I can't stand Trump, but let's calm down. The United States is not China
When I moved back to Britain aged 16, in 1998, after a childhood spent in the US, I constantly encountered knee-jerk anti-Americanism. I hated it: it was impossibly arrogant and ungrateful. After all, America had saved the world, and Europe, at least once in the 20 th century, continued to guarantee our safety, and continued to be the culture the whole world wanted a part of – from Hollywood to McDonald's to Apple – because it represented dreams of freedom, possibility and riches. Sniping at me for being its emissary just showed the fatal flaw – lazy self-regard – of the old world.
Now, though, America has ceased to be the end of the rainbow for quite so many. The reality of Trumpism in his second term is a shock to those who assumed America would, give or take, go on forever being a protective force, and a beacon of market-led, new world dynamism and constitutional seriousness.
It is now distinctly unfriendly to outsiders. Trump's sophomorically-calculated, mean-spirited and disloyal global tariffs; his threats to steal the territory of allies; the craven bullying of Ukraine, the dubious methods by which visitors are being treated, both within and at America's borders, and the generally offensive rhetoric, so ill befitting the president and his inner circle, is measurably putting people off.
As a result, according to the World Travel and Tourism Council (WTTO), the US tourism market will see a $12.5bn cut in international travel this year, driving revenue to 22 per cent less than before the pandemic. Of the 184 countries surveyed by WTTO, America is the only one in decline. Significantly, Canadians and Mexicans are staying away. 'There are also concerns over visas – whether they've got the right visa or might accidentally get arrested, which has made people quite fearful,' says Julia Simpson, President and CEO of the WTTC.
Of course, America's allure persists, and it'll take more than Trump's present mixture of sabre-rattling and bizarre economic and foreign policy to put an end to the parade of foreigners desperate to see the riot of the Manhattan skyline, the valleys of the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone and the artificial paradises of Florida.
As for those who are staying away: I understand. Nobody without a US passport wants to be at the mercy of paranoid, erratic policy. But come on. In the scale of countries with bad leadership, sinister intentions and dubious machinations, America is still pretty far from the worst – and those that are worse are considered perfectly good tourist destinations by the great and the good. Obvious examples here include the Communist dictatorship of China, with its treatment of the Uyghurs and of Hong Kong in clear violation of human rights law; the UAE, where homosexuality is illegal; Tunisia, which has a growing problem with Islamism, and, of course, the new kid on the hypocritical tourism block: Saudi Arabia.
The truth is that the US, flawed though it is, is too multifarious to cancel, and doing so would impoverish us. At the moment, there is much panicked amplification of the news, causing understandable jitters. But America is worth the risk as it currently stands. It's still the powerhouse of the world, from the skyscrapers of Manhattan to the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies, and tourists stand to gain more than they lose by braving it.
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