The damage is done. Despite U.S. President Joe Biden‘s efforts to restore America’s image as a pillar and protector of the rules-based order, doubts about U.S. credibility and commitment persist.

And though his predecessor, Donald Trump, deserves considerable blame for the blemishes on this country’s international image, the fault is not his alone. Structural factors as well as Biden’s own policies have contributed to this situation. Worse, no single U.S. president or administration can fix it.

While Trump is typically seen as the instigator of this slide, in truth, questions about U.S. commitment and resolve predate his administration. In Japan, for example, Democrats have long been viewed as less committed to the bilateral alliance. The strength wielded by labor unions within the party prompted a fear that domestic economic concerns would prevail over security questions.

Republican President George W. Bush’s determination to act against enemies also strengthened the view that the U.S. commitment to international law and rules was not as strong as its leadership had professed. His unilateralism was for many the culmination of the unipolar moment — and ironically marked the beginning of its end.

To be sure, doubts about U.S. resolve were to be expected as the gap between its material capabilities and national strength and those of potential adversaries narrowed. Not only its leverage, but its international influence diminished as other countries assumed greater roles in the international economy. Ironically, the bedrock belief that a rising tide would lift all boats proved correct — even though that success would undercut the United States’ position in the world. Greater wealth strengthened the economies and military capabilities of potential adversaries, raising the cost of action to Washington.

The structural concerns were exacerbated by policies and domestic politics that also eroded the normative framework that provided a pillar of U.S. status and standing. Trump’s so-called America First mentality, his disdain for alliances and multilateralism, disregard for international law and his transactional approach to relationships rendered U.S. commitments tenuous.

While Trump’s foreign policy was uniquely his own, he nevertheless exposed and rejuvenated a long-dormant strain of thinking that survived his administration. As one Japanese diplomat lamented shortly after Biden was inaugurated as president, “Trump may be gone but Trumpism will live on.”

That pessimism has been validated as the Republican Party embraced the Trump line and moved toward positions that, in the most optimistic reading, challenge U.S. foreign policy orthodoxy and, in the darkest light, reject it outright and replace it with isolationism. In every discussion of a U.S. alliance — any U.S. alliance — allies worry about Washington’s readiness to honor Article 5 treaty commitments and the continued presence of U.S. military assets in the region.

While Democrats are now viewed as defenders of the U.S. national security system, a position once held by the GOP, they are as suspect as Republicans when it comes to defending the international economic order. Barack Obama is pilloried for failing to push for ratification of the Trans-Pacific Partnership while he was still in office. Trump’s opposition to that deal and any other he didn’t negotiate was clear, but Biden’s failure to promote the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership, or the CPTPP (the successor to the TPP), is equally frustrating to regional governments.

Worse, the decision to take market access off the table in all international economic talks is deemed confirmation of U.S. retrenchment and renunciation of its historic position as a leader of economic openness. Washington’s refusal to work to reform the World Trade Organization is a third nail in that coffin.

Defenders of the Biden administration argue that its ability to pursue and promote traditional foreign policy — support for alliances, multilateralism and economic liberalism — is undercut by divisions in U.S. domestic politics. That may be true — although skepticism about the utility of economic openness can be found in the White House; “a foreign policy for the middle class” at its core challenges that principle — but it is also confirmation of the problem.

U.S. allies and partners intensely study America’s domestic politics and they recognize that the loss of the domestic consensus regarding those pillars of traditional U.S. policy undercuts Washington’s ability to support or maintain them. They watch Congress flail as it tries to pass a budget or keep the government open. They bemoan the posturing and spectacle that have overtaken serious legislating.

They remember that even as the U.S. and world economy were melting down in 2008, Congress proved unable to act in the first instance to stop the conflagration. They worry that support for Ukraine, NATO and Europe may rest on the outcome of the November ballot.

U.S. allies and partners — as well as adversaries — are acutely aware of the paralysis that now consumes Congress. They acknowledge that Washington can still respond to crises, but they know that reaction times have slowed in an era in which every second counts.

They also know that divisions run so deep that bedrock assumptions about U.S. society have been undermined. Allies and partners were shaken by the violence of Jan. 6, 2021. The scenes that day were a striking contrast not only to the country they knew but repudiated its essence.

The refusal to peacefully transfer power, the continuing failure of senior politicians to acknowledge the legitimacy of the election results and their readiness to challenge the outcome of the forthcoming ballot are indelible marks on perceptions of the United States. Its commitment to democracy itself is now in question and no promises or policies can fix that.

Since credibility concerns can’t be removed, they must be managed. That means accepting that doubt and reassurance are facts of life and, alert to that basic truth, U.S. administrations cannot act in ways that reinforce them. That means, most elementally, that there cannot be obvious gaps in U.S. strategy and capabilities. Promising a bold policy yet failing to commit the resources to realize it — whatever the reason — will guarantee yet more skepticism and generate more headwinds. Washington no longer enjoys “the benefit of the doubt.”

If the U.S. is not capable of doing “big stuff" like CPTPP, then it must pay even more attention to details that can paper over the cracks. That requires constant and repetitive statements of commitment: There is no “one and done”; there must be follow-up. Most simply, the United States cannot claim to support international and regional institutions and order and then not show up when those groups meet.

Critically important is establishing a new style of interaction that empowers allies and partners — acknowledging the structural change — without simultaneously feeding doubts about disengagement. Washington is often reluctant to cede leadership in cooperative initiatives, and when it does, it often appears to be distancing itself from those commitments. Stepping back must not mean stepping away.

Future U.S. administrations can do this. They will have to. The damage has been done.

Brad Glosserman is deputy director of and visiting professor at the Center for Rule-Making Strategies at Tama University as well as senior adviser (nonresident) at Pacific Forum. His latest book, with Gilbert Rozman, "Japan's Rise as a Regional and Global Power, 2013-2023: A Momentous Decade," was released this summer by Routledge.