There’s a genre of Maga anthropology, known as the “Trump safari”, which involves writers flying into deindustrialised Midwestern towns to ask white working-class people in local diners why they support Donald Trump. The idea is that this demographic’s vote must have cultural underpinnings. By contrast, hardly anyone bothers to examine American businesspeople’s support for Trump, because the presumption is that it’s driven by hardheaded economic self-interest. Their calculation must be that his promised tax cuts and deregulation will enrich both them and the US.
That presumption of hardheadedness requires revisiting now, amid tariff chaos, trillions burned in the stock market, collapsing consumer sentiment as inflation expectations hit a 32-year peak and growing fears of recession. Who knew the global economy was more complex than a zero-sum game? Perhaps businesspeople aren’t so rational after all. Their faith in Trump — call it “Trump Derangement Syndrome” — looks like a cultural phenomenon begging for anthropological study.
Belief in Trump’s economic genius always seemed optimistic. John Cassidy, writing in The New Yorker, warned the “one per cent” nine months ago: “Many of the policies that he and his advisers are openly or privately floating — imposing much higher tariffs on imported goods; carrying out mass deportations of undocumented workers; and engineering a devaluation of the dollar — could raise prices throughout the economy and lead to an inflationary spiral.”
I suspect that businesspeople embraced a businessman largely from cultural kinship. Trump dresses in their style. His amoral language, so offensive to liberals, appeals to businesspeople because it signals that he’ll prioritise profits over any airy-fairy considerations. And he embraces businessmen. Even Steve Witkoff, his chief negotiator on Ukraine and Gaza, is a real-estate investor.
Trump’s love is balm for a group that feels under assault in the American culture wars. Some entrepreneurs still remember Barack Obama’s 2012 sneer: “If you’ve got a business, you didn’t build that.”
Few among us have a nuanced understanding of how the economy works. Even businesspeople tend to use a hermeneutical shortcut of “you choose your cultural tribe” and presume one of their own is best for the economy. Trump’s economic intentions were always particularly opaque because he speaks in untruths. Famously, his supporters take him “seriously but not literally”, meaning they always have to guess at what he’ll do. Many businesspeople imagined a Trump in their own hard-nosed image.
He’s also anti-system, so whatever your personal bugbear about the modern US, well, he must share it. Obama once described himself as “a Rorschach Test”, meaning that everyone saw in him what they wanted. That’s also true of Trump.
Anything he says that seems irrational — tariff wars, or the annexation of Canada — can be dismissed by supporters as a negotiating bluff, or “red meat for the Maga base”, distractions that only hysterical liberals take seriously. Stock-market investors, who voted for Trump with their money, have been bewildered to discover that he genuinely wants those things. His consistent attacks on free trade since the 1980s should have been a clue.
There’s a common belief in corporate America that what’s good for the rich is also good for business, the economy and the US in general. Exhibits A and B are tax cuts and deregulation. However, low-tax Mexico and Turkey are, bafflingly, poorer than high-tax Nordic countries. Perhaps when it comes to economic dynamism, businesspeople overvalue tax-cutting and deregulation, and undervalue the rule of law. Courts enforce contracts and protect property rights. The administration’s willingness to defy judges should frighten the most self-interested CEO. Sure, business leaders can hang around Mar-a-Lago hoping for an audience to plead their case, but not every business can get Trump’s personal protection.
The biggest risk to personal wealth is broad-scale catastrophe. Recent examples include the 2008 financial crisis, Covid-19, and, increasingly, climate change. January’s wildfires in Los Angeles show that drought can already destroy wealth. To prevent catastrophes, or to fix them, as with the rapid rollout of Covid vaccines, rich people should want a functional state.
Which US presidents were best for business? On a crude measure of stock-market growth during their administrations, Bill Clinton was top, with 151 per cent, followed by that closet communist, Obama, on 127 per cent, calculates Paul Whiteley of the University of Essex. Given what Democrats have done for the rich, it’s touching naivety that leads businesspeople to put their faith in Trump.
Email Simon at simon.kuper@ft.com
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