Corruption

I didn't have a chance to comment on the revelations that foreign-policy insider Peter Galbraith received a 5 percent stake in an oil field in the Dohak region of Iraqi Kurdistan, for his role in helping the Norwegian oil company DNO negotiate drilling rights there. Galbraith was also involved in the constitutional negotiations that gave the Kurds substantial autonomy over the region and thus made the proposed deal possible, and the Times reports that he could make roughly $100 million or so for his efforts.

Not surprisingly, the exposure of Galbraith's dealings has caused some controversy in Iraq, though remarkably little in Washington  One of the Iraqi participants said "the idea that an oil company was participating in the drafting of the Iraqi Constitution leaves me speechless," and the whole business is bound to reinforce the widespread (and in my view, false) belief that the 2003 invasion of Iraq was a "war for oil. " 

Galbraith is publicly unrepentant, arguing that his deal with DNO was arranged while he was a private citizen and declaring that "What is true is that I undertook business activities that were entirely consistent with my long-held policy views. . . I believe my work with [DNO and other companies] helped create the Kurdistan oil industry which helps provide Kurdistan an economic base for the autonomy its people almost unanimously desire. . . So, while I may have had interests, I see no conflict."

Of course, as a number of other critics quickly pointed out, the problem is not that Galbraith is in line to receive millions of dollars in compensation; the problem is that he failed to disclose his financial interests while he was busy writing op-eds and articles and engaging in other public activities on behalf of Kurdish autonomy. His behavior is no different than a medical researcher who takes millions of dollars from a pharmeceutical company and then writes articles or offers expert testimony about the efficacy of that company's products. The testimony may be entirely consistent with the scientist's "long-held views," but anyone exposed to the testimony has a right to know about the potential conflict of interest.

The whole sordid business got me thinking: is there any way to clean up the marketplace of ideas here in the United States?  We are drowning in information and opinion, much of it claiming to be objective and authoritative when it may in fact be inspired and funded by moneyed special interests eager to sell the public a story that advances their particular objectives. Most "think tanks" in Washington portray themselves as objective, quasi-scholarly institutions (indeed, they increasingly give researchers endowed chairs and other quasi-academic titles), but unlike most universities, most think tanks remain heavily dependent on "soft money" and are bound to be especially sensitive to what potential donors might be thinking. And some of them aren't really scholarly at all; they are just public relations operations or "letterhead organizations" seeking to mold public opinion and push the policy process in a particular direction. But unless you know who's paying for it, it's hard to decide who's giving you an honest opinion and who is just shilling for some powerful interest group.

Can we tame this beast without infringing on free speech?

Here's a suggestion: let's start by asking participants in the war of ideas to provide a lot more information about their financial dealings. The SEC requires companies to make relevant financial information available to investors; why shouldn't those who provide information in the public arena provide a similar level of disclosure to those who "invest" in their alleged expertise? We don't have to pass a law requiring think tanks or pundits to disclose the details of their funding arrangements to the public; as a first step, we could simply rank different organizations and individuals on the level of disclosure they provide, much as other groups help potential donors rate charitable organizations on their administrative efficiency. 

For example, think tanks could be ranked according to their willingness to provide lists of their funding sources, specifying both the sources of the funding and the specific projects that the donors paid for. Wouldn't you like to know who is bankrolling the American Enterprise Institute, Cato Institute, Heritage Foundation, Center for American Progress, Washington Institute for Near East Policy, Brookings Institution, Council on Foreign Relations, Hudson Institute, Middle East Institute, Foreign Policy Initiative, Institute for the Study of War, the Federation of American Scientists, or the New America Foundation? 

Such groups shouldn't make us dig for the information; they could just put it all out on their websites. Lord knows that these groups work overtime disseminating reports, testimony, op-eds and policy memos; surely it is not too much to ask them to tell us who is providing the wherewithal. Organizations that come clean could get a 5-star rating, and journalists and citizens who get exposed to their "analysis" could attach the appropriate discount to whatever they were being fed.

Or take this idea a step further: why not ask prominent pundits and commentators to provide similar disclosure, and rate them for their transparency as well? Where do David Brooks, Juan Cole, Ann Coulter, Glenn Greenwald, Andrew Sullivan, Michael Goldfarb, Michelle Malkin, Matt Yglesias, Richard Perle, Steve Clemons, Fred Kagan, or George Will get their money? How much is salary, and how much is derived from honoraria, royalties, or consulting work? And who's paying the bills? 

