The United States’ escalating tariffs and technology sanctions against China are increasingly seen not just as ad-hoc trade measures, but as part of a long-range strategy to economically decouple from China. The theory driving this strategy is simple: better to start disentangling the two economies now, deliberately, than to be forced into a chaotic rupture later by a military conflict. We will examine how a preemptive economic decoupling is meant to reduce U.S. vulnerabilities in a potential war, how it has spanned multiple administrations, and what its consequences are for both countries and the world.
Decouple Now Before War Decouples Us Violently
Proponents of this strategy argue that if the U.S. and China are likely headed toward confrontation (for example, over Taiwan), severing or reducing economic ties in advance could prevent even worse disruption later. In a shooting war, trade flows, technology sharing, and financial links could be abruptly cut off by force or sanctions. That scenario would be far more chaotic and damaging if nations haven’t prepared. Thus, the thinking goes, intentional decoupling now – through tariffs to re-shore supply chains and export controls to limit technology transfers – is a form of insurance. It readies the U.S. economy (and those of allies) to function without China in case of war, thereby mitigating the “economic Pearl Harbor” that a sudden rupture would cause.
This approach reflects a significant shift in U.S. policy. For decades, American strategy assumed economic integration with China would stabilize relations, under the theory that interdependence makes conflict too costly. However, as tensions have grown, a counterargument gained traction: that deep interdependence became a strategic liability – giving Beijing leverage and leaving the U.S. exposed if conflict breaks out. In fact, some analysts warn that undoing all ties might actually increase war risk by removing those costs (a point we return to later). But those favoring decoupling believe the deterrence value of commerce is now too weak, and controlled separation is the prudent path.
A Bipartisan Trajectory
It’s important to note that this strategic decoupling mindset evolved over time and across administrations. President Donald Trump’s first term (2017–2021) initiated the trade war with China, primarily framing tariffs as a response to unfair trade practices and job losses. Now in office again, the Trump administration continues to push aggressive tariffs and sanctions. However, the underlying strategic rationale had already begun to take shape during Trump’s first term and continued under President Joe Biden in the years between. Biden did not roll back Trump’s tariffs in any significant way; in fact, his administration largely maintained those tariffs as leverage and expanded the offensive on the technology front. In October 2022, for example, the Biden administration issued sweeping export controls on advanced semiconductors, explicitly aimed at hobbling China’s military modernization. This move – unprecedented in scope – effectively barred Chinese companies from obtaining cutting-edge AI chips or the equipment to make them, with the intent to freeze China’s progress in critical tech areas.
In public, U.S. leaders often described these actions in terms of economic fairness or national security protection. Trump sold tariffs as a way to protect American industries and punish Beijing for trade abuses. Biden officials spoke of “small yard, high fence” – targeting key technologies to safeguard security while minimizing impact on broader trade. Notably, they avoided directly telling Americans that these measures were preparation for a possible war. The result is a continuity of policy – tariffs and tech restrictions remained in force and even tightened – but without a clear public narrative about the potential conflict scenario driving it. Both administrations, in essence, have been acting on the decoupling logic without overtly naming it. This bipartisan trajectory suggests Washington’s strategic community coalesced around the China threat, even if messaging differed.
Economic Body Blows to China’s Economy
The economic damage these measures have dealt to China, especially at a time when China’s own economy is showing serious fragility. Tariffs, in particular, have hit Chinese exports and contributed to a wider slowdown. By 2023, China’s exports to the U.S. had dropped sharply as a share of its total trade – falling to the lowest level in decades. According to Chinese customs data, the U.S. accounted for only about 13% of China’s exports in 2023, down from ~22% before the trade war. In other words, China’s reliance on selling to the American market has been significantly reduced, in part because U.S. tariffs forced China to find other buyers or cut output. The flip side is also true: China’s share of U.S. imports fell to around 14%, from over 20% in 2017 as American companies diversified sourcing.
