Donald Trump has just announced a 100% tariff on foreign films. “Hollywood is dying a very fast death,” he claims, suggesting this is the result of a “concerted effort by other Nations, and, therefore, a National Security threat”. You could see it as just another round in his ongoing trade wars with the world. But this decision carries a distinctly cultural edge.

As President, Trump has long sought to control the ideological tone of American cinema. We’ve already seen this in action: DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) policies are being rolled back across industries and corporations, including Disney. Film narratives are quietly shifting to align with the prevailing winds of American politics.

Let’s be honest—businesses have never truly been ideologically progressive, despite the messaging. They follow trends, not lead them. What looks like progressiveness is often just strategic branding. Industries are reactive; they adopt what has already been culturally digested, often unconsciously.

DEI in advertising, for instance, only gained traction in the 2010s—decades after the cultural revolutions of the 1960s. Campaigns like Free the Bid, launched in 2016, pushed for diversity in advertising by advocating the hiring of women directors. In 2016, the #OscarsSoWhite campaign exposed systemic racial bias in Hollywood’s casting and awards. A year later, #MeToo forced industries to confront longstanding abuses of women. By 2020, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences introduced DEI criteria for Best Picture eligibility. Disney+ began adding trigger warnings to older films in 2019; HBO Max temporarily removed Gone with the Wind in 2020 due to its romanticized portrayal of slavery. In short, what some call “progressive propaganda” is often just a late acknowledgment of cultural shifts that began over half a century ago.

Yet younger generations—especially those born after 1980—are often derided as “snowflakes” by the powerful voices in politics, media, and industry. Ironically, these same critics were the “progressives” of the 1990s, the architects of a globalized neoliberal order that traded on ideals of freedom, justice, and diversity. Now comfortably seated in positions of power, they resent the new generation’s push to challenge the very system they built.

The “snowflake” slur accuses the young of being fragile, emotional, anxious, and overly concerned with safety and control. But if we pause for a moment, these traits seem more characteristic of the so-called strongmen running today’s governments—Trump, Orbán, Putin, Klaus—and their younger, eager acolytes like J.D. Vance in the U.S. or Filip Turek in Czechia. These men react to dissent like children guarding toys in a sandbox. Their defensiveness is not rooted in strength, but in fear.

Don’t be fooled by their political incoherence or public feuds. What unites this global cohort is not loyalty to one another, but a shared conviction that the world is collapsing—and that the younger, progressive generation is to blame. Their fear is palpable. Try questioning their knowledge or discussing values, and you’ll meet hostility, not dialogue. True confidence allows for disagreement. Fear breeds aggression, irrationality, and neurotic control.

And what about the “snowflakes’” supposed love of restrictions? Let’s talk about who’s really imposing limits. Who’s banning books? Who’s censoring school curricula? Who’s taxing foreign films to protect a declining domestic industry?

All of this makes sense on a psychological level, which unfortunately doesn’t make it easier to deal with. The generation of Rocky Balboa—the hard, self-made men—is melting under the pressure of historic change. It’s the same historical momentum that once brought them to power. But instead of responding with dignity, showing respect for their opponents or seizing the opportunity for reflection, they accuse everyone and everything else. They externalize their fear and anger. And they do exactly what they blame the youth for doing.

The real snowflakes are the protectionists—those who can’t stand that others have different visions of the future. The real snowflakes are the ones taxing the world to protect their sandcastles, which are crumbling under the weight of time. Whether or not they admire Donald Trump, when they argue that their generation was tougher and freer, what they really long for is to “make the world great again.” But their greatness is rooted in a past that no longer exists.

You don’t win the history by locking all your enemies in Alcatraz.