Trump wants our attention. Let’s stop falling for his geopolitical clickbait | Catherine De Vries

WWhen Donald Trump reassured the world that he would not, after all, use force to acquire Greenland – after days of repeated threats – he was doing what he does best: turning geopolitics into spectacle. Whether Trump actually believed that the United States should acquire a vast Arctic territory belonging to a NATO ally is secondary to the fact that once again he ensured that Europe and the rest of the world focused on his agenda.

Trump is not a politician who reacts to events – he seeks to create them. Not because he is deeply interested in political details, but because he understands a defining characteristic of contemporary politics: attention is power. In an age of information overload, there is no shortage of data or analysis; what is missing is attention. And whoever controls that controls the debate.

Steve Bannon once described Trump’s domestic strategy as “flooding the zone with shit.” In other words, creating so many scandals that opponents no longer know which ones count. The media runs after everything, the opposition is perpetually outraged and no one has the mental space to set their own priorities. This logic and the tactics that accompany it are now also deployed by the United States in its foreign policy.

Trump’s threats against Denmark and Greenland were not isolated provocations, but a form of geopolitical bait. Their goal was to dominate the information cycle, push other governments into a reactive mode, and crowd out long-term strategic thinking. Greenland was perfect for this. It is strategically important – located in the Arctic, between North America and Europe – but remote enough that few voters have in-depth knowledge of it. This made it ideal for grabbing attention: dramatic enough for headlines, vague enough for endless speculation.

It also triggered real anxiety. Greenland touches on NATO solidarity, Arctic security and the vulnerability of a semi-autonomous territory. Denmark has already increased its military presence there, discreetly supported by other European states.

Yet the central question throughout this episode was not whether Trump would act, but whether Europe was obliged to respond. As governments issue statements and coordinate positions, Trump moves on to the next provocation (tariffs, Iran, Venezuela, NATO, migration), leaving a trail of diplomatic distraction. European leaders become minor characters or extras in a political theater whose script is written in Washington.

But behind this spectacle hides a coherent program. Trump’s national security strategy for the second term makes clear that Europe is no longer seen as a partner in a rules-based order. Instead, it is portrayed as a declining, elite-led liberal bloc that is holding back the rise of nationalist forces. Washington’s support is not presented as mutual interest, but as a transaction. Leaders ideologically aligned with Trump are promised preferential treatment, while others face pressure.

In this logic, Greenland is not simply a territory. This is a lever: a way of signaling to Denmark, and more broadly to the EU, which sets the conditions of engagement. And Europe is particularly vulnerable to this kind of pressure because its attention is so easily fragmented.

Each Trump provocation affects differently across the continent. Arctic threats worry Scandinavia. Trade disputes hit exporters. The war in Ukraine is the largest in Eastern Europe. And so on. Each episode produces a different coalition of affected states. What it does not produce is lasting strategic unity.

This is the vulnerability Trump is exploiting. A Europe that always reacts never plans. Every problem seems urgent. The price of capturing your attention is strategic short-termism.

So what should Europe do? There needs to be a response on two levels. First, it must respond to Trump’s provocations in a calm, collective and disciplined manner. When a US president questions the territorial integrity of a NATO ally, Europe cannot ignore it. But European leaders should avoid the response Trump seeks: emotional, fragmented and uncoordinated. The objective must be a message delivered with consistency and purpose.

Second, Europe must invest in its own long-term security strategy, independent of Trump’s daily political whirlwind. This requires accepting a difficult reality: U.S. domestic politics no longer constitutes a temporary disruption of transatlantic stability. Trump has demonstrated how easily American foreign policy can revert to transactional nationalism. Europe must plan accordingly for key priorities such as security and geoeconomic resilience. Poland’s Donald Tusk stands out, for example, by keeping Warsaw focused on European coordination on Ukraine and defense, rather than reacting to every provocation from Trump.

Europe has no shortage of answers – reports from former Italian prime ministers Enrico Letta and Mario Draghi bear witness to this – but it lacks the capacity to act.

The central lesson of Trump’s second term is not that global politics has become chaotic, but that attention itself has become a strategic battleground of international politics. And attention wars aren’t won by reacting faster. They are earned by deciding what deserves attention. Europe does not need to get ahead of Trump on social media. We must overcome it.