For years, Stephen Colbert approached Donald J. Trump with a studied linguistic discipline. During Mr. Trump’s presidency, he was “President Trump.” After January 2021, he became “former President Donald Trump.” Each formulation was technically precise, deliberately restrained, and reflective of a long-standing norm in American political discourse: titles matter, and they signal legitimacy.

That discipline, however, evolved alongside Mr. Trump’s changing legal reality. By 2023, as indictments accumulated across multiple jurisdictions, Mr. Colbert introduced a new form of address on The Late Show: “Defendant Trump.” The term was neither joke nor insult. It was, as Mr. Colbert emphasized repeatedly, a matter of record. The studio audience reacted immediately, cheering each time the word was used. A pattern emerged, one that revealed the unusual power of factual language in a polarized media environment.

The word “defendant” carries legal weight but little rhetorical flourish. Its impact comes from precision. In courtrooms, it describes a status, not a judgment. On late-night television, however, its repetition functioned as a reminder that Mr. Trump was no longer defined solely by his political identity, but also by his entanglement with the criminal justice system. The applause that followed each usage suggested that viewers were responding not to satire, but to acknowledgment.

That dynamic intensified in May 2024, when a Manhattan jury found Mr. Trump guilty on 34 felony counts related to falsifying business records in a hush-money case. That evening, Mr. Colbert stepped onto his stage and used a new phrase: “convicted felon Donald Trump.” The reaction was immediate and sustained. The audience rose to its feet. Applause continued for nearly a minute. Mr. Colbert did not interrupt.

As with “defendant,” the phrase “convicted felon” was not invented for comedic effect. It reflected the outcome of a trial conducted under established legal procedures, culminating in a unanimous jury verdict. Its power lay precisely in its lack of embellishment. Unlike nicknames crafted for ridicule, this one could not be dismissed as exaggeration or bias. It was anchored in court records.

Late-night comedy has long served as a space for political commentary, but Mr. Colbert’s use of legal titles marked a subtle shift. Rather than framing Mr. Trump through metaphor or parody, he framed him through status. Each time the phrase was repeated, it reinforced a change that Mr. Trump himself has consistently resisted: the transition from political dominance to legal accountability.

The audience’s reaction offers insight into a broader cultural moment. For many viewers, the cheers did not reflect personal animosity so much as relief. After years in which Mr. Trump appeared insulated from consequences that might have ended other political careers, the conviction provided a concrete marker of accountability. The applause functioned less as celebration and more as recognition.

What made the phrase particularly resonant was its immunity to rhetorical counterattack. Mr. Trump has frequently dismissed criticism as “fake news” or partisan hostility. But a jury verdict, rendered after weeks of testimony and deliberation, does not lend itself easily to such framing. The label “convicted felon” does not argue. It states.

Mr. Colbert appeared to understand this distinction intuitively. He began to pace the phrase, pausing before it, allowing anticipation to build. The audience learned the rhythm. In time, the cheers arrived before the sentence was finished. The moment became ritualized, a call-and-response grounded not in comedy, but in confirmation.

The episode illustrates a broader truth about political language. The most effective reframing does not always come from creativity, but from clarity. Over the years, Mr. Colbert has delivered sharp monologues, elaborate sketches, and pointed satire aimed at Mr. Trump. Yet none matched the impact of two words drawn directly from the justice system.

In an era saturated with opinion, the appeal of unadorned fact has grown stronger. Titles once confined to legal documents migrated into popular culture, carrying with them the authority of institutions that remain, for many Americans, among the last arbiters of shared reality.

The cheers that greet Mr. Colbert’s phrasing are not merely about one man. They reflect a hunger for boundaries—for moments when status is defined not by volume or repetition, but by process. In that sense, the nickname’s power lies not in what it says about Donald Trump, but in what it signals about the public’s relationship to truth.

Sometimes, the most resonant words are the ones that do the least work.