What happened to Trump’s ‘big, beautiful’ wall?
They are now painting the border wall black.
Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem recently announced that, at President Trump’s request, the steel fence along our southern border will be coated in dark paint so it heats under the sun and becomes harder to climb.
But isn’t that like decorating the house before you’ve built the roof?
This structure, once Trump’s rallying cry, has been lost in all the noise of his second term. I had nearly forgotten it myself, until I saw pictures of men with paint rollers freshening up the unfinished monument.
The image is striking: darkened to intimidate, a monument less to function than to appearance. It is a perfect metaphor for Trump’s presidency.
Trump promised a “big, beautiful wall” stretching along the 1,954 miles of the southern U.S. border, which he once claimed Mexico would pay for. What he delivered in his first term was about 450 miles of fencing, the majority of it replacing existing structures. The vision of a continuous wall was never realized.
This wasn’t for lack of trying, his defenders say. Democrats in Congress refused to hand over tens of billions for construction. In 2019, Trump’s demand for funding sparked the longest government shutdown in U.S. history
When he declared a national emergency to redirect military money, lawsuits followed. Landowners in Texas filed court cases over eminent domain, further bogging the project down.
Trump’s allies argue this proves he was sabotaged by the system. But obstacles are not an excuse. Governing means anticipating resistance and navigating it. A leader who makes a promise is responsible for results, not explanations.
Even if Democrats did slow him down, Trump’s own camp eroded the project from within. The nonprofit We Build the Wall, which raised $25 million from loyal supporters, collapsed when its leaders, including Steve Bannon, were indicted for allegedly siphoning money toward yachts and luxury goods.
One company Trump personally pushed for, Fisher Sand and Gravel, landed a $400 million contract despite warnings about its track record. Its sections of a privately built soon showed erosion and structural problems.
And Fisher wasn’t the only flaw. Costs ballooned across the board, with the CATO Institute estimating them at $24.4 million per mile — 41 percent above the Department of Homeland Security’s original projections.
The result is a half-finished wall that perfectly symbolizes Trump’s tenure: loud, polarizing, and poorly executed in the end.
This is the political genius of Trump and also his greatest weakness. He lights so many fires at once that it becomes nearly impossible to track them all. For a campaigner, that creates constant motion, endless headlines and the feeling of momentum. For a president, it guarantees that nothing is ever fully completed.
Trump has mastered the art of lighting fires, but he never learned how to put one out.
The wall also reveals a deeper truth about Washington itself. There’s an old saying: You don’t change Washington, Washington changes you. Trump promised to drain the swamp, but rather than cleanse it, he adapted to it. Lobbyists and insiders fill his administration. His family businesses profited from access. Scandals swirled, and instead of dismantling the swamp, he learned how to swim in it.
But he is hardly unique in that regard — American politics is littered with grand promises that collapse in practice.
George W. Bush declared victory in Iraq, only for the war to spiral into years of chaos. Barack Obama promised to transcend partisanship, but Washington grew more polarized under his tenure. Joe Biden vowed to end the division and dysfunction in D.C., yet gridlock persists.
Every president faces resistance. Trump made it his method. Where others stumbled, he thrived, turning failure into fuel, convincing supporters that being blocked was proof he was on their side.
That is the danger of cultish loyalty to any politician. We treat them as saviors, as if one person can solve generational problems through force of will. In so doing, we lower the standard of accountability. If they fail, we accept excuses. Our faith in them becomes the very shield that protects them from being judged by real outcomes.
The lesson of the wall isn’t about Trump alone. It’s about us. We have grown too comfortable applauding intention instead of execution. Leaders thrive when citizens stop asking whether they kept their word and start asking whether anything got done. If we don’t raise that standard, the next promise — whether physical, economic or social — will be just as hollow.
Until then, we’ll keep applauding politicians for putting lipstick on a pig — dressing up waste and mistaking pork for progress.
Corey Kvasnick is an entrepreneur, investor, philanthropist and a contributor to Common Ground Thinking.