When Protectionism Makes Genuine Sense – Even if it Stops Some from Making Money

The debate over tariffs on Chinese electric vehicles has been bubbling across social media, and what’s striking is not the policy detail but the discomfort it creates among the market‑orientated commentariat.

These are people who have spent decades insisting that globalisation is the only sensible economic model, that markets should always set the rules, and that any interference – especially by governments – is a step backwards.

Now, faced with the reality that the UK may need to work with EU partners to protect domestic manufacturers, they are being forced into intellectual contortions that reveal just how brittle their worldview has become.

The friction here is not really about cars. It is about the deeper assumption that the economic model we have – a model built on global supply chains, financial expansion, and the relentless pursuit of growth – is the only one that makes sense.

That assumption rests on a one‑directional pull toward opening trade as far as conceivably possible, because that’s supposedly where growth will be found. And growth, in this worldview, is not about people becoming better off. It is about the creation of yet more money, usually through debt, which pushes up GDP and keeps the financial system ticking over.

This obsession with growth hides a fundamental truth: the growth that markets obsess over is not the same growth that most people experience.

GDP can rise while living standards fall. Productivity can increase while wages stagnate. Asset values can soar while home ownership collapses.

Many people still cling to the myth that political growth will make things better – or at least return life to how it used to be – but the numbers have been going up for years while the lived reality has been going down.

To understand why protectionism now makes sense, we have to understand the money system that made globalisation seem inevitable.

The Money System Behind the Illusion

Modern economies run on fiat money – money created not from physical value but from government authority and, crucially, from debt. When banks issue loans, they create new money. When governments borrow, they expand the money supply. Growth, in the political sense, is simply the expansion of this created money.

For decades, this system worked because the newly created money was tied to expanding production. Factories were built. Goods were made. Jobs were created. Communities thrived. The money had something real behind it.

But once production was moved overseas, the link between money creation and real economic activity broke. We kept creating money – but we no longer created the goods, jobs, or value that once justified it. Instead, the West became dependent on consumption funded by debt, while production was concentrated in China and a handful of other countries.

This is where extraction enters the story.

Extraction: The Hidden Cost of Globalisation

Globalisation didn’t just move factories abroad. It extracted value from every part of Western society:

Extraction of jobs – manufacturing, engineering, logistics, and skilled trades hollowed out.
Extraction of wages – pay stagnated while costs rose.
Extraction of communities – towns built around industry lost their purpose.
Extraction of environmental stability – long supply chains increased emissions and resource depletion.
Extraction of political agency – decisions moved from local hands to global markets.
Extraction of national wealth – profits and production flowed outward, not inward.

Above all, globalisation extracted economic power from people and transferred it to corporations, financial markets, and foreign production hubs.

This wasn’t accidental. It was the design. Globalisation was sold as efficiency, but it functioned as a massive wealth transfer mechanism.

Wealth Transfer: The Real Story

The wealth transfer happened in several layers:

1. From wages to profits

When production moved abroad, labour costs collapsed. The savings didn’t go to consumers – they went to corporations and financial markets.

2. From communities to global supply chains

Local businesses couldn’t compete with imported goods. Wealth drained outward.

3. From national economies to China

The West consumed; China produced. The money followed the production.

4. From real economy to financial economy

As production declined, financial speculation replaced industry as the main driver of “growth.”

5. From future generations to the present

Debt expanded to maintain consumption levels that wages could no longer support.

This is why the system feels hollow: because it is.

The Illusion of Efficiency

Globalisation was sold as efficient. But efficiency is fragile.

Efficiency removes redundancy. Redundancy is what makes systems resilient.

Here, redundancy doesn’t mean job losses. It means resilience. In systems terms, redundancy is the spare capacity, backup options, and local alternatives that keep things functioning when something goes wrong. A resilient economy has multiple sources of essential goods, local production alongside imports, and enough slack in its supply chains to absorb shocks. Globalisation removed this kind of redundancy – not by cutting jobs, but by stripping away the buffers that once protected communities, industries, and national security.