Chart: The United States remains China’s single largest export market – about 16% of China’s exports in 2024 – but dozens of other countries each take small percentages. This visualization of export share by country highlights that while China is diversifying its export destinations, no other market individually comes close to the U.S. in importance.
Crucially, this trade rupture is coinciding with major stresses in China’s domestic economy. China is grappling with a housing market crisis and even signs of deflation – rare problems for a country that once enjoyed red-hot growth. Home prices have collapsed from their peak, sales have halved, and real estate development has dropped by roughly one-third since 2021
The property slump has been a huge drag on China’s growth, eroding consumer confidence and pushing the economy to “the brink of a deflationary spiral,” as one analysis noted, with six consecutive quarters of falling overall prices by late 2023. This means China has essentially no inflation – a sign of weak demand. Factories have surplus capacity and are cutting prices, producer prices were negative for two years straight.
Why does this matter for the tariff strategy? It means China’s economy is vulnerable. With its real estate engine stalled out, China has relied even more on exports and government stimulus to prop up growth. Tariffs strike at that export lifeline at a very vulnerable moment. Chinese commentators have begun describing Washington’s expanded tariffs as a near “all-round blockade” aimed at stifling China’s growth. And indeed, analysts forecast that the latest tariff escalations could knock a full percentage point or more off China’s GDP growth, worsening its deflationary pressures
One Chinese finance professor concluded that with these external hits, “China cannot get out of this deflationary situation anytime soon”, and the government’s modest ~5% growth target may now be impossible.
In short, the tariffs and related export bans are doing real damage: squeezing Chinese factory orders, driving manufacturers to move out of China or even close, and deepening the strain on an economy already contending with burst property bubbles and weak consumer spending. Beijing has had to consider new stimulus and other measures to fight these headwinds
From Washington’s strategic viewpoint, this economic pain is not just a bargaining chip for trade negotiations – it is part of weakening a potential adversary’s base. A slower, financially strained China would have fewer resources to throw into military expansion or to cushion itself in a war scenario.
Tech Sanctions: Choking Off Semiconductors and Defense Technology
Another prong of the U.S. decoupling strategy is the technology embargo. If tariffs target China’s economic might broadly, tech sanctions aim at the heart of its future power: cutting-edge semiconductors, AI, telecommunications, and other high-end tech that could provide military or strategic advantage. The U.S. has progressively tightened the noose on China’s access to these critical technologies.
Under President Biden (and continuing now), the Commerce Department unleashed strict export controls on semiconductors in late 2022. These rules prohibit companies worldwide from selling China the most advanced chips (especially those used for AI and supercomputing) if they are made with U.S. tools or software – which effectively covers all leading chips. The October 7, 2022 policy was described as “a sweeping set of export controls” designed to “restrain Chinese military modernization”. It not only bans top-tier AI chips (like certain Nvidia GPUs) to China, but also the equipment and software China would need to manufacture its own advanced chips. The U.S. has leaned on allies (like the Netherlands and Japan) to align their policies so that China cannot simply turn to Dutch lithography machines or Japanese semiconductor materials as a workaround. The end goal is to block China’s path to the cutting-edge in silicon technology for as long as possible, forcing a years- or decades-long delay in capabilities such as advanced fighter jet avionics, AI-driven intelligence systems, and high-performance computing for military applications.
These tech measures go beyond chips. The U.S. has also sanctioned Chinese tech champions like Huawei and ZTE, cutting them off from U.S.-made components and software. Huawei – once poised to dominate global 5G networks – saw its smartphone business crippled after losing access to Google’s Android and advanced chips; its global 5G contracts also suffered under U.S. pressure on allies. Dozens of Chinese firms have been placed on the Entity List (banning U.S. exports to them) due to connections with the People’s Liberation Army or surveillance of Uyghurs. And most recently, Washington banned approvals for exports of U.S.-made quantum computing tech and certain AI software to China. For its part, Beijing calls these “technology containment” tactics, accusing the U.S. of trying to thwart China’s development unfairly. But from the U.S. perspective, it’s about denying an authoritarian rival the tools to gain military and strategic superiority.
