In early 2024, a friend of mine (let’s call her Jane) launched a skincare startup with a mission that was equal parts personal and global. Her serums blended botanical oils from Southeast Asia with rare extracts from Latin America, promising customers something fresh, clean, and effective.

By mid-year, boutique retailers had taken notice. Online orders were ticking upward. She was finally seeing the promise of her idea come to life until a spreadsheet of customs estimates landed in her inbox. A critical ingredient, once affordable, now carried a tariff surcharge in excess of 100%. Essentially, Jane’s next shipment would cost more in tariffs than the goods themselves.

In the fall of 2008, I was a high school student. By all outward appearances, life should have felt simple: class schedules, teenage distractions, college brochures arriving in the mail. But I remember a different sensation. A slow, quiet panic crept into conversations at the dinner table. Classmates who used to brag about new video games or summer plans began whispering about their parents losing jobs. Distant cousins moved back in with grandparents. And even in my young, largely insulated world, I could feel the walls of certainty shaking.