The Trump Retail Revolution

How tariffs could trigger the most dangerous habit of all: restraint

My firm regularly met with entrepreneurs who’d created novel products they wanted help selling. No matter how promising we thought their ideas were, we relayed the same hard truth: getting people to buy something new is very difficult because we are all creatures of habit. You can tempt with trial offers or deep discounts, but that doesn’t guarantee a repeat purchase. It takes very good marketing and millions in spend to establish new buying behaviors.

I was reminded of these meetings when President Trump recently announced that girls could get by having fewer dolls to justify his tariffs on Chinese goods. He later added that children could make do with fewer pencils as well.

While likely true, his assertions run counter to typical political messaging. I suspect US corporate leaders are watching in alarm because they know once consumers learn to be satisfied with less, retailers will face the same challenge as those entrepreneurs we cautioned. Convincing customers to return to their previous spending levels will require an enormous marketing effort.

Photo by Andrew Ling on Unsplash

Imagine if Trump said to Zara or H&M (fast fashion brands), “Your customers don’t need to buy new outfits every week.” Or if he said to Amazon, “Your users don’t need to subscribe to diapers and paper towels. They can reuse cloth.”

That’s not farfetched. It’s actually exactly what he said about dolls and pencils, just scaled up. All of these retailers import from China and other nations, and very little of their inventory is even partially American made. If a customer who spends $100 weekly with them suddenly buys 80% less due to spiking prices or lowered availability, those businesses will feel the hit quickly.

Perhaps some argue (as the Trump administration does) that it’s only temporary. It’s a shared sacrifice to help America reclaim its global position. OK, but if it lasts more than a few months, the new habits people form will be difficult to undo.

Habit Forming

Americans consume constantly. We have been conditioned for decades to expect infinite choice, convenience, and global affordability. In times of financial stress or a calamity like 9-11, our leaders have instructed us to rescue the economy by shopping. Any restriction of this feels punitive and disruptive.

As the tariffs take hold and shelves become empty, a multi-part psychological realignment kicks in. The first phase is characterized by resistance and rationalization. Constraints like tariffs (or vaccines or mask wearing) are often seen as attacks on personal freedom. This triggers defiance or loop-hole seeking behavior. Shoppers will complain, rationalize any workarounds they figure out, or blame Biden.

If there’s no remedy within a few weeks, then people will move to the next, more impactful stage: adaptation and compensation. How this stage looks can vary.

Some buyers will stop resisting and instead find substitutes, for example continuing to shop frequently but going to consignment or second hand stores. Others will “cheat” by shifting their purchases to sellers who can bypass the tariffs, like international online sites they find through social media. Still others will compensate by overspending in other areas. Someone who’s no longer able to buy their favorite tequila may make up for the loss by getting weekly massages.

These options won’t prevent people from becoming increasingly frustrated, particularly if they can’t find substitutes at an affordable price (nearly half of all we buy relies on imports). That feeling of impotence leads to anger and distrust aimed squarely at the government and fueling acts of defiance. For example, a person might adapt to less spending reluctantly, but then stick with it just to spite the leaders who imposed it.

But the real and lasting damage that happens in this phase is that these new behaviors can become habits.

Habits stick through a formula described as “cue, routine, and reward reinforcement.” A cue is whatever triggers the new behavior. In this case, the scarcity and price increases caused by the tariffs. The routine is the new behavior the cue prompts. President Trump is suggesting we all be satisfied with less. The reward is what our brain or our identity gets out of the new routine. In this instance, it might be less stress, the pleasure of saving money, or maybe just a simpler lifestyle.

If the scarcity lasts long enough (1-2 months), and people find habits that feel rewarding to them, the new routines become permanent.

A recent example of how this formula works is alcohol consumption. For decades, authorities cautioned people to reduce their consumption of alcohol, but nothing changed. Then influencers started suggesting that drinking was bad for fitness and brain health. In 2024, alcohol consumption per person in the U.S. declined by 3%, the most significant drop since the Prohibition era, bringing it to the lowest level since 1962. This very ingrained habit changed because people were cued to improve their health, added mocktails and zero alcohol beer to their routine, and found reward in their new semi-sober state.

Like a digital detox, a period of forced low consumption might feel freeing and convince people they can do with far fewer things.

We’ve seen temporary scarcity lead to long-term behavior change before, especially if the experience is emotionally charged. Anyone with a grandparent who lived through the Great Depression or WWII rationing saw first-hand the lifelong behavior change. They were more selective in what they purchased. They studiously avoided waste, sometimes obsessively. And they often experienced a lingering distrust of abundance, even when it returned.

Any shortage or price spike that feels unjust, difficult, or eye-opening, could nudge consumers into a more minimalist or values-based mindset that doesn’t go away even when the tariffs end.

A Silver Lining?

If someone discovers they can live with less and finds it emotionally rewarding, these new behaviors become part of their identity. We might hear comments like “I stopped buying fast fashion during the tariff months, and I don’t miss it.” or “I realized I was wasting money on tech I didn’t need.” When that happens, the shift isn’t just economic. It’s a philosophical stance.

This transformation has several distinct implications, some problematic and some beneficial.

For retailers, it’s troubling. Lifting restrictions won’t reset buying patterns. The U.S. retail market, valued at over $5 trillion, won’t collapse, but even modest reductions could devastate sectors dependent on impulse purchases and frequent shopping. How will discount chains like Dollar Stores or off-price retailers like T.J.Maxx induce customers to return in droves to purchase plastic decorations or new handbags? How will Amazon reignite online shopping sprees? It will take years, maybe decades, to rebuild the volume they currently enjoy.

On the flip side, any reduction in consumption and production will be great for the environment. Fewer manufactured goods means decreased resource extraction, lower carbon emissions from production and shipping, and less waste entering landfills. This unintended environmental dividend creates an ironic possibility: an administration skeptical of climate change might inadvertently advance environmental goals through its risky, ill-advised economic policy.

Finally, the most lasting effect of this disruption could heighten awareness of America’s manufacturing capacity and the value of our trade connections. If millions suddenly recognize they can’t “buy American” because that infrastructure no longer exists, it could spark meaningful conversations about industrial policy. This realization might generate bipartisan support for strategic manufacturing investments or, conversely, better educate citizens about the benefits and inevitability of global trade networks.

These longer term outcomes remain speculative and will arise slowly, but our immediate opportunity is clear: we can use this shock to the system to decide what we value and how much of it we actually need.

Your Turn

I’ve already started thinking about what I will consume less of if the tariffs stay in effect. I love buying from consignment so that’s an easy option. I also like to sew, although most fabric is imported. We won’t need new cars for years, but coffee? I’ll pay more for that. What about you?

1. What could you easily cut back on?

2. What would be extremely difficult to give up?

3. How would you compensate for restrictions on “retail therapy”?

If you feel this post should be shared, please hit the ❤️ “Like” button below. That tells the algorithms to promote it to others.

---

If you’re new here, an algorithm probably guided you. In that case, I recommend you confirm who I am, where my expertise lies, and what biases I may bring to my posts. If you want to read more, my foundational post, The Hidden Influence of Branding in American Politics is a good starting point.