Testing Assumptions About US Foreign Policy in 2025

Introduction: Why we should always question the assumptions guiding US foreign policy

After all, human beings have a tendency to succumb to groupthink. We gravitate toward people who think like us. And we prefer those facts that align with our preconceived notions, rather than those that tell us we’re wrong (aka confirmation bias).

A little over a year ago, our team put forward a set of prevailing assumptions that we thought might be tested in 2024. You can check it out here, and see how well we did.

This year, we’ve identified nine different core assumptions, some which are specific to the times we are in, for example, what to do about the war in Ukraine or Iran’s nuclear program. Others address perennial problems, such as how to reform the Pentagon, or whether U.S. leadership remains central to global peace and prosperity.

We hope this collection stimulates fresh thinking, elicits constructive responses, and, perhaps, even shapes the United States’ approach to an ever-changing world.

And if we guessed wrong, you can tell us that, too.

In a year.

Conventional wisdom: International agreements will collapse without US leadership

An examination of recent examples of U.S. withdrawals from established multilateral agreements shows a mixed bag: Some agreements do require U.S. leadership to be successful, but international collaboration can succeed in instances where the United States operates more passively. Nonetheless, if the United States decides to play spoiler to international agreements, interstate cooperation is unlikely. 

Actions taken by the first Trump administration provide relevant examples of what happens to international agreements when the United States steps back from a leadership role. Withdrawal from the Paris Agreement in 2020 demonstrated that although international cooperation can continue without U.S. leadership, its absence can hamper the ability of the remaining participants to reach an agreement’s goals. In the case of the World Trade Organization (WTO), U.S. efforts to impede the body in the Trump and Biden administrations caused ripple effects on global trading practices. Alternatives were established, most notably the Multi-Party Interim Appeal Arbitration Arrangement, but the WTO has not recovered its authority in resolving trade disputes, nor has its mission to lower trade barriers been successful in the absence of U.S. backing. As the scholars Jennifer Hillman and Inu Manak write, “In the end, the WTO would not have been created, and cannot move forward, without U.S. leadership.” This appears to be the case, not because other countries cannot bilaterally or multilaterally abide by the rules underpinning the WTO, but because the United States can act as a spoiler, using its outsized power to change the terms of international trade. Likewise, in the case of the Paris Agreement, lack of U.S. action on climate change spoils outcomes for those who do decide to remain members of the treaty.    

The first Trump administration demonstrated that U.S. leadership is not necessary to keep international agreements in place — the Paris Climate Accords and WTO still exist today — but the United States’ outsized power makes agreements without it challenging to maintain, and even more so when the United States directly opposes an international accord. This is especially the case with agreements that are pursued in institutions that were founded under U.S. leadership. The United States’ recent departure from the WHO immensely hurts the organization because of the financial and institutional leadership that the United States is stepping back from. But if a group of countries were to pursue a new WHO-esque body, the United States would have far less power to influence it. The case of the International Criminal Court (ICC) shows the limits of U.S. interference to international arrangements not already dependent on U.S. leadership. Under the first Trump administration, the United States moved from a nonparticipatory role in the ICC to an actively hostile stance when the U.S. sanctioned ICC prosecutors and their families. Because the United States had not been an active participant in the ICC prior to its withdrawal, this action did not substantially undermine the Court, however.

Existing international agreements and organizations led by the United States are likely to collapse if the United States withdraws and attempts to undermine the remaining structures. Owing to the United States’ outsized economic and military power, the security and economic agreements it abrogates are unlikely to be sustained in the face of U.S. opposition. However, U.S. abrogation of international leadership does not preclude successful international arrangements being formed in the United States’ absence. International agreements can succeed if they are not dependent on U.S. power — such as negotiations to curb Iran’s nuclear program, which require U.S. economic incentives or sanctions — and if they broadly align with U.S. interests.

