foreignpolicy--2020-10-26--Russia’s Internet Freedom Shrinks as Kremlin Seizes Control of Homegrown Tech

This month , two Russian firms separately announced plans that would put them in direct competition : Yandex , the internet and search company , acquired the online bank Tinkoff , while the banking giant Sberbank unveiled a suite of technology products just two days later .
As the Moscow Times reported , “ analysts also point out that Russia is long-overdue a digitization surge , and there could easily be room for both to emerge winners.
” But behind this is another conflict—the Kremlin ’ s ever expanding attempts to bring technology firms in Russia under the state ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a role in these efforts ; Yandex has been under Kremlin pressure to give the Russian government more influence over its decisions , and Sberbank is a state-owned enterprise .
( The latter is sanctioned by the U.S .
government . )
Corporate takeovers such as Yandex ’ s acquisition of Tinkoff are pushing Russia ’ s major tech companies into ever growing conglomerates , controlled either directly by the government or by other actors trusted to advance Kremlin internet policy .
But the Kremlin ’ s toolkit of coercion is much broader @ @ @ @ @ @ @ one tactic .
The Russian government has recognized the scale of political and economic power now wielded by internet companies and sought to channel that power toward its own ends .
Since Russia ’ s 2014 war against Ukraine , the Russian government has carried out a rapidly escalating crackdown on internet freedom , but the hostile attitude toward freedom of information underlying Russia ’ s internet policy has changed little since Vladimir Putin first took office in 2000 .
The Kremlin ’ s strategy for the internet has in many ways mirrored @ @ @ @ @ @ @ era to bring Russia ’ s major broadcast and print media—then the major means of information dissemination—under effective government control .
At that time , the internet played no meaningful role in how most of the Russian public read the news or communicated with one another and therefore escaped major attempts at government interference .
In the 20 years since , however , as the importance of online traditional and social media has grown dramatically in Russia ( as in most of the world ) , controlling the internet has become a higher @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ever more authoritarian tactics .
In addition to its efforts to control online media outlets , the Russian government—in recognition of the internet ’ s power as a tool for communication—has prioritized maximizing its surveillance potential and enlisted social media and other tech companies in this push .
Through publicly enacted measures , it has created a legal and technological framework for the internet in Russia under which only encryption ( rather than any legal protection ) can effectively prevent the authorities from viewing the content of any internet traffic within the country @ @ @ @ @ @ @ surprisingly little attention relative to its potential significance , is to enlist Russian internet companies in the government ’ s foreign espionage efforts .
This topic may be downplayed due to well-justified cynicism : It would of course be naive to assume that the Russian government is alone in such conduct , as authoritarian and democratic governments alike regularly demand user information , most often calling it necessary for the criminal justice process .
But Russia has had a unique case made public .
In April 2014 , Pavel Durov—the founder of VKontakte @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Russia ’ s most popular social media platform—published a letter he ’ d received the previous December from the country ’ s Federal Security Service ( FSB ) , which is responsible for domestic security but also foreign electronic surveillance .
The letter demanded the personal data of users running popular VK groups involved in the Ukrainian Euromaidan protests , a movement that would ultimately result in the ouster of Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych .
The FSB ’ s demands demonstrate the power of the government to requisition user data from privately owned @ @ @ @ @ @ @ conduct espionage abroad .
What sets this apart from the surveillance practices of most democratic governments ( including the United States ) is the lack of any political or legal checks that could serve to protect users ’ privacy .
When Edward Snowden ’ s 2013 disclosure of the PRISM program revealed that U.S. intelligence was collecting data from social media platforms , such surveillance became a major story in U.S. politics .
U.S. tech companies responded with outrage on their users ’ behalf , changed their practices to better protect user data @ @ @ @ @ @ @ government to court to challenge its surveillance practices , earning praise from the American Civil Liberties Union and other privacy activists .
In Russia , where the Putin regime had already destroyed judicial independence , asserted control of most media outlets , and seriously weakened civil society , Durov ’ s revelation had little impact on public discourse around surveillance , and the tech sector ( already by that point largely under Kremlin control ) produced no comparable response .
VK ’ s story is illustrative of many of the different tactics broadly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ efforts to gain control .
When Durov published his letter from the FSB four months after receiving it , he had already fled Russia .
That final conflict was only the latest in a string of highly public confrontations between Durov and the Russian government that included an incident when Durov refused a prosecutor ’ s order to take down VK pages being used to organize protests against Russia ’ s fraudulent parliamentary elections , provoking a police special forces raid on his apartment .
Raids by masked and armed police on the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of their owners are a regular feature of Russia ’ s tech industry—as they are to some extent in all profitable parts of the Russian economy .
These extortion tactics are often paired with corporate ownership maneuvers aimed at bringing those companies under the ownership of state-controlled companies or Kremlin-friendly businessmen .
In the case of VK , the personal pressure against Durov occurred against a backdrop of a yearslong effort by Mail.ru—a Russian tech giant owned by the billionaire and close Putin ally Alisher Usmanov—to acquire a controlling stake in VK .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ few months after Durov fled Russia , the company added Russia ’ s most popular social network to a product portfolio that already included its namesake email service ( the most used webmail provider in Russia ) and Odnoklassniki , the country ’ s second-most popular social network .
This represented a remarkable corporate consolidation of Russia ’ s biggest online communications platforms , equivalent to Facebook following up its merger with Instagram by also taking control of Gmail .
Corporate consolidation in the tech sector poses problems for freedom of expression and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the primary driving force behind such consolidation is not the companies ’ own economic motivations but rather the government ’ s political aims .
In the case of Mail.ru , these platforms were now under the control of an owner ready and willing to use his immense wealth and power to censor anti-Putin press coverage and to attack Putin critics .
That merger , however , was not the end of the Kremlin ’ s use of corporate takeovers as an instrument to control the country ’ s tech giants .
Yandex @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s most used search engine maintains a news aggregator that is the single-most popular news source on the Russian internet and therefore a priority target for the Russian government , has similarly been subject to aggressive corporate takeover tactics .
But Yandex ’ s recent ownership restructuring did not directly result from these tactics ; instead , the most proximate cause was the threat of new legislation that would limit or prohibit foreign ownership of Russian tech companies .
In this case , the relevant legislation was directly intended to pressure Yandex @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the legislation was introduced in 2018 during a Sberbank takeover attempt and then withdrawn after Yandex voluntarily restructured .
Other legislation , however , has constrained the activities of Russian companies in a number of ways going well beyond ownership .
The Russian government surveillance system known by the acronym SORM has given the FSB access to all Russian telecommunications infrastructure since the 1990s , with updates implemented to capture more internet and mobile phone communications as technology evolved .
Telecommunications companies have little ability to push back , as SORM gives @ @ @ @ @ @ @ right to collect data from private companies without those companies ’ knowledge .
A 2012 law allowing Russia ’ s internet oversight agency , Roskomnadzor , to order the blocking of websites supposedly engaged in criminal activity has been used extensively to censor political speech , leaving publishers and users of blocked sites no legal recourse .
Most recently , the “ Yarovaya ” and “ sovereign internet ” laws—which entered into force in 2018 and 2019 , respectively—have imposed new surveillance and censorship requirements on tech companies and undermined any remaining legal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to protect user privacy from surveillance or supply users with uncensored information , including from outside the country .
All of this leads to a grim conclusion : Barring dramatic political reforms , the Russian tech business sector can no longer be a source of independent action on behalf of a free internet in Russia , and Russians seeking to use the internet for private communications and uncensored information will have to turn elsewhere .
The outlook for international companies , while certainly more optimistic , is also less clear .
Moscow ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ technology companies—those incorporated in other countries but operating in Russia—are quite similar to those it pursues with domestic firms .
Authorities want to maximize surveillance potential , disrupt any possibility of domestic political unrest as a result of those companies ’ content or services , and continue projecting disinformation through the internet .
Recent battles over data localization , or the mandated storage of certain kinds of data within Russia ’ s borders , exemplify the Kremlin ’ s desire to maximize its own surveillance potential through foreign companies .
Like many authoritarian @ @ @ @ @ @ @ free information flows as a threat to regime security , Moscow required in 2014 that companies with data on Russian citizens store it locally .
Firms could maintain copies of the data elsewhere , but the data itself had to sit in Russian servers , well within the broad legal and political jurisdiction of the Russian security services described above .
In recent years , U.S. companies like Facebook and Twitter have seemingly just ignored these orders and continued paying the trivial , court-ordered fines , but pressures are likely to grow as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Russia ’ s moves to cement state control over data storage fit into a broader picture of government efforts to centralize internet data flows , designed at the internet ’ s inception to prioritize fast and reliable delivery above all else , to enable more effective government management and surveillance .
Though the process is often purely technical , the objectives are fundamentally political .
In practice , these measures allow the Russian government to surveil dissidents , ensure the privacy of Russian citizen data against perceived malicious foreign access , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ domain .
Simultaneously justifying two of the Kremlin ’ s other main goals in this sphere—disrupting the potential for political pluralism enabled by foreign tech platforms and projecting the state ’ s own disinformation through those same vectors—requires a kind of argumentative gymnastics .
The Russian government has for years required foreign internet companies operating in Russia to remove content it deems “ false.
” Should companies not comply , the Kremlin has vested powers in Roskomnadzor to initiate technical blocks on those websites .
Although these blocks are often evaded or poorly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to pressure foreign companies to remove content related to the COVID-19 crisis .
