Political Legacies: Media’s Impact on Leadership

Welcome to a thought-provoking imaginary conversation where we dive deep into the powerful intersection of political narratives and leadership. Today, we’re exploring how stories shape the legacies of our leaders, how media influences the perception of truth, and the emotional impact that can sway a nation.

Joining us are some of the most insightful voices in history and politics, each bringing their unique perspective on how leaders are remembered—and what it means for our future. Let’s get started on this fascinating journey into the heart of leadership and the narratives that define it.

The Evolution of Political Storytelling

Nick Sasaki: Political storytelling is as old as politics itself, but the way stories are crafted and consumed seems to have changed drastically over the years. From the Lincoln-Douglas debates to Twitter, how do you think the evolution of political storytelling has shaped the way leaders are perceived today? Let’s start with you, Doris. How would you compare the narratives crafted by figures like Abraham Lincoln to those we see in modern politics?

Doris Kearns Goodwin: Lincoln was a master storyteller, but in a very different context. His speeches were carefully crafted over time, meant to resonate deeply with the ideals of unity and democracy. The Gettysburg Address, for instance, wasn’t just a speech; it was a reframing of the entire purpose of the Civil War. Today, politicians don't have the same luxury of time. The rapid pace of modern communication—social media especially—demands immediate responses, which leads to much simpler, often less nuanced narratives. Political storytelling has shifted from deep reflection to quick soundbites.

Michael Beschloss: Exactly. What Lincoln did in an address could take months to craft, and it would be delivered to an audience willing to listen for hours. Compare that to today’s world, where politicians like Donald Trump use Twitter, an instantaneous medium, to shape narratives. Modern storytelling is more fragmented and reactive. Politicians now have to address multiple audiences across different platforms, making it harder to sustain long, complex narratives. Instead, they focus on emotional triggers that resonate quickly.

Nick Sasaki: That’s fascinating. So, do you think this shift to shorter, faster narratives affects how politicians connect with their audiences? And what about the consequences for leadership? Jill, I’d like to hear your thoughts on this, particularly on how storytelling’s role has evolved in shaping political identity.

Jill Lepore: The rise of mass media certainly changed the game, but the fundamental nature of storytelling—its emotional appeal—remains constant. People want to believe in stories. Lincoln’s tales of self-made success appealed to Americans in the 19th century just as much as Trump’s "America First" narrative does today. The difference is the speed and saturation of storytelling in modern times. Now, narratives don’t just reach more people; they reach them in different, more intimate ways. A politician's tweet can land directly on your phone, creating a more personal connection, but it’s also much more prone to manipulation and oversimplification. Complex ideas get lost in favor of the most emotionally charged soundbite.

Timothy Snyder: I think the evolution of storytelling also reflects deeper changes in society. We’ve moved from a world where narratives were built on shared cultural and moral frameworks—like Lincoln’s appeal to liberty and equality—toward a world where narratives are tailored to niche audiences. Social media algorithms feed you the stories you want to hear, creating echo chambers. This fragmented storytelling fosters division because people aren't exposed to the same narratives anymore. Lincoln’s speeches were meant to unify a nation. Today’s political storytelling often does the opposite, catering to fragmented audiences with different truths.

H.W. Brands: That’s a critical point. The narrative that political leaders build today is designed for rapid consumption, which means it often relies on polarization. Historically, great leaders, like Franklin D. Roosevelt during the New Deal, used storytelling to unite people in times of crisis. Roosevelt’s "fireside chats" created a sense of intimacy and calm in the midst of chaos. But today, even in moments of crisis, leaders seem more likely to exploit division. Trump’s rhetoric, for instance, often pitted groups against each other, which is a far cry from Lincoln or FDR’s attempts to bring people together.

Nick Sasaki: That brings up an interesting challenge. If storytelling is now more about quick, emotional reactions and often leans into division, how does a leader today rise above that? Can they still use storytelling to unify? Or are we too deep into this cycle of fragmented narratives and soundbites?

Doris Kearns Goodwin: It’s a challenge, but it’s not impossible. Barack Obama, for example, understood the need for both immediate, emotional appeal and long-term vision. His storytelling often focused on the "arc of history," which offered a broader, unifying narrative. However, even he had to adapt to the fast-paced media environment. The key for modern leaders is finding the balance between meeting the demands of a hyper-connected world while still building deeper, lasting narratives that can withstand the test of time.

