Category: Politics

All posts on what Bismarck called “the art of the possible”

Conciousness raising through free DVDs

There is a website that will supposedly send you a free DVD copy of Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth. Some statistics are up, on how many tickets and discs they have given away. I have placed a request, and I will let you know if it actually works. They seem to be overwhelmed with thousands of requests at the moment, so that seems pretty unlikely.

If they do send me one, I will make sure to screen it publicly at least once. The case Gore makes is rigorous and compelling; this is also an interesting demonstration of how science, politics, and advocacy run together. I wrote about the film earlier.

Logic and ethics

Without warning, my failed states paper has grown to include Venn diagrams and predicate logic. This is what happens when you realize that one sentence could be expressed more comprehensibly through the use of a few symbols, then allow yourself to run with it. The paper (previously mentioned here and here) now includes branched formulations such as:

(h) Any state within the international system has the:

  1. obligation
  2. option

to intervene in a failed state, so as to:

  1. help it return to a non-failed status
  2. protect the human rights of those within it
  3. cause the cessation of large scale violations of human rights, ie. genocide

Of course, the whole point is to prove that you cannot reduce normative considerations in international relations to such crude formulas. Logic is not a substitute for judgment, in the consideration of how to act in response to weak or criminal states. Also, any consideration of how to act morally in the international arena will involve the examination of multiple justifications and counter-justifications, weighing the importance of certain moral claims against alternatives. Logic doesn’t really help us with that.

It does, however, help with the writing of a paper that is at least likely to stand out from the rest of those submitted on the topic. I knew that symbolic logic course I took at UBC would be useful for more than just the Law School Admission Test.

Anfal charges dropped for Saddam Hussein

Compounding the error of hanging him, the Iraqi High Tribunal has chosen to drop all charges against Saddam Hussein in the ongoing trial about the Anfal campaign. He was convicted earlier for the killing of 148 civilians in Dujail, but the campaign against the Kurds in Anfal between 1986 and 1989 killed more than 100,000 people and involved the use of chemical weapons including Sarin.

The brutality and illegality of this campaign has been used by many to bolster the assertion that Saddam Hussein was a tyrant and a criminal, and that the American-led invasion and occupation have been justified. It has also been used by those critical of the United States, particularly because some of the weapons used were almost certainly provided to Iraq by the United States and other western or NATO powers, either during or before the Iran-Iraq War (1980-88). In March of 1986, the President of the United Nations Security Council issued the following statement:

[P]rofoundly concerned by the unanimous conclusion of the specialists that chemical weapons on many occasions have been used by Iraqi forces against Iranian troops… the members of the Council strongly condemn this continued use of chemical weapons in clear violation of the Geneva Protocol of 1925 which prohibits the use in war of chemical weapons.

(S/17911 and Add. 1, 21 March 1986)

The United States voted against the issuance of the statements, while the UK, Australia, France and Denmark abstained.

Those who hoped that there would at least be a proper investigation and documentation of the crimes committed under his regime will be disappointed. Likewise, those who hoped that further precedents about the use of chemical weapons by heads of state might be established in international law. The progression in Iraq seems less and less like one towards a democratic state governed by the rule of law.

Thesis literature review

Fallen tree in flooded Port Meadow

The first substantive chapter of my thesis is meant to be a review of the relevant literature. Actually, it would be more correct to say ‘relevant literatures’ since so many different ones touch upon the subject matter. While climate science, ecology, and biochemistry are all relevant to Kyoto and Stockholm, they are not directly relevant to the thesis. The point is to examine the roles played by expertise in policy formulation, not engage directly with the scientific issues at hand. As such, the primary sources of interest are not studies of global warming of POPs, in their own right, but the discussions that took place within the scientific and policy community about what is going on (to be analyzed in Chapter 3: Information and consensus issues) and then about what should be done about it ( Chapter 4: Normative and distributional issues).

Having a look at the conversations that took place within the scientific community about taking a political stake against nuclear testing might be one way of gaining insight into how scientists deliberate about political matters, and how the legitimate role of scientists and the scientific community is seen. Likewise, the whole debate that arose about Bjorn Lomborg’s controversial book. While the public perspective on these debates is largely outside the scope of the thesis, it might be worth touching upon the relationships between public, expert, and political opinion in the chapter on consensus and information issues.

