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New York Times
13 hours ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Canada vs. USA: Two fans forced to watch each country's worst 2025 NHL playoff ads
Every year, there's one article more people ask me about than any other. Which is weird, because it has next to nothing to do with hockey. That would be this one, of course — the annual 'bad ads' piece, in which two Seans from different countries create an international exchange program for annoying commercials. You know the ones; the kind you see once or twice and maybe aren't too bothered by, right up until you realize that they're going to keep popping up constantly as you try to enjoy the NHL playoffs. That's when the annoyance begins to build. Sometimes, it grows into rage. Or despair. Or whatever that was that 'Tara Tara look at her go' made us feel. Advertisement We first tried this back in 2020, and it's become an annual tradition. This time around, in a year where relations between our two countries have been strained, to put it mildly, it feels more important than ever. After all, we may have our differences. But at least we all know how to pronounce the word 'liberty' and buy a proper cantaloupe. Here we go… McIndoe: I'm going to lead off with a decision that I suspect will be controversial. Canada, we have to figure out what to do with 'Lay It on the Line.' (Pauses while an entire nation shudders in terror at the mere words.) For you Americans, 'Lay It on the Line' is, of course, the single ad that's done the most psychic damage to hockey fans up here over the last few months. It's the Rogers spot that's not really selling anything except Canadian hockey exceptionalism, and we all hate it. It's to the point where just the first few seconds trigger a rage response from Canadians. BUT! I'm not including it as one of my three ads today, for a simple reason: I don't think it's a bad commercial. In fact, on first viewing, it's actually pretty good. The problem up here is that after that first viewing, and the second, and the third, we've been subjected to it roughly a million more times. I swear that there are times when it plays at every ad break. That's what makes it so awful. It's the cumulative effect. And that wouldn't come across in an exercise like this. So here's my compromise: American viewers, feel free to watch the ad below. Then rewatch it. Then put it on a loop, and after about 48 consecutive hours, check back and let me know what you think. You'll know it's working when the first drop of blood rolls out of your ear. Beyond that, I actually got scientific this year, posting a survey on my site for Canadian readers to vote on which ads they wanted to see. And somewhat to my surprise, two ads ran away with the poll. We'll use both, with a personal (non) favorite sandwiched in between, and see where this goes. Advertisement Gentille: Greetings from Team America HQ, where we believe we're in a bit of a transitional season. In 2024, we held the 'What a pro wants' hammer. The year before that, it was some lady with a heart like a truck. We know all about Tara, looking at her go and things of that nature. What I'm saying is that over the years, I'd learned to lean on commercials with earwormy songs. This year, I have no such option. Time for a different approach. I'm trying to build a contender without a true franchise player here. That worked out for Rob Blake, right? Right? In terms of the order, we're going in escalating order of obnoxiousness. I've tried a Round 1 haymaker a time or two, but I don't think I have the option this time around. Enjoy a slower build. Also, that was the first time I saw 'Lay It on the Line.' I get that repetition is a factor here, but if that was really the worst of the Canadian batch this spring, I might have a shot. McIndoe: I'll lead off with the surprise winner of my reader poll. To be clear, it's not that I don't think this ad is awful, but given that it only ran for about a week, it sure seemed to leave an impression with Canadian viewers. Sean, were you aware that we recently had an election up here? Gentille: No, but I'm a big fan of them — especially the effect that they have on watching television. McIndoe: Well then I have good news. We had a federal election, and like every election held anywhere in the world these days, we were warned that it was the most important one ever. And so, with just about a week left in a hard-fought campaign, this was our conservative party's closing message. Nothing held back, no expenses spared, this is what they wanted us to have in mind when we went to the polls: Feel the electricity! Gentille: Played big, I assume, with the crucial voting bloc of 'golf dads in quarter-zips who bought their kid a house.' Gotta keep those guys in your pocket if you're the conservative party. Also, I think this is the first instance of 'Simpsons did it' in the history of our little exercise here. Advertisement McIndoe: It might be! Also, for those of you who don't follow Canadian politics, I should point out that neither of those old golfer guys was running for prime minister. Or anything at all. They're actors. Like, they do this for a living. They auditioned for this, and the people who wanted to run our country said 'Those are our guys.' Gentille: I love starting conversations with my friends by reminding them of their kids' relationship to them. 