In short, the United States has lost relative power on the world stage such that its leadership is not required for certain types of inter-state cooperation to succeed, but it maintains enough power to act as a spoiler toward any international agreement that it deems counter to its interests.

Conventional wisdom: Seizing Greenland (or any territory) is a bad idea

These musings were described by the media as absurd, or at least, out of fashion — an idea that sounded more like some out-of-date 19th-century foreign policy. That impression was only solidified by Trump’s inaugural address, which praised President William McKinley and called for America to once again embrace the concept of Manifest Destiny. Surely, onlookers argued, territorial acquisition simply could not be a valid foreign policy in today’s more modern, interconnected, and humane world? Representative Jim Himes (D-CT) told reporters, “It’s bananas. It’s insane”; others have compared Trump to dictators like Russian President Vladimir Putin.

One should be wary of any assertion that certain phenomena — the expansion of a country’s territory, tariffs, or other archaic international events — do not happen anymore. After all, the return of full-scale war to the European continent was thought to be improbable prior to Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine. Both the Biden and first Trump administrations, meanwhile, have brought tariffs and industrial policy back to the center of U.S. foreign economic policy in a way that has overturned much of post-Cold War economic orthodoxy.

In fact, territory has changed hands between states in recent years. Sometimes this has been the result of wartime seizure, as in Armenia and Ukraine. In other cases, countries have legally split in two, as when South Sudan separated from Sudan. Disputed territorial boundaries remain in a variety of places, from Morocco’s claim to the Western Sahara, to the Chinese and Indian dispute over Ladakh in the Himalayas. In various conflicts — most notably the Israel-Palestine conflict — land swaps may form part of any eventual peace deal; as recently as 2022, Egypt ceded two islands in the Red Sea to Saudi Arabia. In short, borders are no more immutable in 2025 than in prior decades.

But whether the United States should try to acquire territory through force or monetary means is a totally different question. Today, the overseas territories and bases the United States does have are either negotiated with host governments — such as Germany or Kuwait — or are themselves the legacy of U.S. and allied colonialism. Guantanamo Bay, for example, remains a U.S. possession, as do various islands in the Pacific. The United States also maintains important basing interests in the Indian Ocean (i.e., the Chagos Islands) through cooperation with the British government, which has long controlled the territory as an overseas possession.

Indeed, the United States is relatively unique compared to most historical great powers: It possesses relatively few colonies or territories and largely holds sway through other means. Some scholars argue that American global hegemony has been facilitated largely by advances in technology that enable the U.S. military to project force globally from a relatively small number of overseas bases. In the modern world, therefore, territory tends to matter less than consistent basing, overflight, and other access rights.

This suggests that both the America-First conservatives and their critics are asking the wrong question about Greenland or Panama. The question is not whether the United States should seize territory in the manner of an imperial power. Instead, analysts should ask whether access to these territories is important or even vital to U.S. national security needs, and — if so — what is the most efficient and cost-effective way to secure access and to prevent other powers like China from doing so?

Invasions are rarely cost-effective. Even if the leaders of the new administration do decide that Panama or Greenland is vital to U.S. national security — a question that cannot be dismissed given the geographical importance of each — they are likely to find themselves negotiating access privileges rather than planning an invasion.

Conventional wisdom: The United States should increase weapons shipments to Ukraine to strengthen its hand in negotiations

If it were only so simple. Even a massive influx of Western arms — ignoring for a moment the problem of dwindling U.S. and European stockpiles — would not be enough to reverse Ukraine’s battlefield situation and strengthen its military leverage over Russia. The conflict in Ukraine has become a war of attrition; if fought to the finish, it will likely end in Ukraine’s military defeat. Kyiv does not have enough fighters to sustain the war effort for years to come.