Please understand that I'm not criticizing these organizations for accepting contributions from any legitimate source, and I'm not suggesting that commentators shouldn't supplement their income through various outside activities. This is America, where, making a buck is a perfectly worthy enterprise. Nor am I suggesting that think tanks and pundits are just selling their opinions to the highest bidder; more commonly, outside groups pay for someone's services because they already know what he or she thinks and they want to support it or consume it (i.e., by hiring a well-known pundit to give a talk). My point is simply that consumers of a think tank's products or a public intellectual's work have a right to know who is paying for their activities, so that they can take that fact into account.  

Nor am I proposing that full (or even partial) disclosure be a requirement for bloggers, journalists, pundits, or essayists who engage in public debate. Needless to say, that would be a gross infringement of free speech.  My proposal is much more modest: we should start asking about their sources of support, and somebody ought to keep track of how different people answer it.  Any commentator or public intellectual who wants to keep their financial information strictly private is free to do so. But if they do, then we are entitled to ask if they have something to hide, and to rank them lower than those who are willing to divulge their backers.

Am I willing to practice what I preach? Sure. For the current year, for example, about 80 percent of my income is my salary from Harvard. Harvard pays me to teach courses, advise students, administer a research program, and serve on various school committees, and it also expects me to publish research on various public policy issues. I like to think that I'm pulling my weight in each of these areas.

The remainder of my earnings comes from service as the academic consultant to the S Rajaratnam School of International Studies in Singapore, writing this blog, co-editing a book series, and assorted royalties and honoraria (mostly for giving talks or writing articles). The latter, by the way, is almost all from universities or citizens' groups, although I also got some modest compensation for participating (along with a bunch of other scholars) in a workshop series funded by the National Intelligence Council. 

So far, nobody has offered me a stake an oil-field.  If anybody does, I'll let you know right away.

Corruption now 'dominates and paralyzes the society,' David Halberstam observed. American officials perceived the problems but they could not find solutions. ... The Embassy pressed the government to remove officials known to be corrupt, but with little result. 'You fight like hell to get someone removed and most times you fail and you just make it worse,' a frustrated American explained to Halberstam. 'And then on occasions when you win, why hell, they give you someone just as bad.' The United States found to its chagrin that as its commitment increased its leverage diminished. Concern with corruption and inefficiency was always balanced by fear that tough action might alienate the government or bring about its collapse. Lodge and Westmoreland were inclined to accept the situation and deal with other problems."

Source: George C. Herring, America's Longest War: The United States in Vietnam, 1950-1975., 1st. ed., pp. 162-63. The Halberstam quotations are from his article, "Return to Vietnam," Harpers (December 1967).

One of the many dubious arguments now being invoked to justify an open-ended U.S. commitment in Afghanistan is the idea that withdrawal will damage U.S. credibility and cause other U.S. clients to doubt our staying power. It's possible that getting out would cause a few weak and vulnerable leaders to reconsider their reliance on the United States, but is that necessarily a bad thing? The United States has been obsessed with maintaining "credibility" for decades, but we tend to forget that our credibility is more our clients' problem than it is ours. That's one of the nice things about being a superpower: even when our interests are partly tied up with the fates of others, most U.S. allies need our support a lot more than we need theirs.

In the case of Afghanistan, we are fighting on behalf of a corrupt and ineffective government that has resisted repeated calls for reform. If we were to stop throwing resources at it and it subsequently collapsed, we would be sending a powerful signal to other U.S. clients around the world. The message? Don't expect Uncle Sucker to back you forever if you can't or won’t shape up. Among other things, it might have a salutary effect on the government of Pakistan, and relieve us of the burden of constantly meddling in their affairs, which only makes us less popular there. (On that front, I'm beginning to think someone ought to filch Richard Holbrooke's passport; the more he visits the region, the more the Pakistani people seem to hate us). 

Instead of signaling a loss of American will, getting out of Afghanistan would remind other governments that the United States is not a philanthropic organization. Americans are willing to support competent and effective leaders whose interests are compatible with ours, but we are not in the business of endlessly subsidizing incompetence. In other words, we would telling friends and foes that we back winners, and we aren't inclined to waste resources on losers. So if you want our help, get your act together.  What's wrong with sending that message?

