Old and busted: “Ron DeSanctimonious” and “Meatball.” New hotness: “Tiny D”?

Supposedly, that’s the new scornful nickname that Donald Trump is field-testing against the man everyone assumes will be his toughest challenger, according to Bloomberg. One could try quibbling with their sourcing and claim that it’s nonsense, except (a) Team Trump has always leaked like a sieve, and (b) it’s Trump’s basic campaign tactic, or perhaps even his signature move.

That might present a bigger problem than “Tiny D” does:

Trump, allies say, seems set on “Ron DeSanctimonious,” even though others around him don’t think it’s a bullseye. Some of the new ideas the former president’s entertained: “Ron DisHonest.” “Ron DeEstablishment.” Or even, “Tiny D.”

His team has spent weeks trying to dig up dirt on DeSantis’s record as governor; his wife, Casey, a former television journalist; his year teaching at a boarding school in Georgia and his record as a member of Congress, including support for raising the US retirement age and partly privatizing Medicare as part of then-Speaker Paul Ryan’s conservative budget plan.

Yet while Trump’s competitors for the nomination — announced and unannounced — spend their time traveling to key primary states, courting wealthy donors and lining up top staff, the former president’s more lackadaisical approach has concerned some allies. He has acknowledged the criticism, telling supporters at recent events that his campaign activity is accelerating and he’s taking the contest seriously.

Assuming this is accurate, it paints a picture of someone going through the motions. Trump had the field to himself for three months, and yet barely budged to take advantage of it. He’s held a few rallies and called a few names, but Trump has had a grand opportunity since mid-November to set himself up as a ‘shadow president’ of sorts. He could have called together key experts, produced extensive policy outlines on major issues, and stumped the country to build support based on his substance.

Instead, Trump has mainly holed himself up at Mar-a-Lago. The East Palestine train derailment was a significant exception, and Trump seized the moment wisely. He showed up soon after the derailment, brought emergency supplies, and tried to boost the morale of the community. That’s what a ‘shadow president’ can do, especially when the actual administration sits on its hands. Pete Buttigieg didn’t take those steps until afterward, and Joe Biden still hasn’t shown up.

However, Trump only did that after Biden administration officials attempted to blame the disaster on his presidency. That burst of engagement seems to be motivated mainly by Trump’s own self-interest, even though he’s officially running to get back into the Oval Office.

The overall impression thus far from the Trump effort is “tired.” That’s true of Trump’s lack of campaign energy, and especially true of his nickname strategy. That may have been fun in 2015-16 as a novelty act, especially when skewering competitors that Trump and his supporters saw as “establishment,” but the novelty has long since worn off of Trump.

One-trick ponies singing their only hit song over and over again eventually wear out their welcome. And it’s not as if Trump has only one hit song — he has four years of a presidency on which to run — but that Trump seems to think that’s all he has.

Trump plans to run against DeSantis on some substance too, and a look at DeSantis’ congressional track record is fair game. But it also shows that DeSantis can do what Trump apparently cannot: adapt. DeSantis spent his time in Congress as a Heritage Foundation-esque conservative immersed in policy. When he ran for governor in 2018, he had already adapted to the new populist environment, and then spent four years so successfully governing it that he won a 19-point landslide against Democrats in a state that Trump carried by only less than four percentage points two years earlier.

DeSantis has adapted; Trump has not. DeSantis has energy to burn, engaging voters and donors around the country while still making high-profile policy moves in Florida. Trump has barely engaged at all, and is plotting a 2015 strategy in a 2023 environment, either unable or unwilling to recognize that his position has changed. It points back to Trump’s fatal weakness in the pandemic — his inability to adapt to the crisis and tone down the chaos around himself and his campaign, which led to voters seizing on a chance at normalcy instead. And three years later, Trump still hasn’t adapted, nor seems inclined to even try, not even to explain what he’d do differently against Biden other than the same losing campaign he ran in 2020.

When it comes to the primaries, the choice voters may face will be whether to back “Tiny D” or “Tired D.” Unless Trump starts acting with more substance and seriousness, “Tired D” is going to have a very tough run.