
VIENNA — Grocery store shelves in Vienna are lined with eggs. There are so many that there’s a section of dyed eggs for the upcoming Easter holiday, a tradition that many Americans may skip this year. Prices hover in a range that tops out at five euros (about $5.50) for 10 eggs.
The U.S. had asked Austria and other European Union countries for eggs during the bird flu-caused shortage. Most demurred, pointing to their own growing bird flu issues and the different food safety standards for eggs in Europe. But there is another unspoken yet commonly understood factor behind the decision: tariffs. Why rush to aid the U.S. when President Donald Trump is hitting Europe with tariffs and complaining that the bloc “doesn’t play fair”?
This egg standoff exemplifies the new reality of international trade under Trump’s aggressive tariff regime. As the president imposes sweeping duties — including a stunning 20% tariff on European Union goods announced Wednesday, what Trump called “Liberation Day” — we’re witnessing the birth of a global economy in which countries take petty stands when and where they can.
While nearly every country has announced retaliatory tariffs, nations, businesses and their citizens are increasingly willing to thumb their noses in ways that go beyond extra costs slapped on at ports, touching all levels of commerce. What began as economic policy is rapidly devolving into diplomatic grudge-holding, with everyday items becoming pawns in an escalating game of international spite.
Across Europe, Facebook groups have mushroomed with names like “Boycott USA: Buy French and European!” attracting over 20,000 members in France alone, which seems especially ready for “le boycott.” Similar groups in Sweden and Denmark have each gathered about 80,000 followers sharing strategies to purge American products from their shopping carts. One Danish grocery chain has even introduced electronic tags marking European-made products with black stars to help customers avoid American goods.
Sometimes the retaliation involves more than consumer choices. On March 6, two days after Trump’s Canadian tariffs took effect, Hydro-Québec quietly stopped exporting electricity to New England — a region that typically relies on Canadian hydropower for up to 10% of its electricity, according to Canary Media. The company cited “market conditions,” but the timing raised eyebrows. With summer approaching, New England may soon face higher electricity costs or increased emissions from firing up natural gas and oil plants to compensate.
Even coffee isn’t immune to trade politics. Across Canada, cafes from Toronto to British Columbia have renamed their “Americanos” to “Canadianos” following Trump’s suggestion that Canada might become “the 51st state.” While renamed espresso drinks won’t dent GDP figures, they reflect something economists often miss: how tariffs damage the cultural goodwill that lubricates international commerce.
“It’s good for us to just stand up for being ourselves and reminding other people that we’re not to be pushed around,” William Oliveira, a Toronto cafe owner who made the switch, told The Washington Post.
For a nation that has the Boston Tea Party as one of its foundational creation stories, the reaction shouldn’t be a surprise to Americans. But what makes these petty retaliations concerning isn’t their immediate economic impact — renamed coffees and boycotted Teslas won’t crash the global economy. The real danger is twofold.
Millions of small, seemingly inconsequential acts of consumer defiance may damage the American brand in ways that outlast any formal trade policy. While tariffs can be negotiated away with the stroke of a pen, rebuilding consumer trust and goodwill toward Americans and its products could take a generation.
And then there are the global stakes of it all. When nations can’t cooperate on something as basic as sharing eggs during a shortage, it doesn’t bode well for collaboration on truly existential challenges like climate change, pandemics, or nuclear proliferation.
Today’s petty trade disputes are laying the groundwork for tomorrow’s diplomatic failures on issues where international cooperation isn’t just beneficial — it’s essential.
—Jackie Snow, Contributing Editor