The immediate effect is that China’s tech sector is feeling a choke-hold. High-end chip design firms in China can’t get the latest fabrication of their designs; cutting-edge research that needs powerful AI chips is hampered; and defense industries must make do with older-generation semiconductors. By decoupling supply chains in these critical areas, the U.S. hopes to slow China’s military AI, missile guidance, encryption, and other tech-based military advancements by years. Indeed, internal Chinese assessments reportedly show concern that they may be stuck several generations behind in chips if these restrictions persist. In essence, the U.S. is trying to ensure that if conflict comes, it won’t be facing a peer equipped with equally advanced tech – instead, China would be dealing with chip shortages and lagging tech.
Rising Tension: Chinese Military Posturing as the Backdrop
These U.S. actions are not happening in a vacuum. They come amid increasingly aggressive military posturing by China, which forms the backdrop and justification for the decoupling strategy. American policymakers see a pattern of Chinese behavior that suggests Beijing is preparing for potential conflict – especially over Taiwan – and thus feel the U.S. must prepare too.
Trend: Chinese military aircraft incursions into Taiwan’s ADIZ have surged since 2020. In 2021, about 972 incursions were recorded; in 2022, over 1,700 were recorded (a 79% jump)
One vivid metric is the surge in Chinese military flights around Taiwan’s airspace in recent years. Taiwan’s Defense Ministry began regularly reporting People’s Liberation Army aircraft incursions into its Air Defense Identification Zone (ADIZ) in 2020, and the numbers have exploded. In 2021, Taiwanese radar tracked roughly 970 Chinese military aircraft incursions into its ADIZ. By 2022, that number jumped to 1,738 incursions – nearly double the previous year. The tempo remained high in 2023, with around 1,700 incursions again, and then over 2,000 incursions in just the first nine months of 2024. These flights include fighter jets, bombers (sometimes nuclear-capable H-6 bombers), surveillance planes, and even drones. They often cross the unofficial “median line” of the Taiwan Strait or probe Taiwan’s southern ADIZ in combat formations. Taiwan has to scramble its own jets or monitor them, straining its resources. Each incident is a message – demonstrating Chinese air force reach and wearing down Taiwanese readiness. The pace remained high in 2023 and further increased in 2024. This steady rise in airspace violations illustrates the growing pressure Beijing is exerting on Taiwan and the region.
Alongside the aircraft, the presence of Chinese warships has grown in sensitive areas. Over the past few years, China has routinely sailed carrier strike groups near Taiwan and through strategic choke points in the region. The Chinese navy (PLAN) now “harbors” warships in new places – establishing a more permanent or forward presence. A striking example is the first-ever overseas naval base for China, in Cambodia: at the Ream Naval Base on the Gulf of Thailand, Chinese navy ships have been docked for months on end. Satellite imagery revealed two PLAN warships moored at a newly built pier there continuously through early 2024 – despite official denials – confirming suspicions of a Chinese military foothold abroad. China has also made port calls or sought access in places like Sri Lanka, the Solomon Islands, and the Middle East, signaling an intent to project power far from home waters.
Beijing’s militarization of the South China Sea – fortifying artificial islands with runways and missiles – is another aspect of this posturing. And Chinese forces have become more brazen in intercepting U.S. and allied aircraft and vessels operating in the East and South China Seas, raising the risk of accidents or clashes. All of these behaviors point to a more assertive Chinese military, one that is probing its neighbors and preparing for potential showdowns. From the U.S. standpoint, these are precisely the warning signs that conflict is becoming more likely, and that the U.S. must harden itself – economically and militarily – in advance. The theory is that decoupling now reduces how much leverage China’s aggressive moves can gain. If the U.S. is less economically exposed, it may have more freedom of action to respond to, say, a Chinese naval blockade of Taiwan, without worrying that Beijing could tank the U.S. economy in retaliation.
