A madman is someone who draws correct conclusions
from false premises.
John LOCKE

In the years spent at Diplo I have indulged my taste for contrariness. I have been called “Resident Contrarian” – part in jest, part in frustration, and sometimes in anger. Surviving as a contrarian is far from easy – for one easily oversteps the bounds of forbearance. One must have a point, and it better be relevant and important, or saturation will ensue. And even then (I’d say – particularly then) the bearer of contrary tidings is rarely forgiven: recognition is a coin that seldom passes through the hands of a contrarian – as Cassandra’s myth reminds us. Then there is the issue of style: when mixed with sepulchral hectoring, or power-grabbing, it quickly becomes tiresome. A contrarian must be perceived neither as intellectual or political challenge or he will be swiftly suppressed. This is why in the past contrarians were jesters, whose role was viewed as both essential and marginal.

But has contrariness any use beyond its entertainment value or one of vulgar criticism? I’d plead for its central role in the epistemiological search for ‘truth’, which ought to inform rational policy.

In a deductive paradigm we derive ‘truth’ from first principles. Policies based on deontological principles, on ‘will to power’, political ‘command and control’, and utopian idealism are all avatars within this paradigm. Here the contrarian is granted a limited or supporting role: checking logical nuts and bolts underlying statements derived from the axiomatic truths – essentially the role of mechanic in the logical machine, best kept deep inside the bowels of the good Ship Utopia. For, provided the logic is impeccable, such derived truths have the same’ truth content’ as axioms – together they stand or fall. There is no room for organic improvement – only heresy or revolution might emerge.

The inductive mode – observing the reality and adapting to it – never does yield ‘truths’. At best we have provisional conjectures that survive temporarily until challenged. As we test them through predictions, only negations but never affirmations emerge. Karl POPPER has highlighted this dialectical process of ‘creative destruction’ by which we asymptotically approach knowledge. Policy is the orphan in this process – from ‘optimal’ is is downgraded to ‘best effort’ or ‘good enough’, necessarily overturned as experience changes consciousness.As consolation degrees of freedom are obtained – there are many such lesser policies. Here, in my view, the contrarian has the core function of challenging received wisdoms, and in so doing forcing a continuous reappraisal. He is the opposing pole in the dialectical process, and he needs to be with the captain on the bridge.

If only life were so simple…

For one, life is chaotic – inherently unpredictable, hence irregular. The contrarian will try to focus on singularities, while the planner will try to optimise periods of limited random change. Both are right, but the planner is mostly in command, for singularities are rare events, which usually happen when one least expects it. Meanwhile, life is administration.

Our mind craves regularity, and patterns. Having achieved a higher level of consciousness, we need to see the world as orderly, or we’ll despair. As we look back into our past we discover historical patterns – lines that connect the dots – even though this may be no more than seeing faces in the moon or channels on Mars. No longer can we separate chance from purpose, so we ascribe all historical events to conscious purpose. Long chains of causation seem so plausible to our preset mind; it is difficult to challenge the view that intelligwnt deisn may shape and rule the world at will. The contrarian’s role is to prick these and other illusions.

Two such illusions I may specifically mention. One is the ‘problem of silent evidence’. For one lucky draw at the lottery millions had to go empty handed – sheer bad luck. Life kicks up winners for us to admire – our solitary heroes and statesmen – and silently buries the masses of losers. In hindsight it all looks preordained, and repeatable, if we only imitate the winner. As we focus on success and blithely ignore failures we do not realise our practicing ‘cargo cult’. Inm addition, we never get to experience or assess the ‘roads not taken’. We do not honour equally those who won at war and those who averted one – for we cannot imagine what they saved us from.

The other illusion is the ‘confirmation bias’. No sooner have we established a conjecture that we spend much effort in searching for confirming evidence. As we find it, we feel comforted in our views. But confirmation is not affirmation, which only follows from controlled experiment. As Nassim Taleb argues: if the hypothesis is that only white swans exist looking at all of them will not prove that there is no black swan. Checking them all is a waste of time as it is misleading, while looking for a possible black swan is faster and more economical in approach.

By focusing on contradiction, rather than confirmation the contrarian drives and accelerates the process of evolutionary adaptation.

Diplomacy is past and future history – hence chaotic. We do not advance through the thickets of chaos thanks to ‘theory’, but through contradiction – trial and error. Regrettably, in order to infuse some order into the chaos of international relations diplomacy has tended to rely on protocols, precedents, and rituals, which are a special form of confirmation. Consequently, diplomacy’s greatest danger is self-reference, stasis, and involution.

In The Hindu of June 26, 2009, the Indian conglomerate TATA advertises: “From today, question every answer”. This should be the guiding principle of every diplomat and teacher of diplomacy.

_____________

A Comment to Henderson

Aldo Matteucci – DiploFoundation, Geneva (Switzerland)

David HENDERSON (World Economics X, 1) is certainly right in highlighting the “uncritical and over-presumptive ways in which [economists] have dealt with the scientific aspects” of climate change. All of his points are well taken and deserve expeditious and thorough treatment. As the aging IBM-adage says: garbage in – garbage out. I may add for good measure Oskar MORGENSTERN’s forgotten lesson about the inevitable loss of information when data are numerically-mathematically processed [i]. Models may inherently (and inadvertedly) produce garbage as they grind good numbers.

There are inherent limits to improving the data, however. Even were HENDERSON’s points implemented by tomorrow at dusk – the science would continue to provide surprises and discoveries as of the day after. Climate study is truly ‘work in progress’: and there is no end in sight, just asymptotic accumulation of knowledge. We’ll never know for sure what lies ahead: complex systems like the climate are structurally unpredictable, and talk about  impending ‘tipping points’ is so much speculation – as the millions of butterflies attest, whose flapping of the wings did not create a hurricane in New York.

As crucial as the demand for better data is – it is only half the task. Lord KEYNES’ gently chided all of us: “Practical men, who believe themselves to be quite exempt from any intellectual influence, are usually the slaves of some defunct economist.” The current predicament of the economic profession after the collapse of the ‘rational expectations’ paradigm should alert us to the danger of using simplifying assumptions, axioms and incomplete models in policy making. We may upgrade the facts; but do we verify and upgrade the underlying thinking? Or might not the opposite be true: hopeful paradigms, tentative insights, conjectures or working hypotheses are ‘stretched’ until they become platitudes or harden into dogma?

This comment, therefore, aims to enlarge the discussion. When HENDERSON speaks of received opinion he is right – albeit incomplete. ‘Received opinion’ refers not just to the underlying science: it refers even more to the conceptual framework currently being used to address the issue. The following might then be seen as a preliminary and provisional list of conceptual and methodological issues that economists could usefully converse about while sitting around the campfire of reason waiting for the lumbering science train to catch up.

A review of our conceptual models may have consequences beyond the better treatment of better data. It may, hopefully, help change the kind of data we use by highlighting gaps and stimulating science to look beyond its own – quite limited – conceptual framework. For all its strengths the IPCC process does not undertake or commission research, neither on its own account, nor on behest of ‘policy’. Is it not strange that ‘policy’ has no requests of its own to make to science? After all, economists, not the statistical bodies, have driven the definition and collection of economic data. Is it not somewhat anomalous that there is no institutionalised dialogue on data between ‘policy’ and ‘science’?

1.            Naming the issue

Mankind tells stories to itself – that’s the way we all make sense of chaotic reality. Depending on the choice of point of view – assumptions rather than findings – or which interests are foremost on the story-teller’s mind, stories may vary fundamentally[ii]. These stories vie for broader acceptance and thus social legitimacy. Whoever controls ‘the story’ also controls the framework of a negotiation and – to a good extent – the outcome. ‘Soft power’ is much about controlling the ‘story’. Tackling an issue thus begins with its proper ‘naming’. ‘Naming’ and the choice of an analytical framework for policy action are closely related.

For historical reasons ‘climate change’ has been ‘named’ an ‘environmental’ and ‘pollution’ problem, which is certainly not wrong as to its origins. This kind of naming has consequences for the way the issue is tackled, however:

(a)                it implicitly favours mitigation and abatement policies by analogy with other pollution problems;

(b)               it focuses on the damage, while underplaying possible benefits of climate change;

(c)                it introduces an implicit element of ‘guilt’ (as enshrined in the ‘polluter pays’ principle<a href="[iii]), rather than pointing towards a common responsibility, or the most economic solution to the problem;

(d)               It tends to focus on ‘material balances’, while underplaying the role of social institutions and inventiveness (technology) in adapting to the impact. Not only does it hide complementarities/ competitivenesses in policies, but it might misdirect efforts away from needed social reforms.

This perception of the problem, coupled with projections of irreversible environmental degradation, has led to what I might call ‘environment/climate change exceptionalism’ – the contention that the problem is so imminent and immense as to push aside all other concerns, or make them subsidiary to the solution of the core issue.

On the contrary, I’d opine that climate change policies are not a ‘separate’ issue but one of the legs of the tripod: resources, technologies, and environment (of which climate change is part), which are the long term basis of sustainable development. To state it bluntly: climate change policies are part of social and economic development policies – and we should name them correspondingly. While climate change policies are a necessary component of development, they are not sufficient, not even to save us from the impending doomsday.

Three reasons in particular may be advanced:

(1)               Most of the ‘impacts’ of climate change (from its impacts on health to food security) concern what we define currently as ‘social and economic development’. We are confronted with the choice whether to address the issues directly (e.g. through health policies or poverty reduction) or indirectly by addressing climate change issues[iv];

(2)               Climate change is intimately connected with energy policy (some say it is 80 % so) – and energy is what drives economic development. To argue for decarbonification is to argue for a major change in energy and development policies;

(3)               Public policies all demand resources – be they from the public purse, private firms, households, or individuals. While we all might ‘do more’, in the end it is a matter of priorities, and doing A means that C and D will not receive as much attention.

One may argue then, with A. K. SEN, that “enhancement of human freedom is the main objective and the primary means of development.”[v]. This applies to climate change policy no less than any other social and development policy. There is no basis or justification for ‘climate change exceptionalism’.

Sustainable development cannot be divorced from social justice. A solution that would have assets trickle up and some income trickle down would prove unworkable even before the ‘ecological limits’ were reached. Climate change policies that would advocate compression and convergence from the current worldwide or regional distribution of income would be unlikely to find approval with those large parts of humanity that have been short-changed in their development so far.

