A familiar instrument of pressure has returned to the hands of a familiar player. Donald Trump's threat of 25-per-cent tariffs on Canadian goods — tied to conditions no nation can fully satisfy — is less a policy position than a recurring negotiating ritual, one that rewards panic and punishes premature concession. Canada now faces not a single crisis but the opening chapter of a long contest, and how it responds in these early moments will shape the terms of every confrontation that follows.
Trump's tariff threats: Canada's four-year negotiating gauntlet begins
No country can stop all fentanyl smuggling. He's set an impossible test.
So Trump says stop all fentanyl smuggling or face 25-per-cent tariffs. That sounds like a clear condition. Why can't Canada just do it?
Because no country can stop all fentanyl smuggling. The U.S. government's own data says Canada isn't even a major source of it. He's set an impossible test.
But wait—is the U.S. government actually saying Canada isn't a major source, or is that the analysis in the piece? I want to know what the official position is.
Fair point. The piece cites U.S. government data, but it doesn't quote a specific official or agency saying so. That's a gap.
Okay, so assuming the premise is right—that it's impossible—why would Trump make an impossible demand?
Because it works. He gets concessions while the demand is being debated. He did it with NAFTA renegotiation. He signed the new deal and then imposed steel and aluminum tariffs anyway.
So the pattern is: threaten, collect concessions, move the goalposts. Has he actually said what comes next after fentanyl?
Not yet. But Lilly suggests he could demand higher defence spending, dropping digital sales taxes, or changes to the USMCA itself.
What's Canada's actual leverage here?
Oil, mainly. Tariffs on Canadian oil would hurt the U.S. economy. But Canada would have to be willing to use that threat, and right now the premiers are panicking.
Are they panicking, or are they being strategic? Legault said make the border a priority—that's not panic, that's positioning.
True. But the piece says Canada is "negotiating against itself," which suggests the provinces are undercutting each other.
What did Mexico do differently?
Sheinbaum said Mexico has already done a lot to reduce illegal migration and warned she'd retaliate with her own tariffs. She didn't panic.
But we don't know if Mexico's threat is credible or if it will actually deter Trump. That's still an open question.
So what should Canada actually do?
Lilly says acknowledge the shared problem, propose real cooperation, build political opposition to tariffs in the U.S., and prepare retaliatory tariffs of its own. But recognize this is a four-year marathon.
The Pulse
- Trump has set an impossible condition — the complete cessation of fentanyl flows from Canada, a country U.S. data shows is not a primary source — ensuring the threat can never be fully defused on his terms.
- Canadian premiers are already negotiating against themselves, rushing to offer concessions before any tariff has been imposed, while Mexico's president signalled defiance and promised retaliation.
- Experts warn that capitulation now only confirms the tactic works, inviting future threats on defence spending, digital taxes, and whatever else Trump chooses to attach to the next ultimatum.
- Canada's real leverage lies in retaliatory tariffs on American goods, in mobilizing U.S. Republicans with cross-border business interests, and in refusing to treat each threat as an isolated emergency.
- This is not a negotiation with a finish line — it is the first move in a four-year pattern, and Canada's preparation, or lack of it, will define the entire arc.
A familiar instrument of pressure has returned to the hands of a familiar player. Donald Trump's threat of 25-per-cent tariffs on Canadian goods — tied to conditions no nation can fully satisfy — is less a policy position than a recurring negotiating ritual, one that rewards panic and punishes premature concession. Canada now faces not a single crisis but the opening chapter of a long contest, and how it responds in these early moments will shape the terms of every confrontation that follows.
Donald Trump has found a negotiating weapon he intends to use repeatedly, and Canada is only now beginning to understand what that means. His threat to impose 25-per-cent tariffs on all Canadian goods unless fentanyl trafficking and illegal migration stop entirely is, on its surface, a demand. Look closer and it is something else: a condition no country can meet, attached to a threat designed to generate panic and extract concessions.
This is a pattern with a history. Trump used tariff threats throughout the renegotiation of NAFTA, signed the resulting USMCA deal, and then imposed tariffs on Canadian steel and aluminum anyway. He returns to tariffs because they work — not as trade policy, but as leverage. Each time someone gives him something, the tool is validated and readied for the next use.