Michael Beschloss: Exactly. Leaders need to strike a balance between immediacy and depth. It’s harder today, but the great ones manage it. We’re in a time where a leader’s story can change from one day to the next depending on the news cycle, but those who build a narrative with a broader, historical perspective—like Obama or FDR—still stand out. Even in this fragmented environment, the public craves a story that resonates beyond the moment.

Nick Sasaki: So, if the essence of political storytelling has stayed the same but the method has evolved, is there a risk that the quick, emotionally charged storytelling we see today could permanently erode the deeper, more unifying narratives of the past?

Jill Lepore: There’s always that risk, but history shows us that storytelling is adaptable. What’s important is that we, as citizens, remain critical consumers of the stories we’re told. If we rely solely on the short-term, emotional narratives, we may lose the ability to engage with the complex ideas that unify us. But if we can encourage leaders who blend immediacy with depth, there’s hope that political storytelling can still serve as a tool for unity, rather than division.

Truth vs. Perception: Can Facts Still Matter in Politics?

Nick Sasaki: In the recent political climate, it feels like perception is king, and truth has taken a backseat. We see political narratives shaped more by how a leader or event is portrayed than by the facts themselves. Do facts still matter in politics, or has perception completely overshadowed them? Let’s start with you, Tim. How do you see the balance between truth and perception in today’s political world?

Timothy Snyder: It’s a critical issue, Nick. Historically, truth has always been under pressure from propaganda and political manipulation, but in recent years, we’ve entered what some scholars call the "post-truth" era. The line between fact and fiction has blurred, particularly because of social media. The speed at which misinformation spreads far outpaces the correction of that information. Perception, particularly emotional perception, seems to have overtaken facts because of how quickly stories can be manipulated and amplified. However, while perception might rule the moment, facts still matter in the long run. Eventually, falsehoods catch up with leaders and movements.

Nick Sasaki: That’s reassuring, but at what point does that reckoning with the truth happen? Jill, what are your thoughts? Has there been a historical precedent for facts being overshadowed for long periods before the truth breaks through?

Jill Lepore: Absolutely. Throughout history, there have been moments when perception outweighed the truth—think of the McCarthy era or the lead-up to the Iraq War. Narratives driven by fear and manipulation can hold sway for years, even decades, before the truth becomes undeniable. But eventually, it does. The danger we face now is that the rapid spread of misinformation can create long-lasting false perceptions, and by the time the truth is revealed, the damage may already be done. Historical precedents show that when people are bombarded with falsehoods, they become desensitized, which makes it even harder for the truth to regain its place in the conversation.

Doris Kearns Goodwin: I agree. It’s important to remember that perception can only carry leaders so far. Facts have a way of catching up with them, but we’ve entered a time when facts can be manipulated so effectively that it’s much harder for the public to discern the truth. In previous eras, there were gatekeepers—journalists, historians, even politicians—who held leaders accountable to some degree. Today, the gatekeepers are fewer, and the audience is much larger, so perception often overrides fact for longer periods. But look at figures like Richard Nixon—Watergate exposed the limits of perception when facts finally emerged.

Nick Sasaki: So, do you think we’ve reached a point where the speed of media and the complexity of political narratives make it impossible for facts to come to the surface until it's too late?

Michael Beschloss: Not entirely. While it's true that the speed of information dissemination makes it harder to fight back against false narratives, I don’t think we’ve reached a point of no return. Look at instances like the 2020 election—despite widespread efforts to manipulate the truth, facts about the legitimacy of the election were upheld by numerous investigations and court rulings. The truth prevailed, but it took time and a lot of effort from institutions committed to uncovering it. So, facts still matter, but they don’t always dominate the narrative right away. It’s a battle of persistence.

H.W. Brands: That’s an important point. The persistence of facts often determines whether or not they will eventually outweigh perception. In the short term, perception can dominate because it’s easier to sell an emotional or simplified version of events. But historically, facts emerge in significant ways over time. For example, public opinion during the Vietnam War eventually shifted as more factual reporting from the front lines contradicted the government’s official narrative. The challenge today is that the sheer volume of information can overwhelm the public, making it harder to separate fact from fiction.