The core issue facing mankind today are how to square sustainable development with resource use and environmental protection. These issues are totally intertwined. To break them out and privilege one of the tree legs is to distort our predicament.

2.         The ‘precautionary principle’ – can it bear so much weight?

Climate change discourse is greatly shaped by the ‘precautionary principle’. We are treated to a weekly parade of observations which, when projected into the future, portents doom: disease, famines, the image of New York’s statue of Liberty sinking under the sea – whatever. Having weighed in with such bad tidings, preventive action – de-carbonification – is presented as self-evident precaution. This scenario brooks no discussion: the case for ‘climate change exceptionalism’ rests on “better safe than sorry”.

Caution, certainly a wise stance, has moved here beyond an argument from experience and hardened into principle, or even become deontological imperative – it has become a major ‘killer argument’. In some countries it has become legally binding and subject to judicial review. There are even attempts to enshrine it in international law.

The inverted commas around ‘principle’ are meant to flag a logical difficulty worthy of a closer look. I’ve difficulties with a principle indiscriminately applied to justifying both mitigation and avoidance of nuclear power. This difficulty, incidentally, is far from new: Thomas Paine and David Hume at the core argued about the application of the ‘precautionary principle’ to the American and French Revolution. In hindsight, while we may usefully argue as to whether revolution is the best way to achieve liberty, we would not reject liberty out of fear that it might lead to licence.

The precautionary principle is deeply conservative. By definition any change involves at least some regrets: if avoiding regrets is established as our foremost guiding light, then any change should be rejected on the grounds that we are already living in Panglossian perfection. For there will always be “known unknowns and unknown unknowns” – in the elegant formulation of a former US Secretary of Defence. Privileging ‘unknowns’ over ‘knowns’, however, debases rational discourse, while opening the field to subjective and selective bias towards catastrophism. Let’s be honest – we are more likely to believe a headline that ‘the end of the world is near’ than the prediction that ‘paradise is just around the corner’.

While I may use the precautionary principle to stop my child from attempting to walk on water, I would not accept it as his excuse not to get out of bed in the morning. David RUNCIMAN[vi] and Cass R. SUNSTEIN[vii] have forcefully argued for a rational application of the ‘precautionary principle’, i.e. to replace dogma with verification of the principle in the specific context. How much of the vaulted ‘principle’ will remain, will be interesting to watch. After all, it’s this principle that got Buridan’s ass into terminal trouble.

There is nothing wrong about the ‘precautionary principle’ that a good dose of common sense won’t cure. What might help, I’d argue, is to stop turning ‘an arguable argument into an obsessional fantasy’ for action.

3.         The conundrum of intergenerational responsibility

Unlike people, societies don’t have a finite time horizon. Despite this basic difference, we intuitively apply to policy an analogy from our individual experience and demand that ‘every generation should make reasonable allowance for the needs of the future’. As self-evident as it sounds – this principle creates significant logical problems.

We all save ‘for a rainy day’. Yet a rainy day might hide another, so when should we use money we have stashed away to cover such a contingency? Mostly we die before we are able to resolve this conundrum, and either the heirs or the insurance company gets rich. This conundrum is exacerbated with public policy. There always is a ‘future generation’ to provide for. This would make ‘no use’ the only legitimate one – an obvious abdication of responsibility. We should not bequeath future generations a badly diminished world, it is said[viii]. But this view is flawed: as we transform the world we leave to future generations enormous tangible and intangible assets, albeit of a different kind. True, we may be ‘mining the environment’ – thanks to our efforts, meanwhile, human knowledge doubles every five years. Is this not compensation enough?

Other ethical issues emerge. Future generations cannot tell us about their wants and preferences. At best, we can apply to them the Golden Rule (“don’t impose on others what you’d not like being imposed on you”), but that implies that values remain unchanged, or that we act in paternalistic ways, as Paul SAMUELSON opined (he rejected the Golden Rule with the caveat: “they may have other tastes…”). Conversely, future generations are in no position to compensate us for the benefits they receive from us in terms of development – they’ll inherit it all for free, warts and all.

If we assume a reasonable rate of growth, future generations are likely to be much better off than we are today – at 1.5% annual growth it is over four times in 100 years. The question is then: to what extent should this generation sacrifice for the future where everyone will be richer (comparatively speaking) thanks to our inheritance?

This issue is further complicated by the fact that we should atone for ‘past sins’ – the accumulation of GHG that accrued ever since industrialisation (or even civilisation?) began. Is it reasonable to expect today’s world to bear on its weak shoulders the burdens of past, present, and future?

Distributional justice makes the issue even thornier. We do find it difficult to arbitrate between accumulation and distribution, and many argue that ‘trickle down’ is the best our society can achieve. Meanwhile, even should the tide raise all boats, the gap between rich and poor is getting wider – and this is perceived as unfair[ix]. Favouring future generations inevitably short-changes today’s poor. This is not just an ethical issue: it is one of political stability of our societies – rich and poor, present and future ones.

4.            Toward more objective benefit-cost models

What is intuitively simpler than weighing benefits and costs? Much of the climate change discourse is about benefits and costs. Ever since benefit-cost analysis emerged as a policy tool over fifty years ago, what looked as a simple counting procedure has proven to be a logical minefield. I shall list a few areas of concern, without claiming completeness.

(1)               Bias in identifying costs and benefits. Nothing is easier than being selective in identifying benefits and costs. The larger and more complex the issue, the greater the opportunities for identifying/ignoring costs or benefits to suit one’s prejudices. When we were young and interventionists the benefits from public action easily had the upper hand – even if meant double-counting or ignoring externalities. Now that we are old and full of regrets the pendulum has swung the other way and catastrophism seems de rigeur. Here a few examples from the current climate change discourse:

• Deaths from excess heat[x] are totalled up, but ‘lives saved’ when milder winters reduce mortality from cold are ignored. Of course, they are not easily ascertained, but the inherent incompleteness of the analysis should be acknowledged and weighted.
• Desertification in the subtropics is highlighted, while the fact that wide areas in the sub-arctic regions of Canada and Russia may become available for agriculture tends to be ignored.
• False attribution of damage: increasing damage from hurricanes is e.g. shown in harrowing time series and linked to climate change. The latest IPCC Report is very cautious in linking hurricane patterns and climate change[xi]. What is obvious is that, in the last fifty years, we have been foolish enough to build in the path of hurricanes or delinquent in the upkeep of abatement measures[xii]. Should we blame climate change for our own mistakes? Are we not engaged in a convenient exercise of ‘post hoc, proper hoc’?
• Epidemics: will climate change spread malaria? This prediction is repeated quite often. Malaria was once endemic in Europe, when it was colder than today. Meanwhile malaria has been eradicated in the course of economic development and is unlikely to return even with higher mean temperatures. There is no reason to believe that this process will not continue.
• Famines: As A. SEN has shown, famines are not so much a matter of physical shortages as of lack of entitlements. In rich countries crop shortfalls are routinely compensated for with imports. True, climate change may regionally lead to crop failures – the best insurance against such famines, however, is not mitigation, but economic development with consequent enhanced entitlements. Even global shortfalls can be met adaptively, by storage, or changing food patterns.

(2)               Opportunity costs: Mitigation will save lives and avoid costs. In economic terms, however, the value of a mitigation strategy is not the full benefit that might accrue from this policy but just the savings differential with respect to the best alternative yielding the same result. More generally, when using indirect methods to deal with a problem, we should not count full, but only differential benefits over direct methods.

• Epidemics: malaria might be eradicated with a targeted programme that costs say, 40 billion US$[xiii]. If climate change were to increase the total incidence of malaria by say 10%, the benefits from mitigation would be no more than the 4 billion saved from not having to treat additional instances of malaria.
• Flooding of islands: the value of mitigation in such instances might be no more than the costs of relocating the population, or the building of protective dams (e.g. in Venice).

Costing but one strategy is an engineering job. Economics is about comparing choices. The economic profession has failed to force the comparison between strategies, in this case e.g. mitigation vs. adaptation. The IPCC is quite reserved on adaptation[xiv].
The reason for this lack of discussion over strategies is the engineering approach emanating from science that economists have bought, thus abdicating their essential and proper role. A target concentration of greenhouse gases (GHG) is established, more or less scientifically. It is easy to calculate from this value the mitigation requirements, while it is difficult to gauge the contribution of adaptation to the control of GHG. So the mitigation strategy is selected by default – not because it is superior, or more economic: it is the only thing that can be handled easily. Having set mitigation as the strategy, the discussion can be channelled along the path of least conceptual resistance: tax vs. cap and trade, and other conventional solutions.

(3)      Consequentialism[xv]: We might need to evaluate public actions by their consequences for mankind in terms of utility – and eschew any ‘deontological[xvi]’ or ‘rights-/duty based’ (absolute) morality. This view is not uncontroversial, for it implies fungibility between qualitatively different realities like life, health[xviii]: we all recoil instinctively from putting a price on life, even tough we act so routinely. On the other hand, the deontological approach tends to create moral dilemmas that paralyse decision-making. 

 (4)       The poverty of projections: all projections have an implicit conservative bias – while they may approximate quantities, they signally fail to quantify qualitative change. Even ten years ago, it was impossible to grasp or quantify the impact of internet[xviiii]. With knowledge doubling every five years or so, it is simply not possible to imagine what technological means the next generation or so will have at its disposal to adjust to climate change. If anything, we are likely to underestimate change – either way[xix].

(5)      Discount rate: Learned papers have been written on the appropriate social discount rate, some of them in World Economics. It is not my intention to belabour the technical aspects of the field, but to put the discussion in a larger framework. All public policies need to be assessed consistently with the same social discount rate, in order to obtain proper and consistent ranking. Following this line of argument, were all extant policies, from health to economic development, to be re-assessed with the social discount rate Lord STERN has used for climate change policies, the outcome might disappoint him. TB kills one million people per year – right now. Fulfilling the Millennium goals means 250 million people will die unnecessarily before 2015. If I were to use Lord STERN’s social discount rate to assess the economic value of such health programmes, they might come out on top.

Fundamentally, benefit-cost analysis is about policy choices. The poverty of current economic discourse in the realm of climate change is highlighted by the fact that the broad discussion about strategy choices has degenerated into a ‘go – no go’ discussion of a single strategy: mitigation. Maybe we’ll end up with a mitigation strategy in the end: at this stage of the discussion, however, mitigation just enjoys the status of a foregone conclusion.

