The eye-popping millions American families can accumulate with new 'Trump accounts' revealed
Fox Business reported Wednesday that the one-time government investment of $1,000 per child could grow to as much as $1.9 million by the time that individual turns 28 if the account if fully funded and left untouched.
The Treasury Office of Tax Analysis found that if parents don't contribute anything to their 'Trump account' the fund could still grow to between $3,000 and $13,800 over 18 years.
Parents and relatives are allowed to contribute up to $5,000 annually until the child turns 18.
The Treasury assessment found that if a maximum contribution is made each year on the child's birthday through age 17 the account could grow to between $191,500 and $676,400.
The money can't be used until the individual turns 18.
A child's Social Security number has to be provided in order for parents to sign up.
The current law applies to children born between January 1, 2025 and December 31, 2028.
Democrats have raised concerns about the program due to a comment uttered Wednesday by Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent.
'In a way, it is a back door for privatizing Social Security,' Bessent said at an event hosted by Breitbart News.
'If, all of a sudden, these accounts grow and you have in the hundreds of thousands of dollars for your retirement, that's a game-changer, too,' he added.
On Thursday, Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer gave a floor speech on the matter.
'Yesterday, the Trump administration did something they rarely do – they told the truth. It wasn't Donald Trump, but it was one of his minions. They told the truth,' the New York Democrat said. 'The Trump administration, in this case, was talking about wanting to privatize Social Security.'
Republican President George W. Bush had tried to partially privatize Social Security during his tenure - an effort that failed.
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The Independent
27 minutes ago
- The Independent
Trump has taken bullying to a whole new level – and not just with tariffs
You know that famous bit of chaos theory where a butterfly flutters its wings in the Amazon and a hurricane results in another part of the world? It's the idea that a minute change in complex interlinking structures can have huge consequences elsewhere. Well, forget butterflies in the Amazon and replace it with an electronic ankle tag put on a 70 year old Brazilian bloke who was considered a flight risk, and the whirlwind it has produced thousands of miles north in Washington DC. The 70 year old is Jair Bolsonaro, the former president of Brazil who is facing prison for his attempts to mount a coup to stop Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva from taking over the reins of power in 2023 after the Brazilian general election. Donald Trump and Bolsonaro back in the day were kindred spirits: swashbuckling, anti-establishment wrecking balls who were going to make their respective countries great again, even if that meant refusing to accept the results of each country's respective democratic elections. Now this won't be the first sentence written which has the words Trump and chaos alongside each other. The first six months of his presidency have given endless examples of surreal moments. Some might argue that tariffs policy, where import penalties have gone up and down with dizzying rapidity, is a prime example of chaos theory. Just look at what has unfolded this week. Dozens of countries have been punished for failing to reach agreement with the US. We've seen a small section of Amazon rainforest felled for newsprint to explain the tariffs policy. The arguments have become familiar. America has been ripped off by its friends and neighbours for too long, with non-tariff barriers by all and sundry putting the US at a trading disadvantage. Only by the US imposing tariffs will those trade imbalances be corrected. And at Trump's famous (or maybe that should be infamous) 'liberation day' event in the White House rose garden the size of the tariff to be imposed was in direct correlation with the size of the trade deficit. It was a blunt instrument and terribly calculated, but you could see the theory. So what has this to do with Jair Bolsonaro? Well, President Trump has now imposed Brazil with crippling 50 per cent tariffs on all goods exported to the US that will remain in place unless and until the charges against Bolsonaro are dropped. But hang on, I hear you say, aren't tariffs imposed depending on size of the trade deficit (and between Brazil and the US there is more or less no surplus or deficit on either side)? And what the hell business is it of Donald Trump to interfere in the judicial independence of another country? Isn't this the independent supreme court in Brasilia going about its work – wheels of justice and all that? Yes, I grant you, these are good questions. But this is becoming the preferred weapon of an authoritarian president: impose blunt force trauma by thwacking over the head with devastating financial penalties if you don't do what I want. It's not just Brazil. Canada too is now facing increased tariffs from 25 up to 35 per cent on certain goods. Why? Because it has announced that – like the UK – it will recognise