President Trump's tariff gun may be loaded, but he's not likely to pull the trigger unless there's a spotlight bright enough to catch the world's attention—it's all about the show, not the execution.
They
say when a hammer sees everything as a nail, it keeps pounding until it learns
otherwise. President-elect Donald Trump, in his campaign and beyond, has often
boasted that he is the king of tariffs. He wields his tariff gun like it's an
old Western standoff. The world watches as he steps into the dusty main street,
confident, a gleaming holster strapped to his hip, ready to bring back
America's lost "glory" through tariffs. But hold up—is this gun even
going to fire? Or are we simply witnessing the bravado of a man who loves the
noise of promises more than their implementation?
Trump's
rhetoric is loaded with threats—from tariffs against China, Mexico, and even
European Union allies. And it's true that during his first term, his
administration aggressively deployed tariffs against major trade partners. In
2018, the U.S. slapped a 25% tariff on $50 billion worth of Chinese goods,
ultimately escalating into a trade war that saw tariffs on $360 billion worth
of Chinese products by 2019. There was much fuss, much ado about reclaiming
American manufacturing and jobs. But at what cost? As much as Trump would like
to be seen as the fearless hero battling unfair trade, the real story is much
more complicated and muddled with the consequences of his half-fired bullets.
Let's
face it—Trump’s tariffs did shake the global market. The Dow Jones dipped,
supply chains were snarled, and Americans experienced rising prices for
consumer goods from washing machines to sneakers. When President Trump drew his
tariff gun and pointed it at China, he pulled the trigger—but the recoil
affected the U.S. economy as much as it did China's. It’s the classic scenario
of shooting yourself in the foot while aiming for the other guy. For example,
an analysis by the Federal Reserve found that the tariffs led to a 0.3
percentage point drop in U.S. GDP, which might not seem huge until you remember
that's billions of dollars vanishing into thin air. American farmers, too, bore
the brunt. Struggling soybean farmers had to be bailed out to the tune of $28
billion. It's funny how easy it is to shout "America First!" until
you realize tariffs are cutting deep into American industries and leaving those
meant to be helped standing in the cold.
But
let's talk about why this loaded tariff gun might barely be discharged in
Trump's upcoming term—if it even fires at all. First, there’s Congress. Though
Trump often postures as a lone cowboy, tariffs require cooperation and,
sometimes, the approval of Congress. Trump's previous moves invoked Section 232
of the Trade Expansion Act of 1962, allowing him to declare imported steel and
aluminum a national security threat and, therefore, impose tariffs without
Congressional approval. Yet, as the smoke clears, the impact becomes clear
too—trade wars cannot be won without allies. President Trump learned it the
hard way. After a bruising fight with China, and a trade deficit that stayed
high regardless of his actions, many lawmakers, even among Republicans, began
to sour on the tariff approach.
Then
there is the impact of public sentiment and political landscape shifts. 2024 is
not 2018. The American public has gotten wiser to the unintended fallout from
Trump's tariffs—from the higher cost of consumer products to disruptions in
industries that once supported his rhetoric. If there is anything American
voters hate, it is having to pay more out of their pockets while being told
they’re benefiting. Recent surveys suggest a lack of appetite for another trade
war with China or any other country. Voters may be inclined toward slogans, but
empty shelves and pricier goods tend to have a sobering effect on enthusiasm.
The same Midwest farmers who cheered for Trump in 2016 eventually saw the
strain tariffs put on their livelihoods, resulting in significant backlash.
Trump may find that this time around, farmers are less willing to be foot
soldiers in his trade war skirmishes.
Moreover,
the global economic climate is also vastly different. Unlike his first term,
Trump will be navigating a post-pandemic economy—one that is already teetering
on fragile supply chains, rising inflation, and a general exhaustion from
constant disruptions. The U.S. economy is like a wounded horse; applying more
tariffs would be akin to demanding that horse run faster with additional
weights strapped to its back. Even the bravest cowboy knows when his horse
needs rest rather than another whipping. International allies, weary from the
rollercoaster ride of Trump's first term, are less willing to put up with
sudden and unilateral decisions. Countries like Canada, Mexico, and Germany
have all signaled, either explicitly or implicitly, their fatigue with Trump's
antics and are ready to push back. The European Union is also standing firmer
now, with a collective economic strength that has grown in response to external
threats.
But
perhaps most significantly, Trump's style of governance is more about the deal
than about sustained economic policy. He likes big announcements—statements
that echo, impress, and spark debates. His tariff gun is not for long-haul
fights; it's for loud bangs that can fill a headline. Remember his 2019
announcement of tariffs against Mexico, supposedly to force them to stop
migrants? The tariffs were announced and subsequently put on hold indefinitely,
traded in for some vague promises of border cooperation. This kind of
brinkmanship is less about resolving issues and more about drawing the crowd's
attention—like a gunslinger firing into the air to stop the town's daily bustle
just to make a proclamation. Trump's ego thrives on immediate responses, immediate
bows to his will, which is why his threats rarely see prolonged enforcement. He
gets bored of the fight once the initial thrill fades, and his gun returns to
its holster, half-loaded, while the crowd is left wondering what that was all
about.
The
reality of global trade is that it is a delicate dance of interdependence, not
a brawl where one person gets to leave the saloon victorious. American
companies rely heavily on foreign parts and supplies, and tariffs often
backfire, punishing the very people they aim to protect. Despite Trump's
boisterous claims, the trade deficit with China, which he vowed to eliminate,
actually widened during his first term. Tariffs didn’t drive manufacturing back
to U.S. soil as he predicted—instead, companies either absorbed costs, raised
prices for American consumers, or found ways around the system, such as moving
operations to other low-cost nations like Vietnam. As much as Trump fans the
flames of bringing jobs back, the logistics of reversing globalization simply
don't align with reality.
The
real question now is: Will Trump even attempt to reload the tariff gun in his
second term? Or is he simply using it as a stage prop, ready to draw when he
needs a rise in the polls but ultimately more bark than bite? His economic
advisors—who famously clashed over the impact of tariffs in the first term—may
have some say in the matter, but one thing seems certain: Trump's tariff gun
will definitely be loaded. However, whether he pulls the trigger again or just
flashes the weapon for dramatic effect remains to be seen. Like a magician with
a misfiring trick, he may keep the audience anticipating an act that never
quite lives up to its promise.
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