This minimizes the presence of state-critical or -contradictory information online in Russia .
At the same time , Russian government propaganda outlets often have a large presence in major Western platforms like Twitter and YouTube , and officials raise vocal objections anytime those firms take action against Russian state-controlled news outlets .
These inherent contradictions in the Russian government ’ s approach to international tech companies—the Kremlin wants these companies to operate in Russia but only on the Kremlin ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to suppress free speech inside Russia but howls when Russian government messaging abroad is met with wariness—mean that there is still space for international companies to effect a certain extent of internet freedom for Russian citizens .
This operating space , however , is under constant threat from the Russian government and is likely to be the site of several major conflicts in coming years .
First , international firms may continue to push back against certain elements of Russian state internet control .
U.S. firms that have mostly resisted complying with data @ @ @ @ @ @ @ willingness to follow Kremlin pressure .
Though , resistance of this kind won ’ t apply to every area online ; it ’ s important to not group different components of internet control here .
Content takedowns , for example , are one domain of internet control in the COVID-19 pandemic where the Russian government was quite successful in getting even U.S. social media companies to remove information from their platforms , within Russia , that officials deemed “ false.
” Second , the struggle to maintain a “ free internet ” in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dimensions .
The Russian government in June decided to reverse its ban on Telegram , the encrypted messaging app , essentially because it lacked the technical capacity to block it .
( Ironically , this comprises a certain kind of payback for none other than Pavel Durov—Telegram ’ s creator—who since losing VK and fleeing Russia has built his messaging app into one of the world ’ s most popular . )
The government is not conceding defeat in the technical battle for control , however .
The sovereign internet law that came @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for developing pernicious new technical censorship capabilities , including—perhaps most ominously—the ability to selectively censor content on international social media platforms in Russia while maintaining plausible deniability .
It also required domestic internet companies to centralize their architecture so authorities could potentially cut off the Russian internet from the rest of the world in the event of a security incident , broadly defined .
Thus , it will be incumbent on supporters of internet freedom to continue developing anti-censorship technology and maintain the kind of technical edge that has allowed Telegram to continue @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or censorship .
( Full disclosure : One of the authors of this article works for a company that develops anti-censorship software . )
And with Moscow advancing internet control domestically , officials will continue seeking the normalization of this practice on the global stage .
Recently , these efforts have focused on the United Nations , where for years the Russian state has proposed alternative cybercrime treaties that seek to justify its repressive internet policies and practices , clashing with free and open internet norms upheld by democracies worldwide .
In December @ @ @ @ @ @ @ one of these proposals passed , an indicator of broader support among governments for tighter internet control .
This was not an accidental occurrence .
Instead , it spotlights growing efforts by Russia , China , and others to spread their authoritarian worldview and undermine a global free and open internet model amid much democratic uncertainty on the future of the internet .
These outcomes should also serve as a reminder to tech companies , policymakers , and anyone who cares about maintaining an open global internet that internet freedom is neither inevitable @ @ @ @ @ @ @ internet sector , once a model of pluralism and independent thought , has been thoroughly subverted to the ends of the government .
As a once global internet splinters into national enclaves , it will take a concerted opposition effort to maintain international norms affirming that the internet should be a tool supporting rather than suppressing freedom of expression and information .

Dylan Myles-Primakoff and Justin Sherman

This month, two Russian firms separately announced plans that would put them in direct competition: Yandex, the internet and search company, acquired the online bank Tinkoff, while the banking giant Sberbank unveiled a suite of technology products just two days later. As the Moscow Times reported, “analysts also point out that Russia is long-overdue a digitization surge, and there could easily be room for both to emerge winners.”
This month, two Russian firms separately announced plans that would put them in direct competition: Yandex, the internet and search company, acquired the online bank Tinkoff, while the banking giant Sberbank unveiled a suite of technology products just two days later. As the Moscow Times reported, “analysts also point out that Russia is long-overdue a digitization surge, and there could easily be room for both to emerge winners.”
But behind this is another conflict—the Kremlin’s ever expanding attempts to bring technology firms in Russia under the state’s control. Both companies have played a role in these efforts; Yandex has been under Kremlin pressure to give the Russian government more influence over its decisions, and Sberbank is a state-owned enterprise. (The latter is sanctioned by the U.S. government.) Corporate takeovers such as Yandex’s acquisition of Tinkoff are pushing Russia’s major tech companies into ever growing conglomerates, controlled either directly by the government or by other actors trusted to advance Kremlin internet policy.
But the Kremlin’s toolkit of coercion is much broader, and more international, than this one tactic. The Russian government has recognized the scale of political and economic power now wielded by internet companies and sought to channel that power toward its own ends.
Since Russia’s 2014 war against Ukraine, the Russian government has carried out a rapidly escalating crackdown on internet freedom, but the hostile attitude toward freedom of information underlying Russia’s internet policy has changed little since Vladimir Putin first took office in 2000. The Kremlin’s strategy for the internet has in many ways mirrored the approaches used early in the Putin era to bring Russia’s major broadcast and print media—then the major means of information dissemination—under effective government control.
At that time, the internet played no meaningful role in how most of the Russian public read the news or communicated with one another and therefore escaped major attempts at government interference. In the 20 years since, however, as the importance of online traditional and social media has grown dramatically in Russia (as in most of the world), controlling the internet has become a higher priority for a government willing to use ever more authoritarian tactics.
In addition to its efforts to control online media outlets, the Russian government—in recognition of the internet’s power as a tool for communication—has prioritized maximizing its surveillance potential and enlisted social media and other tech companies in this push. Through publicly enacted measures, it has created a legal and technological framework for the internet in Russia under which only encryption (rather than any legal protection) can effectively prevent the authorities from viewing the content of any internet traffic within the country.
A third goal, which receives surprisingly little attention relative to its potential significance, is to enlist Russian internet companies in the government’s foreign espionage efforts. This topic may be downplayed due to well-justified cynicism: It would of course be naive to assume that the Russian government is alone in such conduct, as authoritarian and democratic governments alike regularly demand user information, most often calling it necessary for the criminal justice process. But Russia has had a unique case made public.
In April 2014, Pavel Durov—the founder of VKontakte (now known as VK), Russia’s most popular social media platform—published a letter he’d received the previous December from the country’s Federal Security Service (FSB), which is responsible for domestic security but also foreign electronic surveillance. The letter demanded the personal data of users running popular VK groups involved in the Ukrainian Euromaidan protests, a movement that would ultimately result in the ouster of Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych. The FSB’s demands demonstrate the power of the government to requisition user data from privately owned social media companies expressly in order to conduct espionage abroad.
What sets this apart from the surveillance practices of most democratic governments (including the United States) is the lack of any political or legal checks that could serve to protect users’ privacy. When Edward Snowden’s 2013 disclosure of the PRISM program revealed that U.S. intelligence was collecting data from social media platforms, such surveillance became a major story in U.S. politics. U.S. tech companies responded with outrage on their users’ behalf, changed their practices to better protect user data from government collection, and took the government to court to challenge its surveillance practices, earning praise from the American Civil Liberties Union and other privacy activists. In Russia, where the Putin regime had already destroyed judicial independence, asserted control of most media outlets, and seriously weakened civil society, Durov’s revelation had little impact on public discourse around surveillance, and the tech sector (already by that point largely under Kremlin control) produced no comparable response.
VK’s story is illustrative of many of the different tactics broadly employed by the Russian government in its efforts to gain control. When Durov published his letter from the FSB four months after receiving it, he had already fled Russia. That final conflict was only the latest in a string of highly public confrontations between Durov and the Russian government that included an incident when Durov refused a prosecutor’s order to take down VK pages being used to organize protests against Russia’s fraudulent parliamentary elections, provoking a police special forces raid on his apartment.
Raids by masked and armed police on the offices of tech companies and the homes of their owners are a regular feature of Russia’s tech industry—as they are to some extent in all profitable parts of the Russian economy. These extortion tactics are often paired with corporate ownership maneuvers aimed at bringing those companies under the ownership of state-controlled companies or Kremlin-friendly businessmen. In the case of VK, the personal pressure against Durov occurred against a backdrop of a yearslong effort by Mail.ru—a Russian tech giant owned by the billionaire and close Putin ally Alisher Usmanov—to acquire a controlling stake in VK. When Mail.ru succeeded in this effort a few months after Durov fled Russia, the company added Russia’s most popular social network to a product portfolio that already included its namesake email service (the most used webmail provider in Russia) and Odnoklassniki, the country’s second-most popular social network.
This represented a remarkable corporate consolidation of Russia’s biggest online communications platforms, equivalent to Facebook following up its merger with Instagram by also taking control of Gmail. Corporate consolidation in the tech sector poses problems for freedom of expression and information everywhere. In Russia, however, the primary driving force behind such consolidation is not the companies’ own economic motivations but rather the government’s political aims.
In the case of Mail.ru, these platforms were now under the control of an owner ready and willing to use his immense wealth and power to censor anti-Putin press coverage and to attack Putin critics. That merger, however, was not the end of the Kremlin’s use of corporate takeovers as an instrument to control the country’s tech giants. Yandex, which in addition to operating Russia’s most used search engine maintains a news aggregator that is the single-most popular news source on the Russian internet and therefore a priority target for the Russian government, has similarly been subject to aggressive corporate takeover tactics. But Yandex’s recent ownership restructuring did not directly result from these tactics; instead, the most proximate cause was the threat of new legislation that would limit or prohibit foreign ownership of Russian tech companies.