Palestine if certain conditions aren't met by the Israeli government. If you're next question is 'why isn't he threatening the same to us seeing as we are in pretty much the same boat as Mark Carney's government in Ottawa?' then all I can offer you is a shrug emoji. The former US president, Theodore Roosevelt, used to talk about the 'bully pulpit' enjoyed by the inhabitant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. By it he meant a president's unrivalled ability to shape the national conversation. When you spoke from that pulpit you had the ability to command the nation's attention and bully your enemies in a way they never could to you. Trump has taken that to a whole different level. There isn't much that is under-reported about the doings of Donald Trump in these first six months in the White House, but the shakedown – and it's hard to know what other word to use – of some of America's biggest law firms has had scant attention. On the most spurious grounds Trump threatened to ban them from doing all government work worth billions of dollars unless they agreed to do pro bono work for causes dear to the president's heart. A couple of firms have agreed to each do $125 million of free work for him. A lawyer I know at one of these firms said it was extortion, pure and simple. Harvard University is looking to make peace with Trump for $500 million. A number of media companies who had big mergers in the balance have coughed up millions of dollars after the president sued them on the most vexatious grounds. CBS, to their eternal discredit, have axed The Late Show with Stephen Colbert – because Colbert has been a longstanding thorn in Trump's side, and presumably executives at the parent company, Paramount, thought offering him up as roadkill would grease the wheels of their proposed multi-billion dollar -merger with Skydance Media. And guess what? It worked. The deal was given the go-ahead last week. Trump crowed about the demise of Colbert on Truth Social. Colbert who is always punchy addressed his being cancelled by saying to the president: 'Go f*** yourself'. Brazil for the moment is using more diplomatic language, but it is not bending either; a rare example of a country that is prepared to stand up to Trump. Canada has also to work out what it intends to do. Blackmail is an ugly word, but it does look as though regardless of whether you are a sovereign nation, an independent media company, an academic institution or a law firm, if you don't do what Donald Trump demands then you'd better be prepared for the consequences.
The Guardian
27 minutes ago
- The Guardian
The inside story of the Murdoch editor taking on Donald Trump
The danger posed to Donald Trump was obvious. It was a story that not only drew attention to his links to a convicted sex offender, it also risked widening a growing wedge between the president and some of his most vociferous supporters. The White House quickly concluded a full-force response was required. It was Tuesday 15 July. The Wall Street Journal had approached Trump's team, stating it planned to publish allegations that Trump had composed a crude poem and doodle as part of a collection compiled for Jeffrey Epstein's 50th birthday. The claim would have been damaging at any moment, but the timing was terrible for the president. The Epstein issue was developing into the biggest crisis of his presidency. Strident Maga supporters had been angered by the Trump administration's refusal to release government files relating to the late sex offender. Trump and his loyal press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, reached for the nuclear option. From Air Force One, they called the Journal's British editor-in-chief, Emma Tucker. They turned up the heat. Trump fumed that the letter was fake. Drawing wasn't his thing. Threats were made to sue, a course of action he had previously unleashed against other perceived media enemies. Washington DC began to hum with rumours that the Journal had a hot story on its hands. When no article materialised on Wednesday, some insiders perceived a growing confidence within the White House that their rearguard action had killed the story. They were wrong. DC's gossip mill had reached fever pitch by Thursday afternoon. The article finally emerged in the early evening. The city collectively stopped to read. In the hours that followed publication, the tension intensified. Trump revealed he had confronted Tucker, stating the story was 'false, malicious, and defamatory'. By Friday, he had filed a lawsuit suing the Journal and its owners for at least $10bn (£7.6bn). Tucker was at the centre of a maelstrom of stress and political pressure. It was the greatest challenge of her two and a half years heading the Journal, but far from the first. Two months in, having been parachuted in from London, she was fronting a campaign to have the reporter Evan Gershkovich returned from a Russian prison. She had also faced denunciations from journalists as she pushed through a modernisation drive that included brutal layoffs. Her plans focused on giving stories a sharper edge. On that metric, the Trump call suggested she was overachieving. Throughout her rise, an enigmatic quality has surrounded Tucker. Friends, colleagues and even some critical