President Donald Trump torched California Gov. Gavin Newsom on Truth Social Wednesday night, calling the Democrat's recent public remarks "perhaps the most self-destructive interview I've ever seen" and declaring his 2028 presidential ambitions dead on arrival.
The target of Trump's post: a weekend stop in Atlanta, where Newsom, promoting his forthcoming memoir, attempted to connect with a predominantly Black audience by emphasizing his own academic shortcomings. A short clip of those remarks circulated widely on social media and drew sharp criticism from across the political spectrum.
Trump did not mince words.
"In one fell swoop, he took himself out of even being considered as the Presidential Nominee of the Crazy Democrats."
He added that Newsom had described himself as "dumb, had low Boards, can't read, has dyslexia, and has a mental disorder," calling the performance "a politically suicidal act" and concluding flatly: "He is no longer a viable Presidential Candidate!"
During the Atlanta event, Newsom leaned into self-deprecation in a way that clearly was meant to read as humility. Speaking to an audience that included Atlanta Mayor Andre Dickens, the governor offered this, according to Newsmax:
"I'm not trying to impress you, I'm just trying to impress upon you, I'm like you. I'm not better than you. I'm a 960 SAT guy."
He went further, telling the crowd that they had never seen him read a speech "because I cannot read a speech." He later defended the remarks by referencing his lifelong struggle with dyslexia, saying his mother "didn't want my dyslexia to hold me back."
The defense might have landed differently if the audience were, say, a dyslexia advocacy group. Instead, Newsom chose to tell a room full of Black Americans that the way to prove he's "like you" is to announce he can barely read and scored a 960 on his SATs.
According to 2024 College Board data cited by the New York Post, the average SAT score for Black students is 907 out of 1,600, compared with 1,083 for white students. Newsom's self-reported 960 sits just above the Black student average and well below the white student average.
He chose that number. He chose that audience. The implication wasn't subtle.
Sen. Ted Cruz captured the dynamic in four words, writing on X that Newsom's remarks represented the "soft bigotry of low expectations." Rep. Randy Fine of Florida called them "disgusting." Even rapper Nicki Minaj weighed in, noting that Newsom's apparent strategy for bonding with Black people "is to tell them how stupid he is & that he can't read."
When you've lost Nicki Minaj, you've lost the room.
Newsom has been working to build a national profile ahead of a potential 2028 presidential run. The memoir tour, the out-of-state stops, the carefully curated relatability: all of it points toward a man who sees himself as the future of the Democratic Party. Atlanta wasn't a random stop. It was a signal.
But the signal he sent was not the one he intended. Instead of projecting the kind of aspirational competence that voters look for in a presidential candidate, Newsom chose to lead with weakness. He told a national audience that he can't read a speech. He bragged about a mediocre test score. He framed his own limitations as the connective tissue between himself and a Black audience, which says far more about how Newsom sees that audience than it does about his humility.
This is the core contradiction of the modern Democratic approach to minority voters. The party claims to champion Black excellence while its leaders repeatedly signal that the way to connect with Black Americans is to lower the bar. Newsom didn't walk into that room and talk about achievement, entrepreneurship, or opportunity. He walked in and said: I'm not very smart either.
Democrats have run this playbook for decades, and it's wearing thin. Black voters increasingly recognize the difference between a politician who respects them and one who performs relatability like a costume. Newsom's Atlanta moment was the costume slipping.
Newsom later posted a longer clip of the exchange on X, attempting to reframe the remarks around his dyslexia diagnosis. The pivot is understandable. Dyslexia is a real challenge, and there's nothing wrong with discussing it openly.
But context matters. Newsom didn't open up about dyslexia at a health conference or an education summit. He dropped it in the middle of a political performance designed to make a Black audience in a key Democratic city feel like he's one of them. The dyslexia defense doesn't erase the calculation that preceded it.
If anything, it raises a harder question for Democrats weighing their 2028 options. A candidate who generates this kind of bipartisan backlash during a book tour isn't going to fare better under the relentless pressure of a presidential primary. The self-inflicted wounds don't get smaller on a bigger stage. They get bigger.
Trump saw the opening and took it. So did Cruz, Fine, and Minaj. Newsom handed everyone of them the ammunition and then acted surprised when they fired.
