As usual, Trump called me a sleaze. But the audience reaction was more upsetting.

I was a living example of something I knew then, and have come to know even better since, and these days we see it in places as storied and solemn as the East Room of the White House. We all tend to surrender our moral authority to “the group,” to still our own inner voices and assume that the group will handle whatever difficult issue we face. We imagine that the group is making thoughtful decisions, and if the crowd is moving in a certain direction, we follow, as if the group is some moral entity larger than ourselves.

In the face of the herd, and often to avoid being targeted ourselves, we go quiet and let the group’s brain and soul handle things. Of course, the group has no brain or soul separate from each of ours. But by imagining that the group has these imaginary centers of power, we abdicate responsibility, which allows all groups to be hijacked by the loudest voice, the person who knows how brainless groups really are and uses that to his advantage.

Even though he wouldn’t write those sentences, or read them, Trump knows all this. It is his gift, as it has been the gift of demagogues throughout history, to play on human weakness. He knows that good, principled people — who would never lie, curse or belittle the faith of another person — will go along, be swept along, at a rally, in a meeting, maybe silent, maybe smiling, maybe on their feet waving a MAGA hat. But they will go along. They will still their inner voices.