employees describe an amiable, fun and disarmingly grounded person. Many regarded her ability to retain such qualities in the treacherous terrain of the Murdoch empire as uncanny. The puzzle is exacerbated by the assumption she does not share the rightwing, pro-Brexit views of Rupert Murdoch, News Corp's legendary mogul. Yet Murdoch doesn't hand the Journal to just anyone. While the pro-Maga Fox News is his empire's cash cow, the Journal is his prized possession, giving him power and respectability in wider US political circles, as the Times does in the UK. So, why Tucker? The answer, according to people who have worked with her, is her possession of two qualities Murdoch rates highly: a willingness to make unpopular decisions for the sake of his businesses and a lust for a politically contentious scoop. Lionel Barber, a former Financial Times editor who also worked with Tucker for the FT in Brussels, said: 'She has a very sharp nose for a good news story – always did.' Tucker edited the University of Oxford's student magazine, the Isis, and joined the FT as a graduate trainee. 'She was a very convivial colleague, great company and good on a night out, but you knew when it came down to the work, she would nail it,' said a colleague. 'Very hard-nosed.' After stints in Brussels and Berlin, she won a powerful ally in Robert Thomson, then the FT's foreign editor. Thomson became a close friend to Murdoch, a fellow Australian, while working in the US for the FT. Thomson jumped ship to edit the Times of London in 2002 and in 2008 was dispatched to New York to oversee Murdoch's freshly acquired Journal. Before he went, Thomson helped lure Tucker to the Times, where she eventually became deputy editor. It was her elevation to editor of the Sunday Times in 2020 that seems to have impressed Murdoch. She showed a willingness to make difficult staffing decisions and widened the Sunday Times's digital ambitions, recasting the pro-Brexit paper to appeal to a wider audience. It was there she made an enemy of her first populist world leader. Just months into her tenure, the Sunday Times published a damning account of how Boris Johnson, the then UK prime minister, had handled the Covid pandemic. Downing Street erupted, taking the unusual step of issuing a lengthy rebuttal, denouncing 'falsehoods and errors'. The paper was called 'the most hostile paper in the country' to Johnson's government, despite having backed him at the previous year's election. Rachel Johnson, the former prime minister's sister, is one of Tucker's closest friends. 'I don't think she was ever reckless,' said one Sunday Times staffer. 'But I think she absolutely wanted to push the boundaries of getting as much into the public domain as she possibly could.' Many assumed Tucker's destiny was to edit the Times, but she was catapulted to New York to run the Journal at the start of 2023, immediately embarking on a painful streamlining process. Senior editors were axed. Pulitzer prize winners ditched. The DC bureau, the most powerful, was particularly targeted with layoffs and new leadership. One reporter spoke of people crying, another of the process's serious mental impact. It made Tucker's editorship divisive, leading to the extraordinary spectacle of journalists plastering her unoccupied office with sticky notes denouncing the layoffs. Even some who accepted cuts questioned the methods. Several pointed to the use of 'performance improvement plans', with journalists claiming they had been handed unrealistic targets designed to push them out the door. One described it as 'gratuitously cruel'. A Journal spokesperson said: 'Performance improvement plans are used to set clear objectives and create a development plan that gives an employee feedback and support to meet those objectives. They are being used exactly as designed.' The Tucker enigma re-emerged at the Journal, as staff noted the same mix of personable demeanour, enthusiasm for stories and willingness to make cuts. 'She's very emotionally intelligent – like, the 99th percentile,' said one. They said morale had improved more recently. New hires have followed. A cultural shift on stories also arrived. What emerges is a Tucker Venn diagram. At its overlapping centre lie stories with two qualities: they cover legitimate areas of public importance and aim squarely at eye-catching topics with digital reach. Tucker gave investigative reporters the examples of Elon Musk and China as two potential areas. Some complained the topics were 'clickbaity'. However, one journalist who had had reservations conceded: 'Musk turned out to be a pretty good topic.' Tucker's use of metrics around web traffic and time spent reading a story irked some reporters. Headlines were made more direct. Honorifics such as 'Mr' and 'Mrs' were ditched. There was a ban on stories having more than three bylines. 'She loosened a lot of the strictures that we had,' said one staffer. 'We're encouraged to write more edgy stories.' Positioning the Journal as a punchy rival to the liberal New York Times juggernaut may be a good business plan, but doing so while not falling foul of Murdoch's politics remains a delicate balance. 