Paula Bronstein /Getty Images

Talking Points Memo reports that a host of prominent right-wing pundits-- including those Very Serious People at the Weekly Standard -- could not have been more delighted when the International Olympic Committee ousted Chicago during the first round of the voting for the 2012 Olympics. When the decision was announced, the editor reported, "cheers erupted."

As readers here know, I thought it was a mistake for Obama to get involved in this issue, and I predicted that the "right-wing smear machine" would try to exploit it. But hosting the Olympics would almost certainly have been a boon for Chicago -- a great American city -- and good for the United States overall. So why were these right-wing apparatchiks cheering?

Simple. They were happy because they could not care less about the actual United States of America or ordinary American citizens: What they care about is their privileged positions, political clout, and personal income. And those things depend on trashing the Democrats and trying to get the GOP back in power no matter what it takes, which at the present means seizing any pretext to bash President Obama. So if the IOC decision makes Obama look bad, they are for it, even if it means fewer jobs for Americans in the Midwest and less prestige for the country as a whole. 

Am I being too harsh? Here’s a simple test: Have any of these organizations of individuals issued an apology for their selfish and sophomoric behavior?  The Weekly Standard removed a post from its Web site describing the cheers that filled their offices when Chicago lost, but that's a sign of embarrassment, not remorse. Right-wing gasbag Rush Limbaugh was openly unrepentant, saying, "For those of you ... who are upset that I sound gleeful, I am. I don't deny it. I'm happy."

So the next time you see or hear William Kristol or Rush Limbaugh wrapping themselves in the flag and waxing eloquent about how much they love "America," just remember: They were happy when the United States lost.

Bill Pugliano/Getty Images

Riffing on Greenwald, Andrew Sullivan nails it:

Late empires are known for several things: a self-obsessed, self-serving governing class, small over-reaching wars that bankrupt the Treasury, debt that balloons until retreat from global power becomes not a choice but a necessity, and a polity unable to address reasonably any of these questions -- or how the increasing corruption of the media enables them all.

Obama is, in some ways, a test-case.

He was elected on a clear platform of reform and change; and yet the only real achievement Washington has allowed him so far is a massive stimulus package to prevent a Second Great Depression (and even on that emergency measure, no Republicans would support him). On that he succeeded. But that wasn't reform; it was a crash landing after one of the worst administrations in America's history.

Real reform -- tackling health care costs and access, finding a way to head off massive changes in the world's climate, ending torture as the lynchpin of the war on terror, getting out of Iraq, preventing an Israeli-led Third World War in the Middle East, and reforming entitlements and defense spending to prevent 21st century America from becoming 17th Century Spain: these are being resisted by those who have power and do not want to relinquish it -- except to their own families and cronies.

Nepotism is part of the problem; media corruption is also part; the total uselessness of the Democratic party and the nihilism of the Republicans doesn't help. But something is rotten in America at this moment in time; and those of us who supported Obama to try and change this decay and decline should use this fall to get off our butts and fight for change."

Wish I'd said that. And it makes me wonder: would Obama agree with the above (meaning he is a reluctant prisoner of well-entrenched interests), or is he is part of the problem too?

GABRIEL BOUYS/AFP/Getty Images

I've been studying politics a long time now, and there are still lots of things about it that at some level I just don't get. I'm not saying that I have no idea why these things occur or suggesting that they are totally inexplicable. I'm just saying that I still find them a bit baffling.

So I made a list, and thought I'd share a few of them. Maybe some of you will share my confusion.

1. I've never really understood why plenty of smart people think the United States still needs thousands of nuclear weapons (or ever did). I'm familiar with the abstract theology of nuclear weapons policy and I don't favor total nuclear disarmament, but the case for an arsenal of more than a few hundred weapons eludes me. See here or here for convincing arguments to this effect.

2. I'm still puzzled by why Americans are so willing to spend money on ambitious overseas adventures, and yet so reluctant to pay taxes for roads, bridges, better schools, and health care here in the United States. My fellow Americans, where's your sense of entitlement? And frankly, I’m also surprised that the U.S. armed forces haven't put up more resistance to the seemingly open-ended missions they keep getting handed by ambitious politicians. I can think of various reasons why they remain willing to make these sacrifices (it's a volunteer force, there’s a long tradition of civilian authority, our soldiers, sailors and airman are dedicated patriots, the top brass are often chosen for their political malleability, etc.), but it still surprises me.

