Columnists
Fighting the cucumber war
There really is nothing funny about a tariff war. Once one side starts it, the other matches, and so it goes until an economic slump results and people start losing their jobs.
All the same, you’ve got to find something mildly amusing in the targets selected by our government for a retaliatory 10 per cent tariff on US goods imported into Canada. And you’ve got to say it shows a certain level of chutzpah.
For instance, Canada has slapped a tariff on American whiskey—which just happens to be produced in the state of Kentucky, stomping grounds of Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell. A tariff on toilet paper will affect Pennsylvania Republican Lou Barletta, whose constituency includes a Procter & Gamble plant that produces Charmin toilet paper. (This is one instance where it is okay to squeeze the Charmin). Pennsylvania also gets hit a second time with tariffs on chocolate and licorice, both produced by the Hershey Co. (in Hershey, PA).
But that’s not enough for clever Canadian tariff-targeters. How about a tariff on US ketchup, which is made in Ohio, the heartland of Trumpology, and produced by the Pennsylvania-based Heinz company? The list of goods similarly affected is wide ranging: it includes US sourced cucumbers, aftershave, postcards, strawberry jam, sleeping bags, mineral water, dishwashers and more.
Of course, this tariff regime means not that these goods will be prohibited from entering the country, but that they will become more expensive, unless the US producer wants to cut back its profit margin. Canadian consumers will be expected to do their bit by behaving in accordance with prototypical consumers in the Economics 101 model and switching their purchases to cheaper sources. Why not buy a made in Canada ketchup instead of a product made in Ohio; or choose made in China postcards instead of US-made cards for your holiday mail-homes? It can’t be that difficult; and who would really get upset if they received a picture of the Great Wall of China as a fleeting souvenir of a visit to the Rockies? It may seem like a small gesture, but if 36 million people also made the same determination, who knows, Donald Trump may just crumble under the pressure. Angry US cucumber growers who have seen the Canadian market evaporate on them may prevail upon Mr. Trump to eliminate the big 25 per cent tariff on steel that started off this whole spat.
If you are unsure of your ability to behave like the fictional Economics 101 consumer, you may have to resolve to boycott the tariff items completely. There is nothing so bracing as refusing to purchase after shave to invoke that old Dunkirk spirit of doing good by serving your country. And how hard can it be to live without cucumbers for a few years?
Another alternative is to boycott US goods entirely— if you can figure out what a US good is. (It would be short-sighted to pledge to buy your coffee at Tim Hortons, rather than McDonald’s, because deciding which of the two is “more Canadian” could keep you up late). That boycott would anticipate an extension of the punitive hand of Canada to all manner of US goods—cotton wool, hip waders and marmalade, for example.
I don’t see tariffs being extended to extra-long neckties, however. The market for them is dominated by, and limited to, a man whose style few want to emulate.
Comments (0)