These Cars Could Vanish If Tariffs Hit Again
Could a trade war kill off America’s muscle cars? Or at least, the ones built just a few inches north or south of the border?
In the increasingly bizarre chess match of international tariffs, the automotive industry is again caught in the crossfire. President Donald Trump has hinted at reinstating steep tariffs on imported vehicles and parts in 90 days—and that move, if implemented, could send shockwaves through Detroit and beyond.
The problem? Some of America’s most “American” vehicles aren’t actually built in America.
Let’s start with a shocker.
Isn’t the Dodge Charger Daytona EV American?
Not exactly. The Charger Daytona—the bold new EV that Dodge swears is the spiritual successor to the Hellcat—isn’t being born in Michigan. It’s being built in Windsor, Ontario. Canada. That’s right. The muscle car of the electric future might be taxed like a foreign luxury sedan, which, in practical terms, means American buyers could end up paying Porsche prices for a Dodge.
How bad could it get?
Try $75,000 for a base model. And the high-performance Scat Pack version? That could swell to nearly $94,000—more than the final, fire-breathing V8-powered Charger Hellcat ever cost. This is no longer speed for the masses; it’s speed for the mildly wealthy.
And that price jump isn’t just a sticker shock. It’s a cultural crisis.
Muscle cars have always thrived on democratic horsepower—raw speed without the Range Rover badge. If tariffs return, they could sabotage what the Charger Daytona EV stands for: American muscle, electrified for everyone.
But isn’t it just one car?
If only. The Ford Bronco Sport? Made in Mexico. GMC Sierra? Also built south of the border. The Mustang GTD—Ford’s glorious, track-focused answer to German sports cars—is assembled in Canada. In all, dozens of models are suddenly at risk of being priced out of the market, not because buyers don’t want them, but because a 25% tariff would make them financially irrational.
Why not just build them in the U.S.?
Easier said than done. Automakers like Stellantis (which owns Dodge, Jeep, Ram, and more) do have U.S. factories, but reshuffling supply chains isn’t like rearranging IKEA furniture. It would take billions of dollars, years of lead time, and untold headaches to retool operations and avoid tariff exposure. And frankly, they might just decide it’s not worth it.
So, what makes the Daytona EV so special?
It’s fast—really fast. 670 horsepower. 0–60 in 3.3 seconds. And it has a 600-watt synthetic exhaust system that growls like a T-Rex with Bluetooth. Yes, it’s fake sound. But somehow, it works. More importantly, this EV has a rare trait in the electric world: honesty.
During my drive, for every mile I traveled, the range dropped by exactly one mile. No EV range anxiety, no inflated estimates, no fine print. Just raw accuracy.
It’s the first time I’ve driven an electric car that behaves like an internal combustion vehicle—predictable, tactile, and surprisingly emotional.
But will people pay that much for a Dodge?
That’s the multi-billion-dollar question. Dodge fans don’t just want speed—they want value. The brand’s entire identity is built on affordable horsepower. At nearly $100K, the Charger Daytona loses that magic.
Even worse, if this EV flops, it could send the wrong message to other automakers: muscle cars don’t sell, EVs are a gamble, and maybe we should all just build another crossover. Yawn.
Is this just political theatre, or should we worry?
The threat is very real. Tariffs are like bad sequels—just when you think they’re over, they come back with worse dialogue and higher costs. And if they do return, automakers will face a harsh choice: absorb the cost, raise prices, or cancel the models altogether.
The Charger Daytona EV isn’t just a car. It’s a litmus test. Can American automakers make electric vehicles exciting, accessible, and profitable? Or will protectionist policies price innovation out of reach?
Final thoughts?
Some say the Charger Daytona EV is sacrilege—a muscle car without muscle. I disagree. It’s one of the best EVs I’ve ever driven. A genuine thrill ride, with the soul of Detroit and the specs of Silicon Valley.
But it’s hanging by a thread. If tariffs return, this car—along with others like it—could vanish before it even hits showroom floors.
And that would be a loss not just for Dodge fans, but for anyone who believes driving should still be fun.
