“I have a chronic, incurable trade deficit with my barber,” prominent Washington Post columnist George Will told HBO’s Real Time with Bill Maher last week. “Once a month … I buy a haircut from her; she buys nothing from me. She has a trade deficit with Iowa because she buys corn products and pork. And no Iowan ever comes to Washington to get a haircut. Amazingly, it works — somehow!”
Nothing captures US President Donald Trump’s approach to trade better than Will’s quip, delivered with his trademark dry wit. Will, a stalwart of classic conservative thought, grasps a truth the current administration seems determined to ignore: Trade is not a zero-sum game. For centuries, individuals, cities, and nations have prospered not by balancing every ledger entry to the penny, but by engaging in voluntary exchanges that benefit both parties.
Trump’s unapologetically mercantile view of trade and foreign relations turns every economic relationship into a scoreboard. Whether it’s imposing a 25% tariff on Indian goods — followed by an additional levy linked to New Delhi’s purchase of Russian oil — or threatening Nato allies over defence spending, his policies reduce complex alliances to crude profit-and-loss statements.
The consequences go far beyond economics. The US did not ascend to global preeminence by browbeating partners over trade balances when it emerged as a global leader after the end of World War II; it did that by cultivating relationships and influence through alliances, cultural diplomacy, and a rules-based order that reassured friends and allies they could trust Washington’s commitments. From the Marshall Plan to Nato to the Fulbright Program, American leadership has been rooted in building confidence, not collecting payments.
In Trump’s worldview, allies are “freeloaders” unless they meet his transactional benchmarks, and trade deficits are inherently bad, regardless of whether they reflect healthy economic specialisation. This ignores basic economic reality: Just as Will’s barber thrives without selling haircuts in Iowa, the US benefits from importing goods it cannot produce effectively or efficiently, while exporting its strengths in technology, services, and innovation. The danger is that when alliances are treated as little more than business contracts, partners start looking elsewhere for stability. They diversify trade relationships, hedge their strategic bets, and deepen ties with rival powers willing to offer steadier terms.
India provides a powerful example of that.
New Delhi is not just another trading partner. Over the past two decades, successive administrations in Washington — Republican and Democratic alike — have recognised the country as central to America’s Indo-Pacific strategy. That vision has included defence cooperation, joint military exercises, and growing partnerships in technology, energy, and counterterrorism, all designed to position India as a counterweight to China.
By slapping tariffs on Indian goods and tying penalties to its Russian oil purchases, Trump signals that strategic alignment is subordinate to short-term transactional disputes. Even more damaging is the hint that his administration could target H-1B and L-1 visa programmes, which are critical pathways for tens of thousands of highly skilled Indian professionals who help drive US innovation, especially in the tech sector.
Such a move would not only hurt American competitiveness but also erode goodwill in a country whose young, English-speaking workforce is considered an asset in countering China’s rise.
If New Delhi begins to question Washington’s reliability — and many Indians already have — it has alternatives: Deeper engagement with Asean, expanded trade with the European Union and Gulf States, or closer ties with Brics partners. Losing India’s trust would cost the US more than export revenue; it would weaken the entire Indo-Pacific strategy.
Unfortunately, signs of a pivot are already visible. Following Trump’s tariff announcements, India’s diplomatic calendar lit up. Prime Minister Narendra Modi scheduled his first visit to China in more than seven years to attend the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit later this month. He also held back-to-back calls with Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Russian President Vladimir Putin, both vocal critics of Trump’s tariffs.
These moves are not subtle. They are a clear message to Washington that pressure tactics will not work. As the US publication Axios observed, the 50% tariffs “were officially designed to drive a wedge between India and Russia, but so far the only rupture they’ve caused is with the United States”. Not only will India continue buying Russian oil, Axios pointed out, but it has “frozen plans to purchase arms from the US and canceled a high-level defence visit to Washington.”
Trump’s mercantile instincts may satisfy a domestic political base that equates toughness with tariffs. But internationally, they risk undermining the very alliances and partnerships that have underpinned America’s global leadership for generations. If the administration persists in treating friends like competitors, the US may find that when it needs those friends most, they have already found other friends.
History shows that nations that have attempted to dominate solely through transactional leverage often paid a price. Britain’s mercantile empire in the 18th century collapsed in part because it treated colonies and partners as revenue streams rather than stakeholders. Similarly, interwar US policy, which relied on tariffs such as the Smoot-Hawley Act of 1930 to “protect” domestic industry, deepened the Great Depression and alienated trading partners, contributing to the economic instability prior to World War II.
On the other hand, the US’s greatest strategic successes have come when it invested in partners without expecting immediate returns. The Marshall Plan rebuilt Europe not because it turned a profit in 1948 but because it secured a continent aligned with American values for decades. Cultural exchange programmes, immigration pathways for skilled workers, and cooperative defence pacts have been far more effective at cementing influence than any tariff ever could. A mercantile trade and foreign policy may deliver short-term political or economic wins, but it will not sustain America’s global role. If Washington continues to trade away trust for transactional gains, it risks becoming just another player in a crowded field of powers, without the credibility, goodwill, or strategic depth that once set it apart.