This being said, much could be gained by a methodological review along the lines of what Otto ECKSTEIN did for water management projects[xx] or LITTLE and MIRRLEES for development projects[xxi].

5.         The Fallacy of the Commons

Garrett HARDIN[xxii] first spoke about ‘the tragedy of the commons’, arguing that there is a presumptive relationship between problem and institutional framework in which the solution is to be found: a ‘global’ problem necessitates a ‘global’ solution. The current global institutional framework of choice – the UNFCCC – follows closely HARDIN’s suggestion.

Garrett HARDIN argued that where exceedingly numerous ‘rational and economic’ agents exploit a finite resource, only mutual coercion mutually agreed upon can stop the overexploitation of the ‘commons’. He states: “The only kind of coercion I recommend is mutual coercion, mutually agreed upon by the majority of the people affected.”

HARDIN denies that ‘the invisible hand’ – individuals acting locally – can in any way solve the problem, for the root of the ‘tragedy of the commons’ lies in ‘situational ethics’. Individuals acting ‘rationally’ (his definition!) to exploit a resource would have to change their behaviour to take into account the emerging scarcity. It is not in the individual interest to switch unless all (or a majority) does, hence the consequent inevitable destruction of the common resource.

In 1968, based on such assumptions, HARDIN advocated a global and coercitive solution for population control. No one took HARDIN’s plea seriously. 50 years later, population trends world-wide are edging toward equilibrium despite the absence of any global solution in HARDIN’s sense. Education, as embodied in literacy, is doing the trick[xxiii]. Millions of individual decisions, unrelated, unselfish, yield the desired result of stabilising the population. Not perfect, for sure, but possibly ‘good enough’[xxiv] – too early to tell.

HARDIN’s ‘tragedy of the commons’ has become established policy consensus – his prescriptive error has been overlooked. From today’s perspective his argument would then seem to be closer to ideology than fact – and a caveat to all those that pretend to predict human behaviour. In an ideal and timeless world, HARDIN might be right. Pragmatically, a timely ‘global solution’ might just be beyond our grasp. Global solutions are notoriously hard to achieve – as the fate of the Doha Round attests. Meanwhile, ‘coalitions of the willing’ (akas Free Trade Agreements) are flourishing and supply chains have learned to avoid the worst trade barriers. Maybe there is a lesson to be pondered here. And I should not discount current voluntaristic efforts either – they may be harbinger of political change.

The current climate change policy discourse – the UNFCC process – focuses on global solutions, and tends to downplay alternatives. There is nothing wrong with pursuing the high road. But pragmatically I’d look beyond ‘global approach’ for ‘anything that works’ as complementary or replacement policies. True, the good is the enemy of the best, but can we truly afford to be so selective, or ideologically minded?

6.            Waiting for better science

While waiting for better science – and this better happen soon, lest it become discredited – there is much to be done better to equip decision-takers with the degrees of freedom they need to find viable and politically acceptable policies. They are facing huge tasks, ranging from raising awareness of the issue to legitimising solutions. They need better and more inclusive – if not coherent – arguments. If politics is the art of the possible, we need to make sound politics possible, not to narrow the options through conceptual fundamentalism. There might be wisdom in ‘good enough’ policies.

I do not expect to find essential truths: at best increased depth of understanding, at worst ‘to be wrong in sufficiently interesting ways’[xxv]. At the moment, however, such a wider dialogue looks quite fragmentary. It occurs at the fringes of the ‘global mitigation framework’, and thrives as long as it is not perceived as threatening to ‘received opinion’, as HENDERSON would formulate it. We should be bolder, and worry that our principles and axioms might in fact be blinkers. We should remember that much of Western philosophy built on dichotomies – tertium non datur – until GÖDEL came along[xxvi]. We are still suffering from this ‘black and white’ view of reality, or Platonic idealism. Essentialism, aggressive judgentalism and Manichaeism are unlikely to be useful guides.

In the same vein, curtailing freedom through centralised planning is a dangerous temptation. I would not argue philosophically or politically – that is on principle. I’d argue pragmatically: if the bounty of life is based on trial and error we might be humble enough as to remain sceptical of our abilities to progress by ‘intelligent design’.

I might conclude on a personal and prejudiced note: is there anthropogenic forcing? Certainly – and quite likely on a major scale. What will happen next? The only thing I know is that the ‘perverse milkmaid’ projections that are so much the fashion today are unlikely to eventuate. Nature will play many tricks on us, and so will mankind. Should we go for mitigation? I’d be quite wary of working through long chains of causation. After all, we are not after climate change per se, but its effect on our daily life. On the long way to the final outcome, many unexpected things may happen – and the effect may be lost[xxvii]. I’d stick close to adaptation as more practicable, testable, and verifiable.

In particular, I’m not sure of the potential of the ‘global mitigation framework’ that is so much the fashion today. 20 years after the creation of the UNFCCC cooperative progress has been excruciatingly slow. Meanwhile, it was mostly economic development that has driven the decline in greenhouse gas intensity – measured as metric tons of carbon dioxide equivalent (MTCO₂e) emitted per million dollars of GDP[xxviii]. We are not missing something, by any chance, are we?

On the other hand I’m seriously concerned that climate change policy may crowd out other, and more immediate, development priorities, which are not necessarily complementary. Education, health, and more generally poverty reduction are our foremost task – Lord STERN notwithstanding. Whatever the role of economic development in creating the problem, I am sceptical that we can get out of the predicament without it. Appropriate and sustainable technologies, together with significant alleviation of poverty to stabilise our societies, would seem to be necessary part of any solution.

The worst straight-jackets are those we sew for ourselves: they fit so well, we hardly notice them. I’d plead at this stage for a great measure of institutional flexibility, pragmatism, and creativity[xxix]. We have spent the XX^th century trying to ‘make our own reality’ in accordance with ideologies and models. I’m not convinced that the outcome justifies the human costs that went into the experiment. The great advantage of pragmatism is that we may lower our expectations – it only has to be ‘good enough’ for us to survive – even if only by the skin of our teeth.

______________

[ii]           A current example concerns opposite ‘stories’ vying to describe the conflict between Western and Islamic worlds. See Clifford GEERTZ (2003) Which way to Mecca? Parts I and II, New York Review of Books, June 12,/July 4.

[iii]              In his seminal paper: The problem of social cost, Ronald H. COASE points out that efficiency is obtained as soon as the market recognizes the effect. It is a matter of distributional justice who pays whom. See: Ronald H. COASE (1990): The firm the market and the law. Chicago University Press, Chicago, 217 pp.

[iv]              A good example of distortions in the current discussion of the issues may be gleaned from the fact that ‘famine’ is now being classified under ‘environment’. See: Lester R. BROWN (2009): Could food shortages bring down civilisation? Scientific American, May. It is noteworthy, incidentally, that the article, while mentioning biofuels, fails to consider change in dietary habits as a strategy for famine prevention/reduction. If poverty reduction is the best protection against regional famines one may add that global grain scarcity should lead to destocking of domestic animals first, not famine – if the income distribution is right.

[v]               A. K. SEN (1999): Development as Freedom. Anchor Books, New York, N.Y.; xvi + 366 pp. Pg. 53

[vi]          David RUNCIMAN (2004): The Precautionary Principle. London Review of Books, 1 April. See also: Jeremy WALDRON (288): Reality check. London Review of Books, 10 April.

[vii]             Cass R. SUNSTEIN (2005): Laws of fear. Beyond the precautionary principle. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, UK, xii + 234 pp. In particular, he argues for three steps: a narrow Anti-Catastrophe Principle, designed for the most serious risks; close attention to costs and benefits; and an approach called ‘libertarian paternalism’, designed to respect freedom of choice while also moving people in directions that will make their lives go better.

[viii]             This is the implied message of Tim FLANNERY (1994): The future eaters. Reed New Holland, Sydney; 423 pp.

[ix]             Thomas POGGE (2008): Growth and Inequality: Understanding Recent Trends and Political Choices. Dissent, Winter issue.

[x]             www.who.int/globalchange/news/fsclimandhealth/en/index.html

Cause of death is an area where the quality of the data is very poor. As long as no foul play is involved, the medical practitioner issuing a death certificate has pretty wide latitude in indicating the cause of death. He may follow convention or fad in identifying the cause of death. Only an autopsy might shed light, and this is seldom performed. Furthermore, the immediate cause of death may not tell the full story. Admittedly, it is the last straw that breaks the camel’s back. But are we logically at leave to blame this straw and ignore the whole charge on which the straw came to rest? Or put in another way, should the heat-induced death of an already terminally ill patient blamed on heat alone?

[xi]              The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) says (from Working Group I Report, Summary for Policy Makers (2007): “There is observational evidence for an increase of intense tropical cyclone activity in the North Atlantic since about 1970, correlated with increases of tropical sea surface temperatures. There are also suggestions of increased intense tropical cyclone activity in some other regions where concerns over data quality are greater.  Multi-decadal variability and the quality of the tropical cyclone records prior to routine satellite observations in about 1970 complicate the detection of long-term trends in tropical cyclone activity. There is no clear trend in the annual numbers of tropical cyclones.“

[xii]             Roger A. PIELKE Jr. et als. (2008): Normalized hurricane damage in the US: 1900 – 2005. Natural Hazards Review, February, pp. 29 – 42 attempts to factor out this aspect and concludes: “There is no remaining trend of increasing absolute damage in the data set, which follows the lack of trends in landfall frequency or intensity observed over the twentieth century.”

[xiii]             Jeffrey D. SACHS (2007): Ending Malaria Deaths in Africa. Scientific American, October.

[xiv]                 http://www.ipcc.ch/ipccreports/tar/wg2/pdf/wg2TARchap18.pdf

[xv]                 http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/consequentialism/

[xvi]                 http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/ethics-deontological/

[xvii]            For a corresponding view see, e.g.: http://www.monbiot.com/archives/2008/02/19/an-exchange-of-souls/

[xviii]           Eric J. HOBSBAWM (1999): Intervista sul nuovo secolo. Editori Laterza, Bari; 165 pp.