In this case, the relevant legislation was directly intended to pressure Yandex into a corporate restructuring—evidenced by the fact that the legislation was introduced in 2018 during a Sberbank takeover attempt and then withdrawn after Yandex voluntarily restructured. Other legislation, however, has constrained the activities of Russian companies in a number of ways going well beyond ownership.
The Russian government surveillance system known by the acronym SORM has given the FSB access to all Russian telecommunications infrastructure since the 1990s, with updates implemented to capture more internet and mobile phone communications as technology evolved. Telecommunications companies have little ability to push back, as SORM gives the FSB the capability and the legal right to collect data from private companies without those companies’ knowledge.
A 2012 law allowing Russia’s internet oversight agency, Roskomnadzor, to order the blocking of websites supposedly engaged in criminal activity has been used extensively to censor political speech, leaving publishers and users of blocked sites no legal recourse. Most recently, the “Yarovaya” and “sovereign internet” laws—which entered into force in 2018 and 2019, respectively—have imposed new surveillance and censorship requirements on tech companies and undermined any remaining legal or technical capacity that they might have to protect user privacy from surveillance or supply users with uncensored information, including from outside the country.
All of this leads to a grim conclusion: Barring dramatic political reforms, the Russian tech business sector can no longer be a source of independent action on behalf of a free internet in Russia, and Russians seeking to use the internet for private communications and uncensored information will have to turn elsewhere. The outlook for international companies, while certainly more optimistic, is also less clear.
Moscow’s goals when it comes to international technology companies—those incorporated in other countries but operating in Russia—are quite similar to those it pursues with domestic firms. Authorities want to maximize surveillance potential, disrupt any possibility of domestic political unrest as a result of those companies’ content or services, and continue projecting disinformation through the internet.
Recent battles over data localization, or the mandated storage of certain kinds of data within Russia’s borders, exemplify the Kremlin’s desire to maximize its own surveillance potential through foreign companies. Like many authoritarian governments that viewed the internet’s free information flows as a threat to regime security, Moscow required in 2014 that companies with data on Russian citizens store it locally. Firms could maintain copies of the data elsewhere, but the data itself had to sit in Russian servers, well within the broad legal and political jurisdiction of the Russian security services described above. In recent years, U.S. companies like Facebook and Twitter have seemingly just ignored these orders and continued paying the trivial, court-ordered fines, but pressures are likely to grow as Putin further pushes for a domestic internet.
Russia’s moves to cement state control over data storage fit into a broader picture of government efforts to centralize internet data flows, designed at the internet’s inception to prioritize fast and reliable delivery above all else, to enable more effective government management and surveillance. Though the process is often purely technical, the objectives are fundamentally political. In practice, these measures allow the Russian government to surveil dissidents, ensure the privacy of Russian citizen data against perceived malicious foreign access, and extend state information control in the digital domain.
Simultaneously justifying two of the Kremlin’s other main goals in this sphere—disrupting the potential for political pluralism enabled by foreign tech platforms and projecting the state’s own disinformation through those same vectors—requires a kind of argumentative gymnastics. The Russian government has for years required foreign internet companies operating in Russia to remove content it deems “false.”
Should companies not comply, the Kremlin has vested powers in Roskomnadzor to initiate technical blocks on those websites. Although these blocks are often evaded or poorly implemented, the government has still managed to pressure foreign companies to remove content related to the COVID-19 crisis. This minimizes the presence of state-critical or -contradictory information online in Russia. At the same time, Russian government propaganda outlets often have a large presence in major Western platforms like Twitter and YouTube, and officials raise vocal objections anytime those firms take action against Russian state-controlled news outlets.
These inherent contradictions in the Russian government’s approach to international tech companies—the Kremlin wants these companies to operate in Russia but only on the Kremlin’s own terms; it pressures companies to suppress free speech inside Russia but howls when Russian government messaging abroad is met with wariness—mean that there is still space for international companies to effect a certain extent of internet freedom for Russian citizens. This operating space, however, is under constant threat from the Russian government and is likely to be the site of several major conflicts in coming years.
First, international firms may continue to push back against certain elements of Russian state internet control. U.S. firms that have mostly resisted complying with data localization rules have not indicated any changed willingness to follow Kremlin pressure. Though, resistance of this kind won’t apply to every area online; it’s important to not group different components of internet control here. Content takedowns, for example, are one domain of internet control in the COVID-19 pandemic where the Russian government was quite successful in getting even U.S. social media companies to remove information from their platforms, within Russia, that officials deemed “false.”
Second, the struggle to maintain a “free internet” in Russia will increasingly be defined by technical dimensions. The Russian government in June decided to reverse its ban on Telegram, the encrypted messaging app, essentially because it lacked the technical capacity to block it. (Ironically, this comprises a certain kind of payback for none other than Pavel Durov—Telegram’s creator—who since losing VK and fleeing Russia has built his messaging app into one of the world’s most popular.)
The government is not conceding defeat in the technical battle for control, however. The sovereign internet law that came into force in 2019 provides a plan for developing pernicious new technical censorship capabilities, including—perhaps most ominously—the ability to selectively censor content on international social media platforms in Russia while maintaining plausible deniability. It also required domestic internet companies to centralize their architecture so authorities could potentially cut off the Russian internet from the rest of the world in the event of a security incident, broadly defined. Thus, it will be incumbent on supporters of internet freedom to continue developing anti-censorship technology and maintain the kind of technical edge that has allowed Telegram to continue operating in Russia without compromising on surveillance or censorship. (Full disclosure: One of the authors of this article works for a company that develops anti-censorship software.)
And with Moscow advancing internet control domestically, officials will continue seeking the normalization of this practice on the global stage. Recently, these efforts have focused on the United Nations, where for years the Russian state has proposed alternative cybercrime treaties that seek to justify its repressive internet policies and practices, clashing with free and open internet norms upheld by democracies worldwide. In December 2019, for the first time, one of these proposals passed, an indicator of broader support among governments for tighter internet control. This was not an accidental occurrence. Instead, it spotlights growing efforts by Russia, China, and others to spread their authoritarian worldview and undermine a global free and open internet model amid much democratic uncertainty on the future of the internet.
These outcomes should also serve as a reminder to tech companies, policymakers, and anyone who cares about maintaining an open global internet that internet freedom is neither inevitable nor permanent. Russia’s domestic internet sector, once a model of pluralism and independent thought, has been thoroughly subverted to the ends of the government. As a once global internet splinters into national enclaves, it will take a concerted opposition effort to maintain international norms affirming that the internet should be a tool supporting rather than suppressing freedom of expression and information.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-26--Afghanistan Is Not Doomed to Repeat Its Past

Afghanistan Is Not Doomed to Repeat Its Past Negotiations between the Taliban and the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan have opened in Doha , Qatar , but violence continues and even appears to be escalating .
Some of the worst attacks , such as the Oct. 24 strike on an educational center in Kabul that killed at least 30 students , have been claimed by the so-called Islamic State .
That group rejects all negotiations as it pursues its global agenda .
But both the Taliban and the government have been responsible for recent civilian casualties , too , with Taliban @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
That ’ s why the government in Kabul , the political opposition , and civil-society groups are all demanding that the Taliban agree to a cease-fire .
So far , the only condition the Taliban have stated for ending the violence is the establishment of an “ Islamic system , ” which they have not defined .
The group has meanwhile stalled the proceedings by refusing to budge on procedural matters , including on which school of Islamic jurisprudence should be used to resolve disputes .
If and when the talks turn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be on the agenda .
To get the Taliban to agree to one , they will most certainly have to be given something substantial in return .
They will want further guarantees from the United States that it will complete its withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan and lift sanctions imposed on the Taliban .
From the Afghan side , they may demand the replacement of the current government by an interim government with representatives of both sides .
The interim government would preside over a political process to determine what the Doha agreement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s political future .
Such an idea is under discussion in Kabul , but is very controversial .
There is precedent for interim governments in the practice of peace processes in general and in Afghanistan , but the history of Afghanistan also shows the risks inherent in such measures .
There is precedent for interim governments in Afghanistan , but the history also shows the risks inherent in such measures .
The Bonn Agreement of December 2001 , concluded after the U.S. intervention in Afghanistan that toppled the Taliban government , provided @ @ @ @ @ @ @ convene an emergency loya jirga ( grand assembly ) to create a transitional administration that would oversee elections and the adoption of a new constitution .
That transition was largely implemented under the sponsorship of a large international presence , but the exclusion of the Taliban from the process and many other errors meant that these efforts marked a new stage of the war rather than a transition to peace .
And before that , there was Afghanistan ’ s experience establishing an interim government from 1991 to 1992 .
In those days @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Nations and supported by the United States and the Soviet Union led to the resignation of Afghan President Mohammed Najibullah .
His departure was supposed to make way for the installation of an interim government , but instead conflict broke out , leading to the breakdown of state institutions and the escalation of the war that eventually produced the Taliban .
Afghan President Ashraf Ghani has cited these events as a warning .
“ Dr .
Najibullah made the mistake of his life by announcing that he was going to resign , ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hosted by the U.S. Institute of Peace and the Atlantic Council in June .
“ Please don ’ t ask us to replay a film that we know well.
” The Geneva Accords made no provision for a political transition , but in 1989 , after the Soviet Union withdrew , Moscow began a dialogue with the United States about a U.N.-sponsored political settlement and conditions under which both sides would end military assistance .