Local supply chains, local production, and local skills were once buffers against shocks. Globalisation removed those buffers. It replaced resilience with fragility, and called it progress.

When shocks hit – a pandemic, a war, an energy crisis – the system broke exactly where it had been hollowed out.

The Curious Love Affair With China

This is where the love affair that politicians, industry aficionados and financial players have with China becomes so curious. They praise China’s industrial might, its manufacturing efficiency, and its ability to produce goods at scale and at speed. But they are blind to the realities underpinning the Chinese powerhouse – just as they are blind to how things really work economically here at home.

China’s industrial strength is real, but its economic model is fragile. It is heavily dependent on exports, deeply entangled in debt, and centrally managed in ways that hide structural weaknesses. The property sector has been in crisis for years. Domestic consumption is too weak to sustain growth. And the country’s manufacturing dominance relies on a global system that assumes stability, cheap energy, and constant demand – none of which can be taken for granted.

Yet Western economies outsourced their industrial base to China under the assumption that globalisation was permanent, stable, and mutually beneficial. They believed that moving production overseas would always be cheaper, always be efficient, and always be safe. But globalisation was never a natural law. It was a confidence game – a system that works only as long as everyone believes it will continue working.

Calling globalisation a Ponzi scheme might be too simple, but calling it a worldwide confidence trick is not far off. It requires constant expansion. It depends on trust rather than resilience. It shifts production far from consumption. And it leaves countries vulnerable if supply chains break, energy prices spike, or geopolitical tensions rise.

The truth that must be reckoned with is this: transferring every conceivable part of industrial production to the other side of the world leaves a serious question hanging in the air. What happens here – and what happens there – when the money system that is the lifeblood of this one-directional process comes to a grinding halt?

AI: The Final Blow to the Globalised Model

If globalisation hollowed out production, AI is now hollowing out what is left of the wage‑earning capacity that once kept the system going.

For decades, the global model relied on a simple loop:

The West consumed goods made abroad.
People earned wages to buy those goods.
Governments and banks created money to keep consumption rising.
China produced the goods that consumption demanded.

But AI breaks this loop. It displaces jobs across sectors – not just manufacturing, which was already offshored, but services, administration, logistics, design, media, and even parts of professional work. The very wage base that kept the consumption‑debt cycle alive is eroding.

We now face a situation where:

We no longer produce the goods.
We no longer earn the wages.
We still create the money – but it has nothing real to attach to.

This is the point where the global system begins to fail. You cannot sustain a consumption‑driven economy when the capacity to earn wages is collapsing. You cannot sustain a debt‑driven money system when the underlying productive base has been hollowed out. And you cannot sustain globalisation when the domestic economy no longer has the means to participate in it.

AI is not the cause of the crisis – it is the accelerant that exposes how fragile the system already was.

The Collapse of Demand

The global system requires:

constant production
constant consumption
constant money creation
constant debt expansion

But:

production moved abroad
wages stagnated
AI reduces earning power
debt has reached saturation
demand is collapsing

Once demand collapses, the entire global system fails – and protectionism becomes not ideological, but practical.

EVs: A Redirection, Not a Solution

EVs are being sold as a technological fix, but they are built on the same flawed logic: extract resources, extract labour, extract wealth, and hope the system holds.

The deeper issue is not the fuel that vehicles use. It is the assumption that we need so many vehicles in the first place – an assumption created by an economic system built around long‑distance commuting, centralised employment, fragmented supply chains, and consumer lifestyles that depend on mobility rather than locality.

EVs change the technology but not the underlying logic.

The System Is Failing – And Protectionism Is Becoming Necessary

We cannot continue like this. Soon we will not be able to.

The system that pointed everything toward China, foreign production, and EVs is falling to its knees. The question is whether we wake up in time to address the real issues while we still have a choice – or whether events will push everything we know straight to the floor.

In this context, protectionism not only makes sense – it becomes essential. Not just for cars, but for everything people genuinely need each and every day.

Media discussions about “upsetting China” are irrelevant compared to the question of more pressing matters such as whether everyone can continue to eat during a prolonged crisis.