'There's a particular moment now where the Wall Street Journal has to prove its mettle as the pre-eminent business and financial markets media organisation,' said Paddy Harverson, a contemporary of Tucker's at the FT, now a communications executive. 'They're up against Trump, yet they have an historically centre-right editorial view. She has guided the paper along that tightrope really well.' Allies said Tucker laid a marker of intent in terms of punchy stories when she published an article on the alleged cognitive decline of Joe Biden. It was initially described as a 'hit piece' by the Biden administration. Some see the Epstein story as the latest evidence of Tucker's shift. There are journalists, however, who blame Trump's response for giving the story attention it simply didn't warrant. Others disagree about the extent of Tucker's changes, pointing to the Journal's history of breaking contentious stories, including the hush money paid to Stormy Daniels. However, the net result of the Epstein letter saga has been to draw attention to Tucker's attempted change in tone. Trump's lawsuit means the furore may only just be beginning. Many seasoned media figures assume Murdoch, who does not respond well to bullying, will not back down. However, neither billionaire will relish having to face depositions and disclosures. Any settlement from Murdoch could put pressure on Tucker, depending on its details. Dow Jones, which publishes the Journal, has said it has 'full confidence in the rigour and accuracy of our reporting, and will vigorously defend against any lawsuit'. The courts may yet reject Trump's case. 'I don't think [Murdoch] will just flop over,' said Barber. 'The issue here is that Trump went around boasting that he killed the story … For an editor, that's very difficult. But I'm pretty damn confident there's no way [Tucker] would publish without having it properly sourced.'
Telegraph
27 minutes ago
- Telegraph
Trump played the EU at its own game... and won
Squaring off across the table from Ursula von der Leyen was Donald Trump, banging his fists and demanding a 30 per cent blanket tariff. The clubhouse of the Trump Turnberry golf course had become the unlikely setting of a face-off between the two global superpowers – and ultimately, the EU's humiliation. The Telegraph has spoken to insiders who were in the room when the negotiations were taking place and has seen diplomatic notes that paint a clear picture. It's one of Mrs von der Leyen, the European Commission president, bowing to pressure from the US and being beaten at the bloc's own game. She had just agreed to the US imposing 15 per cent tariffs on EU goods entering America, while Britain had come away with a rate of 10 per cent. And at the end of it all, she and her team of EU negotiators had to put their thumbs up, their smiles not reaching their eyes, as they stood next to Mr Trump who boasted of the 'biggest deal ever made'. US officials had played hardball for the weeks and months leading up to the high-stakes showdown. Panicked European officials had turned to their Japanese counterparts for advice before flying to Scotland, asking for their advice on how to be successful like them. But ultimately, the EU was beaten by a dealmaker who played the bloc's game better than they could have played it. Over the years, Brussels has used the size of its single market to reinforce the need for trading partners to make concessions, rather than the other way round in talks over deals. And European leaders have voiced their frustration at the move. France's leaders described it as a 'dark day' for Europe and that the bloc hadn't been feared enough going into the talks. Trump plays hardball After a round of golf, the stage was set for the American negotiating team, including Mr Trump. A no-deal deadline was set for Friday, Aug 1. Without a pact Brussels would be subjected to the 30 per cent tariffs set out by the president in a letter to Mrs von der Leyen just two weeks earlier. European firms doing business in America would have become uncompetitive overnight if the EC president didn't shake hands on a pact. To secure this deal, the German eurocrat was told she would have to stomach a number of concessions, signing on the dotted line of an agreement that would be considered one-sided in favour of the Americans. Brussels also knew this agreement was needed to avert a nastier, more chaotic transatlantic trade war that would have left Europe without its most important ally until at least January 2029, when Mr Trump's second term comes to an end. To achieve this, member states agreed that they would have to stomach a blanket tariff because of a belief that the US president wouldn't settle without one, a source familiar with the negotiations told The Telegraph. Maros Sefcovic, the EU's trade commissioner, had briefed capitals that they simply wouldn't be able to do business in the US if that tariff rose to the 30 per cent demanded by Mr Trump. Therefore, they needed to settle on a number that would be an increase on the status quo originally charged on European imports into America – 14.8 per cent, according to one official. Some might argue that this was the EU being made to take a taste of its own medicine, with the bloc usually the first negotiator to reach for hard deadlines and use its size and strength to extract concessions from prospective partners. And it worked, the