If you're in the graphics or wrap industry and you're wondering what all this talk of tariffs and trade wars has to do with you, the answer is, unfortunately, everything.

In case you’re fortunate enough to be living under a rock, and I genuinely envy you, the US government just announced sweeping tariffs on imports, all in a grand and slightly theatrical effort to claw back its dilapidated manufacturing industry.  And yes, Australia made the list. Not because we did anything wrong, but presumably because we were standing too close to China at the time.

So, does this mean that we’ll be paying more for materials? I’d say so.

The wrap industry in Australia is, for better or worse, dominated by American brands — so much so that it’s impossible to imagine the industry without them. But here’s the twist: many of those proudly American brands are deeply entangled with Chinese manufacturing. Whether they’re sourcing raw materials or quietly importing whole finished products, the supply chain runs straight through Chinese factories powered, poetically enough, by Australian coal.

Now the U.S. wants to bring that manufacturing back home.  Who can blame them?  Like us, they offshored their manufacturing because they thought they could get rich without getting dirty, but after discovering the error in the ways, unlike us, they’ve decided to fix it.  But to do so, you need to erect trade walls high enough to force companies to build locally.  Some will fail. Others will survive, but not without enduring a long, painful period of retooling, retraining, and the general chaos of learning how to make things again.

In the meantime, Australia will be an afterthought.  

So, not only do we get to pay more for imported goods, but we also get kicked in the royalties when China stops buying the coal that powered the factories making them in the first place. We pay both ends of the chain. How good is that?

Of course, the alternative is that American companies continue to import from China, and swallow the tariff.  Oh baby.  But even then, you can expect consolidation.  Brands will scale back their product lines, simplify operations, and retreat from markets they’re not contractually or emotionally obligated to support … which doesn’t include us.

So where does that leave us?

Adrift, mostly. We don’t own the manufacturing, or the brands, or the ports the goods come through. And while I write this, I was interrupted by my landlord, a convenient reminder me that I don’t even own my home.  We’re a nation of renters and importers, so when there’s a disruption in the global economy, we don’t get a say, we just get an invoice.

And yes, of course, we’ll adapt. We always do. We still have our European suppliers — agile and unaffected by American tantrums — and I’m sure they’d happily move in to claim market share. Hell, even Chinese manufacturers are probably eyeing Australia with fresh interest now that they’ve been locked out of the U.S. market.

Why not, the more the merrier.

But in any event, you can expect a firm reset.  Not a glamorous one, but an undeniable one. Installers will pivot, some willingly and some bitterly.  And who knows, maybe in the process we’ll discover even better products and wonder how we managed without them.

But one thing is for certain; the American and Australian wrap industries, which have been so aligned up until now, will drift apart.  How could they not?  We’ll be working with different products, different suppliers, different price pressures, until one day we simply won’t recognise each other anymore.

And perhaps the most uncomfortable part?  We may discover that we never truly did.

So what now?

Well, we could keep blaming the Americans, cursing the Chinese, and pretend that we aren’t solely responsible for our own vulnerabilities.  Or, and it’s long overdue, we could start thinking like the Americans, and take our economic security seriously.  If not personally.

It’s perfectly reasonable to hate what America is doing to us.  We’re equally entitled to admire what it’s doing for itself.  Both can be true.

But what stings the most is the fact that they’re at least doing something,  And if we insist on doing nothing, at the very least, they should let us watch.