Folk legend Art Garfunkel told a British newspaper he is "thinking of leaving the country" because he objects to President Trump's leadership, joining a long line of celebrities who threaten to go but never quite pack a bag.
Garfunkel, half of the iconic duo Simon & Garfunkel and the voice behind "The Sound of Silence," made the remarks in a wide-ranging interview with The Guardian published in early September. The 84-year-old singer, who turns 85 in November, said he opposes "America's position" broadly and floated the idea of decamping from the country he has spent decades crisscrossing on foot.
His complaints ranged from climate policy to U.S. actions in Venezuela, and he wrapped them in the kind of vague moral distress that has become a staple of celebrity political commentary, long on feeling, short on specifics, and entirely free of any announced moving date.
Asked about global issues and those in power, Garfunkel told The Guardian:
"I don't like America's position at all. I'm not aboard, and I'm thinking of leaving the country, frankly."
He went on to cite rising temperatures and global hunger as evidence that the country is headed the wrong direction.
"It's real that the planet is getting warmer, that the water's rising, that so many people are starving."
Then he turned to Venezuela. About eight months before the interview, President Trump announced that U.S. forces had captured Venezuelan strongman Nicolás Maduro and flown him to the United States to face federal charges. Garfunkel characterized the operation in sweeping terms.
"When Donald Trump took over Venezuela, are those the new rules? Just take over a country and run it?"
That framing leaves out some relevant context. Maduro had faced federal charges in the United States, and U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright traveled to Caracas just weeks before the interview to finalize what officials described as a historic oil deal between the two countries. Whatever one thinks of the policy, "just take over a country" is a characterization, not a description of what happened.
Garfunkel conceded that the political moment would pass. "But Trump won't last forever. So we've got to hope," he said.
For all the talk of departure, Garfunkel offered no timeline and no destination. His vision of life abroad sounded less like political exile and more like a concert itinerary.
"Sail around the world, see India and China, sing in South America."
He did draw one line: "I don't wanna go into space."
Garfunkel has spent years taking long-distance walks across the United States, Japan, and Europe, a hobby that suggests a man who enjoys leaving home but keeps coming back. The Guardian interview was tied to his "What a Wonderful World" tour, which means the singer who says he might leave America is, at the moment, touring it.
He also offered a self-portrait that had little to do with politics. "I hope I come across as philosophical," he said. "I'm a thinker, a book reader, a walker, but mostly I'm a singer." He described his pre-show nerves, "I'm always very nervous, behind the curtain", and the rush that follows: "Then I walk out and hear the applause and I flip from fear to confidence right there."
None of that sounds like a man on the verge of renouncing his citizenship. It sounds like an 84-year-old performer promoting a tour and sharing opinions he knows will earn friendly coverage in a sympathetic British outlet.
Garfunkel joins a roster of entertainers who have publicly mused about leaving the United States when a Republican occupies the White House. The list stretches back decades. The number who actually followed through remains, as always, vanishingly small.
The pattern is familiar enough to qualify as its own genre: a famous person expresses horror at the political direction of the country, names a preferred destination or simply gestures at "abroad," collects approving headlines, and then stays put. The threat functions as a political statement, not a travel plan. Garfunkel's version fits the template precisely, right down to the admission that "Trump won't last forever," which rather undercuts the urgency of packing.
It is worth noting that prominent figures on the left have spent the past year finding various ways to distance themselves from or disparage the country they claim to love. The impulse to run from a democratic outcome you dislike, rather than persuade your fellow citizens, says more about the person than the president.
Meanwhile, the political tensions that drive these gestures have produced far darker expressions. Threatening messages carved into the National Mall near the White House remind Americans that anti-administration hostility sometimes goes well beyond celebrity interviews.
And the left's broader track record of dramatic political gestures has not exactly inspired confidence. Alex Vindman burned through $16 million in a Florida Senate primary only to lose, a reminder that grand stands and large sums do not automatically translate into results.
Garfunkel's interview contains no indication he has researched immigration requirements in another country, contacted a real estate agent abroad, or taken any concrete step toward departure. He named no destination. He set no date. He acknowledged the current political moment will end on its own.
What he did do is give a quote that created headlines, which, for a performer promoting an international tour, is the whole point. The interview served its purpose the moment it was published.
Millions of Americans who disagree with their government manage to stay, vote, and make their case without threatening to leave. That used to be called citizenship. For a certain class of celebrity, it apparently feels insufficient.