Three years into the war, Kyiv is struggling to find enough soldiers to hold the front line, and those filling its ranks are increasingly older — the average soldier is now 43 years of age. Kyiv lowered the age of conscription from 27 to 25 last year, but it still suffers from an acute troop shortage — particularly a lack of infantry — with some Ukrainian men in hiding or fleeing the country to avoid conscription. Desertions have also increased as Russian forces continue to grind their way forward.

If the Trump administration were to increase military support for Ukraine, even providing long-range weapons such as Army Tactical Missile Systems (ATACMS) and removing any remaining restrictions on their use, Kyiv might gain a short window to destroy more targets and disrupt Russian logistics, but those missiles cannot physically occupy territory. Moscow would also know that because Ukraine cannot sustain such a level of military effort, the Russians need only hunker down and outwait and outlast Ukraine’s army. Given its acute troop shortage, Ukraine cannot afford large personnel losses in exchange for incremental battlefield gains; such losses would leave Kyiv in an even weaker negotiating position.

Time is on Russia’s side — and Moscow knows it.            

Ukraine’s current negotiating position depends on sending a clear signal to Moscow that it has the capacity to deny Russian forces further territorial gains — or that it can at least make them pay a very high price. The reality is grim: Ukraine’s military power has peaked, and it is not in a military position to improve its leverage over Russia. To maintain its current negotiating position, Ukraine will need to hold the front lines from collapsing, despite its falling troop numbers.

This will require two sets of actions.

First and foremost, Ukraine will need to conserve its military forces, remain on the defensive, and avoid undertaking costly counteroffensive actions. The strength of its defensive advantage offers Ukraine its only chance to offset its lack of personnel. As Emma Ashford and this analyst wrote last year, an effective defensive strategy would require the construction of a system of defensive fortifications, with thick and layered lines consisting of deep trenches, prepared firing positions, ditches, antitank mines, and concrete antitank barriers. Ukraine’s construction of fortifications has been slow and incomplete, marred by poor coordination and alleged corruption.

Second, Ukraine will need continued U.S. and allied military support to maintain its current military position as the war enters the stage of “fighting while negotiating.” Washington and its allies should supply Ukraine with antitank weapons, short-range artillery, and air defense assets, as well as the material and equipment required to build fortifications. The priority should be sending military aid that will help Ukraine to stabilize the front lines and prevent a collapse of its defenses.  The battlefield math will still favor Russia, but an effective defensive strategy can give Ukraine its best chance of holding back the Russians both on the battlefield and at the negotiating table.

Conventional wisdom: Military action is the only alternative to a new nuclear deal with Iran

But this assumption is flawed. An attack on Iran would neither eliminate Tehran’s nuclear ambitions nor prevent it from obtaining a bomb. Instead, it could push Iran toward weaponization — the very outcome strikes are meant to prevent — and spark a wider regional conflict. Moreover, while an Iran at the nuclear threshold — or even a nuclear-armed Iran — is far from ideal, such an outcome might be preferable to the ramifications of striking Iran.

Proponents of military action argue that with much of Iran’s air defenses recently destroyed and Tehran’s “axis” of allied militias weakened by Israel, the time is ripe to seriously degrade Iran’s nuclear program.

But this thinking ignores a crucial reality: Military force can disrupt but not eliminate Iran’s program. Because Iran’s nuclear installations are hardened and dispersed, it would be incredibly difficult to destroy all of them. Critically, even if airstrikes took out the facilities, Tehran would retain the technical knowledge (and very likely enough diverted nuclear materials) to rebuild the program and go for the bomb. And Tehran could very well do that in the wake of an attack, seeing nuclear weapons as the only real guarantee against further aggression.

At best, an attack on Iran’s nuclear facilities would set back the program. At worst, it could push Iran to finally develop nuclear weapons. Iran has a history of escalating its nuclear activities in response to foreign attacks. In 2021, just days after Israel sabotaged the Natanz facility, Iran began enriching uranium to 60% purity — dangerously close to weapons-grade. Following Israel’s October 2024 strikes on Iran’s missile defenses and other targets, Iran not only dramatically accelerated production of 60% uranium, but officials in Tehran increasingly discussed the benefits of weaponization. Attacking Iran would also likely trigger Iranian retaliation against the U.S. troops stationed in the region and risk a broader conflagration.