'Ohhh, my son David. My mailman's name is David, too. Thanks for clarifying. Anyway, I had enough money to buy him a house. Things are going terribly for me.' McIndoe: In a shocking development, the party that ran this ad did not win. Hey, if I wanted to watch some sad old guys play golf, I'd just wait for the second round of a Leafs playoff run, am I right? Gentille: Yeah, or you could just hang around any Congressional country club outside of D.C. and wait for the clown car to roll up. Bunch of clowns. McIndoe: 'I think it speaks directly to a demographic that the Conservatives need to win in order to win this election,' according to this CBC article. That demographic: You guessed it, clowns. What's your first ad? Gentille: After I made my picks, I re-read last year's post and was reminded that we'd speculated, based on a Progressive ad featuring a ghost who sounded like Will Ferrell, that we were approaching a point where the actual Will Ferrell would show up in our nasty little collection. Lo and behold … Again: when I put that one in the leadoff spot, I'd completely forgotten about what we said last spring. McIndoe: Oh, so this is what 'pay your own way' means. It sucks! Gentille: It was the second one of these PayPal ads for Ferrell, too. Weird, because sequels have typically worked out for him. McIndoe: You see, the little kid tells him he's not cool, so that means they know he's not cool, which when you think about it means he kind of is cool, right? That's how irony works, right? I'm pretty sure that's it. Advertisement Gentille: Irony, at least as I understand it, is when a bazillionaire celebrity stumps for a financial service that allows you to pay for relatively inexpensive stuff in installments. Unless he actually needs it. McIndoe: Too bad about the humidity taking out his curls. If he needs any tips on keeping his hair dry, he could always reach out to Mitch Marner. Gentille: It gets warm in Raleigh. McIndoe: Next time we hang out, I'm definitely kicking off the good times with a 'Swans, flock up!' That catchphrase is definitely going to go viral, as the kids say. Gentille: I am simply begging Will Ferrell to do something funny. It's been long enough. Let's move on before I get any sadder. McIndoe: Good idea. Since you countered my friendly Canadian golfers with some genuine Hollywood star power, I know what I must do… McIndoe: When it's time to appeal to Canadians and you've got the budget for a legitimate if vaguely non-threatening movie star, there's only way name you turn to: Ryan Reynolds. But when you find out he's already doing weird scrambled egg ads for Tim Hortons, your next best choice is Keanu Reeves. Gentille: I have no problem with this one. He's a famously chill and likable dude, he's not doing anything particularly annoying in the commercial and he seems to have found yet another way to make the Dogstar guys some money. McIndoe: Oh, are those the guys from his band? I kind of like that. But I have to disagree on him not being annoying here, because the implication is that he's left an entire work meeting on hold just so he can go play guitar with his friends. That's big-league jerk behaviour, no? Gentille: Did you forget that I did that during the Zoom where they told us that they were putting the podcast on YouTube? McIndoe: No. That's why I chose this ad. Maybe time for some self-reflection, Sean. Advertisement Gentille: The only issue I might have here is that 'Keanu Reeves loves the internet' seems like a faulty premise, based on basically everything we've ever heard about him. McIndoe: I'm not sure I can fully articulate why, but the 'crash through the window' part really bothers me. It's a classic 'super-obvious idea that we've all already thought of and rejected, but now that the boss said it we have to pretend it's brilliant' moment. Kind of like when Terry Pegula suggests they sign Taylor Hall. Gentille: 'What if I crash through the window?' 