Some presidents spend their first few weeks in office trying to make good on their central campaign promise; Donald Trump has instead done everything he can to avoid having to follow through on his. A controversial campaign pledge to enact big, universal tariffs that would transform the global-trade system and usher in American prosperity has been whittled down to a set of hollow threats designed to extract mostly symbolic concessions from America’s neighbors. Trump is behaving like a man who has lost the appetite for aggressive tariffs—if he ever had it in the first place.

Throughout the 2024 campaign, Trump vowed to enact the most sweeping trade restrictions since the Great Depression: a 10 to 20 percent tariff on all goods coming from foreign countries, plus a special 60 percent tariff on goods from China. Trump and his key trade advisers argued that the plan would revive American manufacturing, enrich the U.S. government, and keep America’s economy ahead of China’s.

Following Trump’s victory in November, however, some of his economic advisers began offering a pared-down proposal in an effort to assuage business leaders and investors who worried about tariffs’ inflationary consequences. Tariffs, they argued, were really a negotiating tool that would allow Trump to win economic and geopolitical concessions from America’s trading partners. Howard Lutnick, who is now Trump’s secretary of commerce, claimed that the mere threat of tariffs could be used as leverage to rewrite the rules of the international trading system in America’s favor. “We’ll make a bunch of money on the tariffs, but mostly everybody else is going to negotiate with us,” he said on CNBC. Scott Bessent, now Trump’s treasury secretary, argued that tariffs could have noneconomic benefits as well; they would, he said, be “a useful tool for achieving the president’s foreign-policy objectives.”

[Rogé Karma: Reaganomics is on its last legs]

Upon taking office, Trump narrowed the logic of his proposed trade restrictions even further. The economic rationale disappeared entirely, and even the political goals tied to his tariff threats appeared oddly small-bore. In the first two weeks of his presidency, Trump threatened tariffs against Colombia for refusing to take in flights carrying deported migrants, against the EU for running trade surpluses with the U.S., and against Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa (collectively referred to as the “BRICS”) for considering the creation of a new reserve currency. Then, this past Friday, Trump announced his first official round of tariffs: a 10 percent levy on all goods from China and 25 percent on nearly all goods from Mexico and Canada. According to a document announcing the tariffs, their purpose would be to “hold Mexico, Canada, and China accountable to their promises of halting illegal immigration and stopping poisonous fentanyl and other drugs from flowing into our country.” “WILL THERE BE SOME PAIN?” Trump posted on Sunday on Truth Social. “YES, MAYBE (AND MAYBE NOT!).”

Then, almost as fast as Trump announced the tariffs, he reversed course. Yesterday morning, he decided to pause the tariffs on Mexico after its president, Claudia Sheinbaum, announced that she would deploy 10,000 troops to the border to curb immigration and drug trafficking. Later that afternoon, the tariffs on Canada were also paused following two phone calls between Trump and Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, who agreed to implement a $1.3 billion plan to reinforce America’s northern border, appoint a “Fentanyl Czar,” and launch a $200 million “intelligence directive” to crack down on organized crime and fentanyl. Trump took the opportunity to declare victory. “I am very pleased with this initial outcome,” he wrote in a post on Truth Social. “FAIRNESS FOR ALL!”

In reality, Trump’s tariff threats accomplished next to nothing beyond political theater. Canada’s $1.3 billion border plan sounds like a big concession—but it had already been announced before Trump took office. Moreover, last year, just 1.5 percent of illegal border crossings took place and just 0.2 percent of the fentanyl seized by U.S. border authorities was found at the Canadian border. Crossings at the southern border, meanwhile, have been plummeting since March and, by the end of last year, had reached a lower point than when Trump left office the first time. Fentanyl entering into the U.S. from Mexico remains a problem, but sending more Mexican troops to the border is unlikely to fix it; Mexico already sent 15,000 troops to the border in response to Trump’s tariff threats in 2019, and the scale of trafficking has only increased.

