I have a short piece pushing back on such assertions in The Atlantic this week, but that article leaves out a lot of detail that Capitolism readers have come to know and love (right?!). And because Bessent just doubled down on this new economic message over the weekend, I want to expand on why cheap stuff—whether imported or domestic—isn’t the “American dream” but sure as hell helps us achieve it.
‘Cheap’ Means Affordable (and Affordable Is Very Good)
The most obvious place to start is the immense benefits we all get from access to “cheap stuff” and from policies that help expand that access. As I note in The Atlantic piece, every one of us is a consumer that devotes a substantial portion of our incomes to “essential goods such as clothing, food, shelter, and energy—goods made cheaper and more plentiful by international trade.” Thanks to the internet and the rise of digital trade, moreover, we increasingly benefit from “internationally traded services too, whether it’s an online tutor in Pakistan, a personal trainer in London, a help-desk employee in India, or an accountant in the Philippines.” And, as anyone who’s ridden in an American car from the early 1980s understands, we benefit from this access even when we buy American, because domestic goods and services become better and cheaper when they’re forced to compete with imports on quality or price.
Protectionists routinely denigrate these benefits as merely saving a few cents off a cheap T‑shirt or toaster, but as I noted in the piece, those pennies add up: “Overall, studies conservatively estimate that American households save thousands of dollars a year from the lower prices, increased variety, and global competition fomented by international trade.” Even the much-denigrated China Shock provides such gains, as I summarized in a recent essay: “For each percentage point increase in Chinese imports, consumer prices fell by nearly 2 percentage points, with savings from both imports and domestically produced goods (thanks to heightened competition).” That translates (well, it translated) into hundreds of dollars a year in annual savings for each U.S. household—gains disproportionately accruing to middle- and low-income Americans because “the most affected products were those often sold at big-box retailers, such as Target and Walmart.”
Given how much Americans today care about the cost of living (and how it dominated the 2024 election), it’s certainly not a coincidence that Trump officials and other protectionists routinely describe the affordable imports they wish to tax as “cheap.” For many people, the adjective implies not merely low prices but also low quality. Yet this ploy ignores not only the word’s primary dictionary definition (low price, good value, etc.), but several inconvenient realities. Most obviously, the administration’s tariffs apply to goods from not just to China but also Canada, Mexico, and—in the case of steel and aluminum goods and forthcoming “reciprocal” tariffs—many other countries in the world. The tariffs also aren’t in any way distinguishing between high- and low-quality goods—they’re just a blanket tax on stuff Americans want, often because they’re “cheaper.”
The denigration of “cheap” things also ignores their clear role in improved human well-being. As detailed in this excellent new essay on how pineapples became commonplace, things we consider cheap and mundane today were often once luxury items—and it’s the very process of “cheapening” something, via generations of international trade and technological innovation, that raises our living standards over the long term (emphasis mine):