President Donald Trump’s second term has brought a fresh wave of aggressive trade policies, and aluminium is once again in the crosshairs. The recent hike in tariffs on Canadian aluminium—from 25% to a staggering 50%—has sent shockwaves through the industry. Officially, the move is positioned as a way to protect domestic production, but its impact extends far beyond U.S. borders. Will this strategy truly make America’s aluminium sector stronger, or will it backfire, disrupting industries that depend on aluminium and triggering economic consequences we have yet to fully understand?

For decades, the U.S. has been dependent on aluminium imports. Domestic production sits at roughly 900,000 metric tons annually—far below what’s needed. Canada has been the primary supplier, delivering over 3.2 million metric tons per year. With tariffs now at 50%, U.S. manufacturers reliant on aluminium are staring at a sharp increase in costs. Industries like automotive, aerospace and packaging, which use aluminium extensively, will have to absorb these costs somehow, likely passing them down to consumers. Meanwhile, domestic aluminium producers such as Alcoa and Century ALuminium may enjoy a short-term boost. But is this truly sustainable? Supply shortages could emerge, production costs may skyrocket, and U.S. trading partners—especially Canada—are already considering countermeasures. If the trade war escalates, other sectors like agriculture and technology could also feel the heat.

The global aluminium market is anything but simple. China dominates production, accounting for over half the world’s supply, while India, Russia and Canada play key roles in international trade. The U.S. remains a major consumer but has limited refining capacity. Tariffs might be an attempt to reinvigorate American aluminium production, but they don’t solve the fundamental issues of energy costs, environmental regulations and the time-intensive nature of scaling up operations. If Canadian supply dwindles, U.S. manufacturers might turn to alternative sources such as the Middle East or Australia—but shifting supply chains is easier said than done.

Faced with rising costs, many manufacturers may look for ways to adapt. Some might explore reducing aluminium usage, substituting alternative materials or doubling down on recycling technologies. The aluminium recycling sector, often underappreciated, has long been a beacon of sustainability, requiring just 5% of the energy needed for primary production. However, if tariffs unintentionally disrupt primary aluminium imports, recycled aluminium could become more expensive due to soaring demand, upending the delicate balance of an industry that has historically relied on cost efficiency.

What happens next? The future of the aluminium market under this tariff-heavy regime could play out in a few different ways. If the high tariffs remain in place, U.S. primary aluminium production might expand, but not without its own hurdles—cost, infrastructure and environmental considerations being chief among them. Alternatively, manufacturers may be forced to look beyond Canada, forging new supply agreements with countries unaffected by the tariffs. The worst-case scenario? A full-blown trade dispute, with Canada and other allies responding with their own tariffs, causing economic instability, rising prices and uncertainty across industries.

Another possibility is that mounting political and economic pressure forces the administration to reconsider. If inflation spikes or key industries start to suffer, Trump’s team may look for a way to ease the restrictions without appearing to retreat. Trade negotiations could lead to a compromise, adjusting tariffs in a way that reduces some of the damage while maintaining the rhetoric of protecting American industry.

But what if the U.S. turns to Russia instead?

Russia is one of the world’s largest aluminium producers, with Rusal playing a key role in the global market. If Trump were to establish a trade agreement that favours Russian aluminium imports, the industry would face an entirely new shift in supply dynamics. Politically, such a move would be controversial, given ongoing geopolitical tensions and sanctions related to Russia’s policies. However, economically, it could provide the U.S. with a much-needed alternative to Canadian aluminium at competitive prices.

If Russian aluminium entered the U.S. market under more favourable trade conditions, it could bring short-term relief to manufacturers grappling with rising material costs. Automotive companies, aerospace firms and beverage can producers would have access to cheaper aluminium, which could stabilise prices and prevent inflationary pressure on consumer goods. However, this would come at a geopolitical cost, potentially straining relations with allies in Europe who have imposed strict sanctions on Russian commodities. The European Union could retaliate by tightening restrictions on U.S. exports, creating further trade complications.

On the flip side, partnering with Russia could mean greater dependency on a single supplier, a risk that history has shown can be costly. A sudden policy change, further sanctions or political instability in Russia could disrupt the supply chain overnight, leaving the U.S. exposed to aluminium shortages without a backup plan. It would also send mixed signals regarding America’s stance on international trade alliances, as a deal with Russia would likely be viewed as undermining NATO efforts to isolate Russian economic influence.

So, does this possibility outweigh the risks? If Trump decides to prioritise economic pragmatism over political alignments, a Russian aluminium deal is not entirely out of the question. However, the long-term consequences—both economically and diplomatically—would need to be carefully weighed. As history has shown, trade policies often come with unintended consequences and in a globalised aluminium market, every move is interconnected. Over the coming months, we will see whether these aggressive trade measures fulfil their promise—or if they simply set off a new wave of economic turbulence, this time with Russia as an unexpected player in the equation.