3. I don't understand why many people think invoking God is a compelling justification for their particular policy preferences, and why they assume that this move is a trump card that ends all discussion. The idea that Jehovah, Jesus, Allah, Odin, or Whomever gave some people permanent title to some patch of land, dictated how men and women should relate to each other for all eternity, or provided the incontestable answer to ANY public policy question is simply beyond me. Yet it remains a common feature of political discourse at home and abroad. Weird.

4. I'm equally baffled by when someone invokes "history" to justify a territorial claim and assumes that this basis is unchallengeable. This view assumes that sovereignty over some area is infinitely inheritable (no matter what has happened in the interim), ignores the fact the borders have changed a lot over time, and further assumes that there's only one version of history that matters. I understand why Serbs invoke the Battle of Kosovo in 1389 to justify their current claims to control that region, why Israelis and Palestinians invoke different readings of history to justify their positions on Jerusalem, or why certain Asian states invoke different historical claims to assorted rocks in the South China Sea -- they are all looking for some way to persuade others to let them have what they want. What's odd is that people who make such claims tend to think their view is simply incontestable and other equally valid historical claims aren’t worth paying attention to. You're entitled to your version of history, I suppose, but why do you assume that anyone is going to be persuaded by it?

5. I do not understand why Americans are so susceptible to the self-interested testimony of foreigners who want to embroil us in conflicts with some foreign government that they happen to dislike. A case in point would be Iraqi exile Ahmad Chalabi, who sold a lot of fairy tales to the Bush administration prior to the 2003 invasion. As Machiavelli (himself an exile) warned in The Discourses: "How vain the faith and promises of men who are exiles from their own country. .. Such is their extreme desire to return to their homes that they naturally believe many things that are not true, and add many others on purpose; so that with what they really believe and what they say they believe, they will fill you with hopes to that degree that if you attempt to act on them, you will incur a fruitless expense, or engage in an undertaking that will involve you in ruin."  This sort of thing goes back to the Peloponnesian Wars (at least), and you’d think we’d have learned to be more skeptical by now.

6. I certainly don't get the business model that informs the content of the Wall Street Journal's op-ed page. The rest of the newspaper is an excellent news source, with reportage that is often of very high quality. The editorial page, by contrast, is often a parody of right-wing lunacy: the last refuge of discredited neoconservatives, supply-siders, and other extremists. Do the Journal's editors really think democracy is best served by offering the public such a one-sided diet of opinion? Do they feel no responsibility to offer a wider range of views to their readers, as the rival Financial Times does? More importantly, wouldn't their market share (and profits) be increased if they offered a more diverse range of views? I'm equally puzzled by the op-ed page of the Washington Post: what's the business model that says cornering the market on tired neoconservative pundits is the best way to attract new readers? (FP is now owned by the Post corporation too, I might add, but anyone who follows this Web site knows that there isn't any discernible party line here.)

7. A related point: I can't figure out why newspapers aren't hiring more bloggers to write columns for them on a regular basis. I started reading blogs because the stuff I read on the web tends to be smarter, funnier, better researched, and more entertainingly written than the pablum that appears on the op-ed pages of most newspapers. A lot of bloggers seem to produce more material too; frankly, doing a column twice a week sounds almost leisurely compared to what some bloggers pound out. There are dull bloggers and some excellent mainstream print pundits, of course, but I'm amazed that more bloggers aren't breaking into the so-called big-time mainstream media. Probably another good reason why newspapers are dying.
 
8. In an era where the United States is facing BIG problems at home or abroad, it is both puzzling and disheartening to observe the amount of ink and airspace devoted to the Skip Gates arrest, Michael Jackson's demise, or the "birther" controversy. But then I didn't get the Princess Di phenomenon or the whole reality-TV thing either.

9. I don't understand why academics defend the institution of tenure so energetically, and then so rarely use it for its intended purpose (i.e., to permit them to tackle big and/or controversial subjects without worrying about losing their jobs) When it comes to politics at least, the Ivory Tower seems increasingly populated by methodologically sophisticated sheep.

