

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
The rising costs that small business owners are paying for imports due to President Donald Trump’s trade tariffs, a tax on American consumers and businesses, is roiling mom-and-pop shops across the US.
According to the Pew Research Center, Americans have big trust in small businesses versus big corporations.
Mom-and-pop shops will need that positive vibe and more as they approach the make-or-break year end business season, beginning with Small Business Saturday on November 29. While small business owners can’t compete on prices with larger companies, there are other factors in play such as personal service. Nevertheless, prices of goods and services do matter, so the rising costs that small business owners are paying for imports due to President Donald Trump’s trade tariffs, a tax on American consumers and businesses, is roiling mom-and-pop shops across the US.
On April 2, 2025, Trump announced that he was via tariffs “enacting fair trade policies that will restore our workforce, rebuild our economy, and finally put America First.” According to Small Business Administration Administrator Kelly Loeffler, mom-and-pop shops would reap a bounty of benefits from tariffs on imports from global trading partners: “Small businesses will no longer be crushed by foreign governments and unfair trade deals. Instead, we will put American industry, workers, and strength FIRST.”
How are these claims working out on Main Street? We turn to Fabrice Moschetti, owner of Moschetti Artisan Roasters, in Vallejo, California. Imported coffee he buys from Brazil was tariff-free until the president imposed a baseline “reciprocal tariff” of 10% on imported goods globally, then increased tariffs on Brazilian imports another 40% in July because the government of Brazil was prosecuting its past President Jair Bolsonaro, awaiting a 27-year prison sentence on appeal currently after conviction for planning a military coup against his successor, Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva.
"At this point, we've transitioned from working for profits to working for tariffs. We are just in business to pay off our tariff debt."
It’s been a struggle to find an adequate supply of coffee, according to Moschetti, forcing him to truck it in from cities such as Seattle versus the nearby Port of Oakland. "It's been difficult to tell the mom-and-pop owner-operators who we work with that our prices are increasing 40%," he says.
While Trump recently rolled back the 40% tariffs on coffee imports from Brazil, tariffs on imports from other global trading partners remain in place. Two examples of tariff-price hikes on imports are bags and cups made abroad in China.
Dan Anthony is the executive director of We Pay the Tariffs (WPT), a Washington, DC-based coalition of small businesses. Its aim is to advocate for policies that address the negative impacts of tariffs.
Strength in numbers is a political strategy that confronts the money-power of big banks, corporations, and the wealthy. It’s a strategy that faces enormous obstacles, economically and politically.
Meanwhile, presidential tariffs totaled $120 billion paid on US imports from March to August 2025, according to Anthony. That $120 billion compares with the spending on the National School Lunch Program and related programs for 12 months.
Joann Cartiglia is the owner-operator of The Queen's Treasures in Ticonderoga, New York. Her doll accessories and toy company is struggling with tariff-driven inventory shortages as the make-or-break holiday season approaches, according to Cartiglia. American companies paid $1.2 billion in tariffs on toy imports for the year ending in August 2025, a spike of 22.3% from 0% the past year, according to WPT, based on Census data. Meanwhile, toy imports grew 0.1% between August 2024 and August 2025.
Jared Hendricks is the owner of Village Lighting Co. in West Valley City, Utah. "We're approaching a $1 million in tariffs this year that weren't in the budget,” he says, “weren't in the forecast, and frankly, weren't in the cash flow, so we had to finance that. At this point, we've transitioned from working for profits to working for tariffs. We are just in business to pay off our tariff debt."
Currently, import prices are rising and small businesses are struggling. Anne Zimmerman is founder and owner of Zimmerman & Co. CPAs Inc. in Cleveland and Cincinnati, Ohio, and cochair of Small Business for America’s Future. The group’s new survey of 1,048 small business owners shows that 74% of them do not think that they will remain open in 2026.
“Congress needs to focus on policies that will actually help us,” Zimmerman says in a statement. “That means extending the Affordable Care Act tax credits so businesses and their employees aren’t hit with massive healthcare cost spikes. The Supreme Court needs to strike down these tariff policies that are crushing small businesses.”
