I never thought I would be comparing our 45th president to the country's 40th. But Donald Trump does share something important with Ronald Reagan.

People my age remember Reagan as the Teflon president. The reason was that his charm and glibness enabled him to fend off mistakes and criticism, so much so that few of the barbs or accusations against him seemed to “stick,” just as nothing sticks to the bottom of a Teflon frying pan.

In just one example, when the nation was struggling with a poor economy in the early '80s, ABC journalist Sam Donaldson thought he had him on the hot seat: “Mr. President, in talking about the continuing recession tonight, you have blamed mistakes in the past. You have blamed the Congress. Does any of the blame belong to you?”

“Yes,” Reagan answered, “because for many years I was a Democrat!”

Similarly, as we have seen with Trump, neither his falsehoods, scandals, flip-flops, nor policy about-faces seem to have much of an effect on his own popularity, at least with his base.

Throughout his election campaign, when over 80 percent of Trump's statements were labeled false by Politi-fact, it didn't matter to supporters who continued to stand by him.

Even the infamous three minute recording of Trump boasting about how his stardom gave him license to grab women's private parts did not stick detrimentally, as he went on to win the election after the type of scandal that would have caused any other candidate to drop not only out of the race, but off the face of the earth. Just ask Gary Hart.

So, how has Trump managed to emerge from all the mud in his ascension to the presidency?

Unlike Reagan, he has not succeeded because of his wit. He is not articulate, nor quick on his feet. Who could forget his cringe-worthy rebuttal when Hillary Clinton suggested in a debate that he was Vladimir Putin's puppet: “No, you're the puppet.”

And his generalizations (“...we're going to grow the economy so much.”) and vitriol toward the media, are the antithesis of the style of Reagan, a.k.a. The Great Communicator.

But what won Trump the presidency was a huge block of voters who chose him primarily because he reminded them of themselves. His winning strategy was to echo the thoughts and feelings that he rightfully suspected were simmering inside his constituents' hearts — resentment against government, immigrants, African-Americans, Hispanics, Muslims, academics, scientists and the media.

Finally, a like-minded presidential contender meant that their views were not just shameful manifestations of racism or lack of education. Trump made them legit.

A cartoon in a recent edition of the New Yorker captured this phenomenon with a drawing of a lone passenger standing up in the aisle of an airplane: “These smug pilots have lost touch with regular passengers like us. Who thinks I should fly the plane?”

In the drawing, all the passengers' hands are raised.

So, too, with Trump supporters, for whom it doesn't matter that he has never flown a jet. Doesn't matter if he decides to land somewhere else. Doesn't even matter if he turns over the controls to Mike Pence.

Therefore, Trump breaking his promise to deport 11 million immigrants does not stick, because as chief validator of their beliefs, he deserves loyalty, no matter what.

Trump University being exposed as a con job? Doesn't stick.

Bragging about sexual triumphs and assault? Doesn't stick.

The most recent step-back or lie that has taxpayers, and not Mexico, paying for the border wall? Doesn't stick.

In fact, because there are no negative consequences to what he said and did last year, last week, or yesterday, as far as his followers are concerned, Trump is proving to be more unaccountable than Reagan ever was.

David McGrath is English professor emeritus at College of DuPage.