Although a new agreement remains the best path forward, a nuclear Iran is not a foregone conclusion even without such a deal. Iran has long pursued a strategy of nuclear hedging — maintaining the ability to develop a weapon quickly without crossing the threshold. The series of blows Tehran has been dealt in the past year — including the degradation of both its air defenses and Hezbollah, which Iran viewed as a key deterrent against Israeli attack — have begun to change this calculus, and further attacks on Iranian soil could lead it to abandon hedging. But Iran might still conclude that it gains more and risks less by remaining a threshold state. In that case, an informal understanding could be sufficient in lieu of a diplomatic breakthrough or “grand bargain.” The United States and Iran previously reached a limited agreement in 2023, under which Tehran slowed enrichment and released American hostages in return for access to frozen funds. That effort was derailed by the October 7, 2023, attacks and ensuing war in Gaza, but a similar stopgap arrangement could be feasible.

What if diplomacy fails and Iran develops nuclear weapons? The challenges posed by a nuclear-armed Iran cannot be dismissed, but they can be managed. The United States has successfully deterred China and Russia — much more powerful nuclear states — for decades and has learned to live with bombs in India, Pakistan, and North Korea. Iran is no exception to the logic of nuclear deterrence; its leadership has shown itself to be rational and to prioritize regime survival. If the choice is between bombing Iran and an Iran with a bomb, the latter could be the best of two bad options.

Conventional wisdom: The Trump administration will be primarily focused on great power competition

Many of Trump’s more recent policy signals may indeed support the idea that the second Trump administration intends to engage in intensive competition with both countries. For example, Trump’s threats to impose broad tariffs, especially targeting China, and levy additional sanctions on Russia for its ongoing aggression against Ukraine, indicate an intention to use various levers of U.S. power to compel China and Russia to negotiate on issues of high priority for Washington, while relying on the U.S. military to preserve “peace through strength.” Trump has also begun to assemble a relatively hawkish foreign policy team, with former Senator Marco Rubio (R-FL) as his secretary of state and Lt. Gen. Keith Kellogg (ret.) as special envoy for Ukraine.

However, the assumption that the Trump administration will be primarily focused on great power competition is challenged by the fact that many of Trump’s highest priority issues (judging by his early statements and policy moves) are domestically oriented, such as immigration, refugee resettlement, and internal governmental reforms. Furthermore, several of Trump’s early foreign policy initiatives pertain to allied countries and the Western Hemisphere, rather than adversaries per se. For example, he has already instigated tensions with U.S. allies Canada and Denmark over territorial and sovereignty issues, as well as Mexico and Panama over trade and security.

Trump has threatened to impose 25% tariffs on the United States’ closest neighbors and largest trading partners, Canada and Mexico, in apparent contravention of the United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement that Trump himself negotiated, and he has publicly pressured Canada to “become our 51st state” or else face increased tariffs. This public rift has the potential to do lasting harm to U.S.-Canada relations. Trump’s stated goal of taking control of Greenland, currently an overseas district of Denmark, sparked a tense exchange with Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen during their first phone call since Trump took office this year, leading to gestures of support for Denmark from European allies like France. Trump has also implicitly threatened to use military force to seize control of the Panama Canal.

Some observers argue that the Trump administration’s early focus on freezing government spending, encouraging federal employees to quit their jobs, and closing down government agencies like the U.S. Agency for International Development is intended to help get America’s house in order — to make the U.S. government more efficient and rebalance its trade relations to better position it for a sustained contest with peer and near-peer rivals. Conversely, others argue that these goals, and the specific ways in which the administration is pursuing them, will undermine the United States’ economic vitality, raising consumer prices, putting Americans out of work, and lowering many Americans’ standards of living; harm its relations with key allies and partners by introducing coercion, mistrust, and an expansionist foreign policy; and reduce its ability to build influence, peace, and prosperity around the world through foreign assistance.