10. I'm both amused and annoyed by the highly intrusive security procedures that now exist at airports, which are almost certainly not cost-effective. The key to preventing another 9/11 wasn’t to have us all removing our shoes or carrying shampoo in a plastic bag; the key to preventing another 9/11-style attack was to put locks on the cockpit doors, so terrorists couldn't gain control of the airplane and turn it into a weapon. (A smarter Middle East policy wouldn't hurt either). I'll concede that additional screening is probably preventing a few additional incidents, but I question whether the extra expense and inconvenience is ultimately worth it. Alas, nobody is going to relax those procedures now, because they’d worry about being blamed the next time someone managed to blow up an airliner. I understand the CYA impetus that will keep these procedures in place from now until doomsday, but the irrationality of it all annoys me every time I fly.  

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One of the supposed virtues of democracy is the idea that free speech fosters a “marketplace for ideas.”  In theory, free and open discussion of vital public issues is supposed to winnow out ill-conceived notions and produce more sensible policy outcomes.  This benefit will be compromised when certain topics become taboo, however, or when specific institutions or dogmas become so well-entrenched in the political mainstream that anyone who questions them is easily marginalized.  When that happens, skeptics who would like to rise within the establishment will be deterred from raising their voices, and public debate will become truncated.  What John Kenneth Galbraith dubbed the “conventional wisdom” will tend to go unchallenged, and mistakes may get repeated instead of corrected.

What are some “taboo” subjects in contemporary foreign policy discourse?  To say that a particular topic is “taboo” doesn’t mean that nobody ever raises the issue or challenges the reigning orthodoxy; it just means that doing so is understood to be politically risky, especially for anyone who wants an influential place in the foreign affairs establishment.  So what are the topics or policy positions that a smart young foreign policy analyst should stay away from, especially if she is worried about getting elected, surviving a confirmation hearing, or landing a big job inside-the-Beltway?  

One might call them the “Ten Commandments for Ambitious Foreign Policy Wonks”

#1. Thou Shalt Not Question U.S. Membership in NATO.  For decades now, questioning the U.S. commitment to NATO immediately made one suspect in the U.S. foreign policy establishment.  This was certainly true during the Cold War, and it remains mostly true today.  It’s ok to criticize specific NATO policies or can to chide our European allies for free-riding, and there are a handful of people who have openly questioned whether NATO could or should continue now that USSR is gone.  But it’s still a sacred cow in the foreign affairs establishment, and you aren’t likely to advance your career by being an outspoken advocate of an American withdrawal.

#2. Thou Shalt Oppose the Spread of Nuclear Weapons.  Although a number of academics have debated whether the slow spread of nuclear weapons might have salutary effects in certain contexts, I can’t think of anyone in the policy establishment who has endorsed that view, even though the United States has turned a mostly-blind eye to nuclear acquisition on a number of occasions in the past.

#3. Thou Shalt Not Question the Need for a Nuclear Deterrent.  This contradicts the 2nd Commandment, but what's a little hypocrisy when you're a great power?  Americans think other states shouldn’t get nuclear weapons, but most people in the foreign policy establishment don’t think the United States should give them up.  It is permissible to question specific aspects of U.S. nuclear weapons policy, and plenty of people openly support various forms of arms control.   But questioning whether the United States needs a sizeable nuclear arsenal or advocating total disarmament will make people wonder if you’re tough enough to be a serious foreign policy player.  

There are two exceptions to this commandment, by the way.  First, Presidents can always declare that their long-term goal is eliminating nuclear weapons (as Obama recently did), provided they don’t actually do it.  Second, former officials who no longer have major career ambitions can get religion late in life and advocate disarmament, even if this is a position they would have steadfastly opposed while in office.

#4. Thou Shalt Not Question the Desirability of American Primacy.  For over half a century, a core principle of American grand strategy has been to retain what the Truman administration called a “preponderance of power” in America’s favor.  Scholars have sometimes debated whether “primacy matters,” but nobody ever runs for President promising to “make America Number Two,” and nobody who wants to rise in the foreign policy establishment should ever suggest that maybe the United States might be better off if it weren’t so dominant.  (I happen to like U.S. primacy myself, but I wish the topic got debated a bit more often).