Nick Sasaki: So if we’re in this struggle between fact and perception, how can leaders—or even citizens—fight back against a culture where perception seems to dominate, at least in the short term? What needs to change for facts to regain their weight in political discourse?

Timothy Snyder: I think one key is media literacy. Citizens need to become more discerning about where their information comes from. In a world where anyone can publish anything and present it as fact, the responsibility falls more heavily on the individual to scrutinize what they’re consuming. We need education systems that prioritize critical thinking and fact-checking as essential skills for democracy. Without that, we’re just feeding into a system where perception can be shaped with a few clicks.

Jill Lepore: Yes, and I’d add that institutions also need to be stronger in defending truth. We’ve seen an erosion of trust in the media, in science, in government. That makes it easier for political actors to create alternate realities. Restoring faith in these institutions is crucial if facts are going to matter again. When people don’t trust the source of the facts, they turn to perception, which often feels more emotionally satisfying or aligned with their beliefs.

Doris Kearns Goodwin: And it’s not just about restoring trust in institutions—it’s about leaders themselves being more accountable. In the past, leaders who were caught in a lie faced serious repercussions, either from the media or from their own political base. Today, it seems like many leaders can lie with impunity, without any real consequence. If we want facts to matter again, there must be accountability when the truth is violated, whether through media scrutiny or political consequences at the ballot box.

Michael Beschloss: That’s exactly right. And while it may seem like we’re fighting an uphill battle, there are glimmers of hope. Fact-checking organizations, investigative journalism, and even whistleblowers play important roles in bringing truth to light. The persistence of these forces, combined with an engaged and educated electorate, can turn the tide. It won’t be easy, but facts have always had the power to outlast even the most compelling false narratives.

H.W. Brands: Ultimately, the truth does prevail—sometimes later than we’d like, but it does. The question is how much damage false perceptions can do in the meantime. The longer false narratives persist, the harder it is to repair the harm done, whether it’s trust in the system, social cohesion, or policy decisions based on misinformation.

Nick Sasaki: So, we’re in agreement that facts still matter, but the real challenge is ensuring they can cut through the noise of perception. Media literacy, strong institutions, and holding leaders accountable all seem to be key pieces of that puzzle. It's a daunting task, but one we can’t afford to ignore if we want to preserve the integrity of political discourse.

The Media's Role in Shaping and Reinforcing Political Narratives

Nick Sasaki: The media plays a massive role in shaping how the public perceives political figures and events. In the past, we had a relatively unified media landscape, but today, we’re dealing with a fragmented environment—social media, cable news, independent platforms—each telling its own story. How has this shift impacted the way political narratives are shaped and reinforced? Doris, let’s start with you. How would you compare the media's role in shaping political narratives in Lincoln’s time versus today?

Doris Kearns Goodwin: In Lincoln’s era, the media landscape was still developing, but it was relatively straightforward. Newspapers were the main source of information, and while they were partisan, the pace was slow enough that narratives developed over time. Lincoln, for example, had time to craft responses and guide the public toward understanding his larger vision for the country. Today, however, media is fragmented and incredibly fast-paced. Politicians no longer have that luxury. Every word, every gesture is scrutinized in real-time by a dozen different platforms, each with its own spin. The media no longer just reports; it shapes the narrative as it happens.

Michael Beschloss: I agree, Doris. The media today doesn’t just shape narratives—it creates them, sometimes even before events unfold. With the 24-hour news cycle, there’s constant pressure to fill airtime, which means that speculation and interpretation often replace factual reporting. This has changed the way politicians engage with the media and the public. In the past, FDR’s “fireside chats” were a masterclass in narrative control. He understood the power of the media to reassure and unite the public. Today, it’s harder to create that kind of unified narrative because media outlets, especially cable news, are so polarized. They reinforce the narratives their audiences want to hear, rather than the one a politician is trying to craft.

Jill Lepore: That’s a key point, Michael. The polarization of media outlets has fragmented the way we consume information. In Lincoln’s time, even if newspapers were biased, there was still a shared cultural understanding that people could rally around. Today, we have completely different realities depending on which media outlets you follow. One group sees Kamala Harris as a hero; another sees her as a villain. Social media algorithms exacerbate this, feeding people the stories that confirm their biases. This creates echo chambers where political narratives are not only shaped but reinforced endlessly, making it harder for any single, unified narrative to emerge.

