Illustration by Joe Rocco
This article appears in The American Prospect magazine’s February 2022 special issue, “How We Broke the Supply Chain.” Subscribe here.
It was four o’clock and nearly dark out. Andy was still at socially distanced soccer practice. The toys huddled around the Little Tikes AM/FM radio, listening attentively. Woody was worried.
“Dozens of tankers have been idling for weeks, with little sign that cargo will be unloaded,” said the news lady. “Many are full of toys from China, where 85 percent of American-bought toys are made.”
“Andy’s never getting his Transforming Batman Bat-Tech Batbot!” cried Woody, smacking the radio’s OFF button. “It’s been over a month since Christmas! He’s going to be devastated.”
“What were they saying about toys being made in China?” asked Rex, twiddling his T-rex hands nervously. “I was not made in China, wherever that is. I was made in Santa’s workshop.”
“You were made in China. We were all made in China,” said Buzz. The playroom gasped. Rex fainted, collapsing onto a barrel of monkeys.
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“Guys, that is not the point,” said Woody, waving his twiggy arms wildly. “Thousands of kids are without their toys because of the broken supply chain!”
“The what?” asked Mr. Potato Head.
“The broken supply chain! The backup in international shipping that’s exposed weaknesses in the global economy’s production model, not to mention the maritime laws that govern it!”
The toys looked down at the floor nervously.
Woody lunged at Mr. Potato Head, holding his hands. “There could be Mr. and Mrs. Potato Heads sitting in those tankers!”
“Eh, let ’em rot,” Mr. Potato Head replied. “They’re just Potato Heads now. These Gen Z spuds and their gender fluidity. They’ve stripped me of my title!”
“Well I like the change,” said Mrs. Potato Head, shaking a finger at her husband. “We of all toys should know it doesn’t matter what parts you came with, it’s how you identify with them. Gender is a construct.”
Rex stood up and shook a couple of plastic monkeys off his tail. “Do you think that maybe Santa’s workshop partners with China, since the elves can’t handle all the workload?”
Woody jumped up onto the windowsill. “Enough! There’s no time. We’ve got to unstick the supply chain!”
“How do you suppose we do that?” asked Slink.
Woody grabbed the Etch A Sketch and started drawing furiously. “Simple. All we have to do is reboot America’s manufacturing base, rewrite international trade laws establishing fair labor practices, end just-in-time logistics to add reserve capacity, and break up the consolidated ocean shipping cartel!”
The playroom again fell awkwardly silent.
“There is another way,” Buzz said darkly. “We can go to war with China.”
The plastic G-men jumped to their feet, tottering in joy. “Wooee boys!” the Sergeant hollered. “This is what we’ve been training for!”
“Oh get a grip, Buzz,” said Woody. “We’re not going to go to war with China. What would Disney think? China has the biggest movie market in the world!”
“And who is Disney?” asked Rex.
“Our real creator,” said Mr. Potato Head.
“That’s it, Woody!” cried Buzz. “That’s a great idea. We have to go to war with the enablers: Disney. Who outsources all their toy-making abroad?”
“Santa!” cried Rex.
“No, Disney. Who drives down workers’ wages lower and lower, all while Marvel films get longer and longer?” asked Buzz.
“Disney!” cried Mr. Potato Head. “I had to pee three times during Spider-Man!”
Buzz paced behind the piggy bank: “Who keeps us working on sequel after sequel, but have you seen any more coins in your bank, Hamm?”
“No, Sir,” said Hamm. “Disney.”
Woody shook his head. “So what, you want us to go on strike?”
Buzz narrowed his eyes. “Yes, a strike. A drone strike. Disneyland.”
The playroom cheered. Woody sighed and pulled his hat over his head.
Buzz opened his wings. “Let’s Go Brandon!”