Canada is already showing signs of negotiating against itself. Provincial premiers have called the threat an enormous risk and urged Ottawa to comply. Mexico's president took the opposite approach, pushing back and warning of retaliation. The contrast matters. Experts like Carleton University's Meredith Lilly argue Canada should frame border security as a shared problem, engage American politicians — especially Republicans with economic ties to Canada — and prepare retaliatory measures quietly but seriously.
Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland has pointed to the USMCA and Canada's alignment on Chinese electric vehicle tariffs as proof of good faith. But Trump can attach new demands to the same agreement at any moment. Defence spending, digital taxes, supply management — the list is bounded only by his willingness to reach for the threat again.
What Canada must absorb is this: the tariff threat is not an event to be resolved and set aside. It is the opening move in a contest that will run the length of a presidency. The country needs retaliatory options ready, a political coalition inside the United States, and the discipline not to concede everything before the game has properly begun.
Donald Trump has discovered a negotiating weapon he intends to use repeatedly over the next four years, and Canada is about to learn what that means. On Monday night, he threatened to impose 25-per-cent tariffs on all Canadian goods unless the country stops fentanyl trafficking and illegal migration into the United States. The demand sounds straightforward until you examine it closely: Canada is not a major source of fentanyl entering America, according to U.S. government data itself. Stopping the flow entirely—not reducing it, but stopping it completely—is the actual condition. It is a test that no country can pass.
This is Trump's pattern. He makes a large threat, waits for panic to set in, collects concessions, and then moves on to the next demand. He did it during the renegotiation of the North American Free Trade Agreement. He signed the new USMCA deal in 2018 and then imposed tariffs on Canadian steel and aluminum anyway. He loves tariffs because they fit his view of trade deficits, because he believes they could lower U.S. income taxes, and most importantly because they work as a tool he can deploy again and again without exhausting its power. Each time he uses it, someone gives him something he wants.
Canada is already negotiating against itself. Quebec Premier François Legault called the threat an enormous risk and demanded the federal government make the border its top priority. Alberta Premier Danielle Smith said Trump's concerns are valid and Ottawa should do whatever it takes to avoid the tariffs. There is a rush to comply, a scramble to offer concessions before the threat becomes real. Mexico's president, Claudia Sheinbaum, took a different approach. She said Trump was unaware of what Mexico had already done to reduce illegal migration and warned that Mexico would retaliate with its own tariffs. The contrast is instructive.
Meredith Lilly, who holds the Simon Reisman chair in international economic policy at Carleton University, argues that Canada should acknowledge drug trafficking and border security as shared problems and propose genuine cooperation with the United States. She also suggests Canada should lobby American politicians—particularly Republicans with business interests in Canada—to make the case that Canada's border is not the real problem. Canada has leverage, she notes. Tariffs on Canadian oil would hurt the American economy. But Lilly emphasizes that this is a marathon, not a sprint. Trump is unique in his willingness to link non-trade issues to trade negotiations and to threaten tariffs repeatedly.
Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland has pointed to the signed USMCA agreement and Canada's alignment with the U.S. on tariffs against Chinese electric vehicles as evidence of cooperation. But Trump can use tariff threats to demand more from that same deal. He could threaten tariffs to force Canada to increase defence spending, drop its digital sales taxes, or both. The list of possible demands is limited only by his imagination and his willingness to use the threat.
Canada must prepare for what is coming. The country needs to quietly develop its own retaliatory tariffs and be ready to use them. Canadian leaders cannot rush to accept every demand. They must build a constituency within the United States against tariffs, especially among Republicans who depend on trade with Canada. Most crucially, Canada must understand that this tariff threat is not an isolated event. It is the opening move in a four-year pattern. There will be another threat after this one is resolved, and another after that. The negotiating gauntlet has begun.
Notable Quotes
We have to meet him on the substance of whatever issue he is raising, but we also have to take a big breath and step back and look at the bigger picture. It is a marathon.— Meredith Lilly, Simon Reisman chair in international economic policy at Carleton University