Timothy Snyder: And that fragmentation is incredibly dangerous for democracy. When the media isn’t holding leaders accountable across the board but is instead reinforcing partisan narratives, it becomes nearly impossible for the public to discern what’s true. Look at the spread of disinformation in recent elections—media, especially social media, played a huge role in amplifying falsehoods. These platforms aren’t designed to prioritize truth; they prioritize engagement, which means that the most emotionally charged, often divisive content rises to the top. The media, instead of being a watchdog, has become a tool for manipulating public perception.

Nick Sasaki: So, is the media now more complicit in creating political divisions than ever before? H.W., what’s your take on how the media has shifted from being a check on power to reinforcing political narratives?

H.W. Brands: The media’s role has certainly changed. In the past, particularly during the Watergate scandal, the media played a crucial role in uncovering the truth. Investigative journalism was central to holding power accountable. Today, the media is often more focused on shaping a narrative than uncovering the facts behind it. Cable news networks are driven by ratings, and the most compelling stories are often the most divisive. Social media further complicates this because it allows anyone to become a content creator, and often, the loudest voices drown out the more measured, fact-based reporting. As a result, the media landscape is reinforcing political polarization, rather than bridging it.

Nick Sasaki: So, if media fragmentation and polarization are reinforcing these narratives, what can be done to push back? Is it possible to reclaim the media’s role as an objective check on political power, or are we too far down the rabbit hole?

Doris Kearns Goodwin: It’s difficult, but not impossible. There are still journalists and media outlets committed to investigative reporting and fact-checking. But the public also has to play a role. People need to demand more from their media, and they need to be more discerning about where they get their information. If we continue to consume media passively, we’ll be trapped in the same cycle of fragmentation. But if people start seeking out diverse sources of news, it’s possible to rebuild some sense of shared reality.

Michael Beschloss: I’d also argue that we need to strengthen independent journalism. Right now, many of the most influential media outlets are tied to corporate interests or political agendas, and that makes it harder to get unbiased reporting. Supporting independent outlets that prioritize fact-based journalism is key. But, as Doris said, the public has to be willing to step out of their echo chambers and expose themselves to different perspectives. That’s easier said than done, but it’s essential if we want to restore media as a check on power.

Jill Lepore: And let’s not forget about the role of regulation. Right now, social media platforms are largely unregulated, and they play an outsized role in shaping political narratives. These platforms need to be held accountable for the spread of misinformation and the way their algorithms reinforce political divisions. Regulation that prioritizes transparency and limits the amplification of disinformation could be a step in the right direction.

Timothy Snyder: I’d add that it’s not just about holding social media platforms accountable but also teaching people how to be more critical consumers of information. We need a form of media literacy that’s as central to education as reading and writing. If citizens are trained to recognize misinformation and understand the ways media can manipulate perception, they’ll be better equipped to navigate this fragmented media landscape. It’s about empowering the public to see through the narratives that are being crafted for them.

H.W. Brands: Absolutely. In the end, the media will continue to shape political narratives because that’s its nature. But the way it shapes those narratives can be influenced by an engaged, critical public and a media environment that values truth over sensationalism. It’s a difficult balance, but it’s not beyond repair.

Nick Sasaki: So, we’re in a place where media can both shape and reinforce political narratives, often in ways that exacerbate divisions. But there’s hope if we can foster media literacy, support independent journalism, and hold platforms accountable. The question remains: will the public rise to that challenge, or will we continue down this path of fragmented realities?

The Power of Emotional Narratives in Modern Campaigns

Nick Sasaki: Emotions have always played a role in politics, but today they seem to dominate more than ever. Political campaigns focus on triggering emotions—whether it’s fear, hope, or anger—to connect with voters. This emotional appeal can overshadow policy or facts. So, I’d like to explore the rise of emotionally driven political narratives. How do modern campaigns use emotional storytelling to connect with voters, and what are the consequences of this shift? Let’s start with you, Jill. How do you see the balance between emotional appeal and rational discourse in today’s campaigns?