It’s a dangerous cat-and-mouse dynamic: U.S. economic sanctions hit China, partly in response to China’s military behavior – and China’s military behavior intensifies in response to feeling encircled by the U.S. and its allies. The risk of miscalculation grows in such an environment, which is why some argue both sides should be finding off-ramps. But for now, Washington’s policy is to meet growing Chinese belligerence with increased economic and military preparedness.
War Game Wake-Up Calls: Is the U.S. Ready?
Another factor informing the decoupling push is the sobering insight from war games and defense analyses that have tested U.S. readiness for a conflict with China. Numerous simulations of a war over Taiwan have revealed serious shortcomings in the U.S. and allied ability to sustain a prolonged fight – particularly one fought in Asia, far from U.S. industrial centers. These findings have spurred efforts to build resilience now, not later.
For instance, a high-profile series of war games conducted by the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in 2022 ran through dozens of Taiwan invasion scenarios. The results: in most scenarios the U.S.-Taiwan coalition could repel a full-scale Chinese invasion but at tremendous cost – including the loss of multiple U.S. aircraft carriers and tens of thousands of casualties. A common thread was that the U.S. would run dangerously low on critical munitions within weeks. In fact, one CSIS war game report found the U.S. would exhaust its inventory of long-range precision-guided missiles (like ship-killing missiles and air-launched cruise missiles) in less than one week of high-intensity combat
The U.S. has simply not been producing these missiles (expensive and only used in war) at anywhere near the rate a major war would consume them. This mirrors real-world lessons from Ukraine, where even a medium-intensity land war has burned through Western ammunition stockpiles quickly.
Defense analysts have rung alarm bells that the U.S. defense-industrial base is not prepared for a great-power war. Factories would need months or years to crank out replenishments for advanced missiles, and in the interim the U.S. might literally run out of the weapons needed to hit Chinese ships or bases. These shortfalls cast doubt on the U.S.’s ability to credibly fight a long war in the Western Pacific. As one Heritage Foundation study bluntly noted, “wargames have repeatedly shown that the U.S. will run out of critical munitions only eight days into a high-intensity conflict with China over Taiwan”
Why does this tie into economic decoupling? Because the prospect of an intense war also highlights how disastrous such a war would be – and thus why avoiding it (or at least delaying it until the U.S. is better prepared) is paramount. A direct U.S.-China war would likely “wipe out significant portions of the U.S. and Chinese militaries”, kill large numbers of people, potentially expand across the region, and cause “massive economic disruptions” globally.
Some scenarios even consider escalation to nuclear strikes – truly a worst-case. No one wants to get to that point. Deterrence is key: the U.S. wants to dissuade China from ever attempting force in the first place. Part of deterrence is military (stationing more forces, arming allies like Japan and the Philippines, etc.), but part is also showing that the U.S. can economically withstand a conflict. If China perceives that the U.S. is too economically dependent – for instance, if a conflict would collapse the U.S. supply of critical goods or collapse its financial markets – that could undermine deterrence by tempting Beijing to think the U.S. wouldn’t actually intervene. By contrast, if the U.S. has “hardened” its economy (through decoupling) and stockpiled or secured alternative sources for vital products, it can more credibly stand up to Chinese coercion.
In summary, the war games are a wake-up call: they underscore both how ugly a U.S.-China war could be and how the U.S. must urgently prepare. Economic measures – tariffs, tech bans, reshoring manufacturing – are thus seen as part of the larger readiness effort, complementing the military side. It’s about ensuring that if diplomacy fails and conflict comes, the U.S. isn’t trading New York for Taipei with one hand tied behind its back economically.
Taiwan at the Center
Nearly all of these strategic threads converge on Taiwan, which is the most likely flashpoint for a U.S.-China war and a place of outsized strategic importance. Taiwan is central to this story in two ways: its geography and its technology (semiconductors). Both factors make it a high-value prize and a potential trigger for conflict, which in turn drives U.S. policy.