Najibullah and his Soviet backers argued that the process should start under the incumbent ( him ) , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The United States , mujahideen , and Pakistan insisted that Najibullah resign at the start and be replaced by a U.N.-mediated interim government .
The Soviet Union agreed after the failed coup by hard-liners in Moscow in August 1991 that triggered the dissolution of the Soviet Union in December .
Just before the state ’ s demise , in September 1991 , both sides had agreed to end military aid to their proxies by January 1992 , with an interim government to take over on from Najibullah on April 15 that year .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , though , and mutinous militias blocked Najibullah from flying to India under U.N. escort .
The security forces fractured , and war started inside Kabul .
Out of the resulting chaos came the Taliban .
First , aid to the sitting government will continue .
As a result of the collapse of the Soviet Union , Najibullah ’ s government lost the assistance that paid the security forces and fed the urban population , leading to desertions and mutinies .
Today the Afghan government is even more dependent on aid than the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and the Taliban have begun while U.S. forces are still in the country and aid continues .
The Taliban have not asked the United States to halt aid to the Afghan government , and the United States is committed to giving it , even if not at the same level .
At the request of the Taliban , the Doha agreement the group signed with the United States commits Washington to support the future development of Afghanistan .
Second , the negotiation process has been more transparent .
In 1992 , negotiations over @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Najibullah and U.N. envoy Benon Sevan without participation by Najibullah ’ s colleagues in the ruling party , who suspected him of abandoning them to an unknown fate .
They decided to take matters into their own hands .
Analogous factional disputes have recurred this time around , but the peace effort is led by Ghani ’ s main rival , Afghanistan ’ s former CEO Abdullah Abdullah , and the negotiation team includes representatives of all the country ’ s major groups .
And that leads to the third point , which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and engaged in negotiations .
In the 1990s , the mujahideen—also at war internally—refused to meet with representatives of the Kabul regime , making the creation of a power-sharing interim government impossible .
This time , the Taliban also refused to meet the Afghan government before its February agreement with the United States on troop withdrawal , but they are now engaged in direct negotiations with representatives of the government .
The parties to a potential interim government are meeting directly in Doha , and the Taliban have developed a unified command structure @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mujahideen .
Finally , the 1992 peace plan contained no provision for the legal framework for the transition .
Nothing had been settled about the future command and pay of the security forces .
There was no road map that explained what role various groups might play under what rules , or how the transition would end .
Rule of law remains weak in Afghanistan , but there is now a constitution , and three functioning branches of government .
Afghanistan is a member of the United Nations and a party to many @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to assure the continuity of the legal identity of the state and its institutions , especially the security forces .
Any agreement to modify Afghanistan ’ s current political arrangements should take existing institutions as a point of departure .
For instance , the constitution provides for an interim government in Article 67 , which outlines procedures in the case of the death , resignation , illness , or impeachment of the president .
[ 1 ] To depart from these constitutional lines of succession , the formation of a new interim government @ @ @ @ @ @ @ jirga , a customary institution codified in the Bonn Agreement .
The Taliban would likewise use their own institutions to ratify it .
The agreement would also have to include , as did the Bonn Agreement , the structure and personnel of the interim government , provisions for all armed forces to come under the authority of the interim government , and the legal framework under which the interim authority would operate .
To develop its legal framework , the Bonn Agreement reached back to a time before the armed conflict .
It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as the Afghan Constitution of 1964 , with specified changes to meet the conditions of the time .
For a transition under current circumstances , it would make sense to specify the legal framework as the current constitution with appropriate modifications to accommodate the agreement on the interim government .
The Taliban may reject such a proposal , since it implies the acceptance of the existing constitution , but one former Taliban official suggested that the group might accept a modified version of the constitution of 1964 , on which the current constitution @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for appropriate changes based on the 2004 constitution for purposes of the interim regime .
Both the 1964 and 2004 constitutions provide for administrative centralization , which many communities oppose .
Those voices should also be heard .
Any interim government agreement should also note , as did the Bonn Agreement , that “ the Interim Authority shall be the repository of Afghan sovereignty , with immediate effect.
” The counterterrorism obligations of the Taliban enumerated in the Doha agreement as well as those of the current government could become obligations of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also have to agree with the interim government that all bilateral agreements remain in effect , subject to updates reflecting changed conditions in the country .
Finally , both sides have so far rejected any mediator or international facilitation , but they will find it difficult if not impossible to negotiate and implement such a complex agreement without it .
If there is no progress in the talks , the United States could simply disengage .
The United States is unlikely to break up like the Soviet Union , but it is certain @ @ @ @ @ @ @ numerous domestic crises .
The process might be different than in 1992 , but the result could be similar if not worse .
It is urgent to get these negotiations moving .

Negotiations between the Taliban and the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan have opened in Doha, Qatar, but violence continues and even appears to be escalating. Some of the worst attacks, such as the Oct. 24 strike on an educational center in Kabul that killed at least 30 students, have been claimed by the so-called Islamic State. That group rejects all negotiations as it pursues its global agenda. But both the Taliban and the government have been responsible for recent civilian casualties, too, with Taliban offensives responsible for most of the violence. That’s why the government in Kabul, the political opposition, and civil-society groups are all demanding that the Taliban agree to a cease-fire.
Negotiations between the Taliban and the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan have opened in Doha, Qatar, but violence continues and even appears to be escalating. Some of the worst attacks, such as the Oct. 24 strike on an educational center in Kabul that killed at least 30 students, have been claimed by the so-called Islamic State. That group rejects all negotiations as it pursues its global agenda. But both the Taliban and the government have been responsible for recent civilian casualties, too, with Taliban offensives responsible for most of the violence. That’s why the government in Kabul, the political opposition, and civil-society groups are all demanding that the Taliban agree to a cease-fire.
So far, the only condition the Taliban have stated for ending the violence is the establishment of an “Islamic system,” which they have not defined. The group has meanwhile stalled the proceedings by refusing to budge on procedural matters, including on which school of Islamic jurisprudence should be used to resolve disputes. If and when the talks turn to substantive matters, a ceasefire will be on the agenda.
To get the Taliban to agree to one, they will most certainly have to be given something substantial in return. They will want further guarantees from the United States that it will complete its withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan and lift sanctions imposed on the Taliban. From the Afghan side, they may demand the replacement of the current government by an interim government with representatives of both sides. The interim government would preside over a political process to determine what the Doha agreement calls a “roadmap” for Afghanistan’s political future. Such an idea is under discussion in Kabul, but is very controversial. There is precedent for interim governments in the practice of peace processes in general and in Afghanistan, but the history of Afghanistan also shows the risks inherent in such measures.
There is precedent for interim governments in Afghanistan, but the history also shows the risks inherent in such measures.
The Bonn Agreement of December 2001, concluded after the U.S. intervention in Afghanistan that toppled the Taliban government, provided for a six-month interim administration that would convene an emergency loya jirga (grand assembly) to create a transitional administration that would oversee elections and the adoption of a new constitution. That transition was largely implemented under the sponsorship of a large international presence, but the exclusion of the Taliban from the process and many other errors meant that these efforts marked a new stage of the war rather than a transition to peace.
And before that, there was Afghanistan’s experience establishing an interim government from 1991 to 1992. In those days, an effort led by the United Nations and supported by the United States and the Soviet Union led to the resignation of Afghan President Mohammed Najibullah. His departure was supposed to make way for the installation of an interim government, but instead conflict broke out, leading to the breakdown of state institutions and the escalation of the war that eventually produced the Taliban.
Afghan President Ashraf Ghani has cited these events as a warning. “Dr. Najibullah made the mistake of his life by announcing that he was going to resign,” he told the audience at an event hosted by the U.S. Institute of Peace and the Atlantic Council in June. “Please don’t ask us to replay a film that we know well.”
A closer look at the history Ghani was referring to is warranted. The Geneva Accords of April 1988 provided for the withdrawal of Soviet troops from Afghanistan by Feb. 15, 1989. As a first step toward stabilization, they also required the end of U.S. aid to the mujahideen by May 1988, but the United States refused to implement that provision without a commitment by the Soviet Union to stop military aid to the Afghan government.
The Geneva Accords made no provision for a political transition, but in 1989, after the Soviet Union withdrew, Moscow began a dialogue with the United States about a U.N.-sponsored political settlement and conditions under which both sides would end military assistance. Najibullah and his Soviet backers argued that the process should start under the incumbent (him), who may leave at the end. The United States, mujahideen, and Pakistan insisted that Najibullah resign at the start and be replaced by a U.N.-mediated interim government. The Soviet Union agreed after the failed coup by hard-liners in Moscow in August 1991 that triggered the dissolution of the Soviet Union in December. Just before the state’s demise, in September 1991, both sides had agreed to end military aid to their proxies by January 1992, with an interim government to take over on from Najibullah on April 15 that year. Mujahideen leaders in Pakistan rejected that agreement, though, and mutinous militias blocked Najibullah from flying to India under U.N. escort. The security forces fractured, and war started inside Kabul. Out of the resulting chaos came the Taliban.
Looking to the possibility of an interim government today, there are some elements in place now that would prevent a 1992-style collapse.