[xix]             It is instructive to read with today’s eyes Clifford GGERTZ (1963): Agricultural involution. The processes of ecological change in Indonesia. University of California Press; xx + 176 pp. His pessimistic tone reflects so on much our collective incapacity to imagine (which is different from projecting) the future.

[xx]          Otto ECKSTEIN (1958): Water-Resources Development: The Economics of Project Evaluation. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Mass.

[xxi]             Ian M. D.LITTLE, and J. A. MIRRLEES. (1974): Social Cost-Benefit Analysis. Project Appraisal and Planning for Developing Countries. OECD, Paris

[xxii]        Garrett HARDIN (1968): “The Tragedy of the Commons”, Science, 162 (1968):1243-1248.

[xxiii]           See Youssef COURBAGE – Emmanuel TODD (2007): La rencontre des civilisations. Seuil, Paris ; 160 pp.

[xxiv]        The price has been a staggering increase in consumption, which is stretching the world’s resources to the limit. The headcount may inch towards a stable level, but not the appetite. See Jared DIAMOND (2008): What’s Your Consumption Factor? The New York Times – Wednesday 02 January.

[xxv]            A. C. GRAYLING (2008): Truth, meaning and realism. Continuum, New York; vii + 173 pp.

[xxvi]        Ernest NAGEL – James R. NEWMAN (2001): Gödel’s proof. New York University Press, New York; 123 pp.

[xxvii]           A good example of how ‘long chains of causation’ may yield limited intended effects, let’s recall strategic bombing during WWII. Touted as the best way to force Nazi Germany into surrender, it swallowed an enormous amount of the Allied resources. It has estimated that the relationship between resources invested and resources destroyed was 10:1. See: C. P. SNOW (1961): Science and Government. (Oxford) as quoted in A. J. P. TAYLOR (1980): Politicians, socialism and historians. Hamish, Hamilton, London; p. 231. the issue is not whether strategic bombing did serious damage to the German economy – it did – the issue is whether the resources invested in it could not have been better used to yield a quicker victory.

[xxviii]          In the last five years US greenhouse gas intensity has fallen by an average of 2.1% per year (1.9% if we take 1990 as base year) – and this in a period where GHG reduction was not a major political priority. The same phenomenon can be observed in other countries, both developed and emerging economies. The EU, by the way, has not been as successful, cutting intensity by 4.5%. Roughly speaking, economic development it itself represents about ½ of the effort necessary to stabilise CO₂ emissions. See: http://www.state.gov/p/eur/rls/rm/80465.htm

[xxix]        An example of what might be creatively pursued if one is prepared to go beyond convention may be found in the emergent area of ‘nudging’. People often act ‘situationally’ – they react to the context in which the find themselves, rather than in accordance with rationality or resolve. Skilful manipulation of the context – nudging – may yield significant (if not complete) behavioural adaptation. Nudging is then a halfway house between complete discretion and compulsion – in many cases this is a ‘good enough’ solution. See: Richard H. THALER – Cass R. SUNSTEIN (2008): Nudge. Improving decisions about health, wealth, and happiness. Yale University Press, New Haven; x + 293 pp.

Aldo Matteucci – DiploFoundation, Geneva

We all believe in organisation. We worship the Great (or Intelligent) Organiser in the sky, and we admire great organisers, from Alexander of Macedonia to Napoleon. Our mental structures are ‘wired’ toward organisation – cause and effect yielding vertical structures and an causing an ‘ideal’ or ‘visionary’ order to come into existence.

Diplomacy – a discipline (note the term) that emerged out of absolutism – believes in structures, organisation, and of course universal principles. Nothing is more organised than a Ministry of Foreign Affairs – or so we hope. The minister orders and the diplomat execute his vision. This view is replicated within the embassy. Titles and ranks are outward sings of this fascination with order. The personal validates the structural in a self-perpetuating paradigm.

But is it so?

Democracy is in fact – self-organising[i]. Adam Smith understood the power of self-organising markets. But he could not tear himself away completely from his conceptual blinkers – so he spoke of the ‘invisible hand’ behind the self-organisation. Darwin of course discovered that descent of species was self-organising, even though the underlying processes escaped him. The second half of the XX^th century put our awareness of self-organising systems on a scientific basis: chaos theory is its lynch-pin. But the theory did not percolate past a limited number of people. Internet (the great accelerator) is forcing us all to confront reality – the most powerful natural and social processes are self-organising, not directed or organised.

In the town of Switzerland a 17-year old went on Facebook, and suggested that his cohort celebrate the end of summer with a ‘botellion’. This is the term given in Spain to spontaneous gatherings were egregious quantities of alcohol are drunk and a good time is had by all. Well – except for those who have to clean up after the mess and the police resp. the emergency services, which are overwhelmed by the event.

Within a few days 5’000 had promised to be there. More were expected. Panic soon spread among the authorities. Barricades of paragraphs were tested for strength. The press resonated with the story. The original ‘initiator’ has withdrawn, but the official pressure just elicited counter-pressure. Confrontation looms ahead. Meanwhile it seems that every Swiss city with a significant Facebook community wants to have a ‘boteillon’ of its own.

The business world has already begun consciously to harness the powers of self-organisation. Wikipedia[ii] is the most obvious example. But this business model has been copied many times over. Boeing’s Dreamliner – the 787 – is being built by ‘as broad network of partners who are collaborating in real-time, sharing risk and knowledge to achieve a higher level of performance.[iii] It is not unlikely that within a couple of decades economic power will rest not with the owners of capital, but with these ‘networks’ – with poorly defined property rights. The network that has created the 787 is so unique, and has embedded so much knowhow that it will have become – like Wikipedia – a ‘natural monopoly’. One wonders, incidentally, how traditional international trade policies will deal with such transnational networks.

Meanwhile, diplomacy sails on unfazed, following the old vertical organising model. The UNFCCC is the latest diplomatic craze. Based on the ideology that ‘global problem requires a global solution’ it has achieved nothing since its inception 20 years ago; in fact, it has significantly retarded tackling the problem by trying to get all the ducks in line. To this end it has taken on the impossible task of remedying the past, planning for the future, and sharing the burden of today – all at the same time. No wonder it is foundering.

Self-organising groups are tackling the climate change issues in concrete terms. People (and countries) are changing their consumption habits – not acting selfishly by sitting it out, as the UNFCCC conceptual model postulates. It might not be enough to solve the problem, but is a hell of a lot more than what has been achieved with the ‘top-down’ (or organised) approach so far.

The Doha Development Agenda remains unfulfilled – yet free trade is being advanced through regional free trade arrangements. True, they are suboptimal, but still better than no progress at all. Even labour and social standards are spreading among the ‘sinners’. Not on account of international agreements, but because the buyers insist that such standards be applied when producing the wares they have ordered, and verify it.

Not that diplomacy had not been given warnings over the past centuries. From Machiavelli to Metternich attempts at self-organisation were tried, only to be overwhelmed by hegemonic ambitions. In Europe the EU is the outcome – a self-organising structure at its core. Yet classic diplomacy still hankers for a ‘pecking order’, rather than accepting self-organising multipolarity of interests.

Paraphrasing John Lennon, one may whisper to this or that self-centred ambassador: ‘diplomacy is what happens to you while you are busy (strategically) planning other things’. The latest wave of ‘China bashing’ emerged because the son of Woody Allen, who with his mother is interested in Darfur, launched a campaign to shame China for its support of Sudan. Tibet was the obvious rallying point.

Self-organising groups are grasping the diplomatic initiative everywhere – leaving diplomats non-plussed. It is high time for diplomats to shed their ideological blinkers and join the fray. Principled idealism – in the Platonic sense of higher order behind reality, for which we should strive – is bunk. In fact, it might turn out to be counter-productive: by focusing on the gap between what can be achieved and what ‘ought to be’ in theoretical terms we feel dispirited and despondent. Instead we should be rejoicing that the solution is ‘good enough’.

Self-organising groups produce ‘good enough’ solutions fast and effectively. Wikipedia has been proven to be no worse than the Britannica – on average. It has taken Wikipedia seven years, a few basic rules of operation, no grand design, no bureaucracy, and essentially no budget, to get where Britannica is after 220 years.

We are running out of time. Is it not time to switch to self-organising solutions?

____________________

Reading books on diplomacy (and even history books on the subject) one might be misled into believing that it is akin to engineering – a matter of precise calculation of advantages and costs. Of course, in practice building bridges is different than drawing plans in an air-conditioned office, so one may expect to get one’s feet dirty, but not one’s hands. The same applies to diplomacy – so the textbooks; nowhere is the ‘dark side of diplomacy’ ever mentioned.

In the years leading up to 1282 Michael VIII Paleologus, Eastern Roman Emperor, was beset by Charles I of Sicily, then the most powerful monarch in Western Europe. To stave off the threat Michael allied himself with Peter III, king of Aragon (Spain). He got Pope Nicholas III to be more than neutral, and bribery was spread around the Papal Court. Giovanni da Procida was sent to Sicily to rally the discontented Sicilians. On 30^th March 1282 Palermo rose, killed the French garrison, and declared the island’s independence. The Sicilian Vespers[i] broke King Charles’ power; but also that of the Papacy. The Avignon exile ensued, and consequently, the Reformation – the Sicilian Vespers were not just a local revolt, they were a pivotal event in European history.

According to the textbooks diplomacy was invented a century or so later – whatever. This bit of history to me shows diplomacy at its fullest if not its ethical best. We see alliances between far-flung kingdoms, bribery, corruption, and surreptitious meddling in another country’s affairs – this is the darker side of diplomacy.

The Venetian Ambassadors to the Sublime Porte were masters in manipulation of the serail. Gifts were spread among the wizirs and beys, often with great effect. Merchants were expected to report home on anything of political and economic interest they’d seen. The debriefings were thorough and much assisted the Republic in surviving the onslaught of the Turks.

Mazarin employed the ruthless Père Joseph to manipulate everyone in and outside France. The ‘secret du roi’ – the precursor of the Deuxième Bureau – was a key instrument of diplomacy, then and later.

Fast-forwarding to today, the UN is routinely spied upon by the Great Powers. Journalists and organisations front for foreign interests. American diplomats are spotted around the Caspian Sea with suitcases full of cash. The US ‘intelligence’ budget is estimated at over 70 billions – 70% of it is outsourced, thus blurring the line between private and public activity. The Vatican blatantly manipulates a mass meeting at the beginning of this year to bring down the centre-left coalition across the Tiber. New elections are called, and the right wins. Benedict XVI publicly expresses his ‘joy’ at the electoral outcome.

