Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Donald Trump has always operated less like a statesman and more like a traveling carnival barker, peddling snake oil to anyone desperate enough to believe. His favorite bottle of tonic? Tariffs. He sold them as a miracle cure for America’s ailments: jobs would return, factories would roar, deficits would vanish, and China would foot the bill. In reality, it was the oldest con in the book—distract the crowd with big talk, pick their pockets, and disappear before they realize the trick.

Tariffs, in Trump’s mythology, were a weapon America could wield without cost. He claimed foreign governments were the ones paying. To his base, it sounded like easy money—Uncle Sam shaking down the world. But the truth is simple: tariffs are taxes on Americans. Importers pay them at the border, businesses absorb them reluctantly, and then consumers pay higher prices. Every extra dollar at the checkout line was not a tribute from Beijing—it was a tax from Trump. He promised a fat check from China, but all you got was a thinner wallet.

And what about those “sacred” industries he swore to protect? Steelmakers got a short-lived boost, but automakers and construction firms—who actually use steel—saw costs skyrocket. Farmers were gutted when China retaliated, markets for soybeans and pork evaporating overnight. Trump’s fix? Multi-billion-dollar bailouts, taxpayer-funded hush money to keep rural America from revolting. He created the wound and then bragged about handing out Band-Aids. It wasn’t economic policy—it was extortion disguised as patriotism.

Meanwhile, the trade deficit—the very dragon he promised to slay—grew larger. Supply chains didn’t come home; they simply rerouted to Vietnam, Mexico, and anywhere outside the tariff blast radius. Globalization didn’t die because Trump puffed his chest; it just learned to step around him. American workers weren’t showered in jobs; they were saddled with higher costs while their industries scrambled to adapt.

Businesses, investors, and families all paid for his con. Markets lurched at every late-night tweet, as corporations tried to guess whether Trump’s threats were real policy or just another tantrum. Investment slowed, hiring stalled, and uncertainty reigned. For all his talk of being a businessman, he introduced the one thing markets fear most: chaos.

The cruelty of Trump’s tariff con is that it preyed on patriotism. He wrapped a tax hike in the flag and called it strength. When families paid more at the store, they weren’t victims of bad policy—they were “fighting China.” When farmers lost their livelihoods, they weren’t casualties of incompetence—they were “heroes in a trade war.” Every failure was rebranded as sacrifice, every cost reframed as victory. It was less economics than propaganda, a shell game dressed in red, white, and blue.

Trump promised tariffs would make America rich. Instead, they made life more expensive, businesses more anxious, and the country more divided. Like any good con artist, he cashed out on applause while leaving others holding the bill. The magic never worked, the wealth never came, and the only thing that grew was the debt—financial and moral—that America is still paying.