From a geography standpoint, Taiwan is often described as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier” sitting squarely in the First Island Chain off China’s coast. It is literally the midpoint of that island chain arc that runs from Japan down through the Philippines. If Taiwan remains outside of Beijing’s control (effectively allied with the U.S. and its partners), it serves as a critical barrier to Chinese military expansion. U.S. and allied forces, operating from Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, etc., could contain the Chinese navy within the Western Pacific. However, if Beijing were to take Taiwan (by force or coercion), it would punch a huge hole in that first island chain. China could then project power outward – stationing ships and aircraft on Taiwan – and directly threaten Japan’s southern flank, dominate the Taiwan Strait, and extend its reach toward Guam and beyond. In the words of one analysis, Taiwan is of “critical strategic importance” in the first island chain. It’s essentially a gatekeeper to the Pacific and a buffer for U.S. allies. This explains why China’s military has made Taiwan the focal point of its planning (and those ADIZ flights and naval drills), and conversely why U.S. defense strategy in Asia is so Taiwan-focused.
Equally important is Taiwan’s role in the global semiconductor industry, which makes it an economic linchpin. Taiwan produces a massive proportion of the world’s most advanced microchips – the tiny brains that power smartphones, data centers, advanced weapons, and AI systems. In fact, Taiwan (mainly through one company, TSMC) fabricates over 90% of the world’s cutting-edge chips (the smallest, fastest chips) even across all types of semiconductors, Taiwan accounts for more than 60% of global output.
These chips are in everything, and many U.S. (and Chinese) companies depend on TSMC’s foundries. This makes Taiwan’s stability a vital economic interest to the entire developed world. If a war disrupted Taiwan’s chip production, industries from automotive to consumer electronics could grind to a halt, and replacing that capacity would take years and hundreds of billions of dollars (efforts are underway to build more chip fabs in the U.S. and elsewhere, but they’re nowhere near replacing Taiwan yet).
Taiwan’s semiconductor dominance is actually a double-edged sword in the decoupling logic. On one hand, it motivates protecting Taiwan even more (because losing those chips would be devastating). On the other hand, it highlights how dependent the U.S. is on an island 100 miles from China’s coast – which is part of why U.S. policy now pushes to on-shore or “friend-shore” some of that capability. The CHIPS Act of 2022, for instance, is pouring subsidies into new chip plants in America to reduce reliance on East Asia. It ties into decoupling by saying: we must reduce dependency on any single point of failure (be it an adversary country like China or even a friendly-but-exposed place like Taiwan).
Beijing, of course, is well aware of Taiwan’s chip leverage too – some speculate China could be deterred from wrecking Taiwan’s infrastructure because it wants those fabs intact (“silicon shield” theory). Regardless, Taiwan sits at the nexus of the economic and military factors: U.S. tariffs and tech bans are partially intended to constrain China until and unless it renounces any forcible unification with Taiwan. And U.S. support for Taiwan (arms sales, diplomatic visits) further fuels China’s hostility, which then justifies more U.S. decoupling. The island’s fate is thus a core reason why Washington is willing to rock the boat with Beijing economically. The implicit message: if you threaten to invade a democratic linchpin of the global economy, we will not continue business-as-usual with you.
Paying the Price at Home – But War Would Be Worse
All these strategic moves are not without costs to the United States itself. Tariffs and decoupling are painful – especially to U.S. consumers and companies – and American policymakers are effectively asking the public to bear those costs now as a trade-off against the much larger costs of a potential war later. It’s a classic case of short-term pain for (hopefully) long-term gain.