Like so many other forms of essential production and supply we have hollowed out the UK’s ability to feed itself. Politicians may say we produce around 60% of our own food, but that figure is misleading. Much of that production depends on imported inputs: fertiliser, feed, energy, machinery, labour. If borders fully closed, the real amount of food ready to go directly to the table is closer to 11%.

That means in a real, ongoing crisis, we could feed roughly one in ten people. And this would potentially be the baseline for as long as it would take to change, develop and reestablish UK systems to produce enough food to meet everyone’s basic and essential needs.

To call this situation stupid would be an understatement. It is a growing structural vulnerability that has been ignored for decades because it was easier to believe that global supply chains were permanent and that crises only ever happened somewhere else.

The Only Viable Path Forward

Locality, localism, and an entirely different system – one that puts people first rather than money first – is now the only answer. And it’s the same for everyone else too.

Protectionism, in this context, is not about nationalism or nostalgia. It is about resilience. It is about ensuring that essential goods are produced close to where they are consumed. It is about rebuilding the capacity to feed, clothe, transport, and sustain ourselves without relying on fragile global systems.

This does not mean closing borders or rejecting trade. It means recognising that trade should complement domestic capability, not replace it. It means building systems that can withstand shocks rather than collapse under them. It means prioritising the basics – food, energy, manufacturing, infrastructure – over abstract financial growth.

The globalised model didn’t fail because of ideology. It failed because it extracted too much, transferred too much, hollowed out too much, and left too little behind.

Protectionism isn’t a political choice. It’s a survival strategy.

Why So Many People Are Struggling – And it Was Never Their Fault | The Hidden Mechanics of an Economy That Works Against Normal Life

A Note from Adam

I haven’t written this because I’ve only just begun to understand these problems. I’m doing so because explaining them has never been easy. Even many academics and economists are so committed to the system we have that they simply cannot see another way. It has always been easier for them to believe that those who are struggling brought it on themselves than to confront the alternative – that the system they defend may feel stable for those who benefit from it, but it is not fair, and it is not how things should be.

The reason for writing this now is simple: people everywhere can feel that things no longer add up. There is a shared concern about what happens next, and we will all face difficult choices in the years ahead. Those choices become harder – and the times become more confusing – if we still don’t understand what is happening or what has caused so many of the problems we now need to move beyond and leave behind.

This essay is an attempt to make that understanding easier. Not to assign blame, not to provoke anger, but to give people a clearer picture of the forces shaping their lives. If we can see the system for what it is, we can begin to imagine something better.

1. The world people think they live in

Money sits at the heart of everything. Every decision, every direction, every journey, every relationship we have today relates to money in some way and at some level, to the point that we don’t even see it or consciously think about it being there anymore.

We think about money in simple terms: as a store of value, and more significantly as the measurement of value for everything we do, need, own and imagine for the future – because that’s the way money works; right?

To many of us, money is real, quantifiable and tangible. It’s like the coins and notes we sometimes still use, and we assume the digital version-the figures on a bank statement, the numbers that move when we tap a card-is just the same thing in another form. We build our lives, our hopes, our sense of security on that assumption.

We are also quietly told a story: that if we work hard, manage our money, avoid “bad choices”, the system will look after us. That wages are fair, that prices are natural, that debt is a personal failing, that the economy is something that happens “out there” while we get on with our lives.

This is the world people believe they inhabit. Familiar. Rational. Moral. And it’s the world that allows the real system to operate without being seen.

2. The first crack in the illusion

What we don’t think about-or in many cases don’t realise-is that the relationship and understanding of money we have is not the same for everyone, and that the way we interact, use, value and respect money makes us vulnerable to its influence, power and presence.

Historically, there was a time when banking really did look like the story we still tell ourselves: deposits, lending, interest, savings. But in the 20th century, something fundamental changed. We moved away from a system where the money in circulation had to relate directly to the amount of gold held-the gold standard-and into a system called fiat, where money is created at will.

Fiat simply means: “let it be so”. Money exists because the system declares it exists.

