On September 19, 2025, a Florida federal judge delivered a swift and stinging rebuke to President Donald Trump, dismissing his $15 billion defamation lawsuit against The New York Times. The ruling, handed down by U.S. District Judge Steven Merryday, marked the latest chapter in Trump’s ongoing legal battles with major media organizations, and it underscored the importance of legal precision—even for a sitting president determined to challenge the press.
Trump’s lawsuit, filed just four days prior to the dismissal, targeted a series of articles and a book published before the 2024 presidential election. The filings claimed that the reporting was part of a deliberate effort to undermine Trump’s reputation as a businessman and to damage his chances of returning to the White House. According to The New York Times, the complaint also alleged a “decades-long pattern” of malicious defamation, pointing to the 2024 book Lucky Loser and three related articles examining Trump’s business history and finances as central evidence.
But Judge Merryday was having none of it. In a sharply worded opinion, he wrote, “As every lawyer knows (or is presumed to know), a complaint is not a public forum for vituperation and invective. A complaint is not a megaphone for public relations or a podium for a passionate oration at a political rally or the functional equivalent of the Hyde Park Speakers’ Corner.” The judge described the 85-page complaint as “decidedly improper and impermissible,” noting that it was filled with “repetitive,” “florid,” and “superfluous” allegations, as well as laudatory statements about Trump—references to his “historic” election win and “singular brilliance”—and negative descriptions of the Times’ coverage, including calling it a “new journalistic low.”
According to BBC, Merryday emphasized that the complaint failed to meet the basic legal requirement for “short, plain, direct” claims. He criticized the filing for its “tedious and burdensome aggregation of prospective evidence” and “protracted recitation and explanation of legal authority,” which, he said, made it difficult to discern the actual basis of the claims. The judge was clear: the court’s ruling was solely about the format and content of the complaint—not the truth or falsity of the allegations themselves.
In a move that leaves the door open for further legal wrangling, Judge Merryday granted Trump’s legal team 28 days to refile a corrected version of the complaint, this time limited to 40 pages. The judge’s message was unmistakable: if Trump wishes to pursue his case, he must do so within the strict procedural boundaries of the law. “The proceedings must continue in a professional and dignified manner,” Merryday wrote, underscoring the expectation that future filings would dispense with grandstanding and focus on the legal merits.
The reaction from The New York Times was swift and pointed. A spokesperson for the newspaper welcomed the quick ruling, stating, “The complaint was recognized as a political document rather than a serious legal filing.” This sentiment echoed the judge’s own assessment and reflected the Times’ ongoing position that Trump’s legal actions are more about political theater than legitimate grievance. The Times had previously dismissed the lawsuit as lacking in merit and “any legitimate legal claims.”
Trump’s legal team, however, signaled no intention of backing down. In a statement, a spokesman said, “President Trump will continue to hold the Fake News accountable through this powerhouse lawsuit against the New York Times, its reporters, and Penguin Random House, in accordance with the judge’s direction on logistics.” Penguin Random House, the publisher of Lucky Loser, was also named as a defendant in the suit.
The case is just the latest in a string of legal actions Trump has launched against media organizations since returning to office in 2025. Earlier this year, he sued The Wall Street Journal and its parent company, Dow Jones, over coverage he called defamatory. In July, he announced a settlement with CBS, Paramount, and 60 Minutes. And more recently, Trump has suggested that television networks critical of him, including ABC and NBC, could have their broadcast licenses revoked—a move that has alarmed advocates of press freedom and prompted widespread debate about the boundaries of presidential power.
Critics have argued that Trump’s barrage of lawsuits is less about vindicating his reputation and more about distracting from negative news cycles and intimidating the press. On his MSNBC show, The Last Word, Lawrence O’Donnell described the suit as “the single most ridiculous lawsuit ever filed by the most ridiculous litigant in American political history.” O’Donnell suggested that Trump’s legal maneuvers often coincide with damaging headlines, such as ongoing controversy over unreleased Jeffrey Epstein files or recent investigative reporting by The New York Times on deals involving advanced AI chips sold to the United Arab Emirates and investments in Trump’s cryptocurrency startup, World Liberty Financial.
The Times’ article, published September 15, 2025, titled “Anatomy of Two Giant Deals: The U.A.E. Got Chips. The Trump Team Got Crypto Riches,” detailed how a $2 billion investment in World Liberty Financial, a cryptocurrency startup founded by the Trump family and Steve Witkoff, overlapped with the sale of advanced AI chips to the UAE. The report noted, “While there is no evidence that one deal was explicitly offered in return for the other, the confluence of the two agreements is itself extraordinary. Taken together, they blurred the lines between personal and government business and raised questions about whether U.S. interests were served.”
Meanwhile, Trump has continued to air his grievances with the media in public forums. After the ruling, he told reporters he was “winning” the case and lambasted major news networks for what he called biased and “illegal” coverage. When pressed by ABC News reporter Jonathan Karl, Trump called him “a terrible reporter” and doubled down on his criticism of the press. He also referenced voter support in certain counties to bolster his claims of popularity, despite what he sees as overwhelmingly negative coverage.
The legal saga comes at a time when Trump’s administration is facing scrutiny on several fronts. FBI Director Kash Patel was grilled in a Senate hearing on September 16, 2025, about the agency’s handling of Jeffrey Epstein files—a matter that has dogged Trump’s second term and drawn frustration from lawmakers and the public alike. During a press conference before a state visit to the United Kingdom, Australian Broadcasting Corporation reporter John Lyons questioned Trump about his business activities while in office. Trump responded that his children were running the businesses and, in a pointed remark, suggested that Australia should “get along” with him, hinting at diplomatic consequences for critical coverage.
As the dust settles on the initial dismissal, one thing is clear: the intersection of politics, media, and the law remains as contentious as ever. Trump’s willingness to go to court against the press, and the judiciary’s insistence on proper legal procedure, have set the stage for a high-profile battle over the limits of presidential power and the role of a free press in American democracy. Whether Trump’s legal team can craft a complaint that survives judicial scrutiny remains to be seen—but for now, the message from Judge Merryday is unmistakable: the courtroom is no place for political grandstanding.