First, aid to the sitting government will continue. As a result of the collapse of the Soviet Union, Najibullah’s government lost the assistance that paid the security forces and fed the urban population, leading to desertions and mutinies. Today the Afghan government is even more dependent on aid than the Najibullah regime, but negotiations between it and the Taliban have begun while U.S. forces are still in the country and aid continues. The Taliban have not asked the United States to halt aid to the Afghan government, and the United States is committed to giving it, even if not at the same level. At the request of the Taliban, the Doha agreement the group signed with the United States commits Washington to support the future development of Afghanistan.
Second, the negotiation process has been more transparent. In 1992, negotiations over the peace plan took place entirely between Najibullah and U.N. envoy Benon Sevan without participation by Najibullah’s colleagues in the ruling party, who suspected him of abandoning them to an unknown fate. They decided to take matters into their own hands. Analogous factional disputes have recurred this time around, but the peace effort is led by Ghani’s main rival, Afghanistan’s former CEO Abdullah Abdullah, and the negotiation team includes representatives of all the country’s major groups.
And that leads to the third point, which is that the armed opposition is united and engaged in negotiations. In the 1990s, the mujahideen—also at war internally—refused to meet with representatives of the Kabul regime, making the creation of a power-sharing interim government impossible. This time, the Taliban also refused to meet the Afghan government before its February agreement with the United States on troop withdrawal, but they are now engaged in direct negotiations with representatives of the government. The parties to a potential interim government are meeting directly in Doha, and the Taliban have developed a unified command structure to avoid the factionalization that undermined the mujahideen.
Finally, the 1992 peace plan contained no provision for the legal framework for the transition. Nothing had been settled about the future command and pay of the security forces. There was no road map that explained what role various groups might play under what rules, or how the transition would end. Rule of law remains weak in Afghanistan, but there is now a constitution, and three functioning branches of government. Afghanistan is a member of the United Nations and a party to many international agreements. Any transition should seek to assure the continuity of the legal identity of the state and its institutions, especially the security forces.
In other words, the prospects for an interim government are better this time than in 1992. What is left is for the parties to, first, make clear the means by which each of the parties will commit to an agreement internally.
Any agreement to modify Afghanistan’s current political arrangements should take existing institutions as a point of departure. For instance, the constitution provides for an interim government in Article 67, which outlines procedures in the case of the death, resignation, illness, or impeachment of the president.[1] To depart from these constitutional lines of succession, the formation of a new interim government could be approved by an emergency loya jirga, a customary institution codified in the Bonn Agreement. The Taliban would likewise use their own institutions to ratify it. The agreement would also have to include, as did the Bonn Agreement, the structure and personnel of the interim government, provisions for all armed forces to come under the authority of the interim government, and the legal framework under which the interim authority would operate.
To develop its legal framework, the Bonn Agreement reached back to a time before the armed conflict. It defined the basis of the interim government as the Afghan Constitution of 1964, with specified changes to meet the conditions of the time. For a transition under current circumstances, it would make sense to specify the legal framework as the current constitution with appropriate modifications to accommodate the agreement on the interim government. The Taliban may reject such a proposal, since it implies the acceptance of the existing constitution, but one former Taliban official suggested that the group might accept a modified version of the constitution of 1964, on which the current constitution is based. The government could negotiate for appropriate changes based on the 2004 constitution for purposes of the interim regime. Both the 1964 and 2004 constitutions provide for administrative centralization, which many communities oppose. Those voices should also be heard.
Any interim government agreement should also note, as did the Bonn Agreement, that “the Interim Authority shall be the repository of Afghan sovereignty, with immediate effect.” The counterterrorism obligations of the Taliban enumerated in the Doha agreement as well as those of the current government could become obligations of the interim government. The United States would also have to agree with the interim government that all bilateral agreements remain in effect, subject to updates reflecting changed conditions in the country.
Finally, both sides have so far rejected any mediator or international facilitation, but they will find it difficult if not impossible to negotiate and implement such a complex agreement without it. If there is no progress in the talks, the United States could simply disengage. The United States is unlikely to break up like the Soviet Union, but it is certain to be distracted by the pandemic and numerous domestic crises. The process might be different than in 1992, but the result could be similar if not worse. It is urgent to get these negotiations moving.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-26--It’s Called the Sustainable Development Goals Index for a Reason

A recent opinion piece by Jason Hickel in Foreign Policy criticizes the SDG Index and Dashboards that assess progress on the United Nations ’ Sustainable Development Goals , published annually by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network and the Bertelsmann Stiftung in the Sustainable Development Report .
As co-authors of the annual report , we feel compelled to respond to these critiques .
Hickel is correct that good measures are needed to evaluate progress toward the Sustainable Development Goals ( SDGs ) and that the official SDG indicator framework , adopted by the U.N. General Assembly in July 2017 and revised @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for tracking environmental and biodiversity goals .
But Hickel is wrong about nearly everything else .
His article reflects four basic misunderstandings or misrepresentations about the SDG Index and Dashboards .
First , Hickel argues that there are issues with the technical construction of the SDG Index , including a weighting problem .
Yet , the SDG Index and Dashboards approach was peer-reviewed and published in 2017 in Nature Geoscience .
An independent statistical audit by the European Commission ’ s Joint Research Centre in 2019 emphasized the robustness of the rankings and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ datasets .
The SDG Index averages performance across indicators for each goal , so poor performance on one metric , such as an environmental one , enters fully into the score .
The same applies for poor performance on a particular goal .
As emphasized in the Sustainable Development Report and the Joint Research Centre audit , composite indicators aggregate a lot of information into a single number .
This provides a good overall picture of SDG progress but of course can not render indicator-by-indicator nuances .
The Sustainable Development Report therefore presents @ @ @ @ @ @ @ provide granular color-coded information on the strengths and weaknesses countries in relation to each SDG and every indicator .
The dashboard color for each goal is generated from the average performance among the two indicators where the county performs worst .
This is a harsh grading approach , which addresses the issue of compensation across indicators and emphasizes the indicators where countries perform poorly .
So the dashboard is set up to avoid celebrating good average performance , which might gloss over poor performance on environmental or other metrics .
Second , Hickel @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rich countries while turning a blind eye to the damage they are causing.
” But our results show that rich countries generally perform poorly and are off track to achieving environmental goals ( SDGs 12-15 ) and that poor countries need help to come out of poverty .
Rich European countries top the overall SDG Index .
This reflects the nature of the SDGs , as European countries , particularly the Nordic economies , perform strongly on socioeconomic goals , relatively strongly on some local environmental priorities ( e.g.
, wastewater treatment , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and strongly on public institutions and the rule of law .
As correctly pointed out by Hickel , these countries do face substantial environmental challenges , and they generate major environmental spillovers on other countries , but these effects are estimated and included in the SDG Index .
As a result , the SDG Dashboards score rich countries , including Nordic countries , “ red ” —meaning “ major challenges remain ” —on several SDGs , particularly those related to responsible consumption and production , climate action , and biodiversity .
Many rich @ @ @ @ @ @ @ SDG 2 ( Zero Hunger ) , which includes unsustainable agriculture , unsustainable diets , and obesity .
The harsh grading method of the SDG Dashboards highlights negative environmental spillovers that affect climate , biodiversity , or water scarcity in other countries .
In an effort to accurately measure often-overlooked issues , such as environmental challenges and international spillovers , the SDG Index includes high-quality official and unofficial metrics that fill gaps in the official SDG metrics .
For example , the SDG Index has included carbon dioxide emissions since its inception in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gas emissions under SDG 13 ( Climate Action ) was only added to the official list in 2019 .
The SDG Index and Dashboards also include unofficial measures of unsustainable fisheries and spillovers embodied in trade .
Compared with other SDG monitoring reports , the SDG Index generates far more negative scores for rich countries on SDGs 12-15 .
It is instructive to look at how the United States , the richest country in the world , performs on the SDG Index and Dashboards .
The country ranks 31st overall , well below @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Latvia , and Slovakia have much lower GDP per capita , but they perform better .
The United States scored “ red ” on six SDGs and has achieved none of the 17 SDGs , as indicated by the absence of “ green ” scores on its dashboard .
It also ranks 151st on the international spillover index .
It is safe to say that the report does not “ celebrate ” U.S. success on the SDGs .
At the same time , the SDG Index also underlines the fact that countries in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the world .
The 10 countries at the bottom of the SDG Index ranking are all located in sub-Saharan Africa .
They suffer from extreme poverty , hunger , and in most cases ongoing conflicts .
Poor access to basic health services , water , sanitation , and other infrastructure are also major challenges .
By contrast , they perform better on many environmental SDGs due to very low levels of consumption and production .
As underlined by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network and the IMF , low-income developing countries face an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of global GDP .
According to the latest figures published by the OECD Development Assistance Committee only five countries have achieved the target of 0.7 percent of gross national income dedicated to official development assistance .
These are Luxembourg , Norway , Sweden , Denmark , and the United Kingdom .
Third , Hickel claims that the vast majority of the environmental indicators in the SDG Index are “ territorial metrics that do not account for impacts related to international trade.
” This is also incorrect .
The SDG Index and Dashboards does @ @ @ @ @ @ @ those embodied in trade and consumption .
To our knowledge , no other SDG monitoring report has put so much emphasis on tracking spillovers from rich countries on environmental degradation in the rest of the world .
The SDG Index includes a stand-alone spillover index , which covers three dimensions : 1 ) environmental and social spillovers embodied in trade ; 2 ) economic , finance and governance spillovers ( including tax evasion , financial transparency , or official development assistance ) ; and 3 ) security spillovers ( including trade in major @ @ @ @ @ @ @ into the calculation of the SDG Index and are presented separately in every country profile .