Maybe political theater was the point all along. The appeal of tariffs has as much to do with the signal they send as with their concrete benefits. In fact, a widely discussed economics paper published last year found that although Trump’s 2018–19 trade war with China failed to boost employment in areas that had been most undercut by Chinese exports, it still boosted vote share for Trump and other Republicans in those places. Trump seems to have intuited this dynamic on his own. By proposing a set of tariffs that he likely had no intention of following through on, Trump could appear tough on trade, declare a victory, and claim to have fulfilled a key campaign promise—all without having to risk political backlash over the higher prices that come with  actual high tariffs. Of course, whether voters will view Trump’s actions in this way, rather than as a transparent charade, remains to be seen.

[Read: A handbook for dealing with Trump threats]

What is clear is that the averted tariffs had essentially nothing to do with economics. For years, Trump’s intellectual supporters, notably his former trade representative Robert Lighthizer and his current senior trade adviser, Peter Navarro, have promoted a heterodox economic theory in support of major tariffs. Enacting such restrictions, they argue, would turn America into a manufacturing powerhouse, ensure its lead in the crucial technologies of the future, and deliver prosperity to Middle America. Perhaps the most striking thing about the tariffs that Trump has threatened to impose so far is that they don’t even pretend to further that vision. Trump voters were promised a manufacturing revival, and what they got was a Canadian fentanyl czar.

The partial exception is the 10 percent tariff on China that went into effect this morning and, as of this writing, remains intact. There, the economic and geopolitical case for restrictions is far more coherent: Liberalized trade relations with China has been empirically linked to the decline of America’s manufacturing base, and depending on a great-power rival for crucial technologies poses national-security risks. Yet, even here, Trump has not justified the tariff in those terms—and he implemented it at a level far below the 60 percent that he promised on the campaign trail.

Trump’s second term is still in its infancy. Perhaps trade restrictions on the scale promised on the campaign trail remain in the offing. The available evidence, however, suggests that Trump favors steep tariffs only so long as they are theoretical. Most experts have argued that Trump’s tariff plan would inflict severe economic pain domestically. The president’s most recent moves suggest that he has come to believe them.

Big Pharma is downplaying — for now — the potential negative impacts of President Donald Trump’s China tariffson their industry.

Read more...

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Over the first two weeks of the second Donald Trump presidency, the narrative has swung back and forth abruptly. A flurry of executive orders to start the term: proof of a newly disciplined, regimented administration. The quick retreat from a federal funding freeze: evidence of the same chaos that dogged Trump’s first stint as president. Elon Musk’s blitzkrieg against USAID: Who can even be sure?

The first Trump administration conditioned many people to discount the seriousness of any effort. No matter what Trump promised, he was too mercurial a president and ineffective a manager to make it happen. He really did want to repeal Obamacare and build a border wall, but he just didn’t have the attention span to execute, and his staff was too consumed with internecine feuds to be useful. The result was perpetual disorder and underachievement.

More recently, Trumpworld has cultivated an impression of greater control. Trump’s 2024 campaign co-manager Susie Wiles was credited with keeping him on track during the lead-up to the election (with some notable exceptions), and she’s now White House chief of staff. Project 2025, an outside effort led by past, current, and likely future White House staffers, also demonstrates careful thought about how to better execute during a second term. When Trump signed a series of executive orders along many fronts on January 20 and 21, it seemed to prove that something had changed, although sharp rebukes from federal judges and sloppy drafting errors have raised doubts since then.

But chaos versus strategy is a misleading and unhelpful binary for understanding this presidency. Chaos certainly helps Trump, because it makes coordinated resistance from Congress, outside advocates, or the public challenging. Many White House actions appear to be usurping legislative authority, but the speed of the moves has left members of Congress in both parties looking stunned and indecisive. His goal, however, is not simply to create confusion. Trump likes keeping his aides siloed—it allows him to play them off one another, and prevents any one faction from getting too strong. (His appreciation for checks and balances does not appear to extend to Congress and the courts.) Internal feuding isn’t a downside for Trump: It’s his way of settling disputes.

