Trump’s Arithmetic of Make-Believe

This is what happens when slogans outrun spreadsheets; an economy governed by talking points, cheerleaders, and numbers that sound impressive until someone asks to verify them.

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I’ve said it so many times over the years that it’s practically stitched into my DNA: numbers don’t lie—people do. I learned that lesson the hard way, sitting in boardrooms where confidence mattered more than competence and bravado routinely substituted for balance sheets. Which is why listening to this administration talk about tariff revenue feels less like economic policy and more like a rerun of a familiar con—one I recognize because I used to help sell it.

We are now deep into the era of what Trump calls the tariff shelf. You’ve heard about it. It’s apparently stocked with trillions upon trillions of dollars—so many, in fact, that the number changes depending on who’s holding the microphone. One day the President says it’s $23 trillion. The next, $29 trillion. Sometimes it’s a mere $2 trillion. Then, miraculously, overnight, it’s $3 trillion. No explanation. No accounting. Just a bigger number, delivered with a straight face and the expectation that no one will ask where it came from or, more importantly, where it’s being kept.

If this shelf exists, it seems to operate under its own laws of physics—one where money multiplies when spoken aloud and disappears the moment anyone asks to see a receipt.

But here’s where the math emphatically does matter: actual tariff revenue. Let’s do the numbers, because someone has to. Government data show that tariff collections—customs duties—do produce real money, yes, but nowhere near the fantastical scale implied by the administration’s talking points. Hundreds of billions collected through 2025 sounds impressive until you stack it against the trillions they keep citing. Peak months brought in over $30 billion, early months under $10 billion, and total receipts may reach roughly $300 billion by year’s end. That’s less than a third of a trillion. Not one trillion. Not two. Not 29. Even one trillion? Still a fantasy.

And the trend isn’t encouraging. November pulled in $30.76 billion, down slightly from prior months, reflecting weakening imports and shifting supply chains. Over the last month alone, tariff revenue averaged roughly $35 billion. Let that sink in: $35 billion. Enough to make headlines, sure. Enough to fund the dreams of people who believe the “tariff shelf” is a limitless ATM? Not even close. Yet Howard Lutnick, Scott Bessent, and Kevin Hassett trot out these numbers with confidence, giving fantasy the veneer of economic law.

This is how fiction becomes policy. Not through shouting, but through repetition by people who should know better. The math refuses to cooperate. Trillions? Don’t make me laugh. And when policymakers budget based on these fantasies, real promises—real obligations—eventually crash into reality. That’s not opinion. That’s arithmetic.

Because the administration has already spent the money it insists is sitting on that imaginary shelf. On paper, at least. Tariff revenue has been promised to reduce the national debt. It’s been pledged for rebate checks. It’s been earmarked to bail out farmers harmed by trade disruptions. It’s been floated as funding for childcare programs. And in moments of rhetorical enthusiasm, it’s even been suggested as a substitute for federal income taxes altogether.

Same dollar. Five commitments. Zero proof. Zero possibility.

There’s an old accounting rule that says you can’t spend the same dollar twice. In Trump-era economics, the rule seems to be: spend it as many times as necessary, as long as no one asks to see it. I’ve watched this mindset up close. When confidence replaces calculation, the story always sounds better than the spreadsheet—until the spreadsheet shows up.

Reality doesn’t bend to confidence. It doesn’t care if you give it a grin, a press conference, or a cable segment. The “tariff shelf” is a prop. Trillions are fiction. Promises are illusions. And when the ledger finally lands on someone’s desk—unvarnished, unscripted, undeniable—it won’t ask for permission. It will simply expose every overstated claim, every recycled dollar, and every cheerleader who thought repetition could replace math.

In this administration, that day isn’t coming politely—it’s coming like a bill you can’t ignore. And when it does, the applause will die, the grins will vanish, and the shelf? It will be as empty as the promises stacked upon it.

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