For example , Sweden is ranked first in the 2020 SDG Index but is ranked 137th on international spillovers .
Sweden ’ s poor performance on spillovers is driven by imported carbon dioxide emissions , sulfur dioxide emissions , and biodiversity threats , as well as exports of major conventional weapons .
The worst performers on the per capita spillover index are all small rich states , including Kuwait , Luxembourg , Singapore , and Switzerland .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ of material footprint indicators and indicators of natural resource use .
While we agree that material resource use and consumption and their impacts on the environment are important policy issues , we stand by the decision to not include “ material footprint ” or “ domestic material consumption ” indicators in the SDG Index .
In their current form , these indicators present well-known weaknesses that are discussed in the Sustainable Development Report .
In particular , they combine by weight vastly different materials that each have different environmental impacts .
Moreover , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ weight with environmental impact , which vary tremendously across countries .
For example , one kilogram of biomass use in a humid tropical country has a different footprint from the same biomass consumption in a semi-arid country .
As a result , it is very difficult to compare material consumption across countries or to define targets .
We therefore do not agree with Hickel ’ s suggestion to make these metrics the overall measure of environmental sustainability and recommend instead the indicators that are included in the SDG Index and Dashboards .
Despite @ @ @ @ @ @ @ SDG Index certainly does not give a free pass to rich countries .
On the contrary , it reports the good performance of European countries , especially Nordic countries , on socioeconomic goals ( which form the majority of the 17 SDGs ) and tracks their much poorer performance on environmental goals ( SDGs 12-15 ) and on international spillovers .
We concur that better data is needed , which is why the Sustainable Development Report highlights data gaps and works to improve the metrics year on year , including through extensive consultations @ @ @ @ @ @ @ years , the Sustainable Development Report has been used extensively to inform priorities for actions and sustainable investments .
The sound methodology and the underlying data are available online for everyone to use .
Indeed , many countries , regions , and cities do just that .

Guillaume Lafortune, Jeffrey Sachs and Guido Schmidt-Traub

A recent opinion piece by Jason Hickel in Foreign Policy criticizes the SDG Index and Dashboards that assess progress on the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals, published annually by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network and the Bertelsmann Stiftung in the Sustainable Development Report. As co-authors of the annual report, we feel compelled to respond to these critiques.
A recent opinion piece by Jason Hickel in Foreign Policy criticizes the SDG Index and Dashboards that assess progress on the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals, published annually by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network and the Bertelsmann Stiftung in the Sustainable Development Report. As co-authors of the annual report, we feel compelled to respond to these critiques.
Hickel is correct that good measures are needed to evaluate progress toward the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and that the official SDG indicator framework, adopted by the U.N. General Assembly in July 2017 and revised regularly, has important limitations, especially for tracking environmental and biodiversity goals.
But Hickel is wrong about nearly everything else. His article reflects four basic misunderstandings or misrepresentations about the SDG Index and Dashboards (all of which are independent from the United Nations).
First, Hickel argues that there are issues with the technical construction of the SDG Index, including a weighting problem. Yet, the SDG Index and Dashboards approach was peer-reviewed and published in 2017 in Nature Geoscience. An independent statistical audit by the European Commission’s Joint Research Centre in 2019 emphasized the robustness of the rankings and the transparency of the methodology and online datasets. The SDG Index averages performance across indicators for each goal, so poor performance on one metric, such as an environmental one, enters fully into the score. The same applies for poor performance on a particular goal.
As emphasized in the Sustainable Development Report and the Joint Research Centre audit, composite indicators aggregate a lot of information into a single number. This provides a good overall picture of SDG progress but of course cannot render indicator-by-indicator nuances. The Sustainable Development Report therefore presents complementary indicator and goal dashboards, which provide granular color-coded information on the strengths and weaknesses countries in relation to each SDG and every indicator. The dashboard color for each goal is generated from the average performance among the two indicators where the county performs worst. This is a harsh grading approach, which addresses the issue of compensation across indicators and emphasizes the indicators where countries perform poorly. So the dashboard is set up to avoid celebrating good average performance, which might gloss over poor performance on environmental or other metrics.
Second, Hickel claims that the “SDG Index celebrates rich countries while turning a blind eye to the damage they are causing.” But our results show that rich countries generally perform poorly and are off track to achieving environmental goals (SDGs 12-15) and that poor countries need help to come out of poverty. Rich European countries top the overall SDG Index. This reflects the nature of the SDGs, as European countries, particularly the Nordic economies, perform strongly on socioeconomic goals, relatively strongly on some local environmental priorities (e.g., wastewater treatment, air pollution, or deforestation), and strongly on public institutions and the rule of law. As correctly pointed out by Hickel, these countries do face substantial environmental challenges, and they generate major environmental spillovers on other countries, but these effects are estimated and included in the SDG Index.
As a result, the SDG Dashboards score rich countries, including Nordic countries, “red”—meaning “major challenges remain”—on several SDGs, particularly those related to responsible consumption and production, climate action, and biodiversity. Many rich countries also face major challenges in achieving SDG 2 (Zero Hunger), which includes unsustainable agriculture, unsustainable diets, and obesity. The harsh grading method of the SDG Dashboards highlights negative environmental spillovers that affect climate, biodiversity, or water scarcity in other countries.
In an effort to accurately measure often-overlooked issues, such as environmental challenges and international spillovers, the SDG Index includes high-quality official and unofficial metrics that fill gaps in the official SDG metrics. For example, the SDG Index has included carbon dioxide emissions since its inception in 2016 even though a measure of greenhouse gas emissions under SDG 13 (Climate Action) was only added to the official list in 2019. The SDG Index and Dashboards also include unofficial measures of unsustainable fisheries and spillovers embodied in trade. Compared with other SDG monitoring reports, the SDG Index generates far more negative scores for rich countries on SDGs 12-15.
It is instructive to look at how the United States, the richest country in the world, performs on the SDG Index and Dashboards. The country ranks 31st overall, well below most other OECD countries. Croatia, Latvia, and Slovakia have much lower GDP per capita, but they perform better. The United States scored “red” on six SDGs and has achieved none of the 17 SDGs, as indicated by the absence of “green” scores on its dashboard. It also ranks 151st on the international spillover index. It is safe to say that the report does not “celebrate” U.S. success on the SDGs.
At the same time, the SDG Index also underlines the fact that countries in extreme poverty need help from the rest of the world. The 10 countries at the bottom of the SDG Index ranking are all located in sub-Saharan Africa. They suffer from extreme poverty, hunger, and in most cases ongoing conflicts. Poor access to basic health services, water, sanitation, and other infrastructure are also major challenges. By contrast, they perform better on many environmental SDGs due to very low levels of consumption and production.
As underlined by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network and the IMF, low-income developing countries face an SDG financing gap of about 0.4 percent of global GDP. According to the latest figures published by the OECD Development Assistance Committee only five countries have achieved the target of 0.7 percent of gross national income dedicated to official development assistance. These are Luxembourg, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and the United Kingdom.
Third, Hickel claims that the vast majority of the environmental indicators in the SDG Index are “territorial metrics that do not account for impacts related to international trade.” This is also incorrect. The SDG Index and Dashboards does track transboundary impacts and spillovers, including those embodied in trade and consumption. To our knowledge, no other SDG monitoring report has put so much emphasis on tracking spillovers from rich countries on environmental degradation in the rest of the world.
The SDG Index includes a stand-alone spillover index, which covers three dimensions: 1) environmental and social spillovers embodied in trade; 2) economic, finance and governance spillovers (including tax evasion, financial transparency, or official development assistance); and 3) security spillovers (including trade in major conventional weapons). These indicators enter into the calculation of the SDG Index and are presented separately in every country profile. For example, Sweden is ranked first in the 2020 SDG Index but is ranked 137th on international spillovers. Sweden’s poor performance on spillovers is driven by imported carbon dioxide emissions, sulfur dioxide emissions, and biodiversity threats, as well as exports of major conventional weapons. The worst performers on the per capita spillover index are all small rich states, including Kuwait, Luxembourg, Singapore, and Switzerland.
Fourth, Hickel advocates for greater use of material footprint indicators and indicators of natural resource use. While we agree that material resource use and consumption and their impacts on the environment are important policy issues, we stand by the decision to not include “material footprint” or “domestic material consumption” indicators in the SDG Index. In their current form, these indicators present well-known weaknesses that are discussed in the Sustainable Development Report. In particular, they combine by weight vastly different materials that each have different environmental impacts. Moreover, they do not relate material flows by weight with environmental impact, which vary tremendously across countries. For example, one kilogram of biomass use in a humid tropical country has a different footprint from the same biomass consumption in a semi-arid country. As a result, it is very difficult to compare material consumption across countries or to define targets. We therefore do not agree with Hickel’s suggestion to make these metrics the overall measure of environmental sustainability and recommend instead the indicators that are included in the SDG Index and Dashboards.
Despite Hickel’s overriding assertion, the SDG Index certainly does not give a free pass to rich countries. On the contrary, it reports the good performance of European countries, especially Nordic countries, on socioeconomic goals (which form the majority of the 17 SDGs) and tracks their much poorer performance on environmental goals (SDGs 12-15) and on international spillovers. We concur that better data is needed, which is why the Sustainable Development Report highlights data gaps and works to improve the metrics year on year, including through extensive consultations with experts and stakeholders.
