In the 29 days that the government has been closed, President Donald Trump has not traveled to Capitol Hill to jump-start negotiations, brought congressional leaders to the White House to broker a deal, or given a speech to the American public about the crisis.

He’s done a lot else in October: traveled out of the country twice; defended the demolition of the East Wing to make room for a giant ballroom; asked for (and, in several cases, received) prosecutions of his political enemies and granted clemency to allies; demanded a $230 million payment to himself from the Justice Department; and authorized numerous strikes on alleged drug boats. Trump has also posted AI-generated videos of himself dressed like a king, using a fighter jet to drop excrement on protesters, or, parodying Blue Öyster Cult’s “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper,” playing cowbell as his budget director (dressed as the Grim Reaper) seeks to traumatize the federal workforce.

But when it comes to the government shutdown, Trump barely seems to be paying attention. Some of this aloofness is by design, the president’s aides told us, describing a month-long strategy of putting the onus for reopening the government on Democrats. It’s a departure from how Trump handled a shutdown during his first term, when, over the course of 35 days, he employed tactics that are a lot more standard for a president: huddling with lawmakers, empathizing with furloughed workers, and addressing the American public. As the country approaches November 1, when money for food-assistance benefits will run out and many Americans will receive notices stating that their health-care premiums for next year will skyrocket, some Republicans have begun to push back against Trump’s absentee approach. They’re signaling publicly and in private that they want him to employ an The Art of the Deal–type strategy and help end the shutd