Meanwhile, members of the Trump administration have explicitly attempted to frame their actions toward Panama and Greenland as pursuant to U.S. national security interests in the United States’ competition with China (and, implicitly, Russia). Although some issues, such as physical control of critical resources, trade routes, and vital waterways in those territories, may be indirectly linked to competition with Russia and China, a high level of attention and effort will be required for the Trump administration to achieve its stated goals. Efforts to wrest control of Greenland from Denmark or the Panama Canal from Panama are thus likely to distract the administration from pursuing policies more directly tied to competition with Russia and China. If the administration remains focused on renegotiating existing trade agreements, reshaping relations with U.S. allies and partners, and streamlining the U.S. federal bureaucracy, it might well be too busy fighting these new fires to worry about confrontation with Beijing and Moscow.

Conventional wisdom: The Europeans are uniquely incapable of providing for their own defense

The reality is that time has run out. Europeans will probably be forced to provide for their own defense if the United States takes a step back from protecting Europe — whether or not the Europeans believe they are ready to do so. Trump is moving toward pulling the U.S. military out of Europe — some sources say he has already proposed the withdrawal of 20,000 troops and for European states to help pay for remaining U.S. troops in Europe. These actions will put the assumption that Europeans are incapable of defending themselves to the test in real time. 

This assumption is particularly difficult to refute because, at least for a while, it was true. In the aftermath of World Wars I and II, the Europeans were uniquely incapable of defending themselves because the risk of intra-European conflict was too high. Lord Ismay, the first secretary general of NATO, was famously reported to have said the alliance was created to keep the “Soviet Union out, the Americans in, and the Germans down.” At that time, keeping the Germans down was a very real and necessary goal. However, from the founding of NATO in 1949 through today, as one issue that purportedly prevented the Europeans from building their own defense has seemingly been solved, another one arises.  

Today, those who argue that U.S. military involvement in Europe is necessary for the security of the continent attest that the Europeans cannot provide for their own defense because: 1.) There is not enough time; 2.) There is not enough money; and 3.) There is not enough consensus.  

The good news for Europeans is that these three roadblocks are wildly exaggerated. The Europeans have had time to prepare for providing their own defense since Trump’s first election, and have done so, albeit not as urgently as they should have. Nevertheless, mechanisms have been put in place to foster cooperation and increased defense investment. For example, the Coordinated Annual Review on Defence, launched in 2017, identifies areas where European Union states lack necessary capabilities, such as intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance; transportation; or aerial refueling. These needed capabilities are then researched and developed jointly by member states and funded by the European Defense Fund. Countries can then choose to procure these systems together, using the European Defense Industry Program, so they can ensure interoperability and lower costs by buying jointly. And, with all the right pieces in place, the European defense industry can grow quickly. Consider Ukraine, which saw parts of its defense industry grow 150% in just one year (from 2023 to 2024).  

The second argument — that there is not enough money — is also overstated. Although some European elites say that few countries on the continent have economies that are sufficiently robust to raise defense spending significantly — Trump reportedly wants NATO members to boost defense spending to 5% of gross domestic product (GDP) — that is untrue. Europe still consists of four of the world’s ten largest economies (including the United Kingdom); they could start spending like it.  

And last, the argument that there is not enough consensus might matter less than one would think. While NATO and the EU are consensus-driven, lack of defense investment from Portugal, for example, does not mean Germany is barred from investing in its own military. In reality, large individual military investments from a handful of states (Germany, France, and Italy) would matter much more than a consensus-driven benchmark that includes European states with much lower GDPs and smaller government budgets. Essentially, consensus does not matter as long as the big players pay. 

