By Monsi A. Serrano
The United States was once the undisputed dream destination for global travelers. Today, it is losing tourists for a simple reason: it has lost its welcome.
Much of this shift traces back to President Donald J. Trump, whose leadership style — marked by hostility, paranoia, and strongman theatrics — has steadily alienated the very world America once attracted. Under his watch, travelers are no longer courted; they are scrutinized, discouraged, and often humiliated.
In 2025, foreign arrivals to the U.S. dropped sharply. Land travel from Canada fell by more than 30 percent, while air arrivals continued to slide. This is not a seasonal lull or a post-pandemic correction. It is reputation risk in real time — self-inflicted and politically driven.
Tourism is not a vanity industry. It is a serious economic pillar, contributing billions to GDP, sustaining jobs, and projecting soft power. You do not need to be an economist to understand what happens when a country signals suspicion instead of hospitality.
By contrast, nations that treat visitors as guests rather than walking ATM machines benefit from something no ad campaign can buy: word of mouth. Social media fills with images, stories, and recommendations. Trust travels faster than policy memos.
Trump, however, appears indifferent to tourism’s value. His rhetoric consistently frames foreigners as threats rather than contributors. The result: tighter border scrutiny, punitive visa fees, and widely publicized cases of travelers being delayed, interrogated, or denied entry. Even legitimate visitors now approach U.S. borders with anxiety.
His combative posture toward allies, trade wars disguised as patriotism, and public belittling of partner nations send a clear message: Visitors are no longer welcome; they are liabilities.
The fallout does not stop with foreign tourists. Ordinary Americans increasingly absorb the backlash of Trump’s foreign policy choices. Abroad, U.S. citizens report subtle — and sometimes open — resentment, blamed not for who they are, but for what their government represents.
Immigration crackdowns, diplomatic bullying, and institutional contempt have reshaped the American passport’s meaning. Once a symbol of openness and curiosity, it now comes with caveats. Tourism and security analysts note that this erosion of goodwill feeds directly into travel decisions: If Americans themselves face discomfort abroad, why would foreigners feel welcome in the U.S.?
Greenland, Denmark, and the cost of diplomatic absurdity
Few episodes captured this decline more vividly than Trump’s fixation on acquiring Greenland, an autonomous territory of the Kingdom of Denmark. By publicly floating the idea as if it were a real-estate deal, Trump drew swift rebukes from Danish and Greenlandic leaders, who reminded the world that sovereign territories are not commodities.
What sounded like spectacle carried real consequences. Diplomatic assessments show the episode strained relations with Denmark and unsettled Nordic partners, reinforcing perceptions of an America willing to antagonize allies for ego and headlines. Tourists, like investors, pay attention when leadership turns erratic.
Europe: What the U.S. can’t replicate
Against this backdrop, Europe’s appeal becomes inevitable. Beyond friendliness and scenery, Europe offers something the U.S. cannot replicate: layered diversity.
In one journey, travelers can explore Poland’s restored old towns, absorb the quiet elegance of Prague and Vienna, marvel at Switzerland’s alpine majesty, experience Germany’s blend of history and efficiency, or savor Belgium’s medieval squares and world-class cuisine. A short train ride later, they are cycling Dutch canals, immersed in French art and gastronomy, or standing inside Italy’s living museums, where history, fashion, food, and daily life coexist effortlessly.
Borders dissolve in hours, yet languages, traditions, architecture, and flavors change dramatically. Europe does not sell a single narrative. It offers many, each grounded in centuries of culture and proudly preserved identity.
Canada’s quiet windfall
As U.S. tourism campaigns stumble, Canada continues to offer what money can’t manufacture: authentic places, living culture, and seasons genuinely worth traveling for.
As inevitable, America’s self-inflicted tourism wounds benefit Canada. Beyond Niagara Falls, it offers Quebec’s old-world charm, Nova Scotia’s coastal calm, Prince Edward Island’s pastoral beauty, Whistler’s alpine adventures, and Banff’s breathtaking wilderness.
More importantly, Canada now delivers much of what the U.S. once promised, and without the hostility, suspicion, or political chaos.
Soft power on life support
For decades, America’s greatest export was goodwill. Under Trump, that soft power has withered. Tourism, where diplomacy, culture, and economics intersect, is among the first casualties.
This decline is not accidental. It is the direct result of leadership that mistakes intimidation for strength and isolation for sovereignty.
Trump as Duterte 2.0 and Venezuela as the warning label
Trump increasingly resembles a Duterte-style strongman: impulsive, institutionally dismissive, and driven more by ego than statesmanship. History shows where this path leads.
Venezuela is the clearest cautionary tale. Once among Latin America’s wealthiest nations, it slid into isolation, economic collapse, and mass emigration after strongman rule hollowed out institutions and alienated global partners. Tourism vanished. Investors fled. The country became a warning rather than a destination.
The United States is not Venezuela — yet. But the pattern is familiar: Attack institutions, antagonize allies, personalize power, and dismiss accountability. Tourism, being sentiment-driven, is always among the first industries to flee when a country’s moral compass spins out of control.
Why I’m done with the U.S. and why many others are too
After watching Trump turn the United States into a visa obstacle course, antagonize allies, and govern like a strongman rather than a statesman, I chose not to renew my U.S. visa. No plans. No regrets.
If a country treats visitors like suspects and allies like enemies, why spend hard-earned money there?
The world offers better options. Canada welcomes with warmth and ease. Europe opens its arms with depth, diversity, and genuine hospitality.
Trump’s undoing of America’s goodwill has given travelers clarity: endure bureaucracy, suspicion, and bad headlines—or choose destinations that still value you as a guest.
I know which stamp I’m putting in my passport. How about you?