Names are a useful way to be mean. Labeling the class nerd a doofus may make the class bully feel bigger than he is—for a little while. Until, that is, the nerd gets into a good college by swotting away at the books, or the doofus, after judo lessons, lands the bully on his back. Trump is a master of the insulting nickname, a tool he uses not only to cut down his opponents but also because he likes to wound. He enjoys the petty cruelty of it.

And to a particular kind of broken child, names can be a way of showing how clever you are in a similarly mean way. The Confederate names had been taken off the forts, but Hegseth no doubt feels that he has been very clever by, for example, restoring the name of Fort A. P. Hill using the last names or initials of Private Bruce Anderson, First Sergeant Robert A. Pinn, and Lieutenant Colonel Edward Hill—A. P. Hill, get it? One can practically see the smirks and elbow nudges and hear the “nyuck nyuck” of adolescent laughter. Hegseth wanted the Confederate names and, for now, got them in by the back door.

Malevolent children can be obnoxious, or even scary. But they are also pitiful creatures. The ones who never grow up will spend their lives hurting others—strangers, friends, and family alike—and usually themselves. They will never feel the weight of adult responsibilities and remorse or know the adult satisfactions and the adult joys. Some of them will forever have an emptiness inside them that they cannot fill. They will live with a deep anxiety that their frauds and cheats will be discovered and that, in the end, the magical names they have devised will be wiped away and the spells dissolved. Their brokenness will remain irreparable, their fears and unhappiness unassuageable. Unfortunately, though, they may grow up to be Cabinet secretaries, and who knows—perhaps even president of the United States of America.

theatlantic.com - Donald trump renaming