The briefings had already earned an unflattering comparison to Vietnam War–era “5 O’Clock Follies,” and that was before Trump’s disastrous live thought exercise in disinfection methods during Thursday’s briefing, followed by a nearly as disastrous cleanup effort the next day; as it turned out, no amount of Clorox could bleach the stain. Yet even with the recognition of the daily debacle’s political toll, Trump can’t bring himself to quit.

Andrew Ferguson: Trump’s 5 o’clock follies

This is a testament to both the president’s own predilections and the administration’s overarching approach to governing. As surly and piqued as Trump can appear during a press conference, it’s also clear that he loves the format. In fact, it’s one of the few presidential duties he actually seems to enjoy. He delighted in press conferences during the 2016 campaign, though he ended them after—this may sound familiar—he made a disastrous gaffe during one. He brought them back for a time early in his presidency, too. Trump savors jousting with reporters, which both spotlights his gift for insult and serves his project of undermining the press. He loves the pomp, in which he gets to perform being president before the nation and, perhaps more important, the little red lights of the cameras. And because Trump is a lifelong salesman, press conferences are a chance for him to act in the familiar role of pitchman.

It’s little surprise, then, that the administration’s entire approach to the pandemic has revolved around communications. Trump has largely sidelined public-health professionals, save the ubiquitous Anthony Fauci and Deborah Birx. (CNN reports that Trump may scale back meetings of his pandemic task force, too, suggesting that the body was mostly there as a gesture.) Where the federal government has offered public-health advice, Trump has tended to get in its way or muddle it. Trump’s anxiety about the economy—which connects to his personal business and political prospects, both imperiled—has driven him to agitate for the reopening of the economy. But he has been almost entirely irrelevant to economic-stimulus efforts, with Fed Chair Jay Powell, Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin, and leaders in Congress driving the train.

Even the few occasions on which Trump has intervened in policy—lambasting companies for (allegedly) not working with the government closely enough, or backing the bus over Governor Brian Kemp of Georgia for moving to reopen his state—have tended to come during briefings. Notwithstanding the occasional lashing-out at other authorities, whether in asserting absolute authority over states or threatening to adjourn Congress, Trump has demonstrated that he’s more than happy for states and Congress to make the tough policy choices. He’s just there to try to spin the situation.