Today, every pound enters the economy as someone’s debt. Money is not a pile of coins waiting to be lent out; it is a number typed into existence when a loan is made, a bond is issued, or a government borrows.

Yes, you heard that correctly – money today is actually debt.

Most people never realise this. Not because they are foolish, but because nobody ever told them.

While they were living their lives, trusting the system, the system was quietly reshaping the world around them using a logic they were never allowed to see.

The first crack in the illusion appears when you ask simple questions:

If every country is in debt, who is the creditor?
If banks lend money they don’t already have, what exactly are we borrowing?
If money can be created from nothing, why is anyone going without?

Once you see that money is created as debt, you can no longer pretend the system is neutral.

3. The reveal: how the system actually works

Modern money is not mined, earned, or discovered. It is created-conjured into existence through government borrowing, bank lending, and central‑bank intervention.

Every pound enters the economy as someone’s debt; every debt becomes someone else’s asset.

In plain language:

Fiat money: Money that exists because the system says it does, not because it is backed by anything physical.
Credit creation: When a bank types new numbers into your account and calls it a loan. The money did not exist before that moment.
Debt as money: The numbers we call “money” in the system are, in reality, records of who owes what to whom.
Interest: The extra amount that must be paid back on top of the loan. This is not created with the loan; it must be extracted from somewhere else in the real economy.

Every loan requires:

principal
interest
fees

None of that interest is created with the original money. It has to come from someone’s labour, someone’s time, someone’s sacrifice.

So the system works like this:

Money is created as debt. Debt must be repaid with interest. Interest must be taken from the real economy.

The more money is created, the more extraction is required.

This is why:

wages stagnate
public services collapse
housing becomes unaffordable
debt becomes permanent
inequality skyrockets

People are not suffering because the system is broken. They are suffering because the system is working exactly as it should.

4. The consequence: how money creation bought the real world

Before money, people traded directly: food, labour, tools, shelter. Value was agreed in the moment, between people who could see each other and the reality of what they were exchanging.

There were always those who abused power-leaders, warriors, officials who took more than they needed-but they were limited by what physically existed.

Fiat money and credit creation removed that limit.

Money created from nothing has been used to buy everything real.

Banks, asset managers, private‑equity firms, and multinational corporations have used newly created credit to acquire:

public infrastructure
utilities
housing stock
farmland
logistics networks
media companies
technology platforms
entire industries

These purchases were not funded by savings or productive profit. They were funded by credit creation-money that did not exist until the moment it was lent.

Massive swathes of public infrastructure, private property, businesses, and capital ownership have been transferred into private hands not because those buyers had earned the wealth, but because the system gave them access to unreal money with real purchasing power.

Ordinary people, earning wages, paying bills, could never compete with that.

This is why:

housing became an investment class instead of a human necessity
private equity owns half the high street
utilities and transport were sold off and now charge the public for access to what was once collectively owned
monopolies exploded, and “markets” quietly turned into systems of rent‑seeking

At the same time, people at the bottom of this system are told that the minimum wage is enough to live on.

It isn’t.

A wage that cannot cover rent, food, transport, heating, clothing, and basic security is not a living wage; it is a survival wage.

Survival for those on the minimum wage is only possible through:

benefits
charity
debt

No amount of budgeting can fix a wage that was never designed to cover the cost of living. Yet those who struggle are treated as if they are responsible for the plight they are in-told to “manage better”, “work more”, “stop wasting money”-while the system quietly ensures that their struggle continues.

The hardship is manufactured. The shame is manufactured. The dependence is manufactured.

And now, the same mechanism is inflating the AI bubble.

Vast flows of credit are pouring into AI companies whose current productivity and wage‑earning capacity cannot justify their valuations.

The system is funding the very technology that threatens to remove jobs, reduce wages, and undermine the income streams required to service the debt that created the bubble in the first place.

It is the snake eating its own tail: a debt‑based system financing tools that erode the labour base that keeps that system alive.

