The Wall Street Journal's Dirty Little Secret

Let me be perfectly clear about something. I rarely read comment sections. Life is too short, and my time is too valuable.

But this morning, I made an exception.

The Wall Street Journal ran a piece about President Trump. He likes a particular brand of dress shoes. He buys them out of his own pocket and gives them to people. As gifts. Because he's generous and he found something he likes. I personally favor Stacy Adams — good fit, fine construction — and I own most of the brands mentioned in the article. So I read it. It was a pleasant, harmless little piece showing the human side of a man the media has spent nearly a decade trying to dehumanize.

Now here is where it gets interesting.

You need to understand something about how the Wall Street Journal manages its comment sections — because there is a pattern, and it is not subtle once you see it. Not every article at the Journal allows comments. Many do not. But the ones that *do* allow comments? Pay attention. The articles that tend to attract comment sections are the ones that *mock* President Trump, *criticize* President Trump, or otherwise provide red meat for the Trump Derangement Syndrome crowd. And that crowd shows up. Every time. Reliably. Like clockwork. Low-brow, mean-spirited, factually hollow commentary that adds absolutely nothing to what was once one of the most respected financial publications in the world.

Here is what I have done in the past. I have called those people out. Not with insults. Not with profanity. With facts. With plain spoken, professional observations about the quality of their commentary and their contribution — or rather, their spectacular *lack* of contribution — to serious public discourse.

And I have been throttled for it.

My comments don't appear anymore. Not because they are derogatory. Not because they are mean. Because they are *factual*, *direct*, and *insufficiently hostile to the President of the United States*. That, apparently, is the standard the Wall Street Journal's comment editors have adopted.

Today, a gentleman posted that the shoe article was cute enough, but it belonged in People magazine — not the Journal. That was an insightful observation. I agreed with him completely, and added that the article had nonetheless accomplished something useful: it brought the Trump Derangement Syndrome crowd out of the woodwork, which provides rich material for future commentary.

Rejected. Banned. Gone.

And then he reminded me — because he had noticed — that many of my past comments, few as they are, have met the same fate.

So I went back and looked. The pattern is undeniable. Criticize the TDS crowd? Blocked. Agree with a reasonable reader that professional standards matter? Blocked. Post something calm, factual, and plain spoken that happens to be insufficiently contemptuous of Donald Trump? Blocked.

But rant like a lunatic about shoes? *Published.*

The Wall Street Journal's comment editors have Trump Derangement Syndrome. That is not an accusation. That is a fact pattern. And here is why it matters beyond my own mild irritation at being censored in a publication I pay for.

This is *exactly* what happened to Twitter.

A once-powerful platform, rotting from the inside. Editors and moderators — drunk on ideological certainty — systematically silencing one side of every conversation while amplifying the other. Professional, factual voices throttled. Unhinged, deranged voices amplified. The inmates running the asylum. And the audience, slowly but surely, noticing. Trust eroding. Credibility collapsing. Until finally the whole rotten structure was so compromised that one man with a checkbook and a commitment to free speech walked in, paid forty-four billion dollars, and blew the whole thing up.

Elon Musk didn't buy Twitter because he had nothing better to do. He bought it because what was happening there was a scandal hiding in plain sight — and the people responsible were too arrogant and too ideologically captured to see it coming.

The Wall Street Journal would do well to study that history. Carefully. Because the readers who once made this publication great are watching. And they are not confused about what they are seeing.

I will keep my subscription. For now. There is still good financial reporting buried in these pages, and I am not the kind of man who walks away from a fight.

But I will tell you this. I would not be even slightly surprised to open my email one morning and discover that my subscription has been cancelled. Not because I missed a payment. Because I had the nerve to say — plainly, professionally, and without apology — that the Emperor has no clothes.

And now you know — *the rest of the story.*

Tippecanoe and Tyler Too, I'm out of here.

Truesdellwealth.com 
Paul Grant Truesdell, J.D., AIF, CLU, ChFC, RFC Founder of The Truesdell Companies Truesdell Wealth, Inc. A Registered Investment Advisor
The Truesdell Professional Building 200 NW 52nd Avenue, Ocala, Florida 34481 352-612-1000 

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