Start with tariffs: multiple economic studies have shown that the tariffs on Chinese goods (25% tariffs on roughly $300+ billion of imports, as imposed in 2018–2019) largely behaved like a tax on U.S. consumers. Importers faced higher costs and passed them on. One detailed analysis estimated that American firms and consumers bore almost the entire burden of the tariffs, with an annual net loss of about $16 billion to the U.S. economy as a result. That study found over $110 billion in higher costs for U.S. buyers, somewhat offset by increased revenue to the U.S. Treasury and gains for protected U.S. producers.
In practical terms, this means higher prices for everyday products – from electronics to apparel – and squeezed profit margins for U.S. manufacturers using imported components. Another estimate by the Tax Foundation found the initial trade-war tariffs reduced U.S. GDP by ~0.25% and cost hundreds of thousands of jobs relative to if trade had remained free. In short, American households pay more at the checkout line because of these tariffs, acting as an invisible sacrifice. As of 2025, Trump’s new round of tariffs (if fully implemented) would raise the average tariff on all imports to nearly 19% – the highest since 1933 – and effectively a tax increase of over $2,000 per U.S. household per year
Policymakers are aware of this pain. But the argument they make (implicitly, if not always explicitly) is that it pales in comparison to the cost of a shooting war. One can think of it this way: paying a bit more for, say, a washing machine today is better than rationing critical goods or suffering an economic depression caused by a conflict with China in the future. A war would likely spur far greater inflation and economic shock than a tariff ever could. For example, if a Taiwan war erupted, the global economy could lose trillions of dollars. The International Monetary Fund warned that a full US-China decoupling could shave 7% off global GDP long-term – that’s roughly $7+ trillion in lost output, akin to wiping out the economies of France and Germany combined. A war would arguably be even more disruptive than a mere decoupling scenario, potentially causing a global depression. The calculus is that the upfront costs (tariffs, reshoring, etc.) are an investment in security, much like defense spending. It’s spending economic capital now to avoid spending blood and treasure later.
There’s also a moral argument sometimes made: why should U.S. consumers fund China’s rise if that rise might culminate in aggression? Tariffs and selective boycotts serve to financially starve a potential foe. Every dollar not spent on an import from China is a dollar less fueling China’s military expansion or bolstering its state capacity – at least in theory. During the Cold War, similar arguments were made about trade with the Soviet Union (though the Soviet economy was far less intertwined with the West than China’s is today).
Yet, the U.S. is not blind to the fact that decoupling imposes costs on itself beyond just higher consumer prices. Supply chain reorientation can cause short-term disruptions and require significant capital – building new factories, finding new suppliers (often in other developing countries like Vietnam, Mexico, India). U.S. companies also lose a lucrative market: China’s 1.4 billion consumers. If China retaliates (and it has, with its own tariffs and sanctions on U.S. goods and companies), American exporters from farmers to entertainment firms suffer. So there are American jobs on the line as well in this decoupling process.
However, the counterpoint from a strategic view is that the cost of not decoupling could be far higher in the long run. If the U.S. remained deeply dependent on China and war broke out, the economic fallout could be catastrophic – imagine the supply of antibiotics (a large share of which are made in China) being cut off, or major U.S. tech companies losing their manufacturing base overnight. The COVID-19 pandemic gave a small taste of supply chain disruptions, and that wasn’t even deliberate sabotage. War-driven cutoffs would be much worse. Thus, decoupling advocates argue that some economic inefficiency or inflation now is worth the price if it averts a strategic catastrophe later.
Global Ripples
It’s important to acknowledge that this decoupling-before-war strategy carries major risks and complexities of its own. It is not a cost-free insurance policy, and in some ways it might even backfire:
- Impact on Global Development: China’s integration into the world economy over the past 30 years has been a huge engine of global growth and poverty reduction. Globalization involving China lifted hundreds of millions of people (in China and elsewhere) out of poverty by creating affordable goods and new markets. Unraveling these ties could slow global growth and harm developing countries the most. The IMF estimates that long-term fragmentation into U.S. vs China blocs could cut 7% off global GDP, with developing economies hit hardest. Many poorer nations benefited from Chinese trade or investment; they now might suffer collateral damage from the big powers’ economic divorce. For example, if Chinese demand for commodities drops due to its slowed economy, African and Latin American exporters suffer. Decoupling might also reduce collaboration on global challenges like climate change, where Chinese factories produce green technology used worldwide.
