Recently, President Donald Trump made headlines for saying that a president “should not have learning disabilities,” explicitly referencing California Governor Gavin Newsom’s dyslexia. The comment immediately sparked backlash, but beyond the outrage, it raises a question worth asking seriously: Does a learning disability actually make someone less capable of leading—or is this just an old stigma repackaged as political strategy?
The answer is no. Dyslexia does not make someone less of a politician, less of a journalist, less of a leader, or less of a person. Yet, statements like Trump’s, that continue to dominate headlines, perpetuate a cultural misconception: that struggling with reading or spelling is somehow equivalent to incompetence, which is far from the truth.
“We have a low-IQ person, you know, because Gavin Newscum has admitted that he is a – that he has learning disabilities,” Trump, while using a nickname he coined for Newsom, told reporters in the Oval Office on March 16. “Honestly, I’m all for people with learning disabilities, but not for my president. I think the president should not have learning disabilities, okay, and I know it’s highly controversial to say such a horrible thing.”
The Cleveland Clinic defines dyslexia as a learning disability that affects your ability to read, write and spell accurately. It happens when your brain has trouble understanding written words, and according to the Yale Center for Dyslexia and Creativity, this lifelong condition, which impacts about 1 in 5 people, has nothing to do with a person’s intelligence.
I speak from experience. I have dyslexia. Most people cannot tell because I speak and write in a way that sounds articulate, but I often misspell words. I rely heavily on tools like Grammarly and double-check everything I write. I have had the privilege of access to resources and support that have allowed me to navigate it effectively. I remember being pulled out of class for reading and speech therapy, and without that help, I would have struggled far more.
None of this has prevented me from pursuing a career in journalism, producing stories, interviewing sources, or analyzing complex issues. My dyslexia has never made me less competent at doing my job—it has simply meant I approach communication differently, sometimes more meticulously than others. While I speak from my experience with dyslexia, this applies to anyone whose cognitive differences don’t define their capacity to lead.
The reality is that dyslexia is just a different way someone processes language— it is not an indicator of intelligence, judgement, or moral character. Many accomplished leaders and innovators, such as Stephen Spielberg, John F. Kennedy and Thomas Edison, are dyslexic. They succeeded, not despite it, but because of the unique ways they thought and problem-solved.
From my perspective, leadership is best understood as a function of decision-making, ethical judgment, vision, coalition-making, and the ability to act responsibly under pressure. It is not measured by how someone reads on paper.
The Center for Creative Leading says that leadership is defined by three outcomes– “direction, alignment, and commitment — and it’s a social process, where individuals work together to produce results that they could never achieve alone.”
It’s worth noting the contrast here: voters are asked to choose leaders based on policies, ethics, and moral judgment. Dyslexia does not compromise any of those areas. A leader’s character, their decisions, and their ability to act responsibly are what should matter—not an arbitrary measure of learning ability.
Does Newsom’s dyslexia make him less of a politician? Absolutely not. His record as governor shows policy initiatives, governance decisions, and leadership abilities that can be evaluated, debated, and critiqued. Those are what matter. Not his spelling. Not his reading speed. Not whether he sometimes struggles to read aloud without hesitation. If anything, focusing on a leader’s personal traits unrelated to their ability to govern is a distraction from the real evaluation voters need to make.
Personally, I would prefer a dyslexic leader over someone with documented harmful behaviors or morally questionable actions any day. Leadership is not about perfection; it is about responsibility, vision, and service. Dyslexia can force someone to develop creative strategies, prioritize the most important information, and communicate in ways that are clear and effective. Those are leadership skills.
From my perspective as a journalist, it’s also deeply ironic that Trump is critiquing someone else’s cognitive differences while making questionable decisions himself. Leadership requires judgment, morality, and the ability to act in the best interest of people, not a perfect score on a spelling test. Framing a learning difference as a political liability is both a moral misstep and a manipulation of public perception.
It’s worth noting the contrast here: voters are asked to choose leaders based on policies, ethics, and moral judgment. Dyslexia does not compromise any of those areas. A leader’s character, their decisions, and their ability to act responsibly are what should matter—not an arbitrary measure of learning ability.
Statements like Trump’s are damaging because they reinforce outdated stereotypes and contribute to the marginalization of people with learning differences. But they also offer an opportunity: to challenge assumptions about what makes someone fit to lead.
Competence is not measured by reading speed or spelling; it is measured by judgment, integrity, and action. Unfortunately, this behavior isn’t new. In 2015, Trump mocked a reporter with a disability, reinforcing harmful assumptions about ability. Now, by questioning Governor Newsom’s fitness for office because of his dyslexia, he repeats a familiar and damaging pattern.
The media coverage of Trump’s comments should not distract from the real evaluation of any politician’s ability to govern. Dyslexia does not disqualify anyone from leadership. In fact, the ability to navigate challenges, think creatively, and communicate effectively—traits often strengthened by living with dyslexia—can be assets in positions of power.
The idea that someone like me—or someone like Newsom—could be disqualified from leadership because of how we process information is absurd. It is a modern-day example of judging people for traits that have no bearing on their real-world competence.
I know what it means to live with dyslexia. It can be challenging and can make simple tasks feel impossible at times, but it does not make me any less capable of reporting the news, analyzing policies, or holding those in power accountable.
Governor Gavin Newsom remains a capable, competent politician, and judging him by something as irrelevant as his learning differences does a disservice to both voters and leaders alike.
Let’s judge our leaders by what they do, not by how they learn. The country deserves that much.
