Bedassa Tadesse, University of Minnesota Duluth

On Saturday, Feb. 1, 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump announced a plan to slap steep tariffs on imports from key American trading partners – 25% on goods from Mexico and Canada and 10% on imports from China. His stated reason? To curb illegal immigration and drug trafficking.

Both Mexico and Canada managed to buy some time. After urgent phone calls with Trump on Feb. 3, their leaders each secured a one-month reprieve. But Mexico’s Claudia Sheinbaum and Canada’s Justin Trudeau also made it clear to their U.S. counterpart: If these tariffs go through, they’ll hit back with their own trade restrictions. The world is watching the opening moves of what could become another costly trade war.

As a professor of economics, I can explain why this poses significant risks to the U.S. economy and American consumers. Economic theory suggests that tariffs distort market efficiency, raising production costs while limiting consumer choice and increasing prices.

Who really pays for tariffs?

While politicians often frame tariffs as a way to punish other countries, they actually hit domestic consumers and businesses hardest. Whether they’re facing higher grocery bills or disruptions in manufacturing, Americans will feel the strain.

When tariffs are imposed, companies must either absorb the additional costs – cutting into profits and potentially threatening jobs – or pass these costs to consumers through higher prices. Small businesses operating on thin profit margins are particularly vulnerable, as many lack the resources to quickly switch suppliers.

Tariffs trigger costly retaliation

Worse yet, such measures commonly set off a cycle of retaliation. During past trade disputes involving the U.S., affected nations have responded with counter-tariffs on American products, including textiles, steel and agricultural goods. Such retaliatory efforts have led to sharp declines in U.S. exports.

During the first Trump administration, for example, China imposed retaliatory tariffs on U.S. agricultural exports. As a result, the U.S. farmers lost billions of dollars, and the U.S. spent billions in government aid to offset those losses. China has already issued new tariffs on imports of U.S. goods and export controls on some of its exports to the U.S. to retaliate for Trump’s current move.

History also shows that trade wars are self-defeating. The Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act of 1930, which imposed tariffs on over 20,000 imported goods, prompted swift retaliation from trading partners and contributed to deepening the Great Depression.

Modern trade wars have other consequences

Modern trade wars hit closer to home than most Americans realize. The recent tariff threat against Colombia reveals why. In 2023, Colombian farmers supplied US$1.14 billion worth of fresh-cut flowers to U.S. florists. In a near-crisis that lasted a weekend, Trump threatened to slap steep tariffs on the South American nation, right when flower shops across America were stocking up for one of their busiest seasons: Valentine’s Day.

The same tariffs would have hit Colombian coffee too, affecting everything from neighborhood cafes to grocery store prices. This shows how modern trade disputes can instantly disrupt the everyday purchases Americans make.

Other key trading partners, including the European Union, have also come into the crosshairs. On Jan. 30, 2025, the president issued a stark warning to Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa – the so-called BRICS nations – threatening 100% tariffs if they continued efforts to reduce reliance on the U.S. dollar as their reserve currency.

These threats can do more than alienate strategic partners; they risk accelerating dedollarization – pushing nations to develop alternative financial systems that weaken U.S. influence in global trade.

A more effective approach

Beyond causing immediate economic pain, constant tariff threats risk damaging America’s credibility as a reliable trading partner. The U.S. helped establish the rules-based international trading system, but regular tariff threats erode global trust and push trading partners to seek alternatives to the U.S. market.

The reality is clear: No country in the modern era has successfully used tariffs to grow its economy or improve the well-being of its people. The countries that are most dependent on tariff revenues for their national budgets are among the world’s poorest and least developed economies.

I believe the path to maintaining America’s economic leadership lies in embracing a smarter, more strategic trade policy – one that builds alliances instead of breaking them. A strategy that prioritizes negotiation, fosters innovation and enhances competitiveness – and that doesn’t rely on protectionist tactics more often used by developing nations – would strengthen cooperation and stability, ensuring long-term economic prosperity.