'Yeah. I mean this is … yeah.' McIndoe: I will say this – I appreciate the attention to detail of him painting a wolf, then having that turn out to be his Fall Guys skin. I'm a 'horse's head and boxer shorts' bean myself, but to each his own. Gentille: I can tell we're starting to cook, because Sean just brought up the finer points of a video game that I don't play. Folks, it happens more than you'd think. McIndoe: (miscellaneous Balatro reference) Gentille: Alright, here's one that definitely sucks for reasons both obvious and subtle. McIndoe: OK, so… how can I put this… um, what the hell? Gentille: It's annoying prima facie because 'bibberty' is an annoying word, the baby is annoying and the guy is annoying. That should be clear to even someone watching it for the first time. What takes this thing into overdrive, though, is that there is LORE involved. Dude starred in a Liberty Mutual commercial a few years back as a 'struggling actor' who was flubbing all his lines. That's the big reveal. He dramatically pulls down the newspaper and everything — he, a guy who was in one of 10,000 simultaneously running insurance company ads from a half-decade ago. McIndoe: What was the reaction in the Gentille living room when that newspaper came down? I'm guessing it was a 'Stone Cold in 1999' level pop. Advertisement Gentille: Crashed through the window like Keanu, brother. 'THERE HE IS! IT'S HIM!' Insurance commercial lore is something I've whined about here before, too. We see it with the Progressive ads starring 'Flo.' Those have been running so long, and Progressive has such a warped idea of the space they occupy in American life, that she has a family and friends and co-workers now. We are expected to enjoy them, too. Also, I rewatched the original in prep for this. 'Liberty' is the only word Mr. 'Struggling Actor' doesn't flub. Continuity issues on top of quality issues. What a disgrace. McIndoe: Infuriating. OK, let's take it home… McIndoe: I'll be honest, I didn't really see this one coming as far as bad ad difference-makers. When it first debuted, it felt like a run-of-the-mill annoying commercial. But within a few days, it had emerged as the national consensus pick, and it never surrendered that lead. Sean, I give you: An old man who has strong feelings about a cantaloupe. Gentille: …I think this one is fine. McIndoe: Sean. Gentille: Yeah, man. I think the line deliveries are pretty good. I think soundtracking it with a string version of 'I Want It That Way' kind of works. There are probably funnier things she could be buying than a cantaloupe, but … I dunno. At minimum, I don't see how it would get that much worse even with repetition. McIndoe: I'm stunned. First of all, you're overlooking the deeply weird (presumably family) dynamic here, where she's clearly so beaten down from his constant nit-picking that she just pretends to go along with every weird thing he says. Gentille: No, I get it, and … I think that's kind of funny. McIndoe: Also, can we normalize not expecting the minimum-wage workers we hire to do our grocery shopping to engage in bizarre rituals with our produce? If I got a lecture about cantaloupe strategy from a customer, I can't tell you what I'd be doing to that melon, but it wouldn't be knocking on it. Advertisement Gentille: That's the only issue I have with it. Able-bodied people should minimize how much they use apps like Instacart and DoorDash and whatever else, and in the instances that they can't-slash-won't, they should tip well and avoid bizarre requests. McIndoe: You know what else sounds like nobody's home when you knock on it? The door to this old man's house, because he's a jerk. Gentille: Maybe this one was, in fact, bad. Alright, I'm finishing up with one that's a lock to bother you. McIndoe: Oh wow. Yeah, I'm mad now. Gentille: Congrats to Jennifer Coolidge who, I'm pretty sure, is our first repeat honoree. Last year, she was harassing customer service employees. This year, she's harassing Wayne Gretzky. We should hang a jersey that she never wore from the rafters of Bad Commercial Arena. McIndoe: I'm sure I'm not the first one to point this out, but the phrasing of 'accepted into the Hall of Fame' makes my eye twitch. Gentille: You're not. A truly pathetic, unnatural turn of phrase that they crowbarred in solely to set up an 'accepted everywhere' reference. We love it! I will say, though, I'd never realized that 'Gretzky' rhymes with 'jet ski.' Two of my favorite things, too. McIndoe: Also, she drops the Hall of Fame line while gesturing at the retired numbers, which… that's not the same thing! Gentille: Is it possible for anyone to know what a hat trick is while also never hearing of Wayne Gretzky? I don't think it's possible. McIndoe: That's a great point that had not occurred to me, and now both eyes are twitching. I mean, what's the sales pitch here? 'You know who would probably enjoy a commercial about how unpopular hockey is? Hockey fans!' Gentille: Also, Gretzky is sitting next to someone who isn't Kash Patel. So unrealistic. McIndoe: Yeah, her eyes both point in the same direction. He'd never put up with that. Gentille: 'It's the NHL on TNT, with Liam, Biz, Ace, Hank and Jetz!' McIndoe: I'll just say it – you win this year. Dwayne Jetski just beat the competition like it was an overripe cantaloupe rind. Gentille: He's been accepted into the Hall of Fame.