This leaves only a few missing pieces — difficult decisions that come with fostering a self-reliant security architecture. As former Italian Prime Minister Mario Draghi suggested in his report on “the future of European competitiveness,” one signal that Europeans are taking responsibility for their own defense and security would be the consolidation of defense producers. Another would be the reallocation of public funding. Even supranational entities like the European Commission could close loopholes that allow European countries to bypass intra-European defense spending targets.  

The only thing still needed for European defense-building to occur is either a significant shift of political will or courage from European leaders to do what is politically unpopular but necessary for the lasting security of the continent. Rather than cajole, barter, or lobby their way through the second Trump administration, Europeans can decide to fund the programs they have already put in place. By the end of 2025, the strategy that the Europeans choose will most likely be clear.  

Conventional wisdom: The War on Terror is over

In parallel with these measures, Trump has also sent a signal that the war on terrorism remains one of his top priorities, as it has been for previous administrations. On January 20, he signed two notable executive orders: one to “protect [U.S.] citizens from aliens who intend to commit terrorist attacks, threaten our national security, espouse hateful ideology, or otherwise exploit the immigration laws for malevolent purposes,” and the other to create “a process by which certain international cartels…and other organizations will be designated as Foreign Terrorist Organizations.” On January 31, the State Department also re-designated Cuba as a State Sponsor of Terrorism, just two weeks after the previous administration rescinded that classification. Then, on February 1, less than two weeks after taking office, Trump ordered strikes on Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) operatives in Somalia, and warned on Twitter/X that future such strikes were likely.

In short, the assumption that the Global War on Terror (GWOT) is over — or has been mostly displaced by Great Power Competition — has already been tested in 2025.

But Trump’s brand of GWOT does have some unique characteristics that connect to his domestic priorities. For example, he seems intent on integrating the war on terror into U.S. immigration policy, which involves both plans to curb illegal immigration and also reduce legal immigration.

Yet, whether these policies are constructive or counterproductive will be tested this year. For example, the reinstatement of Cuba as a State Sponsor of Terrorism — despite the absence of evidence indicating that the country sponsors any terrorist organizations — will continue the asphyxiation of the country’s economy and worsen its humanitarian crisis, likely driving more Cubans to attempt to immigrate to the United States.

Trump’s decision to designate certain drug cartels as Foreign Terrorist Organizations could be seen as merely an extension of existing counterterrorism policy. But not only does this give the administration the means to adopt extreme measures domestically, it also opens the door for interventions in foreign countries to combat the “infiltration [of cartels] into foreign governments across the Western Hemisphere.” In other words, it paves the way for destabilizing countries in Latin America and the Caribbean, which not only will impede the region’s prosperity, but will also likely backfire against U.S. interests, including by fueling more migration.

Lastly, the recent airstrikes in Somalia, Trump’s threat to “kill” ISIS, and the continuation of other U.S. counterterrorism policies — such as arms sales and the outdated Authorizations for Use of Military Force — suggest that the administration does not intend to shift U.S. strategy toward addressing the political, social, and economic roots of violent extremism. The halt of international assistance for development and humanitarian crises further confirms this assessment — although, surprisingly, security-sector assistance, a key element of U.S. counterterrorism strategy, is also included in the 90-day foreign assistance freeze.

Overlooking the continuation of the U.S. global war on terrorism leaves the field free for the Trump administration to, on the one hand, continue to implement policies that violate human rights on both U.S. and foreign soil and bend international and domestic law in the name of national security, while, on the other hand, silently continuing military operations overseas that will likely undermine others’ security.

To be sure, there should be a strong and regionally coordinated strategy to address the pervasive threat that drug cartels pose in the Western Hemisphere, solve the root causes of illegal immigration and violent extremism, and also provide countries a fair chance to prosper and grow. But these very real threats to human rights, economic development, and security and stability for all, should not be used as a cover to continue waging a war on terrorism throughout the world, which, during the past 24 years, has not only failed to demonstrate its effectiveness, but has arguably further fueled violent extremism.