- Strategic Risks of Overreach: There is a genuine debate over whether decoupling will prevent war or possibly make it more likely. One school of thought holds that deep economic interdependence deters conflict – when both sides have skin in the game, they think twice about fighting. By that logic, rapidly severing ties could remove a key brake on war. As one expert put it, breaking the complex economic interdependence that has helped foster growth “would increase the likelihood of military conflict”, not lessen it. We may be transitioning from mutually beneficial trade to what some call “mutually assured disruption” – a state where each side has less to lose economically from war, paradoxically making war more conceivable. This is hotly contested: optimists say China’s Communist Party was never going to be swayed by economic ties when it comes to core sovereignty issues, so interdependence had outlived its use. But it’s a risk nonetheless.
- Global Economic Order at Stake: The U.S.-led sanctions and decoupling could spur the formation of rival economic blocs, undermining the open global trading system. Already we see talk of the “free world” aligning its supply chains, while China and Russia try to build their own networks. Decoupling might thus accelerate a kind of new Cold War bifurcation of the world economy. That carries long-term risks: efficiency losses, innovation slowdowns (tech ecosystems split apart), and difficulties in global governance. For example, will there be two separate technological standards for 5G/6G, two internets, two parallel financial systems? Some of that is already happening (China’s digital yuan vs. the dollar system, etc.). Once started, this fragmentation could be hard to reverse, locking in antagonism.
In weighing these tradeoffs, U.S. policymakers have to balance security versus economic strength. They are essentially prioritizing national and allied security over the previous paradigm of global economic integration. It is a profound shift. Even many who agree China poses a threat feel uneasy about how far decoupling goes. Ideally, a calibrated approach (“de-risking” as the EU calls it, instead of full decoupling) could limit trade in strategic sectors but keep engagement in others. The U.S. says that’s what it’s doing – not seeking total rupture, just a partial one. Yet from Beijing’s perspective, the actions feel very broad. How the world navigates this transition will be a defining story of our time.
The Communication Gap: Explaining the Why (or Not)
One final critique of the U.S. strategy is that Washington has struggled to clearly explain the China risk – and the purpose of these economic sacrifices – to the American public. Politically, the tariffs were often sold as tough bargaining to get a “better deal” from China or to bring back jobs, rather than as war preparedness. Likewise, export controls were explained in technocratic terms about “national security” and “fair competition” rather than openly stating “we are preparing for a possible conflict with China.” This lack of forthright explanation leaves the public somewhat in the dark about the true stakes.
Americans certainly recognize that relations with China have soured and that China is viewed as a leading threat by their government. Polls show unfavorable views of China at record highs. However, the nuance of the decoupling strategy – decouple now to mitigate war later – is not a common talking point from the White House or Congress. It remains more in the realm of think-tank reports and strategic forums. The Trump administration’s messaging in its trade war focused on economic grievances (trade deficits, jobs stolen, China’s WTO violations). The Biden administration, while framing China as the “pacing challenge,” tended to use the word “competition” and avoided overly alarming rhetoric; it emphasized that the U.S. was not seeking conflict. Both administrations, therefore, downplayed the immediacy of the war threat in public messaging.
The result is a kind of mismatch between policy and public narrative. Policies are being driven by hard security logic, but the public justification is often economic populism or vague references to “supply chain resilience.” This may be a deliberate choice to maintain calm and avoid inflaming public fear or anti-Chinese sentiment. Yet it also has downsides: without a clear explanation, the American people can’t fully evaluate or debate the strategy. They feel the pinch of tariffs (or higher defense budgets, or fewer cheap goods) but haven’t been explicitly told by leaders, “We are doing this so that if tomorrow a war starts over Taiwan, we will be ready and China will be weaker.” Arguably, democracy works best with transparency – if the U.S. is essentially entering a long-term cold war-like posture, citizens should know why and what the endgame is.