Fox News
25-05-2025
- Politics
- Fox News
Democrats don't need a 'left-wing' Joe Rogan, they need to win back the real one
It was hard to concentrate in my congressional office because I could overhear a lively interview with conservative media host Glenn Beck through the thin wall. You might assume I work for a Republican, but I'm chief of staff to progressive California Congressman Ro Khanna. What if I told you it was one of our best interviews in recent months? They disagreed on President Trump's deportation efforts and USAID funding, but they agreed on revitalizing manufacturing and leading against China. The headline for the interview read, "Progressive Democrat sits down with Glenn Beck despite disagreements: 'We're all Team America.'" We agreed he'd return soon. There's debate about whether Democrats need a stronger message or more robust left-wing media. But what Democrats really need is to relearn the art of persuasion—not just crafting a compelling message, but figuring out how to make it cut through today's crowded media landscape. Democrats don't need a "left-wing Joe Rogan." We need to persuade the real one, along with Americans nationwide, that we share common ground and are worth supporting. I know it's possible because I saw Ro begin that process with Glenn Beck. They didn't agree on everything, but the conversation opened a door. That's persuasion: not instant conversion, but showing up, listening, and finding places to start. Our leaders are too often surrounded by chattering consultants obsessed with poll-tested messages and terrified of ruffling feathers. Every morning, I get dozens of emails urging me to tell Americans that MAGA Republicans are trying to take away their healthcare. I believe it! But it takes more than one line to convince people. We need specifics, facts, and a clear vision of what Democrats stand for. Ro has been building this foundation for years. He's traveled to dozens of states, partnering with Silicon Valley to expand tech opportunities, and since the election, held town halls in Republican districts—not to preach, but to listen. At a recent Allentown, Pennsylvania, event, Ro spoke with the Trump supporters protesting outside about his bipartisan bill to lower prescription drug costs. By the end, they came inside—and applauded. Having a message is just the first step. The next challenge is breaking through today's media ecosystem—can it go viral on social media, get picked up by the press, or reach broader audiences, and still land? Amplification matters equally. It's not about giving anyone a platform or legitimacy—their platforms already exist, and their audiences view them as legitimate. It's about using those platforms to share our message and tailoring how we communicate to different audiences without compromising our values. We also need to balance between viral moments with nuanced messages about complicated issues. Ro's prescription drug bill has gained traction on X and Reddit. But his core vision—a new economic patriotism focused on 21st century solutions for the economic success of every community including new factories and AI academies—hasn't taken off online the same way. Yet, in longer-form interviews and podcasts, it's met with enthusiasm. Both messages matter, and we need to find the right time and place for each. After all, Joe Rogan supported Bernie Sanders in the 2020 presidential election. When he drifted toward Donald Trump, we shrugged and said he was gone for good. Why not try again with a tailored message and an eye toward persuasion? Joe, if you're reading this, I have a pitch for you.
