TV News LIES

As a neurologist, I care for some of society’s most vulnerable individuals — children with severe disabilities who are often mocked, dismissed or misunderstood. My career is rooted in supporting people with physical and cognitive differences, educating about empathy and respect for human diversity, and applying the principles of science and medicine to improve the lives of those facing challenges of one kind or another.

From that perspective, President Donald Trump’s public admonition of a female reporter in November — “Quiet, piggy” — was gut-wrenching and continues to resonate weeks later. To some, it was an offhand, albeit misogynistic, fat-shaming insult. To me, the remark instantly evoked Piggy, the vulnerable and marginalized character in William Golding’s novel “Lord of the Flies” and revealed something far more troubling: a display of dominance, denigration and the subjugation of those deemed less worthy.

The rapid spread of the phrase across media platforms underscored a deeper danger — one that has only grown more unsettling as public displays of intimidation and condemnation increase. It is not just the cruelty of the words but the authority of the speaker, and the delight of many in his audience, that makes them so corrosive.

“Quiet, piggy” is not a joke. It is an illustration of how normalized bullying has become, and an affront to the people I care for and the values that guide my work.

Others have drawn parallels between “Lord of the Flies” and our political moment. In 2020, The New York Times published Jennifer Finney Boylan’s essay “President of the Flies,” in which she described feeling cast onto “some cruel and hostile strand ... where people with disabilities were mocked, immigrants ... were reviled, and grabbing women by their private parts was ... A-OK.”

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