Canada’s latest trade maneuver smells like a surrender to common sense. Prime Minister Mark Carney scrapped a digital services tax that had American tech giants like Amazon and Google in its crosshairs, prompting U.S. President Donald Trump to agree to restart trade talks. It’s a move that shows even progressive leaders can bend when economic reality bites.
Fox Business reported that Carney’s decision to ditch the tax and resume negotiations with Trump aims to secure a comprehensive trade deal by July 21, 2025. The digital tax, launched in June 2024, slapped a 3% levy on revenue from large tech firms engaging with Canadian users.
Trump, never one to mince words, called it an “egregious” overreach and promptly halted trade discussions last Friday.
Carney’s tax was a bold but shaky play from the start. Modeled after a similar European Union policy, it targeted U.S. tech behemoths while conveniently ignoring Canada’s economic reliance on American markets. The policy screamed virtue signaling, but it risked a trade war with the U.S., Canada’s largest trading partner.
Trump didn’t just sit idly by. He took to Truth Social, slamming Canada for “copying” the EU and declaring all trade talks terminated “effective immediately.” His post was classic Trump—blunt, unapologetic, and a clear signal that he wouldn’t tolerate what he saw as economic bullying.
Canada’s Department of Finance quickly backpedaled, announcing Sunday that the tax collection, set for June 30, 2025, would be halted.
Legislation to fully rescind the Digital Services Tax Act is now in the works. It’s a rare admission that not every progressive tax scheme is a winner.
The roots of this drama trace back to the G7 summit in Kananaskis, Alberta, on June 16, 2025. Carney and Trump met there, shaking hands on a plan to finalize a new economic agreement within 30 days. But the digital tax soured the mood, derailing those lofty ambitions faster than a Calgary snowstorm.
Trump’s frustration wasn’t just about tech taxes. He’s long griped that Canada is “a very difficult Country to TRADE with,” pointing to tariffs as high as 400% on U.S. dairy products. For a president who campaigned on putting America first, Canada’s tax felt like a personal affront.
Carney, speaking at a campaign rally in Calgary on April 8, 2025, had pitched the tax as a way to level the playing field.
But leveling the field doesn’t mean much when your biggest trading partner is ready to walk away. The rally rhetoric now looks like a misstep, overshadowed by the need to keep trade flowing.
Canada’s economy leans heavily on the U.S., as the largest importer of American exports and one of the top three sources of U.S. imports. Any disruption in this relationship hits Canadian businesses and consumers hard. Carney’s tax retreat reflects a pragmatic pivot to protect those ties.
The U.S. isn’t playing soft either. Trump warned that within seven days, Canada would learn the tariff it must pay to keep doing business stateside. It’s a reminder that trade negotiations under Trump are less about diplomacy and more about hardball.
Canada’s Department of Finance tried to spin the tax reversal as a step toward “a mutually beneficial comprehensive trade arrangement.”
But let’s be real: this was about dodging Trump’s wrath and keeping the border open for Canadian goods. The rosy language can’t hide the urgency.
“Consistent with this action, Prime Minister Carney and President Trump have agreed that parties will resume negotiations,” the department added, eyeing a deal by July 21, 2025. The timeline is tight, and the stakes are higher than a Rockies peak. Failure could mean new tariffs and economic pain.
Canada’s already feeling the heat from 50% duties on steel and aluminum, though it dodged broader tariffs Trump slapped on others in April.
Those duties are a sore point, and the digital tax only poked the bear further. Carney’s reversal is a calculated move to avoid the worst.
Trump’s complaints about Canada’s dairy tariffs highlight another wrinkle in these talks. He’s not wrong—400% levies on U.S. milk and cheese are steep, and they’ve long frustrated American farmers. Any new deal will likely demand concessions here, putting Carney in a tough spot.