Moreover, the chaos does not evince a lack of strategy. As I wrote last week, the grant freeze by the Office of Management and Budget wasn’t some ad hoc move, but instead part of a long-running plan by conservative ideologues to challenge the law that prevents the president from withholding money that’s appropriated. That’s also why the White House’s retreat from the freeze is almost certainly only temporary.

Elon Musk’s moves, through the so-called Department of Government Efficiency, appear to be more improvisational. Unlike the OMB wonks, Musk has little knowledge of how the federal government works and little interest in the risk of his actions; his team reportedly includes inexperienced aides as young as 19. Nonetheless, the transformation of Twitter into X serves as a good model for how this might play out. After Musk’s aggressive takeover, refugees from the company made dire warnings about it collapsing entirely. More than two years later, the site is overrun with racist trolls, but it is still functional and has become a powerful political weapon for Musk.

If Musk is left to his own devices, we might expect something similar from DOGE. He’s already gotten nearly 1 percent of the federal workforce to resign, almost single-handledly brought USAID to the verge of death, and reportedly acquired access to reams of government data. As my colleague Charlie Warzel wrote yesterday, “It is nothing short of an administrative coup.” A Muskified federal government might not serve the public very well, but it could become an effective political tool for Musk and his allies.

And that might not be the only administrative coup in action. New staffers are joining the administration every day, and many of them have ties to Project 2025, the scheme to overhaul the federal government. Russell Vought, the intellectual leading light of Project 2025, passed a procedural vote yesterday and could be confirmed to lead OMB this week. Adam Candeub, another Project 2025 contributor, was just named general counsel of the Federal Communications Commission. This group is far more methodical than Musk, preferring a careful and quiet plan to his blunt, noisy tack.

What unites Musk and the ideologues is a commitment to do whatever they can, and see what they can get away with it. If that looks like chaos, so be it. They know what it is they’re trying to do.

Related:

There is a strategy behind the chaos. Trump’s campaign to dismantle the government

Here are four new stories from The Atlantic:

The “rapid unscheduled disassembly” of the United States government The constitutional crisis is here. Elon Musk is president, Jonathan Lemire writes. The last days of American orange juice

Today’s News

China announced retaliatory tariffs on U.S. gas, coal, and other products, which will go into effect next Monday. Chinese regulators also began an anti-monopoly investigation into Google. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard passed key committee votes to advance their Cabinet nominations to the Senate floor. Several FBI employees sued the Justice Department over its order for the bureau to turn over a list of names of employees who worked on investigations related to the January 6 insurrection.

Evening Read

Chronicle / Alamy

What’s Up With All the Sex Parties?

By Xochitl Gonzalez

In the course of my research, I did not—I would like to be clear here—participate in any sex parties. I think it’s wise not to get that close to your sources. I learned that “play parties” can take place in people’s homes, but many happen under the auspices of private clubs. I reached out to a number of prominent ones, wondering if the sex-club boom was real, and what actually goes on at them. One of my major findings: People, especially rich people, come up with extremely elaborate justifications for getting laid.

Read the full article.

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Democracy in Eastern Europe faces another crisis. DeepSeek and the truth about Chinese tech American history is key to understanding Trump. “Dear James”: My friend’s Instagram account has taken a dark turn.

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Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic. Source: csa-archive / Getty.

Debate. When people say they “don’t like” kids, they’re expressing way more than a preference, Stephanie H. Murray writes.

Read. The novelist Ali Smith scrambles plotlines, upends characters, and flouts chronology—while telling propulsively readable stories, Adam Begley writes.

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Courtesy of David A. Graham

I forgot one other thing I share with Tom: a love of cats. This is my irascible assistant and ombudscat, Mackerel (a.k.a. Mack, Mackintosh, Mackinac … or whatever my children come up with at any given moment). He’s almost a year old, and when he’s not hiding in a laundry hamper, harassing his big sister Nellie, or stealing food off the counter, he’s usually getting in my face or walking across my keyboard—so please direct any typo complaints his way.

