Pay attention to what Trump lies about most

The Pattern Behind the Claims

Donald Trump’s assertion during the debate that immigrants in Ohio were consuming pets was not an isolated incident. It echoed earlier claims made at campaign rallies and aligned with a long-standing narrative in which migrants are portrayed as threats to national safety and cultural identity. Fact-checkers noted that Springfield’s city manager confirmed there had been no credible reports of pet harm, injury, or abuse by members of the immigrant community. Yet Trump insisted he had seen people on television making similar claims, reinforcing the idea despite lacking verifiable evidence.

This tendency to repeat unverified or disproven statements is not random. Observers have identified a consistent focus in Trump’s falsehoods: they overwhelmingly concern migrants, refugees, and asylum seekers. Whether describing them as ‘rapists,’ ‘criminals,’ bearers of disease, or inmates of prisons and asylums, the rhetoric consistently frames newcomers as dangerous outsiders. Notably, such claims are rarely applied to immigrants from countries like Norway, whom Trump has said he would welcome more of—highlighting a racial and ethnic dimension to the selective distrust.

Why These Lies Persist

The repetition of specific falsehoods serves a strategic purpose. By continually associating immigrant communities with crime, disease, and social decay, political figures can amplify fear and resentment among certain voter bases. This process, known as ‘othering,’ narrows the definition of who belongs in society and who is perceived as a threat. When people lack direct contact with migrants, they are more susceptible to believing exaggerated or fabricated stories, especially when those stories are repeated across media platforms and political events.

Research supports this dynamic. Studies show that individuals with little personal interaction with immigrants are more likely to hold negative perceptions, particularly when exposed to repeated negative messaging. Conversely, those who engage with migrant communities often develop more nuanced and empathetic views. The absence of what some call a ‘theology of proximity’—the practice of building relationships with marginalised groups—allows stereotypes to persist unchallenged. In this context, truth becomes secondary to emotional resonance, and fear becomes a tool for mobilisation.

Faith Communities as Counternarratives

In contrast to divisive rhetoric, many faith-based organisations are actively welcoming migrants and refugees, grounding their actions in religious teachings. One frequently cited passage is Matthew 25:35–40, in which Jesus describes welcoming the stranger as equivalent to welcoming him. For many Christians, this scripture forms the basis of a moral obligation to support those fleeing hardship, regardless of origin or documentation status.

A recent visit to a community centre in Tucson, Arizona, illustrated this principle in action. There, volunteers provide food, shelter, legal assistance, and emotional support to asylum seekers who have endured perilous journeys marked by exploitation, violence, and loss. The centre operates as a place of welcome and dignity, where families receive help rebuilding their lives. Such efforts are not isolated; similar initiatives exist across the United States, often led by congregations that view migrant support as an expression of faith rather than a political stance.

Equally significant are the stories of those who have faced legal consequences for their humanitarian work. Retired pastor John Fife, for example, spoke publicly about being charged with felonies for assisting migrants crossing the border—a ministry he carried out for decades. His testimony, shared at a gathering in Southside Presbyterian Church, underscored the tension between humanitarian action and restrictive immigration laws. For Fife and others like him, following their faith meant accepting personal risk to uphold what they believe is a divine mandate to care for the vulnerable.

The Role of Data and Personal Encounter

Beyond faith and morality, empirical evidence challenges the core of anti-immigrant myths. Data consistently shows that immigrants, including those without documentation, commit crimes at lower rates than native-born citizens. They are also less likely to be incarcerated. Despite this, the myth of the ‘criminal immigrant’ endures in political discourse, often detached from statistical reality.

Personal encounter remains one of the most effective antidotes to prejudice. When individuals meet migrants, hear their stories, and witness their resilience, abstract stereotypes begin to dissolve. This principle applies across cultural and religious lines: knowing someone personally makes it harder to dehumanise them. Faith leaders and community organisers often emphasise that transformation begins not with debate, but with relationship—shared meals, conversations, and mutual recognition of common humanity.

Implications for Public Discourse

The persistence of false claims about immigrants raises broader questions about the health of democratic discourse. When falsehoods are repeated without consequence, they can erode public trust in institutions, distort policy debates, and deepen social divisions. Addressing this requires more than fact-checking; it demands a commitment to media literacy, critical thinking, and the amplification of underrepresented voices.

For businesses, educators, and civic leaders, the lesson is clear: fostering environments where diverse stories are heard and valued can counteract polarising narratives. Workplace inclusion programmes, community dialogues, and educational curricula that highlight migrant contributions help build resilience against misinformation. In markets where consumer trust is paramount, brands that demonstrate authentic engagement with diverse communities often gain long-term loyalty and reputational strength.

What this means

The spectacle of a political figure claiming that immigrants are eating pets may capture headlines, but its true significance lies in what it reveals about the mechanics of modern political communication. By focusing on the groups most frequently targeted by falsehoods—migrants, refugees, and asylum seekers—we gain insight into the strategies used to mobilise fear and consolidate power. Yet alongside these troubling patterns, there are enduring examples of resistance: faith communities offering sanctuary, individuals risking liberty to uphold humanitarian values, and everyday encounters that transform suspicion into solidarity. In an age of information overload, the most potent antidote to deception may not be more data, but deeper connection. As societies navigate complex challenges around migration, identity, and belonging, choosing proximity over prejudice remains not only a moral imperative but a practical path toward greater understanding and cohesion.