Tod Maffin compares Trump's 35% tariff on Canadian goods to Portal's "cake is a lie" metaphor, arguing the policy is theatrical rather than real. He warns that bullying Canada risks destroying America's reputation and a long friendship built on mutual support.
I remember 9/11. I watched the towers fall. I watched the US president vow revenge. But what I remember most, what really stuck, was the confusion. Americans asking, "Why would they attack us? What did we do to them? Don't they love freedom?" It was like a mirror had cracked. A nation told all of its life that it was the greatest on earth suddenly forced to confront how the rest of the world saw it. For Canadians, it was heartbreaking. Yes, for the obvious reasons— the horror, the grief, the thousands of lives extinguished— but also because we watched our closest friend wake up to something we'd already known something we saw simply because our news didn't point only inward. And now with Trump's new threat yesterday to charge Americans 35% more for all Canadian goods starting in a couple of weeks, it just feels like it's happening all over again. One of my favorite video games is called Portal. In Portal, you are a test subject in some kind of weird a psychological testing facility. You're being guided by a cheerful but sinister AI.
The Enrichment Center promises to always provide useful advice. For instance, the floor here will kill you. Try to avoid it.
Now, by the end, you destroy the computer that's running the whole thing, but as the credits roll, the AI sings to you.
This was a triumph.
I'm making a note here.
Huge success.
And the song It's not angry, it's wistful. The lyrics go, "You broke my heart and killed me and tore me to pieces and threw every piece into a fire, and as they burned, it hurt because I was so happy for you." I feel like that's sort of what Canada feels like right now. America, we have stood beside you for more than 100 years in war, in peace, uh, in the middle of nowhere when your planes had, you know, nowhere to land for 9/11. We helped dig your people out of hurricanes. We sent firefighters to your blazes. We cheered when you reached the moon. And through it all, we were happy for you. Genuinely. We know how much it matters to Americans to be number one. Even if we rolled our eyes a little, deep down We were proud to be your friend. Now the world sees something else. A country whose leaders can't, or won't, understand complexity. Who flatten every issue into a cartoon. Immigrants bad. White Christian men good. Trade partners enemies. Allies freeloaders. These tariffs aren't economic policy, they're theater. The goal isn't just to hit our bottom line, it's to rattle our sense of self. I've read Trump's book on negotiating, by the way. It is clear that he believes that the fastest path to dominance is not to destroy just the economics of the other side, but their spirit. You can see it, it's all out there right now. Tanks in parks, news cameras at mass arrests, retaliation as spectacle. This idea that that, uh, big sticks and economic sledgehammers is all you need to rattle all the other countries of the world is so uniquely, comically American. But Canada is not a market. We're a nation, and our values are not for sale. Not at 35%, not at 85%, not ever. We are a nation built in cold winters with hard hands and big hearts. And I've said this before, but Canada's biggest strength as a nation, at least from my opinion, isn't in trying to be the best. It's that even in the worst of times, we don't give up on each other. This video game I mentioned, Portal, the computer keeps promising you cake if you make it through all the levels. You keep playing along.
The Enrichment Center is committed to the well-being of all participants. Cake and grief counseling will be available at the conclusion of the test.
And then, as you're playing the game, about two-thirds of the way through, you come across a part of the facility that has been damaged. And you realize it's been damaged because a test subject, just like you, who went before you, was trying in vain to escape, and scrawled on the wall is a warning that he wrote: The cake is a lie. That's when you realize it in the game. It was always a lie. The tests, the praise, the chaos, all designed to keep you obedient. And I worry that when this moment passes, when your circus leaves town, America, that the damage will be irreversible. Your reputation burned, your friendships torn, your— your moral authority scattered piece by piece into the fire. And as they burn, it will hurt. Because we were so happy for you.
Ten times Canada helped the U.S. with its wildfires, instead of whining about the smoke. 