Jill Lepore: It’s a fascinating and troubling trend, Nick. Historically, political campaigns have always used emotion, but there was also an emphasis on rational discourse and policy. You think of FDR’s "nothing to fear but fear itself" speech—it invoked emotion but also laid out a clear vision for recovery. Today, that balance has shifted dramatically. Modern campaigns often prioritize emotional narratives over policy, partly because emotions drive engagement, especially in our media-saturated environment. Fear and anger, in particular, are powerful motivators, and campaigns have increasingly leaned into those emotions to mobilize voters. The consequences, though, are clear: we end up with more division and less focus on the substantive issues that should be at the core of our politics.

Nick Sasaki: So, campaigns are tapping into emotions to connect, but at the cost of depth. Michael, what’s your take on this? Do you think this trend toward emotional storytelling is a permanent feature of modern politics?

Michael Beschloss: I think it’s a feature of the current political landscape, but it’s not necessarily permanent. We’ve seen moments in history where emotions play a key role, especially during times of crisis. Think about the emotional appeal during wartime or civil rights movements. What’s different now is that emotional narratives are no longer reserved for extraordinary circumstances—they’re used in every campaign, at every level. The rise of social media and 24-hour news cycles feeds into this, rewarding the emotional over the rational because that’s what keeps people watching, clicking, and engaging. But I wouldn’t say it’s irreversible. If a candidate can craft a narrative that appeals to both emotion and reason, they can still break through. It just takes more effort.

Doris Kearns Goodwin: That’s exactly right, Michael. Emotional narratives have their place, but there needs to be a balance. Historically, the most successful leaders have been able to harness emotion while also presenting a clear, rational path forward. Lincoln, for instance, knew how to appeal to people’s sense of justice and empathy, but his speeches were also deeply rooted in moral and political reasoning. Today, it feels like the emotional appeal often lacks that deeper connection to policy or long-term vision. Campaigns are becoming more about creating an emotional response in the moment rather than building a narrative that can guide the country forward.

Timothy Snyder: What we’re seeing is a shift in how campaigns are designed. Modern political strategists are keenly aware that emotional engagement leads to higher voter turnout, and the media amplifies this effect. It’s a short-term win for campaigns, but a long-term danger for democracy. When campaigns are driven by emotion, particularly negative emotion like fear or anger, we lose the ability to have reasoned debates. This is dangerous because democracy depends on dialogue, on the exchange of ideas. Emotional narratives tend to shut that down, creating an "us versus them" mentality where the opposition is demonized, and the focus is no longer on policy but on defeating the enemy.

H.W. Brands: And that’s where we see the most damage—this "us versus them" mentality is incredibly polarizing. It’s not just about policy differences anymore; it’s about identity. Campaigns are increasingly appealing to voters’ sense of identity, whether it’s national, racial, or ideological. Emotional narratives reinforce those identities, and the more entrenched they become, the harder it is to reach across the aisle. This emotional polarization makes it nearly impossible to govern effectively after the election is over because the other side is no longer seen as a legitimate political opponent but as a threat.

Nick Sasaki: So, campaigns are tapping into these deep emotional and identity-driven narratives, but it seems like the consequences are dire. If voters are motivated primarily by emotion, how can we shift back to a more rational, policy-driven discourse? Doris, what do you think it would take for political campaigns to reintroduce reason into the conversation?

Doris Kearns Goodwin: It’s going to take leaders who are willing to take risks. Right now, it’s easier for candidates to rely on emotional appeals because they get immediate results. But the great leaders of history have been those who were able to craft a vision that went beyond the immediate emotional reaction. They appealed to the higher aspirations of the electorate. What we need now are leaders who can not only tap into emotion but also educate the public, explain the complexity of issues, and guide people toward a more thoughtful engagement with politics. It won’t be easy, especially in the current media environment, but it’s possible.

Jill Lepore: And it’s not just about the leaders—it’s also about the media and the public. Right now, the media rewards the most emotional, sensational stories because that’s what gets clicks and ratings. If we want campaigns to focus more on policy, we need media that holds candidates accountable for the substance of their platforms, not just their emotional appeal. And the public needs to demand that, too. If voters keep responding primarily to fear or anger, that’s what campaigns will continue to deliver. It’s a cycle that needs to be broken from multiple angles.

