By Ben Emos | Saturday, January 17, 2026 | 4 min read
Shame should be the first word that comes to mind when looking at Ronald Lauder’s latest display of influence. For years, he has moved comfortably in the shadows of power, presenting himself as a global guardian of Jewish communities, a generous philanthropist, and the kind of well‑connected insider whose calls presidents rarely ignore. But influence used without restraint is never harmless. When someone in his position treats it like a personal instrument, it doesn’t just bend a headline or two. It can unsettle long‑standing alliances, distort public conversations, and—most shamefully—slip reckless ideas into the minds of leaders who are already prone to impulsive decisions.
Lauder’s now‑infamous role in encouraging Donald Trump to consider the “purchase” or annexation of Greenland is one of those moments that deserves far more scrutiny than it received. The episode was dismissed by some as another eccentric Trumpian impulse, a geopolitical oddity to be laughed off. But for people in Denmark and Greenland, it was not a joke. It was a threat—one that carried the weight of the U.S. presidency behind it.
And if the reporting is accurate, the idea didn’t come out of a formal policy memo or a sober strategic review. It surfaced instead through Ronald Lauder, who has spoken publicly about his personal connections to people whose lives were shaped—and scarred—by past wars.
This is the same Lauder who, in his opinion piece “Sweden’s Shame,” castigated Swedish officials, clergy, and journalists for what he described as “fanning the flames” of antisemitism. He positioned himself as a moral authority, a man unafraid to call out governments for their failures. Yet the irony is impossible to ignore: while he scolded Sweden for allegedly inflaming hatred, he himself was whispering into the ear of a president known for impulsive decisions and a shaky grasp of international norms.
If Sweden’s leaders deserved public shaming for their rhetoric, then what does Lauder deserve for encouraging a sitting U.S. president to entertain the idea of annexing territory belonging to a close ally?
The Greenland episode was not harmless. It strained U.S.–Danish relations, insulted the people of Greenland, and introduced a bizarre, unnecessary tension into the North Atlantic. Denmark suddenly found itself having to respond to a hypothetical that should never have existed in the first place. Greenlanders—who have their own history of colonization, displacement, and cultural erasure—were forced to listen to foreign leaders discuss their homeland as if it were a real‑estate listing.
Lauder’s proximity to Trump is not the issue. Many people advise presidents. The problem is the irresponsibility of the advice. When someone with Lauder’s stature floats the idea of acquiring another country’s territory, it is not a thought experiment. It is a provocation. It is the kind of suggestion that, in the wrong hands, can escalate into diplomatic conflict or worse.
And it is particularly galling coming from a man who has built a public persona around moral clarity. In “Sweden’s Shame,” Lauder argued that silence in the face of wrongdoing is complicity. On that point, he is right. But moral consistency requires that he apply the same standard to himself. If he believes that leaders must be held accountable for rhetoric that endangers communities, then he must accept accountability for rhetoric that endangers nations.
Denmark and Greenland did not ask to be dragged into a geopolitical spectacle. They did not ask to become the punchline of late‑night monologues or the subject of presidential fantasies. They certainly did not ask to be treated as bargaining chips in someone else’s political game.
If Lauder wants to talk about shame, he should start with the mirror.
Influence comes with responsibility. When used wisely, it can protect vulnerable communities and strengthen international cooperation. When used recklessly, it can destabilize alliances and sow distrust. Lauder chose the latter path when he encouraged Trump’s Greenland fixation. And if he expects others to answer for their words, then he should be prepared to answer for his own.
It is time to say it plainly: the shame in this story does not belong to Denmark, or Greenland, or Sweden. It belongs to Ronald Lauder.