Yahoo
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Opinion - The most psychotic musical since ‘Sweeney Todd' — and why America needs it
Luigi Mangione is accused of gunning down the CEO of UnitedHealthcare in broad daylight. A clean shot. No hesitation. Very soon, he'll sing about the brutal act in a San Francisco musical. I say: Good. 'Luigi: The Musical' is absurd, possibly sociopathic — and yet somehow entirely defensible. In fact, in this grotesque, camp-addled culture of ours, it might be the most honest piece of art produced all year. Not because murder is funny. Not because the justice system is a joke. But because we now live in an age where satire is the last viable truth-delivery system. Much of journalism is corporate. Novels are afraid. Late-night comedy is neutered. You want truth? Put it in a musical. Wrap it in sequins. And give it jazz hands. Satire has always been the most ruthlessly efficient scalpel. Aristophanes mocked imperial war. Jonathan Swift proposed devouring Irish children. George Orwell, Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Vonnegut — they didn't protest. They staged freak shows. Molière shredded hypocrisy in powdered wigs. Charles Dickens dragged Victorian England through the gutter it tried to ignore. Joseph Heller turned bureaucratic madness into 'Catch-22.' Before his comedy went off a cliff, George Carlin stood on stage and tore down empire with a smirk. With 'Four Lions,' a pitch-black comedy about incompetent jihadists, Chris Morris made terrorism absurd. Before that, he had already terrified the British establishment with 'Brass Eye,' a fake news satire so savage it tricked members of Parliament into denouncing fictional drugs on air. Trey Parker made everything absurd, or at least appear absurd. From Mormonism ('The Book of Mormon') to war propaganda ('Team America') to the bloated theater of American politics and celebrity culture ('South Park'), nothing was sacred — and that was the point. Satire doesn't whisper; it slaps. It offends. It remembers what the real world would rather forget. 'Luigi' stands firmly in that lineage — not in spite of the outrage it invites, but because of it. What are we really so scandalized by? The idea of a murderer with a musical number? Please. We've been there before: 'Sweeney Todd,' 'Chicago,' 'Heathers,' 'Assassins.' We have clapped for John Wilkes Booth. We have cheered for razor blades and ricin. What bothers people about 'Luigi' isn't the violence. It's the contemporaneity — the fact that it's still too soon and the wound hasn't scabbed yet. This character, the corporate assassin-turned-accidental folk hero, feels dangerously plausible. Deep down, we know the real absurdity isn't the musical. It is the world that created such a man. We live in a culture that glamorizes sociopathy but gets offended when it's reflected back. Netflix ran 'Dahmer.' You can now buy 'American Psycho' mugs, t-shirts and beanies. 'The Sopranos' has a wine label. Real-life cartel hitmen share their 'wisdom' on TikTok. And yet, when a fringe theater group stages a smart, cynical satire about a real-life killing, we're told it's 'too far'? Get real. 'Luigi' doesn't play by prestige rules. It's too camp. Too gaudy. Too loud. It isn't Oscar-bait. It's black box theater with blood under its nails. And that's why it matters. It's not Netflix. It's not Hulu. It's not a limited series you can binge and forget. It's theater. And theater — real theater — makes you sit with it. The show is Gulag humor for the Uber Eats generation. It weaponizes the ludicrous, stitches viral violence to choreography, turns cellmates like Diddy and Sam Bankman-Fried into Greek chorus figures, and mocks our collective appetite for the borderline insane. 'Luigi'isn't glorifying Mangione. It's not trying to humanize him. It's trying to indict us. The audience. The algorithm. The economy of attention that turns killers into content. The culture that made a young man with a gun a trending topic before the body hit the pavement. This is a country where mass shooters get Wikipedia pages before their victims get autopsied. Where headlines blur into hashtags. Where the line between infamy and influence disappeared sometime around 2014. In that context, 'Luigi' isn't satire. It's realism. But there's a deeper tragedy here — not in the subject matter, but in the medium. Theater is dying — with its empty seats, aging donors and young people who'd rather scroll through cat videos, theater is losing the war for attention, and fast. This makes 'Luigi' both timely and, in some ways, necessary. Perhaps it's too campy. Perhaps it's too crass. Maybe it turns a murderer into a meme with a melody. But you know what? It gets people off their screens. It gets them out of their apartments. It gets them into a room with other humans, watching a live act of provocation unfold in real time. That used to be called art. Now it's called a liability. 'Luigi' won't win prestigious prizes. It might not even last its full run without protests. But it belongs. Theater isn't supposed to be sacred. It's supposed to be a mirror. Sometimes cracked, but always honest. So let them sing. Mangione won't be the last killer to dance under a spotlight. He's just the first one to do it with a chorus line and a cellmate named Diddy. John Mac Ghlionn is a writer and researcher who explores culture, society and the impact of technology on daily life. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Hill