Timothy Snyder: That’s true. But the challenge is that emotional narratives are so deeply embedded in our political culture now, particularly with the rise of populism. Populist movements thrive on emotional appeal because they offer simple solutions to complex problems. They present a clear villain and a clear hero, and that resonates on an emotional level. To counter that, we need to promote political literacy, encouraging citizens to think critically about the narratives they’re being sold. It’s not just about fact-checking—it’s about teaching people to recognize when they’re being manipulated emotionally, and to question the motives behind those narratives.

Michael Beschloss: And we can’t forget that emotions will always be part of politics—that’s human nature. The key is finding a way to integrate emotion with reason. FDR’s fireside chats, for example, were emotional, but they were also deeply informative. He calmed the public’s fears during the Great Depression by offering a clear plan of action, rooted in policy. We need to return to that kind of leadership—leaders who can inspire and reassure, but also educate and guide the public with real solutions.

H.W. Brands: I agree. Emotional narratives aren’t inherently bad. They can inspire hope, drive change, and unify a country in times of crisis. But when they’re used recklessly, or solely for short-term gain, they become dangerous. The challenge for modern campaigns is to strike a balance between emotion and reason, to appeal to the heart but also engage the mind. That’s what leadership is about—bringing people along on a journey that’s both emotionally resonant and intellectually sound.

Nick Sasaki: So, it’s clear that emotions will always play a role in politics, but the goal should be to find a balance between emotional appeal and rational discourse. We need leaders who can inspire with emotion while still offering substantive, policy-driven solutions. It’s about guiding voters toward deeper engagement with the issues, rather than relying solely on emotional triggers. The question is, are we ready to demand that kind of leadership?

The Long-term Impact of Political Narratives on Leadership Legacies

Nick Sasaki: We’ve talked about how political narratives are shaped and reinforced by media, and how emotion plays a key role in campaigns. But what about the long-term impact of these narratives? Once a leader’s time in office is over, how do these narratives influence their legacy? Do they endure, or are they reshaped over time? Michael, let’s start with you. How have political narratives historically affected how leaders are remembered?

Michael Beschloss: Political narratives play a huge role in shaping a leader’s legacy. Immediately after leaving office, a leader’s narrative is often dominated by how they were perceived in the moment. But history has a way of reshaping those narratives as time passes. Take someone like Harry Truman, for example. He left office with very low approval ratings, largely because of the controversies around his foreign policies, particularly the Korean War. But over time, as historians and the public gained more perspective, his narrative shifted. Truman is now seen as one of the most effective presidents of the 20th century. What’s interesting is that these narratives aren’t static—they evolve as we reassess the challenges leaders faced and how their decisions shaped the world.

Nick Sasaki: So, there’s a sense that history can be kinder than the present moment. But do you think that, with the speed and volume of information today, leaders are more locked into their narratives than they were in the past? Jill, how do you think modern media affects the long-term impact of these narratives?

Jill Lepore: That’s a great question. In the past, the media played a slower, more reflective role in shaping narratives, and as Michael mentioned, those narratives could evolve over time. Today, though, leaders are much more defined by immediate perceptions because of the 24/7 news cycle and social media. These platforms tend to cement narratives very quickly, often before the dust has settled. Take George W. Bush, for example—his presidency was largely defined by the Iraq War and his response to 9/11. His approval ratings plummeted during his second term, and that narrative of failure stuck for years. It wasn’t until much later that people began to reassess his legacy, particularly in light of his humanitarian efforts after leaving office. But it took a long time for that reassessment to break through the media narratives that had solidified during his presidency.

Timothy Snyder: I think Jill is absolutely right. The media environment today makes it much harder for leaders to escape the narratives that are built around them while they’re in office. Social media, in particular, tends to flatten complex legacies into soundbites and memes. Once a narrative takes hold, it’s reinforced by algorithms that show people the same information over and over again, often without context or nuance. This makes it harder for long-term reassessments to take place, because the narrative that’s created during a leader’s time in office is so deeply entrenched. It also means that leaders are more likely to be defined by their most controversial moments rather than by the totality of their accomplishments.

Doris Kearns Goodwin: That’s a key point, Timothy. Historically, leaders have been remembered for their overall body of work, with time allowing for a more balanced view. Think of Lyndon Johnson—his legacy was dominated by the Vietnam War, but over time, his accomplishments with civil rights and the Great Society have been more fully appreciated. Today, though, it’s much harder to escape that first impression. And while narratives can shift, they often require a major event or a complete recontextualization of history for that to happen. For modern leaders, the challenge is that they’re constantly being defined and redefined in real-time, which leaves less room for the kind of long-term reassessment that history used to provide.

