The world is currently perched on the edge of a jagged, rust-covered cliff, staring down at the abyss of a global trade war, and the most exhausting part isn't the impending fall—it’s the lingering hesitation. We are being treated to the spectacle of Donald Trump, a man whose intellectual depth could be measured with a thimble, dangling the threat of universal tariffs like a toddler holding a hand grenade and demanding more juice. The "dealmaker" has, for the moment, withheld the full force of his protectionist wrath, and the global markets are reacting with the twitchy, pathetic anxiety of a stray dog waiting for a kick. It is a masterclass in psychological torture for the investor class, and frankly, it’s the only entertaining thing about this entire terminal decline.

The premise of the question currently haunting the financial pages—"Would an all-out trade war be better?"—is a testament to how profoundly broken our collective psyche has become. We are so tired of the suspense, so weary of the performative posturing, that we are actually contemplating whether a total systemic collapse would be more "efficient" than this slow-motion car crash. It’s the economic equivalent of asking if you’d rather have your arm sawn off slowly with a butter knife or obliterated instantly by a wrecking ball. The result is the same, but at least the wrecking ball has the decency to be quick about it. This hesitation, this pause before the plunge, is simply a delay of the inevitable.

On one side, we have the Trumpian cult of the tariff, a group that views complex global supply chains with the same nuanced understanding a caveman brings to a fire. They believe that by slapping a twenty percent tax on everything that crosses a border, they will somehow magically resurrect the soot-stained industrial glory of 1954. It’s a fantasy built on a foundation of resentment and a complete refusal to understand how money actually works. To these people, "trade" is a zero-sum game where if someone else has a nickel, it must have been stolen from a hard-working American’s pocket. It’s a worldview fueled by lead paint and a desperate need for a villain, ignoring the reality that their own standard of living is subsidized by the very "globalism" they claim to despise.

On the other side, we have the "free trade" technocrats—the performative ghouls of the neoliberal establishment. They are currently wringing their hands in Davos and D.C., weeping for the "rules-based international order" as if that order wasn't just a fancy way of saying "a system where we outsource poverty to the Global South while we pat ourselves on the back for cheap flat-screen TVs." They pretend to be the adults in the room, but they are just as responsible for this mess. They ignored the hollowing out of communities for decades, and now they are shocked—simply shocked—that the peasants have found a leader who promises to burn the whole manor down. Their sudden concern for the global economy is about as sincere as a lobbyist’s smile.

The irony of Trump’s current "restraint" is that it’s arguably more damaging than the actual tariffs would be. Markets, those fickle, soulless entities we worship like ancient gods, hate uncertainty more than they hate poverty. By not pulling the trigger yet, Trump keeps the world in a state of perpetual flinch. Businesses can’t plan, investors can’t bet, and the rest of us just sit here watching the price of avocados and electronics creep upward as "anticipatory inflation" takes root. It’s a masterful display of incompetence masquerading as strategy. The delay isn't a sign of prudence; it’s just the lethargy of a bully who hasn't quite decided which window to smash first.

Why would an all-out trade war be better? Because it would finally force a confrontation with the reality that our global economic model is a house of cards built on a swamp. An all-out war would provide the "creative destruction" that economists love to bloviate about, though there’s usually a lot more destruction than creativity involved. It would strip away the veneer of cooperation and reveal the world for what it is: a collection of bickering tribes trying to hoard scraps while the planet burns. It would expose the hollowness of both the populist’s isolationist dream and the globalist’s bloodless efficiency.

The Right wants to build walls made of taxes; the Left wants to manage the decline with inclusive language and carbon credits. Neither has the slightest interest in the fact that the average person is being ground into dust by the friction between the two. We are being held hostage by the whims of a man who thinks "asymmetric warfare" is something you do with a golf club, and the only alternative being offered is a return to the same status quo that birthed this nightmare in the first place. So yes, let’s have the trade war. Let’s watch the retaliatory tariffs fly like poison-tipped arrows. If we are going to be stupid—and as a species, that is our primary setting—we should at least be spectacular about it. The cost of Trump’s avoidance is just the prolonged agony of a dying system. An all-out war would be the mercy kill.