What looks like administrative housekeeping represents the dismantling of one of the most effective tools the federal government ever created to help working people and local economies build wealth.
Buried in the government shutdown is a decision that has nothing to do with budgets and everything to do with what government is for. Amid the political theater and arguments over spending priorities, one of the first casualties appears to be the Community Development Financial Institutions Fund. The Treasury Department has eliminated the entire staff of the program that, for three decades, delivered capital to Main Street instead of Wall Street and did it profitably.
The news has barely registered. In the hierarchy of shutdown crises, a federal lending program with a bureaucratic name ranks somewhere below furloughed workers and closed monuments, well beneath the spectacle of masked agents patrolling streets and entire zones flooded by federal enforcement. A program that helped people build wealth for 30 years disappears with less attention than a single day of border theater.
This is precisely the problem. What looks like administrative housekeeping represents the dismantling of one of the most effective tools the federal government ever created to help working people and local economies build wealth.
Understanding what we have lost requires understanding what the fund actually did, which is harder than it sounds because the work was so determinedly practical. The CDFI Fund began in 1994, in that brief Clinton-era window when both parties still pretended to care about the specific geometry of American inequality, not inequality as an abstraction to be lamented or celebrated, but the actual spatial reality of capital disappearing from entire regions of the country.
The message reads clearly: Certain people, certain places, are not worth the investment, no matter how small, no matter how effective.
By the early 1990s, the mechanics of abandonment were clear. Banks had discovered they could make more money financing suburban developments and corporate mergers than lending to the people who actually lived in Flint or Pine Ridge or the Mississippi Delta. Redlining had been illegal for decades, but you didn't need explicitly racist policies when you had risk models that just happened to define entire communities as unprofitable. The result was a map of America divided into places where credit flowed freely and places where it had stopped flowing at all.
The CDFI Fund offered a simple solution: seed money for local lenders who were willing to do the work that big banks had abandoned. These were credit unions, community development banks, and loan funds that knew their borrowers personally, understood the local economy's rhythms, and had better repayment rates than many commercial lenders precisely because they were not trying to jam every applicant through the same algorithm. The fund's proposition was straightforward. If the federal government absorbed some of the early risk, the cost of building institutional capacity, the uncertainty of lending in disinvested markets, private capital would follow. And it did. For every federal dollar invested, roughly eight more came from private banks and investors. This was market making in places the market had written off.
Over 30 years, the program quietly assembled a record that should have made it politically untouchable. Affordable homes built or financed. Hundreds of thousands of small businesses and farms kept afloat or launched. Grocery stores in food deserts. Rural health clinics. Childcare centers that allowed parents to work. The fund's annual budget remained microscopic by federal standards, less than one-tenth of 1% of federal spending, a rounding error in the defense budget, less than we spend in an afternoon on interest payments on the national debt.
Two-thirds of the money went to rural and small-town America, the places we are endlessly told have been forgotten by coastal elites and federal bureaucrats. In West Virginia and Oklahoma and Mississippi, the CDFI Fund was often the only source of affordable capital for people trying to start a business or expand a farm. When the pandemic hit and the big banks utterly failed to deliver Paycheck Protection Program loans to actual small businesses, CDFIs stepped in and moved billions in relief to the people who needed it. A Republican Congress allocated more than $12 billion to the program in 2020 because the work was so obviously effective that even in a moment of total partisan fracture, both sides could see it.
The decision to eliminate the fund during a shutdown allegedly about fiscal discipline becomes genuinely difficult to parse on any rational level. A credit union helping a farmer in rural Oklahoma buy equipment qualifies as essential economic infrastructure. A small business owner in Alabama repairing a roof with an affordable loan represents exactly the kind of entrepreneurship politicians claim to champion. The fund financed the least ideological activity imaginable: commerce. Loans for tractors and storefronts and roofs. Yet treating this program as expendable serves a purpose. It transforms practical infrastructure that helps people build equity and create jobs into something that can be discarded without having to reckon with what is actually being destroyed.