— David

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Ron Johnson may be the most anti-vaccine lawmaker in Congress; he’s the kind of guy who says he’s “sticking up for people who choose not to get vaccinated” while claiming without valid evidence that thousands have died from COVID shots. This morning, at the Capitol, Johnson walked over to his Senate Finance Committee colleague Bill Cassidy, a doctor and a passionate advocate for vaccination, and gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. The two of them had just advanced Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s nomination to lead the Department of Health and Human Services to the Senate floor.

The committee vote, which was held this morning in a room crammed to capacity with what appeared to be roughly equal numbers of Kennedy’s skeptics and devotees, certainly fit with the behavior of a compliant GOP. But it was still surprising in its way, if only because, until this morning, Cassidy had been so clearly wary of giving the nation’s highest role in public health to a prominent anti-vaccine activist. At last week’s confirmation hearings, he seemed like he might even be prepared to cast his vote with the opposition. That didn’t happen.

Whether you like Kennedy or not, the hearings showed that he lacks the basic qualifications to hold this office. He knows very little about the nearly $2 trillion behemoth that he would be tasked with running. He flubbed the basics of programs such as Medicare and Medicaid, and seemed wholly unaware of an important law that governs emergency abortions. The hearings also called attention to a passel of health-related conspiracy theories that RFK Jr. has floated in the past, including that Lyme disease was developed as a bioweapon, that COVID is “ethnically targeted” to infect Caucasians and Black people (and spare Ashkenazi Jews and Chinese people), and that standard childhood vaccinations are damaging or deadly.

As of last Thursday, Kennedy appeared to have unwavering support from the committee’s Republicans, who occupy 14 of its 27 seats—with one notable exception: Cassidy. Prior to taking office, the Louisiana senator had personally led a campaign to vaccinate 36,000 kids against hepatitis B. In an interview with Fox News last month, he said that RFK Jr. is “wrong” about vaccines. And in early 2021, Cassidy joined six other GOP senators in voting to convict Donald Trump on charges of “incitement of insurrection.” The doctor had voted his conscience before. It seemed possible that he would do so once again.

Cassidy made no attempt to hide his skepticism of RFK Jr. during Thursday’s hearing. He spoke up at one point to correct the record after his Republican colleague Rand Paul worked up the crowd of pro-Kennedy spectators by disparaging the practice of vaccinating babies for hep B. Later on, he paused to cite a meta-analysis disproving Kennedy’s often-stated belief that childhood vaccines may be a cause of autism. (Cassidy also explained the concept of a meta-analysis for those in the room and people watching at home.) When RFK Jr. cited his own evidence for being skeptical of vaccines, referring to a paper from a little-known journal, Cassidy put on his reading glasses, peered at his iPad, and reviewed the evidence firsthand. At the end of the hearing, he reported that he’d found “some issues” with the paper, and then implored Kennedy to disavow mistruths about vaccine safety. “As a patriotic American, I want President Trump’s policies to succeed in making America and Americans more secure, more prosperous, healthier. But if there’s someone that is not vaccinated because of policies or attitudes you bring to the department, and there’s another 18-year-old who dies of a vaccine-preventable disease [...] It’ll be blown up in the press,” he warned. “So that’s my dilemma, man.”

Cassidy’s “dilemma” hardly went unnoticed by RFK Jr.’s supporters. Calley Means, a proponent of Kennedy’s Make America Healthy Again campaign, said last weekend on The Charlie Kirk Show that MAHA moms are now “camping out at [Cassidy’s] office.” (I did not see any tents or sleeping bags outside his door this morning.) Other MAHA leaders, including the anti-vaccine activist Del Bigtree, have also issued political threats to any lawmakers who might try to stop Kennedy’s confirmation. “Anyone that votes in that direction, I think, is really burying themselves,” Bigtree told me and a group of other reporters last week.

