Let’s quit the polite applause and call this spectacle what it is: Japan’s shameless handshake with the U.S. in aviation tariffs isn’t a breakthrough—it’s a surrender masquerading as strategy.

When Prime Minister Kishida steps onto the world stage declaring “cooperation” in the aviation sector (“日米関税交渉、航空機分野で協力”), he isn’t negotiating from strength. He’s caving in to a superpower eager to keep its industrial claws sunken deep, while pretending Tokyo gets a seat at the table.

What’s really soaring here? The myth of equal partnership. The U.S. shuffles the deck; Japan nods, smiles, and prays industry doesn’t notice the ace up Washington’s sleeve. Every time Japan "cooperates" in the name of progress, it trades autonomy for an illusion of mutual benefit. Boeing and Lockheed grin while Japanese manufacturers shrink to subcontractors.

Wake up. Tariff talks in high-tech sectors aren’t just about numbers on a chart—they’re about who builds the future, who controls the engine room. Does anyone believe this dance of ‘cooperation’ won’t leave Japan shackled as America’s junior engineer, forever selling off its most precious technical secrets for temporary praise?

No, slashing tariffs doesn’t foster innovation; it accelerates dependency. This isn’t globalization—it’s strategic disarmament in silk gloves. How long before Japan’s most brilliant engineers become disposable labor on a global assembly line? How many times will we sell the dream of national industry for a congratulatory phone call from Washington?

And you—yes, you nodding along in comfort—when will you admit this so-called alliance erodes sovereignty, dignity, and the very notion that Japan can chart its own path in the skies? Global order isn’t built on consent; it’s forged in backrooms and sold to you as ‘cooperation.’

Don’t dare call this progress. It’s capitulation, plain and simple. If you don’t feel a chill as your country’s future is bartered away one tariff at a time, you’re being sedated by the soothing language of diplomatic theater. This is not partnership—it’s polite subjugation. The blood price? Autonomy lost, ambition stunted, the next generation of Japanese aviation grounded before it ever leaves the runway.

Look up. The sky isn’t for sale. Or is that, too, just an American export now?