H.W. Brands: I agree with Doris. The long-term impact of a political narrative is often determined by how flexible that narrative is—whether it’s open to reinterpretation over time. One of the big differences today is that narratives are being written not just by historians or journalists but by ordinary people on social media. That democratization of narrative-building has its positives, but it also means that leaders are constantly subjected to thousands of different interpretations, often conflicting. This makes it harder to establish a coherent legacy. Ronald Reagan is a good example. During his presidency, he was seen by many as a divisive figure, particularly because of his economic policies. But his post-presidency narrative has largely been defined by his role in ending the Cold War. That shift was shaped by historians and public opinion over time. Today, it’s unclear if leaders will have the same opportunity for that kind of narrative transformation.

Nick Sasaki: So, with all these new forces shaping a leader’s legacy in real-time, what can modern politicians do to ensure that their long-term narrative is more reflective of their broader achievements? Is it even possible to manage a legacy anymore, given the constant scrutiny? Doris, do you think modern leaders have any control over how they’ll be remembered?

Doris Kearns Goodwin: I think they do, but it’s much harder. Leaders today have to be very strategic about how they engage with the media and how they frame their own narratives, both while they’re in office and after they leave. Someone like Barack Obama has been very intentional about shaping his post-presidency legacy. His public speeches, his books, and his involvement in causes like climate change and democracy preservation are all part of a deliberate effort to build a narrative that transcends the political battles of his presidency. Leaders have to think long-term, even while they’re dealing with the day-to-day pressures of governing. They can’t control everything, but they can influence how they’ll be remembered by staying true to their values and continuing to contribute after they leave office.

Timothy Snyder: I think there’s also an ethical dimension to this. Leaders should focus less on managing their legacies and more on making decisions that are grounded in truth and justice. History is often kinder to leaders who made difficult decisions in the face of opposition, even if those decisions weren’t popular at the time. Think of Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War or Winston Churchill during World War II. They faced immense criticism, but because they were driven by principle, their legacies have endured. In today’s world, where narratives are constantly shifting, leaders who stay grounded in ethics and a long-term vision for their country are more likely to be remembered positively.

H.W. Brands: And it’s also worth noting that time tends to reveal the true impact of a leader’s decisions. The narratives that are built around leaders in the moment are often incomplete because they don’t account for the long-term consequences of their policies. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, for example, was controversial at the time, but it’s now seen as one of the most significant achievements in American history. The key for modern leaders is to understand that their legacy will ultimately be shaped by history’s judgment, not just by the immediate narrative created by the media or public opinion.

Jill Lepore: Exactly. The long-term impact of political narratives is always subject to change because history is never static. As new challenges arise and new information comes to light, our understanding of past leaders evolves. Modern leaders need to be aware of this, but they also need to focus on making the right decisions for the moment, knowing that the narrative will continue to evolve long after they’re gone. It’s about finding a balance between responding to the immediate pressures of leadership and keeping an eye on how history will judge those actions.

Nick Sasaki: So, while it’s harder for modern leaders to control their narratives given the speed and fragmentation of the media, there’s still hope for a long-term reassessment. Time has a way of bringing out the truth, and leaders who are guided by ethics and a long-term vision can still shape their legacies in meaningful ways. It may be more challenging now, but history still has the final word.

Short Bios:

Doris Kearns Goodwin: Pulitzer Prize-winning historian and author, known for her in-depth works on U.S. presidents like Abraham Lincoln and Franklin D. Roosevelt, focusing on leadership in turbulent times.

Michael Beschloss: Presidential historian and best-selling author who specializes in U.S. history and the dynamics of leadership, regularly providing commentary on major news networks.

Jill Lepore: Harvard historian and New Yorker writer, renowned for her work on American politics, culture, and the role of storytelling in shaping national identity.

Timothy Snyder: Yale historian and author of On Tyranny, an expert on authoritarianism, propaganda, and the threats to democracy, with a focus on political narratives in history.

H.W. Brands: Historian and author, known for his biographies of prominent American figures like Franklin D. Roosevelt and Ronald Reagan, exploring their leadership and political legacies.