I’d say little has changed as far as the ‘dark side of diplomacy’ is concerned – it has just gotten more complex and technical. Yet the diplomacy textbooks blithely ignore it, except for recommending prudence and secrecy as one goes about one’s daily diplomatic business. In a world where there are no spies, bribes or manipulations, one wonders where the dangers come from.

No government will refrain from using ‘the darker side of diplomacy’ if it suits its interests and it is able to use it. The only rule is – don’t get caught; unless it wants to be seen as powerful enough to dictate the outcome. Some governments have moral guidelines – killing may be considered unseemly (until the deed is upgraded to ‘vital interest’). Overuse will blunt the instrument – too many plots on too many fronts are a recipe for ‘blowback’.

For the discerning diplomat this opens up the archane world of ‘conspiracy’ theories. The problem with them all is that – once one accepts the possibility of a conspiracy – their number is infinite, and all more or less equally improbable. Skepticism should be the lens through which she views the diplomatic and political world. It is a wise attitude to take in any case.

As for the teaching of diplomacy – it better confront the fact that ‘the darker side of diplomacy’ is not irrelevant ‘noise’ to be safely ignored when going about the business of teaching the ‘regularities’ of diplomacy and constructing ‘general theories’. Robust, unsanitized teaching, based on ‘case studies’, should be fostered – and damn the emasculated theories. Where to begin? I’d suggest the 1953 US-led coup in Iran against Mossadeq: it still casts a long shadow on the relations between the two countries.

Yet hardly anyone realises that potential of the underlying (wiki[i] software for streamlining paperwork in an MFA and significantly improving the efficiency of the archiving system.

‘Wiki’ software essentially allows for the organic creation of ‘meta-narratives’, which allow for a symmetric freedom: the writer(s) are not constrained in the detail they may wish to introduce in the narrative, and the reader is not constrained by the need to wade through the detail.

What are key elements of the ‘wiki’ software?

(1) It can grow organically from a basic text. The ‘top layer’ is a simple text (that can itself be edited, or added on, under defined circumstances) that itself can evolve over time. Layers and layers of underlying details are hyper-linked to it in a structured way and can be easily retrieved from the ‘top layer’ narrative, enriching it as required by the reader. The number of layers and the number of links is essentially endless. Stand-alone documents, photos as well as web links can be incorporated. Flexibility is retained, as the all levels within the narrative can be changed to suit the evolving situation. The construction of a ‘wiki’based text is not done in linear fashion, but intuitively to accommodate the idiosycrasies of the participants.

(2) It is run by multiple editors. Many editors can enrich the text – from set pieces to small remarks. This is either done in democratic fashion (through interaction and reciprocity), or under general supervision (eventual inclusion is authorised by the supervisor). This ensures the emergence of different points of view, as well as recording of detail that may have escaped the ‘authorised’ reporter in the ‘stand-alone’ mode. Authorship is traceable, and entries can be challenged (under specified rules).

Ministries now store files and documents electronically. They may obtain multiple labels in their archives. Conceptually, however, these documents all remain ‘stand-alone’ items linked together only by the fact of the reference number(s). They are not merged into a common ‘meta’-narrative. Reconstructing the narrative becomes a complex, repetitive, cumbersome, and in the end thankless task. Items may be overlooked, and forgotten. The ‘stand-alone’ approach, furthermore, is by its very nature selective and reductive. Disjoined information, the telling anecdote or reflection, is lost as a sole document is created.

Lets make the example of the meta-narrative: ‘negotiation of an FTA’. The ‘top-level’ narrative would refer to key events like the mandate, list all major meetings, provide the current draft of an agreement, and list the main open issues. Such a text would represent a brief to the Minister on the current stand of the negotiation.

§ Under the key word ‘mandate’ one would find in an orderly fashion the internal preparatory work;

§ Under the key word ‘meeting’ one would find the reports of the negotions.

§ Under the key word ‘draft’ one would find article by article the current stand as well as the historical development;

§ Under the key work ‘open issues’ one would find the opposite positions to be reconciled.

The Chief Negotiator would supervise the ‘top layer’ narrative. Members of the delegation would have access to and edit lower layers, as appropriate. The editing could be ad hoc, and disjoined, to suit the larger narrative, rather than be constrained by the ‘stand-alone’ framework.

Such ‘narratives’, once concluded, could be used for training purposes. A junior staff member is given the task to learn how to run an FTA negotiation. As he proceeds in an orderly fashion through the ever increasing layers he absorbs the structural emements of the process.

Finally, such ‘narratives’ could be used to create ‘expert systems’ in which the know-how from departing staff is retained. Before leaving, the staff member uses a simple narrative to record it.

Using major narrative themes finally facilitates the supervision, as the supervising entity (principals like ministers or even Parliament) are confronted with a limited number of then and can be selective in the pursuit of the needed detail. Needless to say, the annual ‘meta-narrative’ of the activities of the Ministry could be greatly facilitated.

MCI 28/5/08

Aldo Matteucci
Senior Fellow, DiploFoundation

Garrett HARDIN[i] argues that where exceedingly numerous ‘rational and economic’ agents exploit a finite resource, only mutual coercion mutually agreed upon can stop the overexploitation of the ‘commons’. He states: “The only kind of coercion I recommend is mutual coercion, mutually agreed upon by the majority of the people affected.”

HARDIN denies that ‘the invisible hand’ – individuals acting locally – can solve the problem, for the root of the tragedy of the commons lies in ‘situational ethics’. Individuals acting rationally to exploit a resource would have to change their behaviour to take into account the emerging scarcity. It is not in the individual interest to switch unless all (or a majority) does, hence the consequent destruction of the common resource.

*

We find many natural instances akin to ‘situational ethics’ in both inanimate and animate nature. Sand can be shapeless dust, something like to a liquid, or a brick, depending on how close the grains are to each other. Phase transitions from gas to liquid to solids are again such instances – where the rules change rapidly. In all cases only local rules – light chemical bonds – apply.

Flocks of birds in flight, or fish as a school also show behaviour akin to ‘situational ethics’ when, coming together, they proceed to move in concert, elegantly, swiftly, as if ordered by an invisible hand, or an intelligent designer. Who has seen the starlings over the setting skies of Rome knows of the infinity variety and beauty of these designs. Computer simulations show that local rules (in birds e.g. simple rules about distance from the surrounding animals) allow the emergence of the common flight patters at will. There is no need for ‘mutual coercion, mutually agreed’ at each and every move, rather infinite variations on the theme of local behavioural rules.

In the case of humanity, HARDIN’s conundrum is self-inflicted. He first creates a cardboard – one-dimensional – view of a human person, and then, predictably, blames him for being so. The fact is: humans are not ‘rational and selfish’ only, but have multiple set of behavioural rules – we call them identities – and they switch them off and on depending on the situation[ii]. A person in the bosom of his family will act differently than when he is in public, or in a crowd, or at the office. Nor is he situationally constrained in his behaviour: he is able (more or less) freely to override the situational ‘default’ identity and innovate. If he finds that the new rules works, or works better, he’ll adopt it. Others will take it up, and the effect may spread across the population. Manias and panics spread that way, but also adaptive behaviour.

*

It is said that for a state to collapse it only needs for good people to do nothing. True. One may just as well argue, however, that for a state to survive it only needs for a few good people to do the (new) right thing.

HARDIN’s solution – mutual coercion, mutually agreed by the majority – certainly is a valid solution. It is important to realise thst it is not the only solution, nor often the easiest and quickest one.

What it happening at the moment in ‘climate change’ is evidence of this insight. While the HARDIN solution – the UNFCCC process – is mired in controvery and essentially in the doldrums, adaptive behaviour based on local initiatives is spreading fast, at all levels. It does not always need a majority, just a few good examplary deeds, to lead the way.

Aldo Matteucci
Senior Fellow, DiploFoundation

He had bought a large map representing the sea,Without the least vestige of land:And the crew were much pleased when they found it to beA map they could all understand.
Lewis CARROLL: The hunting of the Snark

I’d made this comment recently in an off-hand sort of way. I’ve been challenged – so I must stand by my words: diplomacy is where there are no rules.

Let me explain the assertion with an analogy. At the dawn of the electronic age gadgets were all stand-alone. They were not able to inter-connect and communicate. Frustration all around. Slowly, protocols (sic) were established, growing into full-fledged interfaces. Now, it’s: ‘plug and play’. Until an agreement (sic) was reached on how to connect the two pieces of equipment there were no rules, just an unexplored set of possibilities. Multiple solutions were possible. Sitting down and agreeing on one common set of rules that works for both equipments is what diplomacy is all about. Diplomacy is the process by which inchoate possibilities between two principals are transformed into a set of agreed rules. Once diplomacy has established the rules, it will graciously yield its place (and titles) to administration.

How do we get there? It may be trial and error (akas plug and pray): some nerd may find a solution that just happens to work, in a jury-rigged sort of way. Or the process may be a layered and sequential (top-down) one: first a common architecture (a rough outline if you wish) is created, and then lower levels of detail are filled in. In both instances the outcome is the same, however. As the main rules are created, the set of infinite possibilities (the hyperspace of diplomatic outcomes) slowly withers, and eventually disappears. Which way is best depends on circumstances – and the time frame. We may observe youthful periods of creative innovation alternating with mature times of codification and proper (re-)structuring.

The same applies to relations among nations. At the outset, there were no ways to communicate between ‘sovereign states’ – or whatever the brutes in each group saw themselves to be at the dawn of civilisation. In a slow and creative process the first protocols were established, and the network became successively more intricate. Diplomacy is the taming of the strange, cutting the first road through a virgin forest.

Traders were the first diplomats – why? When traders first met strangers, and they had not yet words in common, the handy artefact, the gleaming stone, the food was the common object that could cross the ‘divide of strangeness’, and establish a bridging commonality. A smile ensued, a nod, and it all started from there. The choice of what first to offer to the other side was the diplomatic feat, and much care was devoted to finding the right thing to signify the wish to find a common ground. Women were probably the first to cross the divide of strangeness – often involuntarily – they were the first ambassadors.

*

A quaint reflection? What does this image mean for today’s diplomatic work? A lot, I’d argue.