The relevant secondary literatures are various. They obviously include political and international relations theory, especially as they concern questions about prudent decisionmaking, the welfare of future generations, and other normative concerns. (On the normative side, Henry Shue’s work is both highly topical and likely to be considered essential reading by his colleagues here). In general, I am a lot more interested in the core issues of political theory (legitimacy, justice, etc) than in those of international relations theory, though some discussion of the nature of cooperation between states and the formation of international regimes is required. To some extent, international law is relevant, insofar as it helps to define how science relates to the policy process and the practice of states. Elizabeth Fisher’s work on public administration has made me think that the Rationalist-Interventionist and Deliberative-Constitutive frameworks she describes can be applied to international environmental negotiations. It is also fairly clear that some understanding and discussion of the philosophy of science is necessary to prevent the thesis from being overly naive in that regard.

Histories and analyses of the meetings and agreements leading up to the Stockholm Convention and Kyoto Protocol are likewise important secondary sources. Rather than repeat lengthy summaries of what happened in the limited space that I have, I can further summarize it and refer the interested back to more comprehensive accounts. Similarly, other secondary discussions about the nature, causes, and implications of the two agreements should be mentioned.

The last section I mean to include in the literature review is a listing of recent theses, primarily at Oxford, that have addressed similar issues. While it is probably better to engage with more widely known scholars than debate the arguments of these theses directly, there will probably be a bit of the latter in the final version as well. In particular, it might be a good way of making reference to other potentially relevant case studies. Also, since these works have often led me to useful sources, it seems only courteous to give a nod to their authors. Also, they may appreciate knowing that at least one person has dug up the document they spent so much time and energy completing.

If people can think of any other literatures I need to address – or can think of any really stellar sources within the disciplines enumerated above – please leave a comment.

Long walks, moral complexity, pirates

Angor Wat grafitti

Today involved some good reading, four more iced shots of espresso, two important meetings, and a long and social walk with Margaret. In the manner of debt collectors everywhere, I have learned that you can get a long way with people who are not being responsive to emails by simply showing up at their doorstep. In half an hour, you can get further than two weeks worth of messages would ever take you.

I have decided, for my paper on ‘failed states,’ to argue that the term is more trouble than it is worth. It conflates a number of different circumstances in which states might find themselves in ways that make it a hopeless muddle, both from a theoretical and an empirical point of view. This should make the paper much more interesting to write; there is great pleasure to be taken in choosing an argument and defending it. The only trouble, it seems, is that the more education you go through, the less thoroughly you can believe that anything you are saying is really true.

That is one reason for which it is so satisfying to write about gay marriage or Guantanamo Bay. These are circumstances where I can stand four-square behind a moral position.

PS. One piece of truly essential thesis reading did get fished today: the copy of The Pirates! in an Adventure with Scientists that Josiah lent me last night. Gideon Defoe has made a valuable contribution to the study of pirate-scientist dynamics. One particularly useful fact for someone leaving academia: Charles Darwin was working as an unpaid naturalist on the Beagle. It seems that it really is possible to learn a great deal from such work.

Human security

Keble College

This evening, I have been thinking about ‘human security.’ This is the idea – very hot right now in international policy circles – that the object of security should be the individual, rather than states (which are arbitrary) or governments (which can be selfish or non-representative). “Protect the Human,” as the Amnesty International campaign asserts. Given the atrocities committed against individuals in the quest to assert higher ideals, a moral system based around preventing such abuses has intuitive appeal.

What I am wondering about is the basis upon which the claim can be made that human security is the important sort. There is the possibility that the realities of human life make human security a valid perspective in a deep way that transcends trends in thinking and the present character of the international system. At the other extreme is the idea that this is just a concept cooked up in some reports and boardrooms that is being applied universally by those groups who have accepted it, despite it not having any fundamental validity. The third and most sensible possibility is that the idea of human security has emerged as the product of a lengthy deliberation among states.

That said, the state consensus view has problems of its own. In particular, the manner in which transgressors are dealt with becomes important. When African states and regional organizations fail to condemn Zimbabwe and Sudan for egregious violations of human rights, are they doing so because the think continued integration is the best way to forward a human security ideal they have already internalized (this would be akin to the supposed ‘sunshine policy’ of South Korea in dealing with the North), or do they remain wary of outside impositions, having been at the sharp end of too many in the past?

