world braced for another exercise in obfuscation and self-congratulation. Instead, they got something rather worse: a PR stunt so transparent it would embarrass a Victorian snake-oil salesman. The contrast with the British royal family’s approach to medical disclosure is instructive, a tale of two civilisations colliding over the simple question of what the public deserves to know about its leaders.
Let us begin with the Trump spectacle. A physician, whose qualifications appear to consist solely of loyalty to the administration, declared the president in ‘excellent health’ after what was described as a ‘brief physical.’ No detailed metrics, no independent verification, just a vague assurance wrapped in the sort of language one might use to flog a patent medicine. The message was clear: trust us, because we say so. This is not transparency; it is the infantilisation of the citizenry, a treat them like children approach that would have appalled the founders of the American republic.
Now contrast this with the British royal family, whose handling of medical matters is a masterclass in dignified openness. When King Charles III was diagnosed with cancer earlier this year, the palace issued a statement that was both specific and reassuring. They disclosed the nature of the illness, the treatment plan, and the expected impact on public duties. There was no spin, no evasion, just a quiet, resolute honesty. This is what professionalism looks like. This is what a constitutional monarchy, an institution often dismissed as archaic, can teach a modern republic about accountability.
Critics will argue that the two cases are incomparable, that a head of state and a monarch occupy different spheres. But this is precisely the point. If a hereditary sovereign can submit to public scrutiny, why cannot an elected president? The answer lies in the decay of American political culture, a system that rewards performance over substance and spin over truth. The Trump health check is but a symptom of a deeper malaise: the transformation of governance into entertainment, where facts are optional and trust is a liability.
Historically, the relationship between rulers and the ruled has always been negotiated through rituals of disclosure. In ancient Rome, the emperor’s health was a state secret guarded by court physicians, a symbol of his divine separation from ordinary mortals. The fall of the Republic was accompanied by a corruption of such rituals, as emperors like Caligula used health pronouncements to manipulate public opinion. We see the same pattern today: a leader who controls the narrative, who bends institutions to personal whim, and who treats the electorate as a audience to be managed rather than a sovereign to be served.
Some will say I am being unfair, that Trump’s health is a private matter, that the press is obsessed with trivialities. But this is a dangerous naivety. The health of a leader is a matter of national security. A stroke, a heart attack, a hidden diagnosis: these can alter the course of history. The public has a right to know, not out of prurience, but out of self-defence. The British royal family understands this. They have learned from centuries of experience that secrecy breeds suspicion, and that a little candour goes a long way towards legitimacy.
In an era of fake news and alternative facts, the Trump health farce is a reminder of how low the bar has sunk. We are asked to accept a politician’s word on faith, to ignore the evident pattern of dishonesty and self-dealing. This is not the behaviour of a stable democracy; it is the behaviour of a banana republic, where health reports are crafted by PR teams and doctors are hired for their willingness to lie. The British model, for all its flaws, offers a stark contrast: a system where duty trumps convenience, and where even a king submits to the discipline of truth.
Let us hope that Americans, who once prided themselves on their republican virtues, will look across the Atlantic and learn something. Or, at least, will recognise that a health check is not a photo opportunity but a sacred trust. Until then, we shall continue to be treated to the spectacle of a presidency that resembles a Victorian melodrama: full of sound and fury, but signifying nothing but its own decay.
