There are two theories doing the rounds about Donald Trump’s latest foray into economic chaos.

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One is that it’s all part of the plan: a calculated campaign to reset the terms of global trade. Some genuinely believe the United States gets a raw deal – that for too long, it has borne the brunt of lopsided trade arrangements and supply chain dependencies that favour other nations. From this perspective, a bit of pain now could lead to a better balance later. Tough talk, economic brinkmanship, and deliberate unpredictability, they argue, are just the tools needed to force a global realignment.

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The other is that it’s madness – the unfiltered instinct of a man who sees trade as a zero-sum game, economics as theatre, and policy as a tool for attention, vengeance, or both.

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Whichever version you subscribe to, one thing’s for certain: something shady is happening in the space between the speeches and the market swings.

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The last week has been a case study in economic whiplash. First, Trump announced sweeping new tariffs on more than 60 countries. The stock market plunged. Billions were wiped off 401(k)s, pension funds, and college savings plans. Then, as the chaos spread and the White House insisted it wouldn’t budge, Trump abruptly reversed course – announcing a 90-day pause for all but China. The markets bounced back with a historic rally.

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For many, the damage was already done. A terrifying week wiped years of savings off the board. Not everyone had sold, and certainly not everyone had spare cash to “buy the dip” – especially not those still shell-shocked by what they’d just lost.

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But some people did buy the dip. And they made a killing.

Online footage soon emerged showing Trump in the Oval Office, jovially recounting the fortunes made by those around him.

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“This is Charles Schwab – it’s not just a company, it’s actually an individual,” he says, pointing to someone off camera. “He made 2.5 billion today. And he made [gestures again] 900 million. That’s not bad.”

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It’s rare to hear the punchline to a rigged system delivered by the man who wrote the script.

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And while market bulls rushed to frame the rebound as a show of Trump’s policy flexibility, others noticed something else: an unusually timed surge in stock option trading, just minutes before the tariff pause was announced.

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Specifically, there was a dramatic spike in call option volume – particularly on Nasdaq-linked contracts like QQQ (an ETF that tracks the tech-heavy Nasdaq 100). One such contract, the QQQ 406 call option expiring 17 April, saw a sudden flood of activity just before the announcement went public.

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Call options are financial instruments that give an investor the right (but not the obligation) to buy a stock at a set price before a certain date. Traders buy them when they believe a stock – or in this case, an index – is about to go up. They’re relatively cheap to buy but can deliver massive profits if timed correctly.

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And that’s exactly what happened.

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Within an hour of the announcement, some of these contracts skyrocketed in value – in one case, SPY 509 calls (tied to the S&P 500) jumped over 2,100%. Whoever placed those bets did so at precisely the right moment – too precise, some would say.

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Someone, somewhere, clearly bet the house on Trump reversing course – and they timed it perfectly.

That’s led to a chorus of criticism, most notably from U.S. Congressman Steven Horsford, who exploded during a House committee hearing with Trump’s trade representative. As the news of the pause broke mid-session, Horsford gave voice to what millions were thinking.

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“There was no strategy, there was no plan,” he said. “The president chose to take actions he didn’t have the authority to take. He’s put our economy in disarray and near collapse. People’s retirement, people’s 529 accounts went down because of this administration. This is amateur hour!”

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He didn’t stop there.

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“WTF? Who’s in charge? Because it sure doesn’t look like the trade representative who just got the rug pulled from under you.”

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And the line that landed hardest of all:

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“Who is benefitting? What billionaire just got richer?”

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The line resonated – not just because it felt true, but because it pointed to a pattern that’s becoming increasingly normalised in the U.S.: the blending of power, markets, and personal enrichment.

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We’ve now reached the point where Trump’s own brand sells “Trump Coins” and even a Melania Coin – actual minted collectibles marketed directly to donors and fans. They’re sold through a PAC, but what’s most remarkable is how casually open they are about the transactional nature of it all. It’s the most blatant attempt to funnel political enthusiasm into hard currency that we’ve ever seen. In less absurd times, it would be an international scandal. Today, it barely registers.

And that’s just one side of the coin – quite literally. Because while some are buying these tokens out of misguided loyalty or to feel part of a movement, others likely do so with more strategic intentions. Crooked businessmen, opportunists, and – given some of Trump’s recent policy decisions both at home and abroad – one would imagine a fair few foreign actors too.

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And to be fair, this isn’t solely a Trump phenomenon. Insider trading among U.S. lawmakers has become so widespread, there are entire online trackers dedicated to following what they buy and sell. Nancy Pelosi is perhaps the most notorious name associated with the trend – her trades so frequent and well-timed that they’ve become memes and models for retail investors. But as always, Trump does it louder, bigger, dumber – and somehow more brazen than anyone thought possible.

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The rhetoric may be American, but the implications are global. If the world’s largest economy is now a reality TV show with the markets as its prize pool, then we’re all unwilling contestants. And from a European perspective, the lesson is increasingly hard to ignore: this is not a reliable partner.

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Europe may have weathered the week better than most, spared the full force of Trump’s economic fireworks. But that is no reason to grow complacent. Our markets are tied to theirs. Our supply chains run through theirs. And if American policy can be turned off and on like a tap – or worse, like a slot machine – then it’s time to rethink our dependence.

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Because even if there are some perks to the relationship, nobody wants to be in a toxic one. Not in life. Not in trade. And certainly not with someone who thinks the destruction of your pension fund is a punchline.