The present American administration has, in some ways, made this whole debate more difficult. On the one hand, they assert certain moral values as though they have absolute validity: democracy is good, tyranny is evil. At the same time, they are willing to compromise on fundamental moral questions, ostensibly to serve higher ends. Guantanamo Bay is one embodiment of this attitude. To champion both moral absolutes and a huge level of moral flexibility is enormously problematic. Taking a universal stance and then acting in a way that seems hypocritical leads people to question whether there are moral truths with a strong claim to validity. It also profoundly diminishes the ability to that particular moral actor to act as a model to others, or exert moral pressure. Arguably, situations like the inaction of the international community tars all other states that champion a human security agenda with a similar brush.

One of the more stirring things Michael Ignatieff ever wrote relates to just this issue of universal assertions and hypocritical failures to act:

The liberal virtues – tolerance, compromise, reason – remain as valuable as ever, but they cannot be preached by those who are mad with fear or mad with vengeance. In any case, preaching always rings hollow. We must be prepared to defend them by force, and the failures of the sated, cosmopolitan nations to do so has left the hungry nations sick with contempt for us.

That possibility – that the states of the developing world reject ‘human security’ and similar concepts because of the manifest lack of commitment from the developing world – is another potential solution to the puzzle of the status of such concepts in the world today.

Defining state failure

Empty garden

From writing about foreign aid, I have moved on to failed states. I am meant to discuss who defines states as ‘failed’ and what consequences it has for sovereignty. It seems to me that there are three general ways in which a state can be considered to have failed:

  1. States can lose their integrity, as viewed from the security perspective by outsiders.
  2. Alternatively, they can fail to maintain other characteristics that are considered essential in a modern state, such as a monopoly on the legitimate use of force.
  3. Finally, they can fall below some moral threshold, below which their government or leadership is no longer seen as legitimate.

Of course, the relevance of a state being ‘failed’ or not failed lies primarily with how this changes the behaviour of other states and non-state groups towards it. If being a failed state suspends the traditional rights afforded to states – from territorial integrity to diplomatic immunity – being thus categorized could very significantly affect the treatment of both individuals and territory by outsiders.

In the first instance, a ‘failed’ state might be one that has lost control of what passes in and out of its territory, to the point where it endangers neighbouring states. This is a situation very specifically addressed in the United Nations Charter. Chapter VII specifically empowers the Security Council to “to maintain or restore international peace and security.” Generally, serious measures such as sanctions or interventions need to be justified as responses to such a threat. While the issue is sometimes fudged – for instance, by saying that possible refugee flows from an internal conflict threaten international peace and security – this is still quite generous amount of space to give states, in which to manage their own affairs.

There is a problem here, when it comes to states that have strong governments, and possibly even democratic legitimacy, but nonetheless either passively submit to or actively encourage activities that threaten international peace and security. Supplying weapons to illegal groups, for instance, is an activity that a very great many states have engaged in. It may be possible to be a criminal state without being a ‘failed’ state. If so, the difference in terms of treatment is worthy of consideration.

A definition of state failure based on the maintenance of certain characteristics by the state under consideration necessitates a setting out of what the essential characteristics of statehood are. In The Neutrality of Great Britain during the American Civil War, Montague Bernard explained it thusly:

a Community or number of persons permanently organised under a Sovereign Government of their own, and by a Sovereign Government we mean a Government, however constituted, which exercises the power of making and enforcing law within a Community, and is not itself subject to any superior Government. These two factors, the one positive, the other negative, the exercise of power and the absence of superior control, compose the notion of Sovereignty and are essential to it.

Here, non-failed states need to do more than control their borders; they also need to maintain the capacity to enact and enforce laws. Probably, this requires more resources than just maintaining territorial integrity, though it is hard to imagine a state with impeccably policed borders and a largely lawless interior. The bigger issue with this expanded definition is that it begins to subject the internal structures of a state to external scrutiny, in a way closely tied to the ability of that state to maintain international legitimacy and recognition.

(I know we discussed a formal definition of statehood in international law, in the class I took at UBC on that subject. I can’t remember which specific document was involved, however. Anyone who does is very much encouraged to comment. All my notes and textbooks from the course are back in Vancouver.)

The definition of state failure with the widest scope is some kind of affirmation of moral codes that non-failed states must obey, even in the conduct of their internal operations. This is, of course, a conception that arises hand in hand with the idea of human security. The idea that governments that either actively engage in crimes against humanity or allow them to take place unchecked have foregone their sovereignty is one that can be easily justified within a liberal tradition of political theory. Of course, it is a step beyond that to affirm the right of other states, or of the international community, to intervene in such circumstances.