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hill
The most psychotic musical since ‘Sweeney Todd' — and why America needs it
Luigi Mangione is accused of gunning down the CEO of UnitedHealthcare in broad daylight. A clean shot. No hesitation. Very soon, he'll sing about the brutal act in a San Francisco musical. I say: Good. 'Luigi: The Musical' is absurd, possibly sociopathic — and yet somehow entirely defensible. In fact, in this grotesque, camp-addled culture of ours, it might be the most honest piece of art produced all year. Not because murder is funny. Not because the justice system is a joke. But because we now live in an age where satire is the last viable truth-delivery system. Much of journalism is corporate. Novels are afraid. Late-night comedy is neutered. You want truth? Put it in a musical. Wrap it in sequins. And give it jazz hands. Satire has always been the most ruthlessly efficient scalpel. Aristophanes mocked imperial war. Jonathan Swift proposed devouring Irish children. George Orwell, Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Vonnegut — they didn't protest. They staged freak shows. Molière shredded hypocrisy in powdered wigs. Charles Dickens dragged Victorian England through the gutter it tried to ignore. Joseph Heller turned bureaucratic madness into 'Catch-22.' Before his comedy went off a cliff, George Carlin stood on stage and tore down empire with a smirk. With 'Four Lions,' a pitch-black comedy about incompetent jihadists, Chris Morris made terrorism absurd. Before that, he had already terrified the British establishment with 'Brass Eye,' a fake news satire so savage it tricked members of Parliament into denouncing fictional drugs on air. Trey Parker made everything absurd, or at least appear absurd. From Mormonism ('The Book of Mormon') to war propaganda ('Team America') to the bloated theater of American politics and celebrity culture ('South Park'), nothing was sacred — and that was the point. Satire doesn't whisper; it slaps. It offends. It remembers what the real world would rather forget. 'Luigi' stands firmly in that lineage — not in spite of the outrage it invites, but because of it. What are we really so scandalized by? The idea of a murderer with a musical number? Please. We've been there before: 'Sweeney Todd,' 'Chicago,' 'Heathers,' 'Assassins.' We have clapped for John Wilkes Booth. We have cheered for razor blades and ricin. What bothers people about 'Luigi' isn't the violence. It's the contemporaneity — the fact that it's still too soon and the wound hasn't scabbed yet. This character, the corporate assassin-turned-accidental folk hero, feels dangerously plausible. Deep down, we know the real absurdity isn't the musical. It is the world that created such a man. We live in a culture that glamorizes sociopathy but gets offended when it's reflected back. Netflix ran 'Dahmer.' You can now buy 'American Psycho' mugs, t-shirts and beanies. 'The Sopranos' has a wine label. Real-life cartel hitmen share their 'wisdom' on TikTok. And yet, when a fringe theater group stages a smart, cynical satire about a real-life killing, we're told it's 'too far'? Get real. 'Luigi' doesn't play by prestige rules. It's too camp. Too gaudy. Too loud. It isn't Oscar-bait. It's black box theater with blood under its nails. And that's why it matters. It's not Netflix. It's not Hulu. It's not a limited series you can binge and forget. It's theater. And theater — real theater — makes you sit with it. The show is Gulag humor for the Uber Eats generation. It weaponizes the ludicrous, stitches viral violence to choreography, turns cellmates like Diddy and Sam Bankman-Fried into Greek chorus figures, and mocks our collective appetite for the borderline insane. 'Luigi'isn't glorifying Mangione. It's not trying to humanize him. It's trying to indict us. The audience. The algorithm. The economy of attention that turns killers into content. The culture that made a young man with a gun a trending topic before the body hit the pavement. This is a country where mass shooters get Wikipedia pages before their victims get autopsied. Where headlines blur into hashtags. Where the line between infamy and influence disappeared sometime around 2014. In that context, 'Luigi' isn't satire. It's realism. But there's a deeper tragedy here — not in the subject matter, but in the medium. Theater is dying — with its empty seats, aging donors and young people who'd rather scroll through cat videos, theater is losing the war for attention, and fast. This makes 'Luigi' both timely and, in some ways, necessary. Perhaps it's too campy. Perhaps it's too crass. Maybe it turns a murderer into a meme with a melody. But you know what? It gets people off their screens. It gets them out of their apartments. It gets them into a room with other humans, watching a live act of provocation unfold in real time. That used to be called art. Now it's called a liability. 'Luigi' won't win prestigious prizes. It might not even last its full run without protests. But it belongs. Theater isn't supposed to be sacred. It's supposed to be a mirror. Sometimes cracked, but always honest. So let them sing. Mangione won't be the last killer to dance under a spotlight. He's just the first one to do it with a chorus line and a cellmate named Diddy. John Mac Ghlionn is a writer and researcher who explores culture, society and the impact of technology on daily life.
