By Qamar Bashir
America was once the undisputed school of the world in science, technology, and engineering, a nation where others came to learn and then carried its lessons home. From the mid-20th century until the late Cold War, American factories, laboratories, and shipyards symbolized the pinnacle of industrial might. In 1950, the United States accounted for nearly 40 percent of global manufacturing output, its shipyards produced vessels at an unmatched pace, and its computing and aerospace industries led the world into the space age. Yet in a recent post, President Donald Trump admitted what few American leaders have been willing to say aloud: that the United States has fallen behind in industries it once dominated, and that it must now invite foreign countries not only to invest but to send their experts to train Americans in high-tech manufacturing.
Trump’s statement may have seemed surprising, but it reflected a deeper reality. He specifically referred to sectors such as semiconductors, computers, electronics, shipbuilding, and trains—industries that define modern power but where America no longer holds supremacy. The paradox is stark. In the 1940s, America built a ship a day; by 2023, it could barely complete a dozen large ships in a year. In the 1960s, Silicon Valley became the cradle of semiconductors, yet today the most advanced microchips are made in Taiwan and South Korea. Japan’s Shinkansen network moves millions at speeds America has never matched, while Germany and France supply high-speed rail across the globe. America, which once exported both products and expertise, now finds itself dependent on the very countries it once trained.
The reasons for this decline lie in decades of complacency. Armed with the privilege of the dollar as the world’s reserve currency, the United States could afford to consume more than it produced. It imported minerals, electronics, and machinery without sustaining its own industrial ecosystem. Other countries, more disciplined and forward-looking, used American know-how to build their own infrastructure and research systems. They learned from U.S. universities, hired American engineers, and then invested massively at home. Over time, they not only caught up but overtook the United States, becoming global leaders in industries that once defined American greatness.
Trump’s invitation, therefore, is both an admission of weakness and a recognition of necessity. He knows that foreign investment alone is not enough; factories and plants can be built with money, but skills cannot. To rebuild lost capacity, America needs foreign trainers who can transfer knowledge and expertise to American workers. This is why he implicitly points to Taiwan, home of TSMC, the world’s unrivaled semiconductor giant; to South Korea, where Samsung and SK Hynix dominate chips and Hyundai and Samsung Heavy Industries lead global shipbuilding; to Japan, still synonymous with bullet trains, advanced electronics, and industrial precision; to Germany, Europe’s powerhouse in machinery and engineering; and to France, where Alstom continues to pioneer high-speed rail. Switzerland’s ABB represents another pillar of excellence in precision engineering.
There is also China, the unspoken giant in Trump’s message. Today, China builds nearly half of the world’s ships, produces the bulk of rare earth minerals, and fields CRRC, the largest train manufacturer on earth. It is making rapid gains in semiconductors, despite American sanctions. Yet Trump could not openly ask China to train American workers without signaling humiliating dependence on a rival. His omission was deliberate, but the shadow of China looms large in the industries he listed.
The contrast between America’s past and present could not be sharper. In 1945, U.S. factories produced 96,000 airplanes, 57,000 ships, and millions of vehicles, an industrial surge that not only won the war but cemented American global dominance. By the 1980s, however, Japan had become the world’s largest shipbuilder, South Korea soon overtook it, and today China controls nearly 45 percent of global shipbuilding output, while the United States accounts for less than one percent. In semiconductors, America once produced over 35 percent of global supply in 1990; today, its share has shrunk to around 12 percent, with the cutting edge concentrated in East Asia. In high-speed rail, America has none, while China has built over 26,000 miles of bullet train tracks in just 15 years. These numbers tell the story more starkly than words. America’s industrial supremacy has been hollowed out, leaving behind a shell of what it once was.
Trump’s realization, while late, is significant. By calling on foreign trainers, he acknowledges that rebuilding industrial power requires more than tariffs or subsidies; it requires knowledge transfer. Yet even this approach is incomplete. America cannot rely forever on outsiders to teach what it once knew. Without rebuilding its research base, restoring university funding, and encouraging innovation, the country risks temporary fixes without long-term solutions. Trump’s policies, particularly his tightening of green cards and student visas, contradict his new appeal. America has historically thrived by welcoming foreign talent, with nearly half of Silicon Valley startups founded by immigrants. Restricting these flows undermines the very revival he envisions.
For a genuine renaissance, the United States must rebuild an entire ecosystem of innovation. That means investing heavily in research and development, raising public and private R&D spending back toward the 3–4 percent of GDP levels that once fueled its leadership. It means reforming education to emphasize science, technology, engineering, and mathematics from the earliest levels, while also revitalizing trade schools and vocational programs. It requires partnerships between universities, industries, and government to create hubs where innovation is tied directly to production. And it demands immigration policies that attract, not repel, the brightest minds from across the globe. Without this, inviting foreign trainers will only delay the inevitable decline.
There are lessons here not just for the United States but for the developing world as well. Nations in South Asia, the Middle East, and Latin America, including Pakistan, must recognize that industrial and educational neglect leads to dependency and decline. Trump’s words, though spoken for America, apply universally: without a strong base in research, training, and industry, no nation can secure its independence or its future. For Pakistan, the warning is urgent. It must align its education system with critical industries like electronics, semiconductors, rail technology, and advanced machinery if it hopes to avoid perpetual reliance on others.
In the end, Trump’s message is both sobering and revealing. America, once the global teacher, now seeks to become the student again. The post was not simply a call for investment but an acknowledgment that the world has changed, that others now hold the expertise once uniquely American. Whether this realization sparks a genuine revival remains uncertain. But one truth is clear: without rebuilding its foundations in research, education, and industry, the United States will remain dependent on those who once depended on it. The story has come full circle, and whether America can reclaim its role at the top of the global industrial order will depend not just on foreign trainers but on its own will to reform, rebuild, and innovate.
About Writer: Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)
Former Press Minister, Embassy of Pakistan to France
Former Press Attache to Malaysia
Former MD, SRBC | Macomb, Michigan, USA