Conventional wisdom: Protectionist economic policies will remain politically popular

The World Trade Organization has set relatively low tariff limits on most goods traded internationally. When a tariff is raised higher than this limit, international companies are forced to either “eat the cost” by artificially lowering their prices or by “passing the tariff on” by charging higher prices. The former approach is unsustainable because it means operating at a loss, unless the company can reduce costs, usually by lowering quality. The latter move is more likely, but this approach can make the company less competitive. The potential winners in this scenario are domestic companies that charge higher prices for the same imported goods, increasing their profits. The losers are the consumers, who have to pay a higher price or receive lower-quality products for the original price.

Proponents of higher tariffs seek to generate government revenue. But the loss to consumers is greater than the net benefit to local producers and the government. To maintain political popularity, the administration will have to convince consumers that their sacrifice is for the greater good of the country. This might include promises of re-shoring manufacturers, reducing trade imbalances, or emphasizing nationalistic themes such as “the extraordinary threat posed by illegal aliens and drugs, including deadly fentanyl.”

This narrative will be harder to maintain as the pain felt by U.S. consumers from the tariffs is compounded by other countries’ retaliation. For instance, during the first Trump administration, following a series of tariffs on Chinese goods, China implemented retaliatory trade barriers on imported agricultural goods from U.S. farmers who are dependent on the Chinese market. The administration bailed out these farmers with the revenue gained from the tariffs. If this is repeated during the second go-round, this will be not only unsustainable, including by negating anticipated revenue, it will be especially brutal if multiple countries retaliate, possibly attacking several industries at once. The anticipated carousel of tariff hikes and retaliation in the North America market alone demonstrates this.

Moreover, tariffs do not guarantee a redistribution of manufacturing. This is especially true if the tariffs are broad, affecting many industries. Although some companies might find it cheaper to move their businesses to the United States, most will encounter higher costs for building infrastructure and relocating. This redirects capital that could have been invested elsewhere — creating more losers and greater sunk costs (costs that have already been incurred and cannot be recovered). As broad tariffs make access to goods more expensive, the materials needed for production will become more expensive, further deterring companies from resettling in the United States. For example, lumber imported from Canada will be more expensive, putting pressure on housing development.

As the cost of living increases because goods are more expensive, pressure to increase wages is likely to ensue, increasing the cost of labor in the United States. Instead of facing all these financial risks, companies are likely to shift their production to an even cheaper location (i.e., a race to the bottom, running contrary to the intended effects of the tariffs — increasing domestic manufacturing). Moreover, selling to the U.S. market could become too expensive, forcing companies to seek other markets elsewhere. Ironically, this might lead companies to increase their trade with U.S. adversaries.

Rather than depending on taxes to reduce the deficit, the administration seeks to cut taxes and replace that lost revenue with tariffs. But relying on tariffs to generate government revenue makes the government more dependent on tariffs, rendering future administrations less capable of removing them. Countries affected by the tariffs will then see no point in trying to negotiate a trade deal; instead they will probably retaliate and shift to another market.

A 2019 Iowa State University study found that farmers who faced negative effects from Chinese retaliation still supported U.S. tariffs as “a short-term-pain/long-term-gain phenomenon” because the messaging indicated that the tariffs were for the greater good of managing US-China relations. This message loses credence when applied to countries like Canada or the United Kingdom, which generally have better bilateral relations with the United States than countries like China and cannot be as easily portrayed as rivals.

Threatening to raise tariffs increases the likelihood of retaliation. Therefore, the U.S. government needs to be prepared to lose face in the public’s eyes. There are always winners and losers in trade, but raising tariffs signals a lack of concern for the largest group — American consumers.

