Personally, I’ve enjoyed reading Wolff over the years. You can call him many things (see the preceding paragraph), but never dull. I do not know Wolff nor can I vouch for his credibility. Though I should add that a mutual acquaintance of ours, after spotting an anecdote he’d casually tossed off to Wolff turn up in Fire and Fury, reported this to me of Wolff’s seemingly slack methodology: “[He got it] from me, which I got from a woman on the beach in Florida, who heard it in a carpool line. Literally. I had no idea he was including it. That guy is a serious bullshit artist. Wow.”

Whether Wolff is or isn’t a bullshit artist, one can argue that the most pressing concern surrounding Fire and Fury isn’t that we don’t know for certain what we should or shouldn’t believe. Rather, it’s that so much of it is believable. Whether Trump did or didn’t do these things, they’re completely within the realm of possibility. This is the same president, after all, who just one day before the Fire and Fury hubbub broke compared—on Twitter—the size of his nuclear “button” to that of Kim Jong-un. (Spoiler alert: Trump’s is “a much bigger & more powerful one than his, and my Button works!”)