(1) Diplomacy worth its salt is essentially a creative and innovative process. We may whittle down the realm of possibilities somewhat through a pre-set style, but at a point the creative act takes over: it’s “provare and riprovare”, as Galileo said – try and reject – until the winning combination is found. Diplomatic work is not routine, or it is not diplomacy.

(2) If diplomacy indeed is a matter of ‘taming of the strange’, then the outcome can only be ‘conventions’ – agreements whose essential quality is that they exist. No lifting the veil of ignorance to uncover an underlying grand plan or intelligent design – be it immanent (as religious inclined poeple would have it) or utopian (as idealists dream of).

To draw an example from evolution (the greatest diplomatic exercise of them all in a way) in the beginning a few viable body plans (vertebrates, insects etc.) evolved, mainly by happenstance in a wildly changeable environment[i]. Out of the known twenty or so, only five phyla were successful[ii]; the others either were sidelined, or died out. Once the body plans were in place, families and species branched out under them in no detectable order – the outcome of Darwinian selection. Creativity is the triumph of the contingent over the essential, and reality is made of clumps of congealed contingency.

Machiavelli was right. There is no immanent order in international relations; agreements are just agglutinations of political will whose only claim is that they exist, to be discarded when they are no longer useful. And fast-forwarding to the present, the ‘end of history’ is not so much that democracy has fulfilled history’s immanent plan or is in some way inherently superior: it is the ‘policy-plan’ that happens to have survived (remember Zho Enlai on democracy: too early to tell[iii]). The same goes for international relations: the current world architecture is neither pre-ordained nor immutable because in any way superior. We need not be squeamish about tinkering with it. Let’s face it: principles, values, and structures are just higher-order contingencies.

(3) As for the practice of diplomacy: finding an optimal or at least a workable path amidst the wealth of possibilities calls for working at two levels at once: the detail close up, miniature-like, and the whole, at a distance. As the artist steps back to view the detail within the structure of the whole, the diplomat must from time to time step back from his work and ask himself: Where is the negotiation going? The best diplomats are those that are able to take a ‘walk in the wood’, but also those who know when to walk away from a negotiation. An ability to ‘walk through the looking glass’ is in my view the diplomat’s foremost quality. In this light Molotov was no great diplomat.

(4) No sooner had Adam been created, that was asked to name all animals. For those illiterate of the Bible there is its comic-strip version: “Me Tarzan. You Jane” utters the innocent forest dweller as he encounters the fascinating strange. At its most essential, the name – the way we look at a reality – defines the issue. Among the many possible names, one is chosen. The first and often the most important as well as most creative diplomatic task is that of ‘naming’ of the diplomatic challenge ahead, for common ground implies a common point of view. Whether Israel is a ‘homeland’ or a ‘neo-colonialist enterprise’ defines everything else. Diplomats should (and will) fight over the narrative line to be used in explaining to themselves and others what they are doing – and again this is a task without precedent, the first human creative act. Soft power[iv] is all about the ability to ‘name’.

Naming can be a matter of sheer power – as the Iraq case makes clear. Naming may be the result of skilful manipulation of ignorance[v].

Naming can emerge as if by chance, or by ‘scientific analysis’[vi]. A ‘name’ can be useful, or distortive for the ensuing negotiations.

(5) If creating rules where there are none is a contingent and creative task, then the diplomat need also be an accomplished opportunist – ‘Anything goes’ his only rule where the are no rules. A diplomat needs to see opportunities where others see barriers and movement where others see stasis. The current emphasis on proper procedures and the priority of precedent suppresses the creative spirit one would expect in a diplomat. So is transforming the diplomat into the servile agent of the political principal; we are sure to create sedulous yet ineffective busy-bodies.

*

Life is a field of unending possibilities that over time collapses into a host of diverging and whimsical realities. If we were to set the clock back to one billion year ago, and let life run again, we would not see our familiar ‘life’ emerge anew. Human history is no different, nor will it be, as long as we have true diplomats.

This is a provocative question for a Foundation that aims to teach diplomatic skills. Yet it is a question that crossed my mind as I was preparing a series of teaching modules on Climate Change Diplomacy.

We teach administration of diplomacy – the humdrum tasks of setting up a diplomatic post, getting organised, ensuring accountability and administrative processes and reporting, networking both at home and abroad. Rights and obligations, as under the Vienna Convention, are analysed, practices and customs explained.

We teach the ins and outs multilateral processes – how multilateral diplomacy organises itself at a conference, or how it interacts with international organisations. The proper diplomatic etiquette and the formal and informal rules of procedure are outlined. Specialities are highlighted – as appropriate.

We teach diplomatic structures – the multifarious plenitude of international organisations, their links and respective responsibilities, or the institutional rules under which they operate.

We teach the outcomes of diplomatic work – the treaties, agreements, understandings, the rights and obligations hereunder, and how they are administered, or made to evolve along the trajectory set out in the basic instruments.

We teach the language and the jargon, so as better to understand the deeper meaning of the counterpart’s words. While diplomacy of yore aimed to communicate to insiders, now multiple stake-holders and audiences are addressed – public diplomacy has emerged.

In a post-modern world of complex networks and means of communication we teach efficient sourcing, organisation of information as well as its distribution.

The darker underside of diplomacy shall be mentioned passim – from spying to corruption, profiling of counterparts, or manipulating of people, press, and public opinion – for this important component on diplomatic practice is not acknowledged in academia.

But do we really teach diplomacy?

Are we able to explain to young diplomats why some negotiations succeed and other fail? Some fail for contingent reasons – wrong tactics. Are we providing them with enough ‘lessons learned’? Others fail because conflicts in values that underlie a negotiation have remained undetected and unresolved. Failure is due to lack of ‘common ground’ where compromises may be struck. The failure is then strategic. Are we able to teach diplomatic strategy?

The case of Climate Change Diplomacy might illustrate my point. Two contingent elements have driven the onset of the negotiation:

The success story of the CFC Convention in mitigating output of these gases. The negotiation was (as such things go) straight-forward, and the outcome (so it appears today) satisfactory. Implicitly this model was chosen as a viable precursor for scaling up to the more complex issue of mitigation of Greenhouse Gases (GHG).
Faced with a ‘global problem’ the ‘logical’ or technological approach seemed to be one of aiming for a ‘global’ mitigation solution – in order to avoid the ‘tragedy of the commons’ (as described by G. Hardin[1]).
The current state of Climate Change Negotiations does not bode well for its future.

At the tactical level the ‘scaling up’ is foundering because it intertwines inextricably past and present in an acrimonious finger pointing exercise over GHG emissions – what are the lessons learned?

At the strategic level it focuses on just one – a collective – solution, ignoring or underestimating other, albeit less perfect but possibly more practical, approaches as well as adaptation. The economist R. H. Coase[2], however, had long made the case that all possible alternative approaches should be assessed pragmatically.

Garrett HARDIN, in his famous ‘The tragedy of the commons’ argued – frpom theory – for strict and compulsory birth control policies, claiming that mankind would not possibly stabilise its population unless forced to do so through mutual coercion. Forty years later it looks as if he is being proven wrong. An inchoate mix of pro-active policies (China) as well as wealth and education effects is taking us there – belatedly I’ll admit, imperfectly and haphazardly. We did not develop a ‘coherent and comprehensive set of policies’, as experts would have insisted on. ‘Good enough’ policies emerged, disjoined, incoherent, and absurd in part, though in the end cumulatively effective. Had we all heeded Hardin’s suggestion and sat down in ’68 to repeal the UN Charter of Human Rights passage on family planning – and gone for a world-wide treaty on mutual coercion… where would be now?

More fundamental, however, is the issue underlying Hardin’s text. He argues, from the outset that, for certain problems: “…to look for solutions in the area of science and technology only, the result will be to worsen the situation.” The underlying issue (what he describes as the ‘tragedy of the commons’) is one of situational ethics. Though one may argue – at the limit – that all ethic is situational (we’d condone the killing of a tyrant, don’t we?), some behaviour is not bad per se, only when everyone does it – like pollution. While we know how to deal with non-situational ethics (“Though shalt not kill” possibly being a good example), it is difficult to achieve a consensus in other cases, when in addition the novel situations creep on us surreptitiously.

An added problem is sensationalism in press and public. Even if we were to fulfill all of the Millennium Goals by 2015, humanity would have witnessed 250 million deaths from poverty-related causes[3]. We seem to be forgetting these goals as we focus political and entrepreneurial attention on climate change that may or may not displace as many million people over the whole century. True, climate change will exacerbate poverty problems, but given a choice, a direct approach might be far more effective than a circuitous approach through GHG mitigation.

*

At its best diplomacy is all about discovering/creating ‘degrees of freedom’ in inter-state relations: turning obstacles into solutions by destroying preconceptions and pre-ordained conceptual frameworks – the egg of Columbus comes to mind. The rest is mechanics.

So my questions would be:

How do we teach diplomats to recognise, and possibly favour, ‘good enough’ policies rather than aiming single-mindedly for a ‘theoretical’ and unachievable best?
How do we teach diplomats to recognise, understand, and name core issues in a negotiation, rather than remain mired in process?
How do we teach diplomats to have a sense of proportion, and priorities?
For the current approach in education is to ‘think locally’ – to provide quick and ready technical fixes (down to the mini-course via internet), and let the ‘invisible diplomatic hand’ take care of the rest. This approach is certainly useful in many practical and humdrum situations. At the cutting edge of ‘big issues’, however, it is bound to fail – at least in the relevant short run. The balancing of benefits and costs of globalisation would be such a big issue; another is the uneasy compromise between cultures in an ever integrating world; and certainly the biological future of our planet.

In a world that praises the quick fix, the sound bite, and the successful spin, deep and wide understanding is needed to solve the issues on which our long term survival depends. How are we to teach this to our diplomats?

——————————————————————————–

[1] Garrett HARDIN (1968): The Tragedy of the Commons. Science, 162:1243-1248
[2] Ronald H. COASE (1960): The problem of social cost. Journal of Law and Economics 3: 1-44.
[3] Thomas POGGE (2008) : Growth and inequality : understanding recent trends and political choices. Dissent.

Some of the best managed entities in the business world – transnational financial institutions – have been caught wrong footed. Past dealing with the immediate consequences of their errors, banks are changing their structures better to meet the challenges ahead.

