What's fascinating, invigorating, and stimulating is that every decision Donald Trump makes involves the great unforeseen. Knowing that "I knew it was going to happen" only works in the most domestic cases, where, moreover, work is at stake. That "punishment" often comforts the punisher, but doesn't right the punished. That the friends of my friends are my friends, yes, but the enemies of my friends are my enemies. The tycoon accustomed to the risk of the stock market, with advisors he can replace, has made a decision that initially seemed brilliant: that products from outside his country should pay a tithe. This should revive American industry. "If it costs more to buy a Chinese car than one from here, I'll buy the one from here," his subjects would say.
In global and local business, there is always, always the "human factor." Gatius used to buy peas from Romagosa, but now that Romagosa says it won't buy milk from anyone, Gatius may decide he doesn't want peas from Romagosa and instead wants broad beans from Romaguera. For some time now—this is an important detail—China has been planting vineyards, imitating the Bordeaux style, which reflects it. They have all climates, they have sent winemakers to study how the Bordeaux people do it, they have bought wineries and, pay attention, they have even built castles (yes, a Disneyland of wine) imitating those of the greats raw French, who are flooded with visitors. They're already trying to create the style of the great, legendary wines for which they paid huge fortunes. They're not going to pay them anymore. I don't think, however, that Donald Trump is thinking of planting olive trees in Yellowstone. Donald Trump has suffered the same fate as dating show contestants. They arrive, all loud and smiling, and they hold promise. But then they have to explain themselves, and everything falls apart. They seemed vigorous, but they're just histrionics. They seemed orators, but they're just loudmouths. They seemed elegant, but they're just vulgar.