bloc had blinked. Before Mrs von der Leyen headed to Scotland, European capitals signed off on a mandate, perhaps for the first time, that would use a trade deal to increase tariffs from the current number. Behind the scenes For 24 minutes, the US President and the commission chief held an impromptu press conference under the eight chandeliers in the glamorous ball room at Trump Turnberry. With the Brussels and White House press packs ushered out, the real talks could begin. Mr Trump opened with his gambit of 30 per cent tariffs on all European products imported into America. The commission's first offer was 'high single digits', a source briefed on the wrangling said. The White House delegation stood firm as their European counterparts began slowly ratcheting their number closer to the American's figure. But ultimately, the commission's team kept their cool, at the recommendation of the Japanese, the most recent country to sign an agreement with the US. The Telegraph can reveal that a top aide to Mr Sefcovic had reached out to his Japanese counterpart for help on handling the Americans before the talks. 'They come in shouting the high number, and all you have to do is hold your cool and they diminish as you push back,' a source said, describing the advice. The other tactic deployed by the Europeans was to woo Mr Trump with some large numbers presented to him on a single sheet of A4 paper. Eurocrats had used their build-up to prepare an offer on paper that the US president would see as a major victory. That was an offer to buy billions of dollars worth of American military technology – born out of Nato's recent decision to increase defence spending to 5 per cent of GDP. The EU pledged to purchase $750bn (£565bn) worth of energy from the US over the next three years. And then there was a further promise that European companies would invest $600bn (£452bn) by 2028. These, European officials claim, are non-binding, not really worth the paper they were written on. The numbers were calculated using publicly available order information and information from trade associations. But this was enough to convince Mr Trump to settle at a tariff rate of 15 per cent, covering about 70 per cent of EU exports and totalling about €780bn (£588bn) worth of trade. In return, US imports into the EU will not face higher tariffs. 'This is probably the biggest deal ever reached in any capacity, trade or beyond trade,' Mr Trump declared. 'It's a giant deal,' he added, referring to the $600bn and $750bn promises. 'That's going to be great.' The US president's claims of victory and the deal were met with derision in Europe. Emmanuel Macron, the French president, said the bloc hadn't been 'feared' enough in the talks, which opened the door to the concessions. François Bayrou, Macron's prime minister, described it as a 'dark day' for Europe and accused the Commission of bowing to American pressure. Michel Barnier, the EU's former Brexit negotiator, said accepting tariffs was an 'admission of weakness'. 'This weakness is not inevitable. It results from poor choices that ensure neither the sovereignty nor the prosperity of the continent and its states,' he wrote on social media. Friedrich Merz, the German chancellor, meanwhile said it would cause 'considerable damage' to his country's economy, the largest in the Eurozone. In comparison, Britain had negotiated a tariff rate of 10 per cent, five less than the EU, in its own deal with Washington. This was hailed by Brexiteers as evidence that leaving the bloc was the right thing to do. Paris and Berlin had been the two capitals pushing hardest for the bloc to take a more robust stance in the trade talks. The French had especially pushed for a package of €93bn (£81bn) of retaliatory tariffs to be unleashed to bring Mr Trump and Washington to heel. There were also calls from Paris to clamp down on American tech firms doing business in Europe. 'This was a big red button nobody was willing to push,' an EU diplomat told The Telegraph, spelling out fears that Europe's economy is reliant on American payment services. But Mrs von der Leyen, who was particularly dovish, argued that this would spill over into other sectors and potentially spell an end to what is a crucial alliance for Europe, especially in security. Fears that the White House and Pentagon would withdraw security guarantees for Europe and cut off weapons supplies to Ukraine overshadowed the talks. But the commission president and her top officials also steeled member states for a longer-term game. Devil in the detail Gabrielius Landsbergis, a former Lithuanian foreign minister, said: 'The only way I can explain to myself why the EU commission would choose to humiliate Europe by accepting the 15 per cent tariff is that they hope to appease Trump enough for him to maintain US security commitments in Europe.' Now Mr Trump has his victory, the devil would be in the detail as the terms are finalised, Mrs von der Leyen's team told member states. The commission will be looking to quietly enlarge a list of products that are exempted from tariffs in more technical talks with Washington. Eurocrats are already briefing that Britain's deal, despite having a lower tariff rate, doesn't protect key European industries, such as beef farmers.