A first structural lesson that seems to be emerging is a clearer articulation of the functions of the Board. Strategy, risk assessment, and management supervision are now identified as separate functions. To facilitate the fulfilment of these tasks, dedicated working groups are created. Far from being an added layer of control, this new structure indicates the recognition that the total is more than the sum of its parts and that a holistic approach is needed.

A second lesson is spreading power within management. Oligarchies tend replace hegemonic structures. Checks and balances will replace power struggles and cumulation of tasks will become less frequent.

A third lesson is likely to be stronger focus on outcomes and longer term results. Quality will find its place side by side quantitative objectives and results.

Are there lessons to be drawn for MFA?

Modern MFA structures tend to follow the ‘principal-agent’ model. The Minister (or Cabinet) is the Paramount Principal, and the MFA is a set of hierarchically structured agents that fulfil the Principal’s orders. At each hierarchical level the same ‘principal-agent’ subordinate relationship applies.  Feedback and information percolates up the same structures.

This schematic view highlights several systemic flaws:

(1)               Distortion of signals in transmission. Just as the ‘principal’s’ order may be distorted on the way down to execution, so does the information and feedback. Contrary to private firms, where the market provides unassailable feedback to management through the balance sheet, no such channels exist in the public sector.

(2)               Vertical power structures. The separation of power between the ‘principal’ and ‘agent(s)’, which is clearest at the interface between the political and the administrative realms, tends to repeat itself within the administration. The space for internal validation, i.e. check and balances, remains limited.

(3)               Lack of the global and long term view. In a world where in any case political survival is the overarching goal of the Principal, no structures provide counter-balance. Parliamentary scrutiny is inherently partisan, and even in Cabinet trade-offs among ministries replace independence of views on the topic under discussion.

Whether the current vertical power structures suit policy objectives as well as the personal ambitions of politicians is a matter for never ending debate. A return to the role of political power as an intermediary between a robust administration whose task is to prepare policy and the rough and tumble of partisan politics is worth some renewed consideration.

Meanwhile, some thought might be given to strengthening the global and longer term perspective, which would include both strategy and risk. These issues should be part of the regular agenda, possibly in form of permanent Working Groups of the MFA managerial structure. Some thought may also be given to the possibility of enlarging the Board with outside (and politically independent) directors, whose task would also be to help offset distortions in transmission by providing unfiltered views and know-how.

Yesterday, the Tribune de Geneve published on its cover page the news that 85% of university students in the United States are involved in plagiarism. (One should praise the US for facing and making this problem public. One can imagine what the situation is in European universities with mega-classes of 300-500 students writing papers in non-English languages!) The article may give rise to numerous responses. One is that something must be wrong with society if 85% of the future elite is breaching not only legal but also basic ethical rules. But another response is to ask if 85% percent can be wrong. Is something wrong with them or with the anti-plagiarism rule or with the broader system? Let us start with the anti-plagiarism rule. It is still valid. It involves also the basic decency to mention the source of one’s ideas.

If 85% cannot be wrong and if the rule is right, what is wrong? The educational system? The system should make ethical behaviour both rational and pragmatic. But this is not the case in modern universities. Students are often asked to write long essays under pressure. Academic calendars are increasingly demanding. Faced with this pressure, many students opt for the rational solution which is “copy and paste” from the Internet. Can students be punished for being rational and pragmatic? At least rationality and pragmatism are one of the cherished values in modern society. The article in the Tribune de Geneve discusses how to deal with the effects of the plagiarism: How to identify it? How to punish students? There are only a few lines hinting that something is wrong with the current educational system.

Does the educational system need a major change? I think so. The current situation is not sustainable either for society or individuals. It nurtures collective hypocrisy. Tacitly, everybody involved in the process is aware of the plagiarism, but nobody wants to “rock the boat.” Everybody has his or her own rational approach (making the situation more difficult). Society requires numbers from the university (more students, more degrees, etc.). Most academic staff, pressed by “publish or perish,” see teaching and interaction with students as a secondary activity (research is primary). Teaching is very often delegated to assistants and tutors. Academic staff does not have an interest in rocking the boat. Students are rational as well. Ultimately, society expects from them the piece of paper and qualifications. It is what increasingly matters in a highly formalised society.

The situation is not sustainable. Probably today, in a time of pressure of numbers and hyper-production, there is more need than ever before to have the university a place for “thinking out of the box.”

So far the focus in discussion is on identifying better anti-plagiarism software (not on addressing broader and deeper issues). Like terrorism, poverty and other problems of modern society, we mix causes and effects and we do not see the forest for the three. 85% cannot be wrong!

Link to the article in the Tribune de Geneve

Geneva, 9th of November 2007

Since we started “DeepDip” I was thinking about my first input. I even started drafting my “first blog” (it will come later on). But as usual events take direction of itsown. Last few days I have been writing the preface for Stefano Baldi’s and Pasquale Baldocci’s book “Through the Diplomatic Looking Glass”. The book will be presented on 30^th of November 2007 in Geneva (http://www.diplomacy.edu/gdbc/). Their book triggered a few reflections on the position of diplomacy and diplomats in modern society. It is a bit longer than usual blog. Waiting for your comments!

PREFACE

“Through the Diplomatic Looking Glass” by Stefano Baldi and Pasquale Baldocci

A book, like a human being, has its destiny. This new volume by Stefano Baldi and Pasquale Baldocci is no exception. Even before this English translation appeared, the original Italian version was in its second edition, with high visibility. The authors’ immediate aim was to preserve the memory of Italian diplomacy, expressed in some 750 books written by Italian diplomats. The book has already achieved much more. It has initiated discussion and has started the development of a “knowledge community,” as it is called in modern business parlance. Some have suggested books to add to the list, others have reflected on existing ones, while others have proposed ideas for future publications. With such impressive achievements, the book’s success continues.

It may have another important mission. The book may contribute to addressing one of the paradoxes of our time: on the one hand, the increasingly high relevance of diplomacy for modern society and, on the other hand, the “image deficit” of diplomacy and diplomats in modern society. For some time, diplomacy has been perceived only as a peaceful and ethical option to the use of force in international relations, presenting an alternative to war. Today, however, diplomacy is not a matter of ethical choice. Diplomacy is a necessity. Complex global problems such as climate change, global trade, and migration, to name only a few, can be managed only by diplomatic methods. The difficulty of the recent Iraq war is an example of the limit of the use of force and of the necessity for diplomacy as a tool in solving international conflicts.

At the same time, the perception of diplomacy is mixed and sometimes confusing. As Ivo Andric, a Yugoslav diplomat who won the Nobel Prize for literature, observed, diplomacy has “external, brilliant facets which both attract and deceive people.” In many circles, diplomacy is perceived with a mixture of envy – for the so-called diplomatic style of life – and with criticism of its failures and appreciation of its importance. Historically, diplomacy and diplomats were often used by statesmen and generals as “official” scapegoats for national failures. This has not helped the image of diplomacy in many countries.

Even everyday language, usually one of the best indicators of the collective subconscious, associates diplomacy with evasiveness, non-commitment and, in some cases, lying. Sir Watson’s misunderstood statement that “an ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his country” can be found on plastic plates in souvenir shops worldwide. Anyone who has spent one day in diplomacy knows that lying is not allowed, even though sometimes the whole truth is not always stated for tactical reasons. As a matter of fact, in modern diplomatic meetings, exchange is rarely “diplomatic;” they are increasingly open, business-like, and to the point.

On a deeper level of analysis, the public suspicion of diplomacy could be related to diplomacy’s core tool – compromise. Compromise is not considered an ethically superior practice in many societies, especially when contrasted with national pride and stubborn heroism. An illustration of the low public acceptance of diplomacy and compromise is the fact that one cannot find museums dedicated to diplomacy, while thousands of museums celebrate war victories and military history.

Nonetheless, some trends towards better public perception of diplomacy are noticeable. The number of books, PhD theses, and conferences dedicated to diplomacy grows. As well, courses on diplomacy can be found in the curricula of universities worldwide. More than ever before, arguments for diplomacy appear in articles of the leading global press agencies.

Yet, much more needs to be done to improve the image of diplomacy. This book is an important attempt in this direction. It underscores the contributions of diplomats to our global cultural heritage. The book also shows that diplomacy is more than a profession. It is very often a life, one dedicated to building understanding among cultures, and which does not end at the end of the working day. For these diplomats, the dividing line between professional life and private life hardly exists. The book addresses the issue of why diplomats write and what is specific about diplomats as writers.

The authors claim that “diplomats are born with pen in hand.” Diplomacy is probably the best proof of the Latin saying verba volant scripta manent. Yes, diplomacy happens in corridors and at dinners, but ultimately diplomatic deals have to be materialized into paper, even if it is non-paper. Diplomats are those who have to formulate such deals in writing. Their primary tool is written language.

Simplified criticism may suggest that diplomats focus too much on texts. Even if the huge volume of diplomatic documents could be reduced, the relevance of the text has to remain. Every day, at hundreds of diplomatic meetings and negotiations, diplomats try to overcome differences and conflicts by working on acceptable textual agreements. Sometimes, the texts of those agreements are vague and even evasive when they represent the least common denominator. In other cases, diplomats have to use constructive ambiguities to bridge differences that are irreconcilable. Creating a bridge between complex reality and its representation in one text makes diplomats masters of language and text – and well prepared for writing.

Another reason why diplomats are destined for writing is their position as “stranger.” Clearly, each diplomat is a stranger in the country where he or she serves. With the passage of time, the diplomat also becomes a stranger to his or her home country. As well, as Andric observes, many diplomats become strangers to themselves by “living constantly on two levels, the personal, human one and the official, inhuman one, but never in any way showing or betraying to anyone on which level you are at any given moment, or better still: not yourself being completely aware of it, which is the surest way of not betraying yourself.”

Their estrangement makes diplomats good observers. As the sociologist, George Simmel, puts it in his essay, “The Stranger,” what highlights the position of a stranger is the degree of nearness and remoteness to others. A diplomat is near enough to understand the society in which he or she lives, but is remote enough to think “out of the box.” Diplomats can see through the layers of social convention and understand the implicit assumptions on which a society is based. They can see both the country where they are posted and their home countries with little prejudice. Sometimes they become challengers of accepted truths and initiators of new interpretations of social reality.