Bedassa Tadesse, Professor of Economics, University of Minnesota Duluth

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Jennifer Van Hook, Penn State

Undocumented immigration is a key issue in American politics, but it can be hard to nail down the basic facts about who these immigrants are, where they live and how their numbers have changed in the past few decades.

I study the demographics of the U.S. immigrant population and have seen how the data has changed over time. Here are some basics to set the stage as President Donald Trump begins his second term in office vowing to crack down hard on immigrants, including by conducting mass deportations.

Immigration status

My analysis of the Census Bureau’s 2023 American Community Survey data, in collaboration with the Migration Policy Institute, a nonpartisan nonprofit immigration research group, finds that as of the middle of 2023, approximately 51 million foreign-born people lived in the United States.

Most immigrants are in the U.S. legally. About 49% have become U.S. citizens by a process known as naturalization. Another 19% hold lawful permanent resident status and are eligible to become U.S. citizens through naturalization. Still another 5% are in the country on temporary visas, like those for international students, diplomats and their families, and seasonal or temporary workers.

The remaining 27% – around 13.7 million people – are outside those categories and therefore generally considered to be undocumented.

My analysis shows that the number of undocumented immigrants held steady at around 11 million between 2007 and 2019. In the next four years, the numbers increased by nearly 3 million. This recent growth is mostly attributable to large increases in border crossings by migrants from Central and South America who were seeking asylum or other forms of humanitarian relief. Starting in June 2024, however, the number of people entering across the U.S.-Mexico border fell back to normal levels when the Biden administration implemented the Secure the Border rule, which suspends asylum applications at the border when crossings reach a seven-day average of 2,500.

These changes were accompanied by changes in the undocumented migration process itself. In the past, undocumented immigrants often entered the country by slipping undetected across the U.S. border with Mexico. But increased border enforcement made the journey more dangerous and expensive.

Instead of paying smugglers or risking their lives in the desert, growing numbers of undocumented immigrants now either directly approach immigration officials at airports or land-border crossings and seek asylum in the U.S. Others are initially admitted to the country legally on a temporary tourist, student or work visa – but then overstay the time period for which they have permission.

Additionally, growing numbers of undocumented immigrants occupy what might be called a “liminal” or “in-between” status. The Migration Policy Institute analysis estimates this encompasses a range of groups as of the middle of 2023, including:

• About 2.1 million people awaiting a decision on their asylum claims.
• 521,000 parolees, allowed into the U.S. for humanitarian or national security reasons, like those paroled recently from Afghanistan and Ukraine.
• 654,000 people who hold temporary protected status because it would be unsafe for them to return home due to armed conflict, natural disasters and other emergencies.
• 562,000 who are protected by the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program because they were brought to the United States as children by their parents.

The report estimates that just over one-quarter of undocumented immigrants currently occupy this type of “in-between” status. These immigrants are protected from deportation. Some even have a legal right to work in the U.S. Yet they do not possess a durable legal immigration status, and their rights could be threatened by policy changes.

While Trump says he wants to deport as many as 11 million immigrants, analyses published by The New York Times and The Washington Post indicate that it may be difficult to remove many of them under existing U.S. law. The one group that is easy to remove – those with a criminal record – is relatively small, numbering about 650,000.

Shifting countries of origin

Since 1980, Mexicans have been the largest single national origin group in the United States. I found that 10.9 million Mexican-born individuals were living in the country in 2023, making up 23% of all immigrants. The second-largest group, immigrants from India, numbered just 2.9 million, or 6% of all immigrants living in the U.S.

However, immigrants’ origins have been shifting away from Mexico.

With the onset of the Great Recession of 2007-2009, work opportunities in U.S. construction and manufacturing evaporated. Many Mexican laborers had been working in construction at the time but went back to Mexico when the U.S. housing market collapsed.

