Escaping the ‘China Dream’ (Hopefully)
Read full story at National Review →# Why This Matters
By October 2026, the trade war that started under Trump in 2018 and metastasized through two administrations had created a peculiar American problem: we'd built an entire industrial policy around punitive tariffs, but the tariffs weren't actually reshoring manufacturing at scale. Instead, companies had spent eight years optimizing supply chains around the tariff regime itself—moving production to Vietnam, Indonesia, and Mexico rather than to Ohio or South Carolina. The "China Dream" of decoupling the U.S. economy from Chinese manufacturing had become a mirage. American consumers were paying higher prices on everything from appliances to semiconductors, Chinese companies had diversified their customer base away from the U.S. market, and employment in American manufacturing had actually declined since 2018 despite the tariffs. The architecture of the punishment had failed.
What's actually at stake is whether the U.S. can construct a genuine alternative supply chain or whether it's simply going to maintain tariff walls indefinitely while pretending they're working. For manufacturers like those in automotive, electronics, and pharmaceuticals, this isn't abstract—they're making capital investment decisions that lock in supply relationships for the next decade. A company deciding whether to build a new semiconductor fab in Arizona needs to know if tariffs stay at current levels, drop to pre-2018 rates, or escalate further. For consumers, every quarter point increase in tariffs translates to real price increases at checkout. And for countries like Vietnam and Mexico, American tariff policy determines whether they become industrial powerhouses or remain low-wage assembly points.
The precedent cuts both ways. The Smoot-Hawley tariffs of 1930 famously backfired, tanking global trade and deepening the Depression—and economists point to that failure constantly. But the post-World War II rebuilding of Japan and South Korea happened partly through protected domestic markets and strategic tariffs, combined with actual investment in education and infrastructure. The difference was those countries used protection as a launching pad, not a permanent solution. They built comparative advantage. The U.S. tariff regime of 2018-2026 has done neither—it's maintained protection without the industrial policy infrastructure to make it matter.
The conservative argument here is straightforward and has merit: the China trade relationship was genuinely lopsided. China used forced technology transfer, state-owned enterprises with unlimited capital, and IP theft to build market share at American companies' expense. Some disruption was necessary. But eight years of tariffs without corresponding investment in American manufacturing capacity, worker training, or domestic R&D have simply proven that tariffs alone don't rebuild industries—they just raise prices and shuffle supply chains. If you wanted to reshore manufacturing, you needed to actually build factories and invest in workers, not just punish importers. The current policy looks like something designed to feel tough rather than something designed to work.
By late October 2026, Congress was beginning to circle back to the fundamentals: What does a workable decoupling strategy actually look like? There were serious proposals floating for direct subsidies to semiconductor manufacturing (following the CHIPS Act model), targeted tariffs on specific technologies where China had monopolies rather than blanket duties, and worker retraining programs. The real inflection point will come in the fourth quarter budget negotiations and the 2027 trade review, when policymakers have to either commit to actually building something or admit they've been running expensive theater for eight years. The market was already pricing in the possibility of tariff relief, and supply chains were beginning to shift again—betting on changes to come.