Britain’s Defence Secretary John Healey announced this week that the government is in active negotiations with Donald Trump to prevent him from banning UK diesel exports. This is real. This is happening. A grown man in a suit is right now trying to explain to another grown man why burning fuel should be allowed to cross an ocean.
The setup is perfect. Trump has threatened to stop exports. The UK has diesel. Somewhere in Whitehall, a junior civil servant is drafting talking points about why this particular hydrocarbon deserves special exemption status, as if diesel has feelings that might be hurt by tariffs.
What exactly is the negotiating position here? The UK cannot threaten Trump with anything. It cannot sanction him. It cannot even pretend to have leverage without looking ridiculous. So instead, British officials are presumably hoping that if they use enough words like “partnership” and “special relationship,” Trump will forget he wanted to ban the thing in the first place.
The real absurdity is that this works sometimes. Not because the arguments are good. Not because Trump cares about diesel or Britain or the arcane details of fuel chemistry. But because his attention span operates on the same wavelength as a browser with forty-seven tabs open. Talk to him about something else by Tuesday and the ban might evaporate entirely.
Meanwhile, the diesel sits in tanks. Waiting. Hoping someone remembers to negotiate on its behalf.