At that same time, Mexico’s economic conditions improved, its population growth slowed, and many would-be migrants opted to stay home. For the first time in decades, from 2007 to 2022 the number of Mexicans who returned home exceeded the number coming to the United States.

This trend was especially pronounced among undocumented immigrants. I found that Mexicans made up about 51% of the undocumented immigrants who arrived in the country 10 or more years ago. Central Americans made up 20%, and the remaining originated from other regions.

However, undocumented migrants now come from across the globe. Among undocumented immigrants who arrived within the past 10 years, 19% came from Mexico. Larger shares came from Central America and South America. While some of these new migrants seek work, others flee crime, economic and ecological disasters, and political persecution in their home countries.

Duration of residence

Most immigrants, whether they are in the U.S. legally or illegally, have lived in the United States for many years. Just under half of foreign-born individuals have lived in the country for two decades or more, and more than two-thirds have lived in the country for at least 10 years. Only 20% arrived within the past five years.

This is a dramatic change from the early 2000s, when less than 10% of immigrants had been in the U.S. for more than two decades, and more than one-third had arrived within the previous five years.

That means many of the people who are likely to be targeted for deportation in the coming months are settled, long-term members of American society.

Place of residence

As of 2023, 6.6 million immigrants reported on the Census Bureau’s American Community Survey that they moved to the United States in the past five years.

However, the effects of these new immigrants on American communities has been uneven. Although most communities are more racially and ethnically diverse now than in the past, the numbers of newly arrived immigrants are relatively low in most places.

Fifteen states host fewer than 20,000 immigrants, and 33 states are home to fewer than 100,000. In contrast, over half of new arrivals live in just five states: California, Florida, Illinois, New York and Texas are the home of over half of new arrivals yet have only 37% of the U.S. population. Other states such as Georgia, Michigan, New Jersey, North Carolina, Pennsylvania and Washington also are home to large and growing immigrant populations.

The U.S. immigrant population is changing rapidly. In the early years of the 21st century, Mexican immigrants dominated undocumented immigration flows to the United States. Decades later, many of these people continue to live in the country.

In the past four years, however, the flow of undocumented people increased dramatically. These new arrivals tend to come from troubled nations in Central and South America, many of whom are protected from deportation and have a legal right to work in the U.S. Altogether, most undocumented immigrants either have lived in the country for decades or have legal protections.

Neither of these groups fit the profile of undocumented immigrants who are typically targeted for deportation.

Jennifer Van Hook, Distinguished Professor of Sociology and Demography, Penn State

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Daniel T. Kim, Albany Medical College

I sit on an ethics review committee at the Albany Med Health System in New York state, where doctors and nurses frequently bring us fraught questions.

Consider a typical case: A 6-month-old child has suffered a severe brain injury following cardiac arrest. A tracheostomy, ventilator and feeding tube are the only treatments keeping him alive. These intensive treatments might prolong the child’s life, but he is unlikely to survive. However, the mother – citing her faith in a miracle – wants to keep the child on life support. The clinical team is distressed – they feel they’re only prolonging the child’s dying process.

Often the question the medical team struggles with is this: Are we obligated to continue life-supporting treatments?

Bioethics, a modern academic field that helps resolve such fraught dilemmas, evolved in its early decades through debates over several landmark cases in the 1970s to the 1990s. The early cases helped establish the right of patients and their families to refuse treatments.

But some of the most ethically challenging cases, in both pediatric and adult medicine, now present the opposite dilemma: Doctors want to stop aggressive treatments, but families insist on continuing them. This situation can often lead to moral distress for doctors – especially at a time when trust in providers is falling.

Consequences of lack of trust

For the family, withdrawing or withholding life-sustaining treatments from a dying loved one, even if doctors advise that the treatment is unlikely to succeed or benefit the patient, can be overwhelming and painful. Studies show that their stress can be at the same level as people who have just survived house fires or similar catastrophes.

