A legal complaint is meant to be a sober, precise, and disciplined document. It is the formal mechanism that sets the gears of justice in motion.
But when the President of the United States filed an $85 billion lawsuit against The New York Times, the document submitted was anything but disciplined, forcing a federal judge to deliver a stunning and forceful lesson on the fundamental difference between the rule of law and political performance art.
What Did Trump’s Lawyers Actually File?
The 85-page complaint was less a legal argument and more a political manifesto, seemingly designed for a press release rather than judicial review.
The document was littered with random images and lengthy, irrelevant passages detailing the President’s pre-political career, including his time hosting “The Apprentice” and his involvement in beauty pageants.
In one extraordinary passage, the President’s lawyers argued that his reality show “represented the cultural magnitude of President Trump’s singular brilliance, which captured the zeitgeist of our time.” It was a legal filing that read like a campaign ad, substituting flattery and political grievance for the “short and plain statement” required by federal law.
As writer Jesse Berney summarized, the lawsuit is “like an 85-page Trump Truth Social post. It’s hilarious.”
The Judge’s Scathing Response
U.S. District Judge Steven Merryday, a George H.W. Bush appointee, was not amused. He did not rule on the merits of the defamation claim. Instead, he struck the entire complaint from the record for its flagrant disregard for the rules and dignity of the court, issuing an order dripping with disdain for the lawyers’ approach.
“As every lawyer knows (or is presumed to know), a complaint is not a public forum for vituperation and invective — not a protected platform to rage against an adversary. A complaint is not a megaphone for public relations or a podium for a passionate oration at a political rally…”
The judge effectively told the President’s legal team to go back and write a complaint worthy of a federal court, giving them 28 days to file a shorter, more “dignified” document.
An Article III Court Defends Its Integrity
This is far more than a simple procedural slap-down. It is a powerful assertion of the judiciary as a co-equal branch of government, governed by its own set of sacred rules and norms. In our constitutional system, Article III courts are designed to be insulated from the passions of politics.
They are forums for the sober application of law to fact.
Judge Merryday’s order is a defense of that institutional integrity. It is a declaration that the judiciary will not allow its processes to be co-opted for political spectacle or used as a PR tool. By demanding a complaint that is “fairly, precisely, directly, soberly, and economically” stated, he drew a bright line between the world of political rallies and the world of legal justice.
A Guardrail for the First Amendment?
While not explicitly stated, the judge’s action serves as an important guardrail against the weaponization of the courts to attack the free press. Frivolous, rambling, and improperly filed lawsuits can be used as a tool to intimidate and financially drain news organizations, creating a chilling effect on First Amendment rights.
By enforcing the basic rules of procedure, Judge Merryday ensures that any claim, especially one from the highest office in the land, must meet a threshold of seriousness and clarity before it can proceed.
The President’s lawyers have four weeks to try again, but this initial clash has already served as a powerful reminder that while the White House commands immense political power, the courtroom operates under a different and more disciplined authority.