In news that sent shockwaves through the global community on Thursday morning, current U.S. president and aspiring authoritarian Donald Trump penned a letter to North Korean leader and current authoritarian Kim Jong-un in which he withdrew from their summit in Singapore that had been scheduled for June 12. "Sadly, based on the tremendous anger displayed in your most recent statement," wrote Trump, "I feel it is inappropriate, at this time, to have this long-planned meeting." Although Trump leaves open the possibility of resuming talks between the two countries should Kim temper his rhetoric, for now, it appears that it will take more to solve one of the most vexing problems in modern diplomatic history than a flurry of unhinged tweets threatening global thermonuclear war.

This development makes those full-color commemorative challenge coins into one of the funniest artifacts of Washington-adjacent memorabilia since those "DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN" headlines. It also casts serious doubt on the prospect of Trump, who campaigned as a dealmaker who could negotiate breakthroughs beyond the ken of most politicians, receiving the Nobel Peace Price for which a Greek chorus of Fox News sycophants and 18 members of Congress immediately nominated him. The Norwegian Nobel Committee, it turns out, does not hand out gold medals and million-dollar checks to men whose most significant accomplishment is facilitating the equivalent of a cancelled Outlook calendar event.

The White House, of course, is still claiming victory, noting in its letter that it secured the release of three American hostages during Secretary of State Mike Pompeo's recent visit to Pyongyang. While factually correct, this sort of thing also happened several times during the Obama administration, though, which makes North Korea just one more policy arena in which Donald Trump has failed to accomplish his one goal of measuring up to his predecessor—who, it should be noted, does have a Nobel Peace Prize with his name emblazoned on it.

Although it is fun to delight in this president's penchant for demonstrating ineptitude, as usual, the commander-in-chief's actions entail serious potential consequences. Even if Kim, in private, had no intention of abandoning his nuclear agenda, he can point to Trump's unilateral withdrawal as proof that the United States was acting in bad faith, and that North Korea needs a robust nuclear weapons program as insurance against future double-cross attempts like this one. On the other side of the DMZ, dispatches from South Korea indicate that Trump sandbagged Seoul by providing no notice of his decision, which further diminishes the status of the United States as a reliable partner within the global community.

Most unsettling of all, though, is that the premature failure of what is generally a late-stage diplomatic event—a high-stakes detente between the leaders of two hostile nations on the brink of armed conflict—makes the possibility of hurtling over it a little more likely. If the two most powerful representatives couldn't reach an accord with the whole world watching, or even sit down for a face-to-face meeting, what else is left to try? Trump's letter seems to acknowledge as much, with unsettling nonchalance. "You talk about your nuclear capabilities," he wrote to Kim, as John Bolton licked at his mustache in anticipation somewhere, "but ours are so massive and powerful that I pray to God they will never have to be used." The sentiment is nice, but it doesn't sound like he means it.