Cassidy, for his part, wasn’t saying much about his personal deliberations. His only official social-media post from the weekend quoted a Bible verse from the Book of Joshua: “Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged,” it read in part. “Be strong and courageous.”

When he arrived at the committee room this morning, Cassidy was somber. He stared straight ahead, his brow furrowed. He’d been verbose at last week’s hearings, but now he said only a single word—“aye”—and left the room. In a social-media post that went up this morning, Cassidy explained that he’d received “serious commitments” from the Trump administration that made him comfortable with voting yes. Speaking later on the Senate floor, he added that RFK Jr. had promised to “meet or speak” with him multiple times a month, that the Trump administration would not remove assurances from the CDC’s website that vaccines do not cause autism, and that the administration would give his committee notice before making any changes to the nation’s existing vaccine-safety-monitoring systems. “It’s been a long, intense process, but I’ve assessed it as I would assess a patient as a physician,” Cassidy said. “Ultimately, restoring trust in our public-health institution is too important, and I think Senator Kennedy can help get that done.”

Even if Cassidy had voted no, his vote may not have mattered in the end. Under normal circumstances, a nomination that got voted down by the Senate Finance Committee would be dead in the water—but these were not normal circumstances. Majority Leader John Thune could still have scheduled a vote by the full Senate, at which point Kennedy would have been kept from office only if at least three other Republicans had joined Cassidy in opposition.

It’s still not a sure thing that Kennedy will be confirmed by the full Senate. Other Republicans, including Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, have raised concerns about Kennedy’s anti-vaccine activism. But the odds of RFK Jr.’s defeat are shrinking, and Cassidy’s thumbs-up may one day be remembered as the mirror image of John McCain’s thumbs-down from 2017, when that independent-minded senator doomed Trump’s efforts to repeal the Affordable Care Act. Faced with an opportunity to make the same sort of stand, Cassidy folded. Now the American public is at the whims of the administration’s promises.

China’s first major response to President Donald Trump’s tariffs wasn’t like the U.S.’s approach, which tackled all Chinese imports. Instead, Beijing singled out a handful of big areas — and major companies — to pile on the pressure.

Read more...

The Australian government says the Chinese AI app is a threat to it and its assets.

When the upstart Chinese firm DeepSeek revealed its latest AI model in January, Silicon Valley was impressed. The engineers had used fewer chips, and less money, than most in the industry thought possible. Wall Street panicked and tech stocks dropped. Washington worried that it was losing ground in a vital strategic sector. Beijing and its supporters concurred: “DeepSeek has shaken the myth of the invincibility of U.S. high technology,” one nationalist commentator, Hu Xijin, crowed on Chinese social media.

Then, however, OpenAI, which operates ChatGPT, revealed that it was investigating DeepSeek for having allegedly trained its chatbot using ChatGPT. China’s Silicon Valley–slayer may have mooched off Silicon Valley after all.

Which DeepSeek is the real DeepSeek? The plucky innovator or the unethical swindler? The answer is both.

Chinese companies have proved to be skillful inventors, capable of competing with the world’s best, including Apple and Tesla. And they have also proved adept at copying and stealing technology they don’t have, then turning it against the rivals that created it. Making a product on the cheap is much easier when you don’t have to invest in developing it from scratch.

[Read: China’s DeepSeek surprise]

“The old narrative was that China cannot innovate but can only copy,” Gregory Allen,  the director of the Wadhwani AI Center at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, told me. “Now China can both innovate and copy, and benefit from both.”

DeepSeek’s model has genuinely inventive elements, some of which Silicon Valley engineers will surely study for features to adopt. The Chinese company has wrung new efficiencies and lower costs from available technologies—something China has done in other fields. Jimmy Goodrich, a senior adviser to the Rand Corporation who specializes in Chinese technology, told me that the same country that has excelled at reducing manufacturing costs and improving factory operations, in other words, has in this case figured out “how to crunch a lot of data at faster speeds with a smaller number of computers.”

