“Bitcoin, it just seems like a scam. I don’t like it because it’s another currency competing against the dollar.” — Donald Trump, six years agoThe US president raked in at least $1.4 billion from cryptocurrency and memecoin businesses last year, according to federal financial disclosure documents made public on Tuesday.
Trump is 80, and he has been working for the better part of 60 years. His crypto windfall is certainly far larger than any amount he earned in a single year as a real estate developer, casino impresario and reality TV oddity during that span.
This is America, and it’s fun to see hardworking, talented people get rich. Trump didn’t land his crypto billions because he’s hardworking or talented, though. His payday arrived because he’s president.
And Trump has used his Oval Office perch to help engineer federal support for an industry he once derided as a “scam” before a philosophic conversion that convinced him to set up various crypto ventures just before his 2024 reelection. He has attributed that enlightenment to crypto tutoring provided by his 20-year-old son, Barron. Perhaps. But I suspect that Trump, who can spot a pile of money a mile away, probably understood that the White House might afford him an opportunity to cash in on crypto, an industry that still lacks a widespread and demonstrable corporate or consumer use case.
Reporters also had questions about Trump’s newfound crypto billions and inquired on Wednesday whether his unusually lucrative 2025 might be sending a bad message to average Americans.
“Well, I made a lot of money before I became president,” he allowed. “In business, I’ve had a great career. I don’t know if I’ve had a better career in politics or business. But I’ve had a great career in business. And you know, you saw the cash.”
I’ve seen the cash, over decades, and I can confirm for the president that purely from a financial standpoint, he has had a better career in politics. The value of all of his assets has grown to $7.6 billion from about $3 billion since he began his first presidential term — and he hasn’t been waylaid by the string of bankruptcies that haunted his entrepreneurial years.
On the other hand, the Constitution’s framers didn’t design the presidency to be a moneymaking venture. They embraced the quaint notion that it should be focused on public service, sound policymaking and good governance.
“Critics say you’re profiting off the presidency,” one reporter pointed out to Trump on Wednesday.
“Well, you know why I’m profiting is because the stock market’s going up. Everybody’s profiting,” he replied, before congratulating himself. “Thank you, President Trump!”
Nyet. As Trump’s own financial disclosure demonstrated, the stock market wasn’t the primary engine spinning gold inside his portfolio. He had crypto to thank for that. Besides, not everybody’s profiting from the stock market. Only about 62% of Americans own stock directly or indirectly, and the holdings of the wealthiest 1% are worth more than the combined holdings of the bottom 90%.
Outside investors in Trump’s crypto ventures haven’t fared very well, either. While Trump was cashing out last year, other investors in his family’s crypto holdings may have had actual and unrealized losses of about $2.3 billion. Investors in Trump Media & Technology Group Corp., the president’s social media enterprise, have also watched the value of their stakes plunge 42% this year and 75% over the last two years.
Trump’s presidential profiteering also sullies the reputation and legacy of the Oval Office he inherited, of course, and opens the door for others in his White House orbit to possibly chase their own jackpots — despite their intersection with such essential public services or policies as defense, taxation, healthcare and education. Conflicts of interest abound, and the public interest gets savaged.
Trump’s crypto riches are also a signal of how profoundly vulnerable he, and consequently the country, are to bribes. The Constitution’s framers were worried enough about presidential bribery that they articulated bans against accepting payments from foreign governments. Trump has run roughshod over that concept, and his crypto riches are Exhibit A.
When the spymaster for the United Arab Emirates makes a $500 million investment in one of the Trump family’s primary crypto vehicles, World Liberty Financial, and the president subsequently lifts a ban on the export of sensitive computer chips to the UAE, two questions arise: 1) Did Trump trade US national security for a fattened wallet? and 2) Why didn’t Congress look into whether this might have violated the constitutional ban on accepting bribes?
Answer those questions however you choose, but at this point you can’t say you’re surprised by Trump’s moneygrubbing. This was all part and parcel of who he was before he vaulted onto the global stage as president, and he’s been finding ways to monetize the office ever since.
What continues to surprise (me, at least) is how quiescent voters, the law-and-order Republican Party and legal institutions are about all of this. The GOP and large sectors of the law-enforcement architecture are beholden to Trump, so that explains some of it. But voters? They seem to care about conflicts of interest and corruption in the abstract but not in the specific.
Trump, who is a practiced observer of his audience and can usually read it infallibly, surely recognizes that apathy. He’s laughing all the way to the crypto bank.
This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
Timothy L. O’Brien is senior executive editor of Bloomberg Opinion. A former editor and reporter for the New York Times, he is author of “TrumpNation: The Art of Being the Donald.”
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