Donald Trump’s political rise was built on a rare instinct: the ability to sense a crowd’s mood and change direction before the moment slipped away.

He could test a line, watch the audience and adjust in real time. If supporters cheered, he pushed harder. If they turned against him, he retreated, changed the subject and moved on as though nothing had happened.

But according to his niece Mary Trump, that vital skill is fading—and its disappearance may represent something far more serious than a pair of unsuccessful speeches.

“Donald did have the ability to read the room better,” Mary Trump said during an episode of the Fast Politics podcast. “He was good at pushing the envelope in ways and then recalibrate in real time.”

Mary Trump, a psychologist and longtime critic of her uncle, argued that the president’s recent behavior suggests he is losing the impulse control that once allowed him to recover from political mistakes.

Her comments followed Trump’s widely criticized appearances at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner and the funeral of Sen. Lindsey Graham, two occasions where observers said he appeared unable—or unwilling—to adapt when his remarks were poorly received.

At the correspondents’ dinner, Trump delivered an hour-long address filled with personal insults and jokes that frequently drew silence. Rather than shorten his remarks or shift his tone, he criticized the prepared speech, questioned who had written it and continued.

Podcast host Molly Jong-Fast said Trump “really bombed” but never successfully recalibrated.

The following week, Trump veered away from his prepared tribute to Graham during the late senator’s funeral. When the text declared that “virtually everyone” liked Graham, Trump interrupted himself to dispute it.

“Well, not everybody,” Trump said. “But it sounds good. I have to be honest.”

The moment drew criticism because it appeared unnecessarily argumentative during a memorial service honoring one of his closest political allies.

Jong-Fast asked whether Trump had lost the ability to understand what a moment required.

“Did he used to be able to not say the quiet part out loud?” she asked.

Mary Trump answered by recalling an incident from the COVID-19 era. Shortly after vaccines became available, Trump spoke positively about them during one of his rallies. Some supporters booed.

Trump immediately recognized the hostility, she said, and largely stopped highlighting the issue at later events.

“He was speaking positively about the vaccine, and he got booed,” Mary Trump recalled. “And we never heard him say that again.”

That incident demonstrated the political reflex she believes her uncle once possessed. His retreat was not necessarily a change of conviction. It was a strategic response from a performer who understood that continuing would alienate his audience.

“Now we’re seeing that he does not have the ability to do that,” she argued. “What that means is he’s losing impulse control.”

Mary Trump connected that alleged loss of control to what she described as her uncle’s broader “cognitive decline.”

That assessment should be treated cautiously. Mary Trump is a trained psychologist, but she is also an outspoken political opponent of the president, and the remarks provided do not establish that she has clinically evaluated him. Public speeches, awkward comments and poor performances alone cannot confirm a medical diagnosis.

The White House has not acknowledged that Trump is experiencing cognitive impairment. His allies routinely reject such allegations as partisan attacks and point to his demanding schedule, lengthy speeches and frequent public appearances as evidence of his fitness.

Still, questions about presidential health carry enormous public importance. Trump is 80 years old and holds a position requiring rapid judgment, emotional discipline and the ability to absorb complex information during crises.

The concern raised by Mary Trump is not merely that he tells unsuccessful jokes. It is that he may no longer recognize when his behavior is damaging him—or possess the restraint to stop.

For a president, that ability extends far beyond public speaking.

Reading a room matters in meetings with military advisers, foreign leaders and lawmakers. Recalibration can determine whether a negotiation succeeds, whether a confrontation escalates and whether a president accepts information that contradicts his assumptions.

Trump’s critics have recently pointed to other moments that intensified scrutiny. He appeared to close his eyes for extended periods during public events, unleashed an enormous burst of AI-generated posts on Truth Social and repeatedly drifted away from prepared remarks.

None of those incidents independently proves cognitive decline. Fatigue, personality, political strategy and numerous other factors can influence public behavior.

But taken together, they have created a growing narrative that Trump is changing—and that the political instincts that once protected him are becoming less reliable.

For years, Trump’s greatest talent was not restraint. It was knowing precisely how far he could go before pulling back.

Mary Trump’s warning is that he may no longer see that line.

And if the president cannot recognize when a room has turned against him, the consequences may eventually reach far beyond a failed joke or an uncomfortable silence.