Some analysts argue that building public support for this approach is crucial. If sacrifices are needed, the populace needs to understand the necessity. During WWII and the Cold War, U.S. leaders famously gave candid speeches about the challenges of the era (think Churchill’s “Iron Curtain” speech or JFK addressing the Cuban Missile Crisis). In the current context, the American public hears about Chinese balloons, spy chips, TikTok bans, etc., in a piecemeal way. But they haven’t heard a comprehensive doctrine from the President explaining the “decouple to deter war” idea in plain terms. Perhaps this is because openly saying so would exacerbate tensions – a catch-22. Nonetheless, historians may later fault the U.S. government for failing to prepare its citizens rhetorically and psychologically for a protracted, costly rivalry that could shape their lives.
Logic and Risks
The U.S. tariffs and tech sanctions against China can be understood as part of a broader strategic logic: reducing entanglement now in anticipation of potential conflict later. The rationale intertwines economic, military, and moral considerations. By decoupling supply chains and denying critical technologies, the U.S. aims to slow China’s rise, weaken its capabilities, and insulate itself and allies from coercion – thereby hopefully deterring Beijing from military adventurism in the first place. If deterrence fails, the U.S. would enter a conflict with less economic exposure and a China already softened by years of restricted growth. This approach has been carried forward across administrations, even if not always explicitly acknowledged.
However, this strategy is not without significant drawbacks. It imposes real costs on the U.S. and global economy, and it risks accelerating the very clash it seeks to forestall by fostering a spiral of hostility. It also marks a departure from the decades-long U.S. stance of engagement, venturing into uncertain territory. Will decoupling truly bolster peace, or will it create self-fulfilling tensions? That remains an open question. What is clear is that both Washington and Beijing are bracing for a more adversarial era. The tariffs and sanctions are tools in that power contest – blunt, economic weapons meant to serve geopolitical ends.
As citizens and observers, understanding the strategic calculus here is crucial. This is not simply a trade tiff about soybean sales or who makes our iPhones. It’s about an emerging great power rivalry and radically different visions of the future international order. The U.S. government, in choosing tariffs and tech bans, has essentially said that preserving a favorable balance of power and values is worth the price of economic friction. Whether that bet pays off – preventing war or, at least, mitigating its worst outcomes – will be judged by history. For now, the world watches two giants decouple in slow motion, hoping that in pulling apart they do not ultimately crash into each other.
Sources: The analysis is informed by a range of defense and economic assessments. Chinese military air incursions data from 2021–2024 show a steep rise, nearly doubling from 972 to 1,738 annual incursions after 2020
fpri.org. U.S. war game analyses indicate American forces could run out of critical long-range missiles within a week of a Taiwan conflict, underscoring readiness gaps
features.csis.org. Taiwan’s semiconductor dominance (over 90% of advanced chip production) highlights its strategic importance
economist.com. Economic studies found U.S. tariffs largely hurt U.S. consumers, causing an estimated $16 billion annual loss to the U.S. economy
taxfoundation.org, yet experts argue these costs are minor next to a potential war’s impact, which could disrupt trillions in GDP
foreignpolicy.com. Meanwhile, China’s economic strains – from a housing crash (sales down 50%+ from peak) to deflation – make it particularly susceptible to export and tech sanctions
reuters.com. Beijing’s own share of exports going to the U.S. hit a 40-year low (~13% in 2023) after the trade war
voronoiapp.com, reflecting a forced decoupling already underway. All these pieces form the puzzle of why the U.S. is taking such unprecedented actions against China’s economy. The logic is clear, even if the outcome is uncertain: better to risk an economic cold war now than to face a hot war unprepared.
