Narrator: In 2000, Donald Trump’s nephew, Fred Trump III, filed a lawsuit challenging the will of his late grandfather. He argued that Donald and his siblings had unduly influenced the patriarch, who suffered from dementia, to cut him and his sister out of the family fortune. In response, Donald Trump didn't just fight the lawsuit in court. He took a more personal step. He immediately terminated the family’s medical plan, which was paying for the life-sustaining care of his nephew’s infant son, William, who was born with a severe and rare neurological disorder. When a reporter asked if it was insensitive to take away healthcare from a sick baby, Trump was blunt. Suing his father, he said, was the insensitive act. This single, chilling event is not an outlier but a defining data point in a lifelong pattern. In his book, The Making of Donald Trump, investigative journalist David Cay Johnston argues that to understand the man, one must look past the spectacle and examine the consistent, documented actions that have defined his entire career.

Narrator: The Trump family story, as Johnston presents it, is not a simple rags-to-riches tale. It’s a multi-generational narrative of opportunism and a willingness to operate in the gray areas of the law. The pattern begins with Donald’s grandfather, Friedrich Trump, who emigrated from Germany in 1885 to evade military service. During the Klondike gold rush, he didn't pan for gold; instead, he opened The Arctic, a bar and restaurant that reportedly offered miners not just food and liquor, but also the services of prostitutes. He built his fortune by catering to vices.

This legacy was passed down to Donald’s father, Fred Trump. Fred built a real estate empire in New York, but his path was paved with controversy. In 1927, at just 21 years old, he was arrested at a Ku Klux Klan rally in Queens. While he was never prosecuted, the event foreshadowed a career marked by ethical ambiguity. Fred became a master at profiting from government programs, building housing for veterans and low-income families with federal subsidies. However, a 1954 Senate investigation accused him of profiteering, alleging he inflated costs to pocket millions in taxpayer-backed funds. He also cultivated relationships with mob-connected figures like Willie Tomasello to ensure his construction projects ran smoothly, free from union troubles. This was the environment Donald Trump was raised in: one where wealth was paramount, rules were flexible, and associations were a means to an end.

Narrator: A core theme of the book is Trump's use of deception to construct and maintain his public persona. This wasn't just about occasional exaggeration; it was a systematic strategy. For years, Trump used pseudonyms, most notably "John Baron" and "John Miller," to act as his own spokesperson. As "John Baron," he would call reporters to plant stories, defend his business decisions, and even threaten his adversaries. In one instance, after destroying valuable art deco sculptures on the Bonwit Teller building, "Baron" called The New York Times to justify the act with false claims about cost and safety.

This strategy of self-mythologizing extended to his finances. Trump famously sued journalist Tim O'Brien for reporting that his net worth was closer to $250 million than the billions Trump claimed. During a deposition for that lawsuit, Trump made a stunning admission. He stated under oath that his net worth fluctuates based on "markets and with attitudes and with feelings, even my own feelings." His wealth wasn't a hard number but a reflection of his mood. This subjective valuation, Johnston argues, allowed him to present wildly different figures to banks, the media, and tax authorities, depending on what served his interests at that moment.

Narrator: To break into the cutthroat world of Manhattan real estate, a young Donald Trump needed a guide, and he found one in the infamous lawyer Roy Cohn. Cohn, the former chief counsel to Senator Joseph McCarthy, was known for his brutal tactics and his deep connections to New York’s criminal underworld. Cohn’s three rules of engagement became Trump’s own: never settle, never surrender; counter-attack immediately; and no matter what, admit nothing and deny everything.

This mentorship was put to the test in 1973 when the federal government filed a major civil rights lawsuit against the Trump Organization for systematically discriminating against Black renters. Instead of settling, Trump and Cohn went on the offensive, suing the government for $100 million and accusing them of reverse discrimination. While they eventually settled the case without admitting guilt, the experience solidified Trump’s combative style. Furthermore, Johnston details how Trump’s construction projects, like Trump Tower, relied on mob-controlled concrete suppliers. He knowingly did business with S & A Concrete, a firm secretly owned by Mafia bosses "Fat Tony" Salerno and Paul Castellano, paying inflated prices to ensure his projects were completed without labor disruptions.

Narrator: Johnston portrays Trump as a master of exploiting systems, whether legal, financial, or educational. A prime example is Trump University. Marketed as a premier real estate school "better than Harvard," it was, in reality, an unlicensed venture that preyed on the aspirations of its students. Lawsuits revealed that instructors, who Trump claimed he hand-picked, were often unqualified salespeople. They used high-pressure tactics to upsell students into "elite" mentorships costing tens of thousands of dollars, leaving many in financial ruin. When state attorneys general in Florida and Texas began investigating, the probes were quietly dropped after Trump’s foundation and Trump himself made political donations to them.

This pattern of exploiting loopholes is also evident in his tax practices. Trump has used a variety of strategies to dramatically lower his tax burden on his golf courses. At his Bedminster, New Jersey, club, he kept a small herd of goats on the property to classify it as an active farm, reducing his property tax bill from $80,000 to just over $1,000. In another case, he donated a conservation easement on a Los Angeles golf course, generating a $26 million tax deduction for agreeing not to build houses on land that was already known to be too unstable for development.

Narrator: Perhaps the most revealing aspect of Trump's character, according to Johnston, is his deeply held belief in revenge. "When someone screws you," Trump has advised, "screw them back ten times as hard." This isn't just a business tactic; it’s a personal philosophy that has guided his actions in the most intimate of circumstances.

The book returns to the story of his family's legal battle over his father's will. After his nephew, Fred III, sued over the inheritance, Trump’s response was swift and brutal. He cut off the medical insurance that was paying for the care of Fred's infant son, William, who suffered from cerebral palsy. Trump's justification was simple: they sued, so why should he pay their medical bills? This willingness to use a sick child as leverage in a family dispute demonstrates, for Johnston, a core element of Trump's personality: a transactional view of loyalty and a vindictive need to punish anyone who crosses him, regardless of the collateral damage.

Narrator: The Making of Donald Trump presents a compelling and deeply researched argument that Donald Trump's actions, from his earliest business dealings to his political career, are not random or impulsive. Instead, they are the product of a consistent and calculated worldview, one defined by a relentless pursuit of self-interest, a disregard for rules and norms, and an obsession with crafting a public myth of success. David Cay Johnston’s central takeaway is that character is action, and by examining the documented patterns of Trump's life—his associations with criminals, his exploitation of loopholes, his use of deception, and his philosophy of revenge—we can understand the man behind the brand.

The book leaves the reader with a profound challenge: to look beyond the political theater and critically assess the character of our leaders. It forces us to ask what it means when a lifetime of bending rules, manipulating truths, and prioritizing personal gain over all else is not a barrier to power, but a pathway to it.