While making such high-stakes decisions, families need to be able to trust their doctor’s information; they need to be able to believe that their recommendations come from genuine empathy to serve only the patient’s interests. This is why prominent bioethicists have long emphasized trustworthiness as a central virtue of good clinicians.

However, the public’s trust in medical leaders has been on a precipitous decline in recent decades. Historical polling data and surveys show that trust in physicians is lower in the U.S. than in most industrialized countries. A recent survey from Sanofi, a pharmaceutical company, found that mistrust of the medical system is even worse among low-income and minority Americans, who experience discrimination and persistent barriers to care. The COVID-19 pandemic further accelerated the public’s lack of trust.

In the clinic, mistrust can create an untenable situation. Families can feel isolated, lacking support or expertise they can trust. For clinicians, the situation can lead to burnout, affecting quality and access to care as well as health care costs. According to the National Academy of Medicine, “The opportunity to attend to and ease suffering is the reason why many clinicians enter the healing professions.” When doctors see their patients suffer for avoidable reasons, such as mistrust, they often suffer as well.

At a time of low trust, families can be especially reluctant to take advice to end aggressive treatment, which makes the situation worse for everyone.

Ethics of the dilemma

Physicians are not ethically obligated to provide treatments that are of no benefit to the patient, or may even be harmful, even if the family requests them. But it can often be very difficult to say definitively what treatments are beneficial or harmful, as each of those can be characterized differently based on the goals of treatment. In other words, many critical decisions depend on judgment calls.

Consider again the typical case of the 6-month-old child mentioned above who had suffered severe brain injury and was not expected to survive. The clinicians told the ethics review committee that even if the child were to miraculously survive, he would never be able to communicate or reach any “normal” milestones. The child’s mother, however, insisted on keeping him alive. So, the committee had to recommend continuing life support to respect the parent’s right to decide.

Physicians inform, recommend and engage in shared decision-making with families to help clarify their values and preferences. But if there’s mistrust, the process can quickly break down, resulting in misunderstandings and conflicts about the patient’s best interests and making a difficult situation more distressing.

Moral distress

When clinicians feel unable to provide what they believe to be the best care for patients, it can result in what bioethicists call “moral distress.” The term was coined in 1984 in nursing ethics to describe the experience of nurses who were forced to provide treatments that they felt were inappropriate. It is now widely invoked in health care.

Numerous studies have shown that levels of moral distress among clinicians are high, with 58% of pediatric and neonatal intensive care clinicians in a study experiencing significant moral distress. While these studies have identified various sources of moral distress, having to provide aggressive life support despite feeling that it’s not in the patient’s interest is consistently among the most frequent and intense.

Watching a patient suffer feels like a dereliction of duty to many health care workers. But as long as they are appropriately respecting the patient’s right to decide – or a parent’s, in the case of a minor – they are not violating their professional duty, as my colleagues and I argued in a recent paper. Doctors sometimes express their distress as a feeling of guilt, of “having blood on their hands,” but, we argue, they are not guilty of any wrongdoing. In most cases, the distress shows that they’re not indifferent to what the decision may mean for the patient.

Clinicians, however, need more support. Persistent moral distresses that go unaddressed can lead to burnout, which may cause clinicians to leave their practice. In a large American Medical Association survey, 35.7% of physicians in 2022-23 expressed an intent to leave their practice within two years.

But with the right support, we also argued, feelings of moral distress can be an opportunity to reflect on what they can control in the circumstance. It can also be a time to find ways to improve the care doctors provide, including communication and building trust. Institutions can help by strengthening ethics consultation services and providing training and support for managing complex cases.

Difficult and distressing decisions, such as the case of the 6-month-old child, are ubiquitous in health care. Patients, their families and clinicians need to be able to trust each other to sustain high-quality care.

Daniel T. Kim, Assistant Professor of Bioethics, Albany Medical College

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.