Over the years, the Sustainable Development Report has been used extensively to inform priorities for actions and sustainable investments. The sound methodology and the underlying data are available online for everyone to use. Indeed, many countries, regions, and cities do just that.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-27--70 Is the New 50 for World Leaders

70 Is the New 50 for World Leaders

70 Is the New 50 for World Leaders When the next U.S. president is sworn in on Jan. 20 , 2021 , he will be the oldest person ever to take the oath of office .
Donald Trump , if reelected , will be 74 years old ; if it ’ s Joe Biden , he will be 78 .
( The previous record was set in 1985 , when Ronald Reagan was inaugurated for his second term three weeks before turning 74 . )
Both candidates have been raising concerns about the other ’ s fitness , relying on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Trump ’ s campaign has even depicted Biden in a wheelchair as an elderly and disabled potential resident in a senior home , while Trump himself has taken heat for problems with walking up and down ramps .
To be sure , we have had older presidents for whom health was an issue .
Woodrow Wilson and Franklin D. Roosevelt both suffered debilitating strokes in office in their 60s .
Reagan was formally diagnosed with Alzheimer ’ s five years after leaving office , and opponents raised concerns that he might have suffered @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ago , 70 was an age well past retirement and into old age .
Today , however , that ’ s simply no longer true .
On a variety of dimensions , Americans—especially college-educated white men—are living longer , healthier , and more active lives than before .
In Washington , D.C. , and New York ( among the recent homes of Trump and Biden ) , men ’ s life expectancy grew by 13.7 years just in the period from 1990 to 2015 .
Across the country , gains were even a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had earned a college degree .
Older folks are much healthier as well .
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention , among all Americans aged 75 and older , almost three-quarters rated their health ( or had their health rated by a family member ) as good to excellent in 2017 , compared to two-thirds who did so in 1991 .
Fears are sometimes expressed regarding both candidates that they might be at risk of dementia .
And it ’ s true that the onset of dementia among those who @ @ @ @ @ @ @ risk .
But the latest studies show those risks are declining as well .
A Harvard University-led study , published this year , shows that the risk of a 75-year-old man developing dementia during his remaining years has dropped from about a 25 percent chance in 1995 to an 18 percent chance today—a decline in the risk of dementia of almost one-third .
Other frailties of old age are also being remedied today .
Loss of mobility , sight , and hearing were once seen as inevitable consequences of aging that robbed seniors @ @ @ @ @ @ @ energetic lives .
But 80-year-olds today are playing tennis on replacement hips and knees , seeing clearly thanks to routine cataract replacement , and gaining access to powerful digital hearing aids that filter random noise and allow clear understanding and conversation .
We now know that routine exercise and fitness extends youth : As of 2019 , the average time for those ages 60-65 to run a 10K race is less than 10 minutes more than for those ages 25-29 !
The result of these positive trends is that 70-year-olds are playing a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ leadership positions .
According to the 2020 Crist Kolder Volatility Report , the age of new CEOs is around 20 percent higher today than in 2005 , and about 40 percent of working CEOs are over 60 .
That includes such famed decision-makers as Warren Buffett ( age 90 ) , Rupert Murdoch ( 89 ) , and Roger Penske ( 83 ) .
In the U.S. Congress , 36 members of the House of Representatives and 14 members of the Senate were over 75 years old ; seven of the latter were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ leaders of both Houses : Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell ( age 78 this year ) and Speaker Nancy Pelosi ( age 80 ) .
Many other countries around the world , including both democracies and dictatorships , have national leaders of distinguished age ; these include Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel ( 71 ) , Mahathir Mohamad of Malaysia ( who stepped down in March ahead of his 95th birthday , to be succeeded by Muhyiddin Yassin , age 73 ) , Sebastián Piñera of Chile ( 70 ) , Hassan Rouhani of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Bangladesh ( 73 ) , Yoshihide Suga of Japan ( 71 ) , Nicos Anastasiades of Cyprus ( 74 ) , Aung San Suu Kyi of Myanmar ( 75 ) , Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines ( 75 ) , Nguyen Phu Trong of Vietnam ( 76 ) , Nana Akufo-Addo of Ghana ( 76 ) , and Muhammadu Buhari of Nigeria ( 77 ) , among many others .
Looking back , Winston Churchill , one of Trump ’ s heroes , started his last term as U.K. prime minister at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has had no less than seven prime ministers who served into their 70s .
So having a President who is 70-something should not be a cause for concern .
In fact , it may be an advantage in the United States ’ current political situation .
Older leaders are distinct from younger ones in their skill set .
Obviously , their strong suit is experience .
A leader with decades of experience is likely to have encountered various crises before and to know how to respond effectively ( and what mistakes to avoid @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s like to make the tough calls and to take a longer view .
They are less strong at innovation , but for that reason they are also likely to be less polarizing .
Of course , that was not true of 70-year-old Donald Trump when he took office in 2017 .
But Trump came to the presidency with zero political experience .
He burnished his skills in the areas of real estate development and reality TV , so it should have been no surprise that he drew on his own long experience @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like a development firm with a reality-TV model for media exposure .
Joe Biden is more likely to govern as an experienced senior political leader .
That means he is more likely to be able to make compromises , be less ideological , and offer a more reassuring presence .
With the United States in the midst of two colliding crises—an ongoing pandemic and severe economic contraction—while also facing the need to manage U.S. relationships with estranged democratic allies and the growing threats from authoritarian regimes , that may be just what the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and chaos of the Trump years , the experienced Biden may provide a reassuring contrast .
Does this mean the United States faces a future of geriatric leaders ?
I think not .
We are probably seeing , in both Congress and the presidency , the last peak of leadership from the baby-boom generation .
Indeed , the 2020 election will likely be the last in which boomers are the largest generation of voters .
Moreover , if U.S. voters have shown a pattern in their political preferences , it is a desire @ @ @ @ @ @ @ continued the Bush dynasty , voters were drawn to the promise of a young , inexperienced , but passionate candidate in Barack Obama .
After Obama , when voters had a choice between another potential dynastic leader ( Hillary Clinton ) and a complete outsider ( Donald Trump ) , enough voters went for something completely different to give Trump the presidency .
This year , polls suggest the pendulum may swing back to a candidate who exemplifies political experience , in Biden .
But in 2024 , voters may again be impatient @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the new generations of millennials and post-millennials—a larger , far more ethnically diverse and more college-educated group than the baby boomers—will be a much bigger fraction of the voting population .
Where 75 percent of Americans ages 55 and up were non-Hispanic Whites as of 2015 , for millennials it was only about 56 percent .
The shift is especially marked in such election battleground states as Florida , Arizona , and Pennsylvania .
As that trend continues , the electorate is likely to favor a candidate who represents youth , change , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ century , Kamala Harris , Pete Buttigieg , and Marco Rubio more likely fit the profile for future presidents than aging baby boomers .
But for now , an experienced 70-something should do just fine .

When the next U.S. president is sworn in on Jan. 20, 2021, he will be the oldest person ever to take the oath of office. Donald Trump, if reelected, will be 74 years old; if it’s Joe Biden, he will be 78. (The previous record was set in 1985, when Ronald Reagan was inaugurated for his second term three weeks before turning 74.)
When the next U.S. president is sworn in on Jan. 20, 2021, he will be the oldest person ever to take the oath of office. Donald Trump, if reelected, will be 74 years old; if it’s Joe Biden, he will be 78. (The previous record was set in 1985, when Ronald Reagan was inaugurated for his second term three weeks before turning 74.)
Both candidates have been raising concerns about the other’s fitness, relying on common tropes about age and disability; Trump’s campaign has even depicted Biden in a wheelchair as an elderly and disabled potential resident in a senior home, while Trump himself has taken heat for problems with walking up and down ramps.
To be sure, we have had older presidents for whom health was an issue. Woodrow Wilson and Franklin D. Roosevelt both suffered debilitating strokes in office in their 60s. Reagan was formally diagnosed with Alzheimer’s five years after leaving office, and opponents raised concerns that he might have suffered early signs before then. A generation ago, 70 was an age well past retirement and into old age.
Today, however, that’s simply no longer true. On a variety of dimensions, Americans—especially college-educated white men—are living longer, healthier, and more active lives than before.
In Washington, D.C., and New York (among the recent homes of Trump and Biden), men’s life expectancy grew by 13.7 years just in the period from 1990 to 2015. Across the country, gains were even a couple of years greater for those who had earned a college degree. Older folks are much healthier as well. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, among all Americans aged 75 and older, almost three-quarters rated their health (or had their health rated by a family member) as good to excellent in 2017, compared to two-thirds who did so in 1991.
Fears are sometimes expressed regarding both candidates that they might be at risk of dementia. And it’s true that the onset of dementia among those who are 75 or older is a moderate risk. But the latest studies show those risks are declining as well. A Harvard University-led study, published this year, shows that the risk of a 75-year-old man developing dementia during his remaining years has dropped from about a 25 percent chance in 1995 to an 18 percent chance today—a decline in the risk of dementia of almost one-third.
Other frailties of old age are also being remedied today. Loss of mobility, sight, and hearing were once seen as inevitable consequences of aging that robbed seniors of their ability to lead vigorous, energetic lives. But 80-year-olds today are playing tennis on replacement hips and knees, seeing clearly thanks to routine cataract replacement, and gaining access to powerful digital hearing aids that filter random noise and allow clear understanding and conversation. We now know that routine exercise and fitness extends youth: As of 2019, the average time for those ages 60-65 to run a 10K race is less than 10 minutes more than for those ages 25-29!