Born “with pen in hand” and living as strangers make diplomats pre-destined for writing. It is not surprising that among diplomats we find at least five Nobel Prize winners for literature. And it is not surprising that Stefano Baldi and Pasquale Baldocci have managed to gather such a wide collection of books. This book is the first in a series “Diplomats as Writers”. The next to appear will focus on Swiss diplomacy. The series should contribute to better public understanding of diplomacy, both with a small “d” – as a method for solving conflicts through the use of compromise and conciliation – and with a capital “D” – as a system for managing modern international relations.

Jovan Kurbalija

Geneva, 20th November 2007

Aldo Matteucci

In the Westphalian paradigm states are sovereign in their national policies. In toady’s world deliberative democracy legitimises the laws and policies of the state. International convergence of national laws and policies is obtained through multilateral agreements based on consensus. Their legitimacy relies on national ratification. State laws and regulations are the outcome, and state bureaucracies oversee implementation.

This paradigm is being rapidly eroded. Voluntary and voluntaristic INGOs[1] – akas as ‘civil society’ – spontaneously create voluntary standards and norms in this or that domain of public policy like working conditions, environment, or human and animal rights. Though not legally binding, threat of embarrassment tends to ensure compliance, both at home and abroad – in today’s transparent world reputation strongly affects market sales, and exposure may affect personal and political lives. Once the standard is established, private bureaucracies may emerge to verify and certify conformity to such standards and norms.

This new paradigm may nullify or supplant the old one, imperilling decades of laborious international negotiations futile:

1. While the Swiss government prudently liberalises its agricultural policies Swiss major retailers are nullifying these efforts: their up-market labels like ‘bio’ and ‘regional products’ bring trusted local producers significant mark-ups and enhanced market-shares. Consumer preference (or prejudice if one prefers), rather than trade barriers, will hamper foreign competitors in the future.
2. Private initiative, on the other hand, may penetrate into realms where governments fear to tread. Governments had agreed to side-line the topic of ‘trade and social standards’ in the Doha Round. The Social Accountability SA 8000 standard, developed by the Business Social Compliance Initiative in Brussels[2] and Social Accountability International in New York[3] may be harbinger of voluntary international standards to come in the area of social and labour relations. These initiatives orient themselves on the deliberations of international organisations like the ILO and as such have credibility.

Such voluntary standards are emerging in other areas – from corporate governance to public health, to foreign aid. There is an underlying common pattern to their emergence[4]. An abuse is uncovered and is widely and emotionally discussed in the public arena. Exemplary standards are established. The threat of terminal boycott or reprobation by an aroused population ensures compliance: voluntary standards know no borders and ignore sovereignty. Compliance with existing laws and regulations is no bar to the impact of farther-reaching standards.

The exemplary effect leads to spillovers into related domains as firms and individuals race to pre-empt adverse publicity. Whoever can manipulate public opinion can wield extraordinary power. Size and notoriety – strength in the market or in the public domain – is a weakness here, as Walmart or Matel can attest.

Voluntary standards are fundamentally different from regulations. Here some tentative and necessarily incomplete considerations as to their strengths and weaknesses – in any case it is not my intent to be a judge (even less a hanging judge) on their value, which can only be determined in a specific context:

1. Voluntary standards tend to be tentative (at least at the outset), hence flexible and adaptable – in many cases they are no more than ‘work in progress’ and evolutionary in character;
2. Voluntary standards tend to be ad hoc responses to broadly perceived abuses. They may lack consistency, coherence across like issues, and may be hit and miss;
3. Competition between emerging alternative voluntary standards may eventually allow for  more informed rule-making – or radicalisation;
4. The staying power of voluntary standards has not yet been tested. Like some market products in a competitive environment, they may even evolve toward competitive excess, or degenerate spontaneously into irrelevance. On the other hand they may be eventually absorbed by the (inter)governmental regulatory process;
5. Conversely, no mechanism so far has been designed to weed out defective voluntary standards – they tend to fade as rapidly as they emerge, either superseded by the next flavour of the month, or by a better competitor;
6. Success relies on the threat of embarrassment – rather than the harsh but modulated and calibrated weight of the law. We hardly know how to attune suave persuasion – which may lead to excesses and failures[5]. Manias, panics, but also ‘crashes’ may ensue in the pursuit of moral fashion.
7. Voluntary standards may help overcome the tendency of the democratic process toward stagnation, as opposing and vested interests effectively grind the process to  a stalemate;
8. Voluntary standards are often perceived as mere conventions, i.e. lacking the broadly agreed ethical and principle dimension that makes legal instruments so difficult to design or reform;
9. Voluntary standards lack broad based legitimacy. The standards have not gone through a deliberative democratic process, but are the product of more or less informed good intentions of small elites. Though nominally democratic, the INGOs that develop such standards face little accountability as its membership is not internally organised;
10. Voluntary standards blur responsibilities between government, civil society, and citizen, and in the end may weaken accountability;
11. If compliance verification is established, it tends to lack transparency as the relationship between the regulator and the regulated is ad hoc and may easily become incestuous;
12. The costs of compliance, verification and traceability can be horrendous and out of proportion to the outcome – yet not subject to public scrutiny. In particular, the associated voluntary bureaucracies may be far less efficient or effective than their public counterparts they are meant to supersede.

At the end of the day the strength of voluntary standards should be their ability to overcome democratic stagnation through a tentative and iterative process of trial and error and possibly competition. They remain more or less educated or opinionated guesses that address an issue rapidly – yet may be discarded more easily than laws and regulations.

The strength of deliberative democracy is its reliance on the ‘wisdom of the crowds’. The price of voluntary standards is lack of democratic legitimacy – elitism by a minority that is able to impose the standard. Elitism coupled with hype and emotional positions tends toward manias and panics[6]. On such basis voluntary standards may range from the inspired to the grossly and frustratingly unfair or downright disgraceful.

Why have voluntary standards become so fashionable? The pessimists might argue that as the world becomes more complex deliberative democracy fails, for it demands too much involvement by the citizenry – being a citizen in classical Athens already was a full-time job. The optimists might argue that voluntary standards are inspired ‘shots in the dark’ – an appropriate solution when no amount of aggregated wisdom will resolve the unknowable. Whatever – voluntary standards are a rapidly emerging reality that might effectively nullify much of traditional governmental and inter-governmental rule-making.

*

New paradigms do not simply replace old ones – for long periods both may live side by side, as their respective social value is tested. Hybrid situations may develop and persist where neither prevails. Diplomats are agents of the old sovereignty-centred paradigm. They’ll have to live with the fact that initiatives of civil society may rank equal with their efforts and void their carefully laid plans. For they have lost both the monopoly of forum and initiative – state-to-state negotiations may be just one of the many arenas where actions take place.

Diplomatic negotiations, like wars nowadays, are no longer set pieces and orderly or even brilliant manoeuvres – they have become liquid. Diplomats no longer rule the field, supported by coordinated hordes of auxiliaries or scouts. As a result, principle positions and objective analysis, or elaborate tactics may be easily swept away by emotions or circumvented by ‘non-combatants’. Complex negotiations with many topics and inter-linked agendas (e.g. the Doha Round) may be difficult to control and manage successfully.

In the interest of a desirable material outcome the diplomat might need to abandon hierarchical ambitions and set structures and mongrelise (not that a diplomat was ever a pure breed). The recent photo of an out-of-focus Tony Blair looking on nonplussed as Bono carries on in the foreground about development aid to Africa captures this new reality.

Adjustment to this reality is no mean feat. Loss of certain status and pre-eminence is often difficult to accept. Moving from a hierarchical negotiating to a dispersed (and even chaotic) structure demands a innovative mindset. The style also needs nimble adaptableness, for what is essential in one arena – uncompromising clarity and conviction – can become an obstacle in the other arena, where compromises must be struck[7]. Principle and opportunism must find an uneasy balance. Knowledge will remain of the essence, but (like in bunraku) even more in the background.

Such is (the new diplomatic) life.

[4]           Only the competitive case is discussed here. Of course, complementarity may also occur, but it does not lead to policy issues.

[5]           The Paoacy in the XIII^th century tried a harsher version on moral suasion to obtain ascendancy. The scope of its ambition ruined the attempt, but also highlights the ephemeral character of moral suasion.

[6]           For a discussion of the overall topic on ‘democratic’ vs. ‘elitist’ decision-making, see James SUROWIECKI (2005): The wisdom of the crowds. Why the many are smarter than the few and how collective wisdom shapes business, economies, societies, and nations. Little Brown, New York; 295 pp.

[7]           For a spirited discussion of the difficulties involved see Harry G. FRANKFURT (2005): On bullshit. Princeton University Press, New Haven; 67 pp.

Many diplomats have used poetry in their diplomatic work: wrapping words in silk is the diplomat’s job. A diplomat may turn a lie into a ‘constructive ambiguity’ – which is a way of defining poetry. Some poets have been diplomats – Neruda, Claudel, St. John Perse. It’s an occupational hazard: the stimulating place, the sheltered existence – and the ability to paraphrase the unknowable. Few diplomats will admit to using poetry as a survival strategy.

Diplomats are like sentinels at an outpost scrutinising the desert beyond. Expecting the barbarians never to appear over the hazy horizon, they sceptically await the inevitable improbable. Meanwhile, drill replaces skill. From dawn till dusk and deep into the night beyond, on the parade grounds, they are made to practice coherence and coordination as if their career depended on it. In an attempt to strengthen morale and impart character, chanting of ‘public diplomacy’ mantras has been taken up. Numbing menial jobs – arranging ministerial junkets, tripping bleary-eyed through dilapidated factories – replace detention.

Diplomats are like watchmakers: their art is hidden inside a bland, if polished, case. Only a couple of hands, forever going round and round to no apparent purpose, betray the existence of an intelligent design. The best designer is the one who leaves no signature – just invariant perfection. Creating a masterpiece, however, is a rare opportunity.

In daily diplomatic routine one is to judge the quality of a negotiated text not by its content, but by its discards. At the end of the day, under a diplomat’s table one may find crumpled amendments, execrable points of order, and many a plain word. The box of useless qualifiers, the well of slimy compromises, lie about empty.

To survive, a diplomat needs poetry. Filed amidst the many layers of the brief, the short poem will refresh the bleary mind. Poetry brings distance – hence perspective and insight. Poetry reminds the diplomat that the best professional is the amateur.

Most deeply – poetry is truth.