Conventional wisdom: “Acquisition reform” will fix the Pentagon’s procurement problems

Indeed, acquisition reform is a decades-old movement designed to boost corporate profits through deregulation. It relies on the assumption that the Pentagon is beyond repair — that the acquisition system is too complicated and that the U.S. government should essentially hand the reins on weapons development over to the arms industry. From this perspective, the Pentagon’s primary challenge is not better aligning budgets with defense strategy but granting the arms industry sufficient capital and leeway to “innovate” the United States’ way into future peace.

The problem with this mode of thinking is that its proponents assume that integrating new technology inherently strengthens national security and strategic stability. There is, however, significant evidence to the contrary. Rapid development and adoption of new military technologies exacerbates security dilemmas. Consider, for example, modernization of the nuclear triad — a herculean effort on the part of one major military contractor, Northrop Grumman (and its many subcontractors), at the cost of at least $1.7 trillion over three decades. This effort has prompted every other nuclear-armed state to likewise invest in the modernization of its nuclear arsenal.

Still, advocates of so-called acquisition reform argue that U.S. national security depends in part on the military’s ability to rapidly adopt new technologies. Ironically, technological complexity plagues the acquisition system. Its biggest failures are exquisite, expensive, technologically “advanced” weapon programs: the F-35 fighter jet, the Littoral Combat Ship, the Zumwalt-class destroyer, and more. Due to the military’s misplaced focus on rapid integration of new technologies, the requirements for weapons programs are increasingly broad in scope and logistically difficult to meet. Thus, these programs fail at the cost of trillions of taxpayer dollars over the course of their life cycles.

Advocates for acquisition reform then blame the bureaucracy. After all, they owe some of their political influence to support from the arms industry, which financially benefits from the Pentagon’s pursuit of technologically complex weapon systems — regardless of their strategic or military value. Sen. Roger Wicker (R- MS) is the prime example of such an acquisition reformer. He chairs the Senate Armed Services Committee and was the Senate’s largest recipient of campaign donations from military contractors in 2024.

Wicker promotes what he calls a “commercial-first” approach to weapons acquisition, urging the Pentagon to apply commercial procedures to all contracts. But commercial procedures do not require contractors to provide the Pentagon with accurate, complete, and timely cost and pricing data. This information is the single best tool that the Pentagon can use to ensure it is paying fair prices on military contracts.

Commercial procedures are acceptable and encouraged when contractors are selling products and services in substantial quantities to the public. In those cases, market dynamics drive down prices. However, just because products or services are designated as commercial does not mean that military contractors are selling them in substantial quantities to the public. The existing definition of commercial items is too broad. Lawmakers have gradually expanded it at the behest of the arms industry. Wicker encourages the Pentagon to consider all contracts commercial by default, using an artificially inclusive definition of the term.

The incentive for lawmakers is clear: deregulate weapons acquisition to the financial benefit of military contractors and protect one’s incumbency. Wicker obfuscates this political strategy by claiming that deregulation will “unleash innovation.” Indeed, this is the rationale for the senator’s proposal to make rapid acquisition pathways the rule rather than the exception in the acquisition process. He writes that “too many innovations fail to transition into production at scale.” But the so-called valley of death – the period between prototyping and production contracts – is a feature of the acquisition process, not a bug. The United States cannot possibly advance all weapon acquisition programs on expedited timelines, and it should not do so. The alternative to the valley of death is a mountain of failures.

Policymakers need to learn the lessons of past acquisition failures, not fast-track more of them by blaming the process. If policymakers implement a “commercial-first” approach to weapons acquisition, military contractors will charge the Pentagon whatever they want. Further normalization of rapid acquisition pathways will only make it more difficult for the Pentagon to keep programs on schedule and within budget. More important, increased use of rapid weapon acquisition pathways will inevitably produce more Pentagon waste while threatening strategic stability. Technology is not a silver bullet to solve complicated national security challenges, and acquisition “reform” is merely an attempt to expand corporate influence on defense policy.