What we are watching represents a category error elevated to governing philosophy. The people eliminating the CDFI Fund claim to be advancing a vision of limited government, of returning power to communities, of letting markets work without federal interference. The fund embodied that vision. It was small, disciplined, and targeted. It did not replace markets; it created the conditions for markets to function in places they had abandoned. It rewarded work and ownership and entrepreneurship, all the things conservative politicians claim to revere. It did this while leveraging massive amounts of private capital, proving that government and markets could be partners rather than adversaries. If you actually believed in the rhetoric of small but effective government, the CDFI Fund would be the model you built outward from.
If the CDFI Fund stays dead, we will have chosen a particular vision of what government is for, and it is a grim one. Government becomes landlord and cop, the entity that collects and enforces but does not build.
We are not cutting the Fund because it failed. We are cutting it because its success exposes the incoherence of what "small government" has come to mean. The government continues to expand in all the ways that involve surveillance, enforcement, and punishment. What shrinks is the part of government that lends, that invests, that takes on risk so that private actors will follow. We keep the agencies that police and audit and deport, and we eliminate the ones that help a mechanic in rural Alabama buy the shop where he works or finance a grocery store on a South Dakota reservation so families do not have to drive 40 miles for food. This represents a preference for a government that extracts over one that builds.
The people who will pay for this are the people who have been paying for decades of policy designed in their name but against their interest. The CDFI Fund served exactly the communities that elected the politicians now calling it unnecessary: working-class families in regions gutted by globalization and bank consolidation, small towns where the factory closed and nothing replaced it, Native communities where the nearest bank branch is an hour away. These are places that have been told again and again that the market will provide, that government is the problem, that they need to be self-reliant. Then when a program appears that actually helps them be self-reliant, that gives them access to the capital they need to own rather than rent, to build rather than wait, it gets swept away. The cruelty here compounds itself. The message reads clearly: Certain people, certain places, are not worth the investment, no matter how small, no matter how effective.
The damage will unfold in the way that budget cuts always do: slowly, locally, in ways that do not generate headlines. Hundreds of CDFIs have pending applications for 2025 funding. Those awards form the core of operating budgets, the money that allows these institutions to lend at all. Without them, a developer planning affordable housing will lose financing and cancel the project. An entrepreneur will give up on expanding. A family that could have afforded a home will keep renting. None of these qualify as catastrophic failures in isolation. They accumulate. They compound. They are the small subtractions that, over years, transform a place from one that still believes in its future to one that has accepted its managed decline.
When those places continue to hollow out, when the remaining jobs disappear and the young people leave and the buildings crumble, the same politicians who eliminated the tools that might have helped will return with explanations that conveniently blame everyone except themselves. It will be the fault of cultural decay or moral failure or not trying hard enough. No one will acknowledge that we made a choice to defund the institutions that helped people build, while preserving and expanding the ones that punish. This represents the con at the heart of the current discourse about government: We dismantle the programs that work, watch the predictable failures that follow, and then use those failures as evidence that government cannot work. The prophecy fulfills itself as discovery.
The CDFI Fund's elimination also clarifies something uncomfortable about how we talk about economic policy in this country. We have entire industries built around helping wealthy people and large corporations access capital: carried interest loopholes, opportunity zones, tax credits for real estate development, subsidies for industries that have not needed them in decades. We have a Federal Reserve that will move heaven and Earth to ensure that financial markets have liquidity. A program that helps working people access a fraction of that capital, that creates actual jobs and ownership in places the market has abandoned, gets deemed expendable. The asymmetry reveals who the economy is designed to serve and who it is designed to exclude.
There is a broader pathology here about what kind of government we are willing to tolerate. We accept, without much controversy, a national security apparatus that costs nearly a trillion dollars annually. We accept a carceral system that incarcerates more people than any other nation on Earth. We accept subsidies for fossil fuel companies and tax breaks for private equity firms. The idea that government might invest a few hundred million dollars to help small businesses in struggling towns access loans somehow becomes a bridge too far. The issue concerns what we are spending on. We have built a state that is very comfortable exercising power over people and very uncomfortable helping them.
