Trump’s War on the Calendar: Why Four Quarters Are Just Too Many for Capitalism to Handle

Once again Donald J. Trump has logged on to Truth Social, thumb trembling with the divine power of an unpaid intern, to announce that America no longer needs quarterly earnings reports. Semiannual will do just fine, thank you.

If this feels familiar, that’s because it is. Trump tried the same thing in 2018, after a CEO whispered in his ear that it might reduce compliance costs. He has now resurrected the idea, framing it as a noble crusade against paperwork, while supporters of market efficiency clutch their pearls like they’ve just been told the Dow Jones is actually run by lizard people.

But before we all roll our eyes and assume this is just another Trumpian brainwave filed next to “nuke the hurricanes,” let’s actually take it seriously. Because buried in this apparent calendrical coup is a real question: what happens to capitalism when transparency goes from quarterly to twice a year?


The 10-Q, That Pesky Thing Since 1970

Let’s start with the basics. Public companies have filed quarterly earnings reports—the SEC’s beloved Form 10-Q—since 1970 under Rule 13a-13. The idea was simple: every three months, companies must tell the world how much money they’re making, losing, or “adjusting.”

It’s not glamorous. Preparing a 10-Q takes, on average, about 180 hours. That’s 180 hours of accountants squinting at spreadsheets, lawyers flagging disclosures, and PR people trying to turn “massive losses” into “strategic repositioning.”

But investors like it, regulators depend on it, and journalists live for it. Quarterly reports are the biannual soap opera of capitalism, except they happen four times a year.


Trump’s Big Idea: Less is More (Unless It’s Debt)

Trump’s pitch is simple: why do this four times a year when two would suffice? He argues that quarterly filings promote “short-termism,” forcing CEOs to chase quick hits for Wall Street analysts rather than long-term strategy. It’s hard to think fifty years ahead when CNBC is screaming at you about last quarter’s missed earnings-per-share.

There’s also the compliance cost argument: 180 hours × four filings × thousands of companies = armies of overpaid lawyers billing by the six-minute increment. Trump frames this as government waste, which is ironic given that his favorite form of governance is basically a perpetual 10-Q of his own grievances.


The Long-Term Stock Exchange: Finally, a Fan Club

In Trump’s corner is the Long-Term Stock Exchange (LTSE), a niche player that has long argued that quarterly disclosure shackles innovation. They imagine a world where companies focus on decade-long visions—curing cancer, colonizing Mars, replacing coffee with algae smoothies—without having to pause every three months to explain why revenue was down 2%.

It’s a compelling narrative: free companies from the tyranny of quarters, and they’ll suddenly blossom into long-term thinkers. The problem? This assumes CEOs are philosopher-kings waiting to be unleashed, rather than short-sighted bonus-chasers who will happily hide bad news until it metastasizes.


Critics: Transparency Is Not Overrated

On the other side is the CFA Institute and nearly every investor who doesn’t already own a seat at Mar-a-Lago. Their argument: fewer filings mean less transparency, bigger information gaps, and a wider playground for insider trading.

Quarterly reports don’t just feed Wall Street—they protect Main Street. If you slash them, you give corporate executives a six-month blackout window to cook the books, bury scandals, or funnel more money into stock buybacks while ordinary investors sit in the dark.

Transparency may be annoying, but opacity is lethal. Just ask anyone who bought Enron at $90.


The Politicization of Disclosure

Here’s the real kicker: this isn’t a Congressional issue. Rule 13a-13 is under SEC jurisdiction. Any change would require a vote by the commissioners. But Trump knows that if you scream about it loudly enough, you can turn securities disclosure—a topic normally confined to white papers and insomnia cures—into a political wedge.

That’s the genius (or madness) of Trump. He takes dry administrative rules and weaponizes them. Suddenly, whether you want 10-Qs or 10-Ks twice a year becomes a litmus test of whether you support “free enterprise” or “deep state accountants.”

It’s disclosure as culture war, balance sheets as battlegrounds.


Even If It Passes, Companies Won’t Stop Talking

Here’s the dirty secret no one tells you: even if the SEC scraps mandatory quarterly filings, most companies will keep doing them anyway. Why? Because investors demand it. Analysts want it. Hedge funds will riot without it. If Apple or Amazon suddenly decided to only talk twice a year, their share price would get punished harder than a Starbucks barista spelling “Ashley” as “Ashleigh.”

So the most likely outcome is a two-tier world: companies technically freed from quarterly filings but still producing them voluntarily. Which means we’d have gone through this entire circus just to change the font size on a disclosure schedule.


The Winners and Losers of Semiannual Fantasyland

Winners:

  • CEOs who want six months to hide a disastrous product launch.
  • Lawyers who bill extra hours debating whether “optional” still means “necessary.”
  • Politicians who get to scream about “red tape” while secretly loving the chaos.

Losers:

  • Retail investors who rely on timely updates.
  • Journalists who will now have to write twice as many “off-cycle” stories about leaked numbers.
  • Anyone who mistakenly believes CEOs become saints when given more leeway.

The Irony of Timing

It’s also worth noting the timing. Trump is pushing this in the same season inflation numbers are sticky, jobless claims are spiking, and voters are asking whether his trade wars are inflating the cost of tomatoes. And his big solution? Change the filing calendar.

It’s like watching your house burn down and suggesting that the real problem is how often the fire department updates its reports.


Quarterly as Theater

The truth is, quarterly earnings have always been theater. CEOs stage-manage them like Broadway productions: dramatic reveals, adjusted metrics, cautious optimism. Analysts pretend to be surprised. Stocks whiplash for 48 hours before settling back into the same range.

Cutting them in half won’t reduce the theatrics. It’ll just make the shows longer, with bigger cliffhangers. Imagine waiting six months for Netflix to reveal they lost 3 million subscribers. It’s not strategy—it’s suspense porn for Wall Street.


What This Really Means

Trump’s push isn’t about policy—it’s about narrative. He wants to be the president who “frees business” from paperwork, even if the paperwork in question is literally the scaffolding of modern financial markets. He wants to stick it to regulators, to technocrats, to anyone who believes transparency is a public good.

But the irony is that markets thrive on information. Efficiency requires it. Accountability demands it. Disclosure is not government meddling—it’s the oxygen of capitalism. Take it away, and the only people breathing freely will be those who already own the ventilators.


Summary of Trump’s Disclosure Gambit

Donald Trump’s Truth Social post reviving his 2018 push to scrap mandatory quarterly earnings reports reignited a fight over transparency and short-termism. Quarterly Form 10-Qs, required since 1970 under Rule 13a-13, take ~180 hours each to prepare, but critics argue they are essential for investor confidence and market efficiency. Supporters like the Long-Term Stock Exchange say semiannual reporting would cut costs and encourage long-term thinking. The CFA Institute and others warn it would widen information gaps and enable abuse. Any change would require an SEC vote—not Congress—and even if rules shift, many companies will likely continue quarterly updates to appease investors. The battle reflects not just accounting but the politicization of disclosure, with markets caught between Trump’s war on bureaucracy and the basic need for sunlight.