By Juan Larrosa, February 17, 2025
In recent days, we have witnessed an overwhelming saturation of topics on the public agenda, both internationally and nationally. Anyone following the news has likely felt the omnipresence of Donald Trump in their daily lives. Every day—sometimes multiple times a day—he announces new measures: imposing tariffs, presenting absurd proposals to resolve the conflict in Gaza, suggesting peace solutions for the war between Russia and Ukraine, threatening new sanctions against China and other countries, and cutting off aid from USAID, the United States’ central humanitarian assistance agency.
Each day, he signs a new decree; each day, he generates a new controversy. It feels like we live in a relentless flood of Trump-related news. Journalists from major media outlets like The New York Times have acknowledged the difficulty of keeping up with this information avalanche. This phenomenon is no accident. It is what I have previously called the politics of chaos: the continuous generation of conflict as a political strategy. In this model, conflict is not a crisis to be resolved but a tool to remain constantly present in public discourse.
In this context, I want to introduce a concept I have developed in my research: public communicative abundance. This term does not refer to advertising in the commercial sense but rather to the practices that construct and intervene in the public sphere. Public communicative abundance describes governments that seek to saturate public space with constant messaging, regardless of its truthfulness or relevance. The goal is not to inform but to flood every channel with discourse, ensuring that the president’s figure remains at the center of public conversation.
This phenomenon is not new. In Mexico, we saw it with Andrés Manuel López Obrador and his daily morning press conferences, which dominated the public agenda for years. With Trump’s return, we can expect this strategy to continue in the United States for at least the next four years.
From a broader perspective, this phenomenon can be understood within the logic of contemporary capitalism. Just as consumer markets are flooded with ultra-processed products—fast, cheap, and low quality—the political and media landscape is inundated with relentless information. This informational overload leads to paralysis, inaction, and a sense of helplessness in the face of overwhelming data and statements.
I recall an experience illustrating the contrast between public communicative abundance and a more measured approach to public communication. Years ago, while advising a community radio station in an Indigenous community, we suggested designing a 24/7 programming schedule. Their response was revealing: Why does it have to be that way? Why can’t we use the radio when we genuinely need it? That reaction helps clarify the difference between an instrumentalized approach to communication that seeks to overwhelm the public and a public-minded approach, where communication serves shared interests rather than political dominance.
The model of public communicative abundance and the politics of chaos, where information is wielded as a tool of domination, likely profoundly affect collective mental health. This system keeps us constantly alert, on edge, and burdened with anxiety. We have yet to understand the societal consequences of these epistemic dysfunctions fully, but they are undoubtedly unfolding before us.