The result of these positive trends is that 70-year-olds are playing a more active role than ever in major leadership positions. According to the 2020 Crist Kolder Volatility Report, the age of new CEOs is around 20 percent higher today than in 2005, and about 40 percent of working CEOs are over 60. That includes such famed decision-makers as Warren Buffett (age 90), Rupert Murdoch (89), and Roger Penske (83).
In the U.S. Congress, 36 members of the House of Representatives and 14 members of the Senate were over 75 years old; seven of the latter were 80 or older. These include the leaders of both Houses: Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (age 78 this year) and Speaker Nancy Pelosi (age 80).
Many other countries around the world, including both democracies and dictatorships, have national leaders of distinguished age; these include Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel (71), Mahathir Mohamad of Malaysia (who stepped down in March ahead of his 95th birthday, to be succeeded by Muhyiddin Yassin, age 73), Sebastián Piñera of Chile (70), Hassan Rouhani of Iran (71), Sheikh Hasina of Bangladesh (73), Yoshihide Suga of Japan (71), Nicos Anastasiades of Cyprus (74), Aung San Suu Kyi of Myanmar (75), Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines (75), Nguyen Phu Trong of Vietnam (76), Nana Akufo-Addo of Ghana (76), and Muhammadu Buhari of Nigeria (77), among many others. Looking back, Winston Churchill, one of Trump’s heroes, started his last term as U.K. prime minister at age 76; and since 1975 Japan has had no less than seven prime ministers who served into their 70s.
So having a President who is 70-something should not be a cause for concern. In fact, it may be an advantage in the United States’ current political situation.
Older leaders are distinct from younger ones in their skill set. Obviously, their strong suit is experience. A leader with decades of experience is likely to have encountered various crises before and to know how to respond effectively (and what mistakes to avoid). They know what it’s like to make the tough calls and to take a longer view. They are less strong at innovation, but for that reason they are also likely to be less polarizing.
Of course, that was not true of 70-year-old Donald Trump when he took office in 2017. But Trump came to the presidency with zero political experience. He burnished his skills in the areas of real estate development and reality TV, so it should have been no surprise that he drew on his own long experience as he ran his White House much like a development firm with a reality-TV model for media exposure.
Joe Biden is more likely to govern as an experienced senior political leader. That means he is more likely to be able to make compromises, be less ideological, and offer a more reassuring presence. With the United States in the midst of two colliding crises—an ongoing pandemic and severe economic contraction—while also facing the need to manage U.S. relationships with estranged democratic allies and the growing threats from authoritarian regimes, that may be just what the country needs. After the nonstop noise and chaos of the Trump years, the experienced Biden may provide a reassuring contrast.
Does this mean the United States faces a future of geriatric leaders? I think not. We are probably seeing, in both Congress and the presidency, the last peak of leadership from the baby-boom generation. Indeed, the 2020 election will likely be the last in which boomers are the largest generation of voters. Moreover, if U.S. voters have shown a pattern in their political preferences, it is a desire for change. After George W. Bush continued the Bush dynasty, voters were drawn to the promise of a young, inexperienced, but passionate candidate in Barack Obama. After Obama, when voters had a choice between another potential dynastic leader (Hillary Clinton) and a complete outsider (Donald Trump), enough voters went for something completely different to give Trump the presidency. This year, polls suggest the pendulum may swing back to a candidate who exemplifies political experience, in Biden.
But in 2024, voters may again be impatient for change. In coming elections, the new generations of millennials and post-millennials—a larger, far more ethnically diverse and more college-educated group than the baby boomers—will be a much bigger fraction of the voting population. Where 75 percent of Americans ages 55 and up were non-Hispanic Whites as of 2015, for millennials it was only about 56 percent. The shift is especially marked in such election battleground states as Florida, Arizona, and Pennsylvania. As that trend continues, the electorate is likely to favor a candidate who represents youth, change, and diversity. In the next quarter century, Kamala Harris, Pete Buttigieg, and Marco Rubio more likely fit the profile for future presidents than aging baby boomers. But for now, an experienced 70-something should do just fine.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-27--Does the U.S. Nuclear Umbrella Still Protect America’s Allies?

Does the U.S. Nuclear Umbrella Still Protect America ’ s Allies ?
This article is part of Election 2020 : What We ’ re Missing , FP ’ s series of daily takes by leading global thinkers on the most important foreign-policy issues not being talked about during the presidential election campaign .
One important consequence of the fraying of U.S. alliances over the last few years is the reemergence of concern in allied capitals about the credibility of the U.S. nuclear guarantee .
In Europe , allies wonder whether the United States would be willing to defend Poland or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ them with nuclear attack .
In Asia , China ’ s growing military might and North Korea ’ s acquisition of long-range missiles have raised similar concerns about Washington ’ s nuclear commitments .
Faced with these growing threats , can U.S. allies still rely on the United States ’ nuclear umbrella to deter an attack ?
Because the answer is no longer evident , more and more voices in allied capitals have suggested that they may need to rely on other nuclear capabilities to ensure their security—and perhaps even acquire their own @ @ @ @ @ @ @ world of rapid nuclear proliferation , the next president will have to move swiftly to reassure allies that the U.S. nuclear guarantee remains credible .
If we are to avoid a world of rapid nuclear proliferation—in which not only countries such as Iran and Saudi Arabia move to acquire nuclear weapons but also long-standing allies such as South Korea and Turkey—the next president will have to move swiftly to reassure allies that the U.S. nuclear guarantee remains credible .
Most people have forgotten that the primary proliferation concern 50 years ago wasn ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or Iran but about U.S. allies such as Germany and Japan .
In the end , both these and other allied nations were willing to forgo their own nuclear capabilities and sign on to the nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty as non-nuclear weapons states .
But they did so only after obtaining an explicit guarantee from the United States that its nuclear forces would defend their security if needed .
In the case of NATO , that guarantee was enshrined in its formal strategy , the forward deployment of U.S. nuclear weapons , the creation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the sharing of nuclear tasks and missions .
In Asia , agreements were less formal but nevertheless committed Washington to come to its allies ’ nuclear defense .
The next president needs to forestall destabilizing steps by allied nations as they rethink their nuclear security by clearly and unequivocally reaffirming that the United States ’ alliances and collective defense commitments remain central to its national security .
This affirmation must include a formal recommitment to allied nuclear security .
Words alone , however , may not be enough .
The next administration should @ @ @ @ @ @ @ allies and include them in its deliberations on nuclear strategy , deployments , and modernization .
It will also need to prioritize new nuclear arms control negotiations , starting with an extension of the New START agreement with Russia , while taking allied concerns about existing and evolving nuclear threats into account .

One important consequence of the fraying of U.S. alliances over the last few years is the reemergence of concern in allied capitals about the credibility of the U.S. nuclear guarantee. In Europe, allies wonder whether the United States would be willing to defend Poland or the Baltics if Russia were to threaten them with nuclear attack. In Asia, China’s growing military might and North Korea’s acquisition of long-range missiles have raised similar concerns about Washington’s nuclear commitments.
One important consequence of the fraying of U.S. alliances over the last few years is the reemergence of concern in allied capitals about the credibility of the U.S. nuclear guarantee. In Europe, allies wonder whether the United States would be willing to defend Poland or the Baltics if Russia were to threaten them with nuclear attack. In Asia, China’s growing military might and North Korea’s acquisition of long-range missiles have raised similar concerns about Washington’s nuclear commitments.
Faced with these growing threats, can U.S. allies still rely on the United States’ nuclear umbrella to deter an attack? Because the answer is no longer evident, more and more voices in allied capitals have suggested that they may need to rely on other nuclear capabilities to ensure their security—and perhaps even acquire their own.
If we are to avoid a world of rapid nuclear proliferation, the next president will have to move swiftly to reassure allies that the U.S. nuclear guarantee remains credible.
If we are to avoid a world of rapid nuclear proliferation—in which not only countries such as Iran and Saudi Arabia move to acquire nuclear weapons but also long-standing allies such as South Korea and Turkey—the next president will have to move swiftly to reassure allies that the U.S. nuclear guarantee remains credible.
Most people have forgotten that the primary proliferation concern 50 years ago wasn’t about Pakistan, North Korea, or Iran but about U.S. allies such as Germany and Japan. In the end, both these and other allied nations were willing to forgo their own nuclear capabilities and sign on to the nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty as non-nuclear weapons states. But they did so only after obtaining an explicit guarantee from the United States that its nuclear forces would defend their security if needed. In the case of NATO, that guarantee was enshrined in its formal strategy, the forward deployment of U.S. nuclear weapons, the creation of a nuclear planning group, and the sharing of nuclear tasks and missions. In Asia, agreements were less formal but nevertheless committed Washington to come to its allies’ nuclear defense.
The next president needs to forestall destabilizing steps by allied nations as they rethink their nuclear security by clearly and unequivocally reaffirming that the United States’ alliances and collective defense commitments remain central to its national security. This affirmation must include a formal recommitment to allied nuclear security.
Words alone, however, may not be enough. The next administration should open up its nuclear planning processes to allies and include them in its deliberations on nuclear strategy, deployments, and modernization. It will also need to prioritize new nuclear arms control negotiations, starting with an extension of the New START agreement with Russia, while taking allied concerns about existing and evolving nuclear threats into account.