The Hidden Cost of Buying American

Tariffs raise prices—even when you shop local

Apr 14, 2025

One morning last week, somewhere between my first sip of coffee and the last bite of breakfast, I started thinking about global trade. Not in an abstract, textbook kind of way—just by looking at what was left on the plate in front of me.

The coffee in my mug? Roasted by my friends at Idou Coffee Co. in Pennsylvania and shipped to my house once a month. It’s some of the best coffee I’ve ever had. But the beans? They were grown in Brazil. The skyr in my bowl? Made here in the U.S. by an Icelandic company that imports its cultures and recipes from Iceland. The banana? Almost certainly from Central America. The pineapple? Probably Costa Rica.

Technically, the United States does grow coffee and pineapples in Hawaii. But Hawaiian farms couldn’t begin to supply every coffee drinker and pineapple eater in the U.S. That’s the whole point of trade: countries specialize in what they’re relatively good at—then they trade for the rest. It’s efficient. It works. Until politicians decided to make it more expensive.

There’s been a growing chorus—mostly political commentators—saying that consumers can avoid those higher prices by simply buying American. It sounds simple, but it’s not.

Tariffs Are Taxes—But Not on Other Countries

Last week, the White House announced a new round of tariff adjustments. Most rates have been cut to 10%—unless you’re dealing with Canada, Mexico, or China. In that case, buckle up. Imports from China now carry a 145% tariff. That’s not a typo.

Some political commentators, like Charlie Kirk, have responded with a simple solution: just buy American. No imports, no tariff, no problem. But that advice misses how modern economies actually work. Tariffs impact the parts and pieces that come together to make that product—long before it ever reaches your shopping cart.

And here’s the part certain politicians purposely leave out: tariffs are taxes on consumers, not foreign countries. When a U.S. business buys something from China, they’re the ones paying the tariff. That cost gets passed along the supply chain—markups added at each step—until it lands on your receipt. We’re not taxing China. We’re taxing Americans who want to buy things from China.

And sometimes, even Americans who want to buy things made in America.

Even The Florida Orange Isn’t as American as You Think

Let’s talk about orange juice. We grow a lot of oranges in the U.S.—especially in Florida and California—but we don’t grow enough to meet demand. Last year alone, the U.S. imported more than 500 million pounds of oranges and more than 552 million gallons of orange juice, mostly from Mexico and Chile.

But let’s say you grab a carton of “Florida orange juice” from the grocery store. Seems like a safe bet to avoid those pesky tariffs, right? Well, not exactly.

To produce the oranges that would eventually become your juice, the farmer still needs fertilizer—some of which comes from countries like Canada. The tractors used to harvest the fruit might be assembled in the U.S., but their engines or hydraulic systems could come from Canada, Mexico, Japan, or South Korea.

Once picked, the oranges are cleaned, juiced, and packaged. The plastic containers? Often made with resin sourced from overseas. The machines that pasteurize and bottle the juice likely use imported parts. Even the labels might be printed on equipment from Europe or Asia.

Then the juice has to get to your local grocery store. It’s loaded into refrigerated trucks—vehicles that likely rely on foreign-made transmissions or semiconductors. The coolant in those trucks? Another potential import. Each step of the supply chain touches a global network.

By the time that orange juice shows up at your local grocery store—stocked under lights from overseas, scanned on a register made in China, and shelved on fixtures sourced globally—you’re still feeling the effects of tariffs. Even if the oranges were grown in Florida, the final product has taken a long, international journey to your fridge.

So when politicians and commentators tell you to “buy American” to avoid tariffs, they’re skipping over an important reality: there’s no such thing as a 100% American product anymore. Tariffs hit all the invisible pieces along the way—and you end up paying for all of them.

Final Thoughts

We knew prices were going to go up. Economists rarely agree on much, but on this they’ve been remarkably united: tariffs raise prices for consumers. It wasn’t a mystery. It wasn’t even controversial. But the political messaging suggested otherwise. We were told other countries would foot the bill. That’s not how tariffs work, and they were counting on most people not asking too many questions.

Now we’re living with the consequences.

Whether it’s the price of orange juice, electronics, clothing, or construction materials, Americans will foot the bill—not because tariffs are broken, but because this is exactly how they’re designed to work. And even if you try to dodge the tax by “buying American,” you’re still not in the clear. Higher demand for domestic goods drives those prices up too. That’s basic supply and demand.

Supporting American businesses is a noble choice. But it should be just that—a choice. Not something people are forced into because their usual options have been priced out of reach. And when everyone is nudged toward the same smaller pool of goods, it’s lower-income consumers who get squeezed the most. After several years of battling inflation, the average U.S. household is now expected to pay about $3,800 more per year because of tariffs.

We can debate the long-term strategy behind tariffs, but in the short term, they’re a tax—on everyone. And no amount of patriotic shopping will keep them from showing up on your grocery bill.

The Hidden Cost of Buying American

Tariffs raise prices—even when you shop local

Tariffs Are Taxes—But Not on Other Countries

Even The Florida Orange Isn’t as American as You Think

Final Thoughts

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