In a move that has sent shockwaves through the corridors of power and the bars of Whitehall, the UK’s Trade Secretary has demanded ‘transatlantic alignment’ on tariffs targeting forced labour goods. Because nothing says ‘moral crusade’ like a synchronised tariff schedule with a nation that once tried to ban potatoes.
Let us pause to admire the sheer poetry of the phrase. ‘Transatlantic alignment.’ It conjures images of NATO battleships, or perhaps a cosmic ballet of trade negotiators pirouetting through the Doha round. In reality, it means the British government is frantically trying to keep in step with Washington’s latest obsession: slapping punitive tariffs on goods produced by people who weren’t given a choice. An admirable goal, to be sure. But let us not pretend this is about humanitarianism. This is about who gets to define what counts as ‘forced labour’ and who gets to profit from the ensuing chaos.
Here’s the game: The US has a list. The UK wants to be on the same page. But what page is that, exactly? Is it the page where we ban Uyghur cotton but continue to import chocolate from plantations where children work 18-hour days? Or the page where we signal virtue while global supply chains remain as opaque as a London fog? The Trade Secretary, a man whose name I shall not dignify with repetition, declares that ‘the UK and US share a commitment to eradicating forced labour.’ Splendid. Let us now examine the fine print: Does that commitment extend to the billions of pounds worth of goods from Xinjiang currently sitting in our ports? Or does it only apply when the cameras are rolling?
I am reminded, gentle reader, of a particularly potent gin I once sampled in a disused airport lounge. It tasted of despair and duty-free perfume. This trade alignment is much the same: a bitter cocktail of economic self-interest and performative outrage. The UK, desperate for a post-Brexit trade deal, will agree to almost anything that makes the US look friendly. The US, in turn, will use this alignment to justify its own protectionist impulses. At what point does a tariff on forced labour become a tariff on anything we don’t like? ‘Your steel is made by underpaid workers? Tariff. Your textiles are woven by people who didn’t sign a Union card? Tariff. Your wine was bottled by a man who looked at me funny? Tariff.’
And what of the actual victims, the ones whose labour is being exploited? They will not benefit from a tariff war. They will see their livelihoods destroyed when factories close, only to reopen in places with even less oversight. The Trade Secretary would have us believe that by aligning tariffs, we are striking a blow for freedom. In reality, we are striking a blow for the paperwork industry, because every tariff requires a new form, a new regulation, a new committee. The bureaucracy will be magnificent.
But I digress. The call for alignment is not without its comedic merits. Imagine the scene: The Trade Secretary on a call with his US counterpart, both of them nodding gravely about the importance of ‘shared values’ while their aides conduct frantic Google searches on what exactly forced labour means. ‘Is it forced if they pay you but you can’t leave?’ ‘Does it count if you’re a prisoner, but you get time off for good behaviour?’ ‘What about interns?’ The possibilities for farce are endless.
For now, the British public is asked to believe that this alignment is a good thing. That tariffs on cheap goods will somehow make our moral fibre stronger. I suspect the only fibre being strengthened is the one in the Chancellor’s wallet, as new trade barriers prop up domestic industries that haven’t been competitive since the Industrial Revolution. But never mind. We have alignment. We have a shared commitment. And soon, we shall have a shared hangover from the gin of hypocrisy.
Let the tariffs rain down like manna from heaven for the protectionist lobby. Let the Trade Secretary bask in the glow of transatlantic unity. And let the rest of us prepare for the inevitable: a world where every product comes with a certificate of virtue, and every nation points fingers at the other. Forced labour is a scourge, but tariff alignment is not a remedy. It is a distraction, a two-step shuffle towards a trade war dressed up as a moral crusade.
I shall now return to my gin, which I assure you was produced by happy, well-paid distillers who have never known a day of forced labour. Unless you count writing this column.
