Right then, gather ‘round, my dears, and let us speak of a most peculiar demise – not of a corpulent Belgian detective, nor a glamorous American heiress, but of something far more fundamental, something that once hummed with the joyous rhythm of exchange: the very Notion of Unfettered Global Trade.

Our scene opens not on a snow-laden railway in the Balkans, but in the hallowed, yet surprisingly beige, halls of the International Tariff Tribunal in early 2025. A chill, sharper than a poorly aimed icicle, permeated the air. For lo, the spectral figure of Protectionism, a gaunt and rather orange apparition, had once again cast its shadow.

Our protagonist, if we can call him that (and frankly, one wouldn’t), is a certain Mr. Donald J. Tremendous, a man whose hair appeared to have achieved sentience and was now engaged in a vigorous debate with his own eyebrows. He had, in his first act upon the world stage (circa 2017-2021), decided that the venerable old engine of global trade needed a good, firm kicking. “America First!” he’d bellowed, a slogan as subtle as a foghorn in a library. And with a flourish that would have made a particularly theatrical badger proud, he slapped tariffs on all manner of things – steel, aluminum, and, most notably, the entire contents of China, seemingly on the grounds that they kept sending us rather good fortune cookies without the actual fortune.

The international community, a collection of nations as diverse and bickering as passengers on a long train journey, responded with the sort of bewildered outrage one reserves for discovering a particularly aggressive squirrel has taken up residence in one’s hat. Retaliatory tariffs flew back and forth like particularly ill-tempered pigeons. The goal, we were told, was to bring back the glorious days of American manufacturing, a vision as romantic and possibly as outdated as a steam-powered washing machine.

Fast forward to the early months of Mr. Tremendous’s assumed second act (January-April 2025). The protectionist spectre, far from being exorcised, seemed to have developed a taste for the finer things in life, like further tariff increases and a meticulous study of supply chain vulnerabilities. One could almost imagine it twirling its spectral moustache, muttering about “critical industries” and the urgent need for national self-sufficiency, much like a character in a poorly translated spy novel.

Now, the backdrop to this unfolding drama was considerably less stable than our first act. The world, still reeling from the Great Pandemic Panic of the early twenties, was now juggling geopolitical kerfuffles (involving a rather unfortunate incident with a rogue consignment of Ukrainian borscht, or so the rumours went) and an inflation rate that seemed determined to reach escape velocity. This, naturally, provided ample excuse for more tariff-based shenanigans. “Think of the supply chains!” cried Mr. Tremendous, seemingly unaware that most supply chains were now so tangled they resembled a particularly enthusiastic plate of spaghetti.

The reactions, as one might expect, were a symphony of predictable groans and the occasional, rather unsettling cheer. Domestic industries, particularly those specialising in the manufacture of oversized novelty cheques, were delighted. Businesses that actually, you know, made things using imported bits and bobs, or dared to sell their wares beyond the sacred borders of America, expressed concerns that sounded remarkably like the whimpering of a trapped badger. The international community, meanwhile, collectively face-palmed with such force that several small nations briefly achieved escape velocity themselves.

And so, while the “America First” philosophy remained as stubbornly present as a stain on a favourite tablecloth, the tariffs of early 2025 had a certain… je ne sais quoi. A hint of desperation, perhaps? Or maybe just the lingering aroma of burnt economic bridges.

But did these tariffs, this grand protectionist experiment, actually deliver the promised goods? Did the American manufacturing sector suddenly burst into a glorious, job-creating, trade-deficit-slaying phoenix? Well, the data, bless its dry, statistical heart, paints a picture as clear as mud wrestled by an octopus. While a widget factory here or a sprocket manufacturer there might have experienced a fleeting moment in the sun, the overall growth in manufacturing and employment resembled the gentle, almost imperceptible, rise of a particularly lethargic soufflé. As for the trade deficit, that stubborn beast remained stubbornly… there. Like an unwanted guest who has eaten all the biscuits and refuses to leave.

And then, the truly dreadful bit. The tangible toll. The negative consequences, which manifested with the subtle grace of a rhinoceros in a tutu. Consumer prices, already doing a passable impression of a runaway train, decided to pick up even more speed, thanks in no small part to these tariffs. Steel and aluminum, suddenly imbued with an almost mystical expensiveness, drove up the cost of everything from cars to can openers. Chinese goods, once the affordable backbone of modern life, now carried a hefty surcharge, much to the chagrin of anyone attempting to purchase a new pair of novelty socks.

But the real tragedy unfolded amongst those poor souls who actually made things in America, relying on those pesky imported components. Their costs soared, making them about as competitive as a chocolate teapot in a sauna. And let’s not forget the farmers, those salt-of-the-earth types who suddenly found their soybeans and pork chops about as popular overseas as a politician at a badger convention. Retaliatory tariffs had seen to that, leaving them with fields full of unsold produce and a distinct lack of festive badger-related cheer.

The global supply chains, already resembling a plate of particularly tangled spaghetti (a recurring theme, it seems), descended into utter chaos. Businesses, in a frantic attempt to avoid the tariff-induced apocalypse, began flailing around for alternative suppliers, leading to a logistical nightmare that would have made a particularly pedantic bureaucrat weep with joy.

And so, we arrive at our doomsday scenario. Imagine, if you will, a world where these initial tariff tantrums escalate into a full-blown protectionist hissy fit. Country A throws a tariff tantrum at Country B, who responds by hurling a tariff tea set back. Soon, everyone is at it, lobbing trade barriers like particularly aggressive toddlers throwing their toys. Global trade, once a smooth-flowing river, becomes a stagnant, tariff-choked swamp. International cooperation packs its bags and leaves a rather terse note on the fridge.

The consequences, my dears, would be less than ideal. Global economic growth would likely grind to a halt, like a train that has run out of steam and is now being used as a badger sanctuary. Industries reliant on the intricate web of global supply chains would simply… cease to be, like a particularly ambitious soufflé that has collapsed in on itself. Consumers would find themselves paying exorbitant prices for everything, possibly leading to a resurgence in bartering (I can offer you three slightly used novelty socks for that loaf of bread). Innovation would wither and die, like a houseplant left untended during a particularly enthusiastic badger-watching expedition. And in the truly apocalyptic version of this tale, widespread economic misery could lead to nations engaging in even more… robust forms of disagreement.

So, the “America First” tariffs. Perhaps a roaring success? The evidence suggests otherwise. More like a rather unfortunate incident involving a beloved global train, a misguided conductor with a penchant for loud slogans, and a whole carriage full of very confused and increasingly impoverished passengers. And the badgers? Well, they probably just watched the whole thing with a mixture of bemusement and mild concern for their future supply of novelty socks. It can’t get any more absurd than the last 3 months… can it?