If the CDFI Fund stays dead, we will have chosen a particular vision of what government is for, and it is a grim one. Government becomes landlord and cop, the entity that collects and enforces but does not build. Government gives up on the idea that policy can be a tool for shared prosperity rather than just a mechanism for distributing the gains to those already winning. This transcends left or right, progressive or conservative. We either believe that people who work for a living in places the market has forgotten deserve a chance to build something, or we have decided that some places and some people lie beyond reach and should be left to fend for themselves in an economy that has made clear they are surplus.
When the shutdown ends, and it will end, because these things always end, Congress will face a choice. It can restore the CDFI Fund quickly and with enough resources to make up for lost time, or it can let this become permanent, another small program that vanished in the chaos and never came back. The decision will reveal whether any of the rhetoric about helping working people and reviving struggling communities was ever sincere, or whether it was always just performance.
The CDFI Fund proved for 30 years that a mechanic in Alabama buying his shop and a grocery store serving a South Dakota reservation are worth a federal investment, that the work of building and lending can succeed when government chooses to be a partner rather than an overseer. Its elimination announces we have made a different choice. The real casualty of this shutdown will outlast whatever budget deal finally ends it. It will be measured in the homes not built, the businesses not started, the communities that stopped believing they were worth investing in. That loss has already begun.
If you believe the CDFI Fund should be restored, you can sign and share this petition. It will be shared with members of Congress on October 17.
In some cases, corporate groups have posed as small business owners besieged by rising crime rates.
U.S. President Donald Trump's military occupation of Washington, D.C. has been egged on for months by corporate lobbyists. In some cases, they have posed as small business owners besieged by rising crime rates.
According to a report Tuesday in The Lever:
Last February, the American Investment Council, private equity's $24 million lobbying shop, penned a letter to D.C. city leaders demanding "immediate action" to address an "alarming increase" in crime.
That letter was published as an exclusive by Axios with the headline: "Downtown D.C. Business Leaders Demand Crime Solutions."
But far from a group of beleaguered mom-and-pops, the letter's signatories "included some of the biggest trade groups on K Street," The Lever observed:
The U.S. Chamber of Commerce, which boasts its status as the largest business organization in the world; the National Retail Federation, a powerful retail alliance representing giants like Walmart and Target; and Airlines for America, which represents the major U.S. airlines, among others. These lobbying juggernauts spend tens of millions of dollars every year lobbying federal lawmakers to get their way in Washington."
It was one of many efforts by right-wing groups to agitate for a more fearsome police crackdown in the city and oppose criminal justice reforms.
On multiple occasions, business groups and police unions have helped to thwart efforts by the D.C. city council to rewrite the city's criminal code, which has not been updated in over a century, to eliminate many mandatory minimum sentences and reduce sentences for some nonviolent offenses.
The reforms were vetoed by D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser in 2023. After the veto was overridden by the city council, Democrats helped Republicans pass a law squashing the reforms, which was signed by then-President Joe Biden.
In 2024, groups like the Chamber of Commerce pushed the "Secure D.C." bill in the city council, which expanded pre-trial detention, weakened restrictions on chokeholds, and limited public access to police disciplinary records.
At the time, business groups lauded these changes as necessary to fight the post-pandemic crime spike D.C. was experiencing.
But crime rates in D.C. have fallen precipitously, to a 30-year low over the course of 2024. As a press release from the U.S. attorney's office released on January 3, 2025 stated: "homicides are down 32%; robberies are down 39%; armed carjackings are down 53%; assaults with a dangerous weapon are down 27% when compared with 2023 levels."
Nevertheless, as Trump sends federal troops into D.C., many in the corporate world are still cheering.
In a statement Monday, the D.C. Chamber of Commerce described itself as a "strong supporter" of the Home Rule Act, which Trump used to enact his federal crackdown.
The Washington Business Journal quoted multiple consultancy executives—including Yaman Coskum, who exclaimed that "It is about time somebody did something to make D.C. great again," and Kirk McLaren who said, "If local leaders won't protect residents and businesses, let's see if the federal government will step in and do what's necessary to create a safe and prosperous city."
Despite crime also being on the decline in every other city he has singled out—Los Angeles, Baltimore, Oakland, New York, and Chicago—Trump has said his deployment of federal troops "will go further."