This is why some of the loudest voices in technology have suddenly begun talking about “AI takeover”, “existential risk”, and “superintelligence”. These narratives function as brakes-attempts to slow down a bubble that could become the straw that breaks the system’s back, if something else doesn’t get there first.

5. The betrayal: people were told this was “responsible economics”

None of this was sold to the public as extraction. It was sold as responsibility.

People were told:

austerity is necessary
inflation is accidental
debt is dangerous (for them)
privatisation is efficient
markets are natural
minimum wage is enough
benefits are a safety net, not a dependency trap

They were told that if they struggled, it was because they had failed-failed to work hard enough, failed to manage money, failed to be “responsible”.

In reality:

debt enriches creditors
inflation enriches asset holders
austerity protects the financial system
credit creation fuels monopolies
monopolies extract from the public
low wages and high costs create permanent dependence on benefits, charity, or debt

People weren’t stupid. They were never shown how the system works. They were never told that money is created as debt, that interest requires extraction, that asset bubbles are funded by credit, that their wages are structurally insufficient by design.

They paid the price for that ignorance in stress, in hardship, in lost opportunities, in lives shortened by deprivation-while others played a game with the system that enriched them far beyond anything they could ever need.

The system creates the struggle. Then it blames the struggling.

That is the betrayal.

6. The moral truth: legalised criminality

Calling this “legalised criminality” is not hyperbole. It is a description of the gap between legality and morality.

The system is legal because the law was written to protect it. The system is criminal in the human sense because it produces harm as a function of its design.

It has cost lives. It has denied peace of mind to millions. It has pushed people into debt, into hunger, into cold homes, into permanent anxiety, simply so that those playing a game with the system can make more and have more than they will ever need themselves.

Many of those who have picked up the intergenerational baton of financial control may not have been fully cognisant of the real‑world consequences of what they were doing. They may have believed the narratives of stability, responsibility, inevitability.

But ignorance is no excuse.

Power comes with responsibility. Paradigm blindness is no longer any kind of excuse when the consequences are fast becoming clear for all to see.

When belief sustains harm, and harm sustains wealth, legitimacy becomes a weapon.

People are suffering not because the system malfunctioned, but because it is functioning exactly as designed: to transfer wealth upward, to protect those who benefit, and to keep those who pay the price believing it is all somehow their fault.

7. The final question: can a system built on harm serve the public good?

The modern financial system is not a neutral tool. It is not a passive framework. It is not a natural evolution.

It is a mechanism-engineered, refined, and defended-that transfers wealth upward under the guise of legitimacy.

Its power comes from belief. Its consequences are real. Its impact is visible everywhere: in debt, in inequality, in collapsing services, in rising hardship, and in the ownership of the physical world.

People have been duped into thinking this is stability. But stability for the system has meant instability for everyone else.

So the question is no longer whether the system is moral.

The question is whether a system built on belief, extraction, and harm can ever truly serve the public good-and if not, what we are prepared to do once we finally see it for what it is.

A Reflection

It would have been very easy to write something that simply tears the economy apart, lists everything that is wrong, and leaves people with nothing but frustration – as too many still do. But that has never been my purpose. I am a solutions person. I believe in something better for everyone, and I have believed that for a long time.

I’ve been on the wrong end of the system myself, and my time as a councillor and local government officer brought me face to face with the cold, hard reality that the “legitimacy” of the system has carried enormous weight. It has taken many otherwise intelligent and caring people with it, convincing them that the harm it causes is somehow necessary, deserved, or is simply unavoidable.

I don’t agree.

The turbulence we are beginning to experience – and the uncertainty of what lies ahead – may offer humanity an opportunity for change of a kind it has never had before. That is why I have spent years developing structures and systems like the Basic Living Standard and the Local Economy and Governance System: practical foundations for a people‑first system rather than a money‑first one. These ideas are not abstract theories; they are workable designs for a fairer future.

I hope readers will take time to explore the work I have published, and I will always be happy to answer any questions I can. Understanding what has gone wrong is only the first step. What matters most is what we choose to build next.

Why So Many People Are Struggling Download