Let me propose that we respond to President Donald Trump and his supporters in a more direct fashion: by wiping them out. No, not with violent force, or vain attempts at economic annihilation, but in a way that is more, shall we say, fundamental.
It would be shockingly easy to empty America’s store shelves of toilet paper. A weeks-long bog-roll panic could be provoked, right now, with only a few words from a Canadian leader. The tissue of lies behind the trade war would be wiped away, exposing the backside of Mr. Trump’s bizarre trade claims in a way that would be far more noticeable than any retaliatory tariff.
It’s a childish and, in the long term, only a symbolic proposal. But behind it is a more serious multi-ply argument about how trading nations should best respond to rising waves of protectionism and hostile nationalism without shooting themselves in the foot or triggering a global spiral of economic isolationism that would make life worse for everyone.
Last month my colleague Sean Silcoff spoke to the head of Mississauga-based Kruger Products Inc., which makes leading toilet-paper brands Cashmere, White Swan and Purex, among others. He warned that a 25-per-cent tariff could provoke an American loo-roll panic all by itself.
“If you have a supply disruption or unavailability because of tariffs in the U.S., you’ll have empty shelves and it will be front-page news because it will have a direct, immediate impact on the consumer,” Kruger CEO Dino Bianco said. “Whether you’re a red or blue state, you still use toilet paper, and if you can’t buy it at your local Walmart or Costco, you’re going to be screaming at the government because you’re going to blame tariffs.”
Supply chains for the rolls of tissue are so constrained, lacking in stored reserves and Canada-dependent, Mr. Bianco explained, that it would only take a tiny push to cause panic buying and the anxiety-inducing sound of empty cardboard tubes rattling on bathroom spindles.
We learned how easy it is to wad up the market in the spring of 2020, when a pandemic bathroom-tissue scare led to empty shelves and panic buying worldwide. It had no basis in reality – there were no supply shortages – but it was because of the nature of the product: the considerable shelf space it takes up. Modern supermarkets store all their product on the shelf. It takes only a few dozen extra purchases to clear one store’s shelves, and during the day or two it takes to restock, people see long aisles of air and conjure a world devoid of two-ply. That provokes mass purchases and hoarding, and a fast-unfurling spiral of scarcity.
Given this antecedent, all it might take to TP-bomb the Americans back to the corn-cob age would be the Prime Minister, or one of the big-province premiers, seriously mooting the idea of a product-specific embargo on the U.S. airwaves. The clenched imaginings of consumer psychology would take care of the rest.
It’s this sort of specific, targeted action that makes much more sense than countervailing tariffs – both on the practical level, and as a reflection of the basic values and economic priorities of a trading nation.
The message Canada needs to send in response to Mr. Trump’s tariffs is not that we, too, are seeking to head toward economic autarky and self-isolation through the imposition of similar tariffs. Trade is two-thirds of our economy, and free trade has been crucial to Canada’s postwar boom in living standards. The response to Mr. Trump’s decision to effectively tax his consumers, drive up inflation and lower living standards shouldn’t be to do the same thing to ourselves.
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has done well in conveying that message. Yet the non-tariff acts of premiers have been more felt. Just listen to U.S. industry’s response to the decision by the Liquor Control Board of Ontario, one of the world’s largest alcohol purchasers, to remove all American brands from its shelves.
“I mean, it’s worse than a tariff, because it’s literally taking your sales away, completely removing our products from the shelves,” said Lawson Whiting, CEO of the company that makes Jack Daniel’s. They’re headquartered in Kentucky, a state that voted overwhelmingly for Mr. Trump. Canada only makes up 1 per cent of their market – but the sudden erasure of 1 per cent of your revenue is felt more directly and meaningfully than a 25-per-cent price increase in that market.
It sends a clearer message: Canadians believe in trade. We want trade. And if you deprive us of it, we know how to hit you where it really hurts.