But then DeepSeek may have gone a step further, engaging in a process known as “distillation.” In essence, the firm allegedly bombarded ChatGPT with questions, tracked the answers, and used those results to train its own models. When asked “What model are you?” DeepSeek’s recently released chatbot at first answered “ChatGPT” (but it no longer seems to share that highly suspicious response). What DeepSeek is accused of doing is nothing like hacking, but it’s still a violation of OpenAI’s terms of service. And if DeepSeek did indeed do this, it helped the firm to create a competitive AI model at a much lower cost than OpenAI. DeepSeek did not respond to a request for comment.

The implications of what DeepSeek has done could ripple through the industry. What’s the point of investing tens of millions in an AI model if a competitor (Chinese or otherwise) can simply rip it off?

But the story of DeepSeek also reveals just how much Chinese technological development continues to depend on the United States. DeepSeek used chips from the U.S. giant Nvidia to create its model, and, as it turns out, may have also tapped American data to train it. Washington can capitalize on that advantage to choke off Chinese tech firms.

[Read: The DeepSeek wake-up call]

Denying China the fruits of the most cutting-edge American research has been at the core of U.S. competitive strategy. Beginning in late 2022, for instance, the Biden administration effectively barred U.S. companies from selling Chinese firms the most advanced chips. DeepSeek acquired its chips before the controls kicked in. (U.S. officials are also investigating whether the company may have bought banned chips through third parties in Singapore.) In an interview last year, DeepSeek’s founder, Liang Wenfeng, admitted that “the problem we face has never been money, but the embargo on high-end chips.” The firm limited new users last week because, it said, of the threat of hacking—but the system also may not have the capacity to handle a deluge of curious customers.

China’s government and chip industry are racing to replace barred U.S. semiconductors with homegrown alternatives, but the technology is complicated and they are struggling to catch up. That’s why China’s leader, Xi Jinping, personally pressed President Joe Biden for relief from the controls. Now DeepSeek’s success may frighten Washington into tightening restrictions even further. Members of Congress have already called for an expansion of the chip ban to encompass a wider range of technologies.

But as much as the story of DeepSeek exposes the dependence of Chinese technology on American advances, it also suggests that stopping the transnational flow of technological goods and know-how may take more than export restrictions. DeepSeek’s engineers found ways to overcome Washington’s efforts to stymie them and showed that they could and would do more with less, compensating for scarcity with creativity—and by any means necessary.

The implication for the United States, Weifeng Zhong, a senior adviser at the America First Policy Institute, told me, is that “you really have to run much faster, because blocking may not always work to prevent China from catching up.” That could mean securing semiconductor supply chains, cultivating talent through education, and wooing foreign experts through targeted immigration programs. Because the tech war is, at its heart, a talent contest, Washington might even consider awarding green cards to Chinese engineers who graduate from U.S. universities, so as to get them working for Silicon Valley companies rather than DeepSeek.

[Read: DeepSeek’s chatbot has an important message]

President Donald Trump may be heading in a different direction. He has sharply criticized the CHIPS Act, passed in 2022, which provides government financial support for strengthening the semiconductor industry in the United States, and instead favors slapping tariffs on chips from Taiwan. He has threatened to close the Department of Education. And a recent spat between Tesla’s founder, Elon Musk, and MAGA loyalists over visas for foreign specialists showed that elements of the Republican coalition are too opposed to immigrants to attract the talent that Silicon Valley requires. On this one, Trump took Musk’s side in favor of the visa program.

Whatever the United States chooses to do with its talent and technology, DeepSeek has shown that Chinese entrepreneurs and engineers are ready to compete by any and all means, including invention, evasion, and emulation. Maybe DeepSeek is the great Chinese tech disrupter it has been touted to be. Or maybe that will be the next big Chinese tech company, or the next one.

Last-minute phone calls pull the North American neighbours back from the brink of a trade war, but the US is still targeting Chinese imports.