Other problems arise when the above criteria are considered in combination. Take the example of Pakistan. By many measures, it is a strong state. There is an organized central government with a clear structure. There is an organized military and police forces. The state is externally recognized by the international community. At the same time, Pakistan either cannot or does not control the flow of materials and individuals across its northern border with Afghanistan, despite a recent and bloody effort on the part of the army to take control. Also, Pakistan has been shown to be involved in international illicit trade in nuclear materials and information on making nuclear weapons. While few would call Pakistan a failed state, it does demonstrate characteristics associated with state failure.

In the end, it isn’t clear to me that the failed / non-failed dynamic has much usefulness, when it comes to states. It is too simple to allege that a right to intervene arises from failure to comply with one or another set of requirements. Some kind of more sophisticated moral and legal conversation is necessary, making this binary distinction just one point of discussion in a broader dialogue.

Another death in Iraq

The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish.

Charlie Chapman – “The Great Dictator“

Saddam Hussein’s sentence, discussed here previously, has been carried out. I maintain that it was immoral to kill him, just as it is immoral to take anyone’s life in the pursuit of justice. It is not through the living or dying of individuals that just societies arise, but through the creation and maintenance of fair and impartial institutions. This is why Chapman’s statement, while stirring, is also profoundly naïve. Sadly, very little in the way of a just society seems to be emerging in Saddam’s former kingdom.

I am not sure whether it is legitimate to hope that this will bring some satisfaction to the families of those tortured and murdered by his regime. On the one hand, they deserve whatever kind of compensation can be provided. On the other, encouraging people to delight in the death of a fellow human being seems morally reprehensible. At the very least, let us hope that this action does not spur greater violence in Iraq, and does not cut short the investigation and documentation of the whole sordid history of Saddam’s regime.

[Update: 3:00pm] My friends Lee and Tim have also commented on this matter.

Valdez damages halved

Ship and mosques in Istanbul

Today, an American court halved the punitive damages being imposed on Exxon for the 1989 Valdez oil spill from US$5 billion to $2.5 billion. Reading about it prompts a number of strands of thinking:

Firstly, it surprises me that punitive damages still have not been assigned. Chances to bemoan the slow pace of litigation in the United States (and all the problems that accompany it) are many. No doubt, a great deal of whatever settlements are reached will go to the hordes of lawyers, photocopiers, and expert witnesses who worked on the case, rather than to the people who suffered from the spill or to the rebuilding (such as is possible) of the affected ecosystems.

The second thought that comes to mind is along the lines of: “Didn’t Exxon earn record profits this year?” They earned US$10.4 billion (£5.6bn) in the second quarter of 2006. While this is a fairly natural response, it is not necessarily a very legitimate one. The damages being considered are meant to address the conduct of the company in 1989, something that is not obviously related to its present financial circumstances. At the same time, the purpose of punitive damages is to encourage a company to exercise greater caution in the future, when engaging in similar activities. Not having captains that swig vodka before heading to the bridge is a good start. Reading about that, one has feels an emotional inclination to wring them for all they are worth.

To what extent would charging Exxon $5 billion instead of $2.5 billion alter the likelihood of future spills? The purpose of such punishments is not revenge, but the inducement of desirable changes in behaviour. No punishment short of utterly bankrupting the company would actually stop them from shipping oil from Alaska to the contiguous 48 states. That said, a big punishments also catch the attention of other big oil firms who have the ability to take action to make such spills less likely, and less severe if they do take place.

A final issue to consider is that of moral hazard. If the penalty is cut in half, after seventeen years in court, it suggests to companies that they can reduce such costs just by spinning things through the legal system for as long as possible. The whole situation is like a test case from my Law and Economics course at UBC with Robert Gateman. Which outcome secures the best mix of equity and efficiency? Which establishes the best incentives for future behaviour?

Of course, I am not one of the judges in the case. I have not examined the relevant facts and laws and, as such, it is impossible to know whether this reduction is warranted or not. My personal sympathies do not lie with oil companies, but they have the same right to be treated with due process under the law as any other entity within society. Hopefully, regardless of the final amount of the penalty, mechanisms have been put into action that will prevent catastrophes like the Valdez spill in the future.