Yahoo
14-04-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Analysis: Why the Gulf won't pick a side in the trade war
US President Donald Trump is trying to forge a new economic world order. His attempt to redraw the map of global trade — forcing nations to choose between Washington and Beijing — poses a threat to the Gulf, which is deeply embedded in Asian supply chains while tied to American political and security alliances. But the weaknesses of his strategy and the emergence of domestic opposition against it may allow Gulf countries to wait out the storm and continue positioning themselves as connectors between East and West, North and South. Like most in the American policy establishment, Trump perceives China to be the US' primary strategic rival. Where he diverges is in the solution. Trump's plan emphasizes bifurcating the world economy, and making the US-led bloc as strong as possible. A key facet of this strategy is hyperpolarization: countries will have to be exclusively a member of Team America or be exiled to the void, with no fence-sitting. The Gulf is also being told to make an impossible choice: Decoupling from either the US or China is not just impractical — it's economically and strategically incoherent. Most businesses globally and countries would prefer to maintain access to all stations at the international economic buffet rather than being restricted to the US-led bloc: The US and its current and prospective partners are good at producing certain commodities and services, such as technology and finance, but not so good at activities such as manufacturing. Many countries don't want to restrict their exports to either side. For Trump's plan to succeed, he must use a combination of carrots and sticks. For now, he offers only sticks: American businesses and foreign countries will now have to pay a heavy price unless they submit to US plans, which include reindustrializing the American heartland to improve the country's economic security. Like virtually all countries, the Gulf states have been hit with tariffs equaling 10% or more, in addition to levies on steel and aluminum. However, there are several flaws in this approach. The most important element is that China has been preparing for this day for some time by significantly decoupling from the US economy. It has cultivated strong economic relations with most countries in the world, and positioned itself at the heart of numerous complex supply chains. As a result, bifurcating the world economy is incredibly painful for everyone, including the US. The second problem is the legacy of subpar US strategic planning over the last three decades. Historically — most notably in the immediate postwar era marked by the Marshall Plan — the US had a comprehensive foreign strategy that contained coordinated economic and security components. Today, it has deserted the economic elements, instead becoming fixated on hard military power. China builds bridges, roads, telecommunication towers, trains, and so on, while at the governmental level, the US provides little beyond arms. This situation is worsened by the White House's decision to gut foreign aid programs. This complicates the US efforts to convince the world to suspend economic ties with China. Domestically, Trump's plan is under pressure. The world's largest economy is teetering on the edge of recession, and the sharp decline in stock prices caused by the first round of tariffs indicates that the business community strongly opposes the new strategy. Trump's decision to suspend most tariffs for 90 days is a result of this reality check. For Gulf countries, the optimal strategy is to buy time. For the most part, the tariffs do not have a large direct effect on the Gulf due to the region's eastward trade outlook, so there is little to be gained from expending political capital with Washington for exemptions. The Gulf is affected indirectly due to lower oil prices or as a result of a global economic slowdown, but this is independent of any decision or action the region can make. If the region can close ranks and master the art of non-committal diplomatic flattery, there is a chance that something close to the pre-April status will resume, thereby allowing Gulf countries to maintain their high levels of integration with all elements of the global economy.
