The Tariffarchy: Trump’s Latest American Masterstroke

(Krotchett.com) It takes a certain kind of genius to convince a nation that a self-inflicted tarriff wound is actually a brilliant strategy. Donald Trump, a man who has rebranded bankruptcy as “winning,” has now introduced the world to the marvel of his new tariff strategy. The premise is simple: slap tariffs on imports to “punish” foreign governments, and watch as the American economy soars. Except, of course, it doesn’t—because foreign governments don’t pay the tariffs. You do.

Let’s break this down in terms even Trump himself might misunderstand. A tariff is essentially a tax on imported goods. The tax is paid by the importer—typically an American company—which then passes that cost down the line to wholesalers, retailers, and, ultimately, consumers. That’s right: when you’re shelling out an extra 20% for that washing machine or paying more for your avocado toast, it’s not because Mexico or China sent the White House an angry check. It’s because the American government decided to tax itself and call it a punishment for foreigners.

So, where does all this tariff money go? Here’s the fun part. It doesn’t just vanish into a void of government programs or taxpayer rebates. No, that would be far too mundane. Instead, under the Trump administration, this money flows into the pockets of a government now packed to the brim with Trump-appointed businessmen. Imagine an oligarchy but with tariffs—a Tariffarchy, if you will.

In this brave new Tariffarchy, billions of dollars collected from American consumers now sit in a discretionary pot controlled by officials who owe their appointments not to merit, but to their ability to keep a straight face while calling Trump a stable genius. These are the same officials who can now decide how to distribute those funds—whether to subsidize certain industries, bail out struggling businesses, or simply pad the federal coffers for future adventures in economic self-sabotage. The possibilities are endless when you’re playing with other people’s money.

Take, for example, the agriculture bailouts—a $28 billion Band-Aid slapped on farmers left reeling from retaliatory tariffs by China and the EU. That money didn’t appear out of thin air; it was siphoned directly from the pockets of consumers paying more for goods across the board. Essentially, the administration has created a feedback loop where they tax you more, hurt key sectors of the economy, and then swoop in as the heroes handing out checks—checks funded by your own inflated grocery bill.

And who’s ensuring that this money is distributed fairly? Why, the same cadre of Trump loyalists who have turned the federal government into their personal clubhouse. These are individuals whose qualifications often start and end with the phrase “I’ve stayed at a Trump hotel.” The conflict of interest isn’t a bug; it’s a feature. The Tariffarchy thrives on opacity and cronyism, a system where the people’s money is rebranded as the government’s money, then redistributed to the “right” people under the guise of economic patriotism.

So, what’s the endgame here? Does Trump genuinely believe this is good policy, or is it yet another exercise in branding over substance? Perhaps it’s both. After all, the man has built an empire—and a presidency—on the principle that if you shout “winning” loud enough, people might forget to check the scoreboard.

The beauty of the Tariffarchy lies in its self-sustaining brilliance. It taxes the American people to fund a government that enriches Trump’s cronies, all while convincing his base that the pain they’re feeling is actually a sign of progress. It’s not just economic policy; it’s performance art.

And if you find yourself questioning the logic of it all, just remember: in the Tariffarchy, the only thing that matters is who controls the narrative. And as long as Trump can tweet in all caps, the narrative is his to lose.