#5: Thou Shalt Not Call For an Accommodation with Cuba (or North Korea, or Iran, or….).  The long-standing embargo against Cuba has been a near-total failure, but until very recently, it’s been hard to find any prominent voices favoring a different approach.  There have been a few lonely voices calling for change in the past, but the anti-Castro status quo has been the default position for a long time.  And the same principle applies to other states that land on the U.S. blacklist, like Saddam’s Iraq, North Korea, or Gaddafi’s Libya (until recently).  Even if it might make sense to reach out to them, most people in the policy establishment will be afraid to even suggest it, for fear of being seen as “soft” or “unsound.”  That’s why it took a hardine Cold Warrior like Nixon to make the opening to China, and even he had to do it secretly at first.  And this commandment comes with an additional clause:
#5A: The Chamberlain Corollary: Under no circumstances should one
use the word “appeasement,” except as an accusation directed at ones’ political opponents.

#6: Thou Shalt Not Criticize the Council on Foreign Relations, the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, IISS, Brookings, or other major foreign policy institution.  It is entirely legitimate to disagree with an article in Foreign Affairs, or to take issue with the views of a senior fellow at one of these institutions.   But if you suggest that such institutions are too dependent on soft money, too conventional in their thinking, and on balance harmful to U.S. interests, you’ll probably get labeled a Chomskyite leftist or something equally marginal, even if you were making a serious argument backed with evidence.  This taboo isn’t surprising, of course, it doesn’t make much sense to criticize key pillars of the foreign affairs establishment while trying to rise within them. And by the way: the same taboo applies to the foundations that fund research in this area: try criticizing their funding practices and see if you get that next grant.

#7:  Thou Shalt Not Take the Armed Forces’ Name in Vain.  Since 9/11, pious declarations of support for the uniformed military have been de rigueur for policymakers and pundits alike.  One can question certain aspects of U.S. military strategy, second-guess decisions by commanders, and challenge U.S. defense priorities, but you’d better not criticize the troops themselves.  Among other things, this makes it harder to have a serious debate about veterans’ benefits, friendly-fire incidents, or troop misconduct.   Don’t get me wrong: I’m grateful for the sacrifices that many officers, enlisted men, and reservists have made in recent years, and I think they deserve our thanks.  But no institution should be immune from criticism, even when there’s a war on.

#8: Thou Shalt Acknowledge the Importance of Human Rights, Democracy, and Other American “Values.”  You don’t have to be an outspoken advocate of human rights to succeed in Washington, and you can even take the position that human rights considerations sometimes have to give way to other foreign policy goals.  But anyone who argued that human rights should be ignored would quickly find themselves outside the political mainstream.  Similarly, scholars can argue that democracies are just as ruthless when waging war as dictatorships are, but aspiring policymakers are safer taking the position that democracies are always more virtuous than their authoritarian counterparts.

#9: Thou Shalt Not Question the Right of the United States to Intervene in Other Countries.   Foreign policy elites in the United States routinely declare that the United States is committed to international law and is a principled supporter of the UN Charter, and we are quick to condemn most other countries when they use force in violation of these principles.  But the United States has a long record of using military force against countries or regimes that it opposes, and voices challenging this basic principle tend to be few and far-between.  So when the Bush administration was mobilizing the country for war with Iraq, only a handful of people objected on the grounds that the war was simply illegal.  Instead, liberal inteventionists came up with elaborate legal and moral justifications for it.  If you do take issue with this idea, you’ll probably get labeled an idealistic leftwinger and your career prospects will correspondingly diminish.  Of course, a realist like me isn’t surprised when great powers don’t feel especially bound by the fine points of international law, but I do wish we were less hypocritical about it.

#10: Thou Shalt Not Favor Negotiating with “Terrorists.”   U.S. leaders often say that we will not negotiate with terrorists, and we refuse to have direct dealings with groups like Hamas (among others).  Accordingly, anyone who openly calls for talking directly with these groups is taking a professional risk.  Of course, the truth is that many countries—including the United States--have negotiated with terrorist organizations in the past, and a number of former terrorists (e.g., Yasser Arafat, Gerry Adams, Yitzhak Shamir, etc.) have been welcomed to the White House.  For that matter, the United States has even supported “terrorist” organizations when it was thought to be in our interest to do so.  Yet the whole issue about whether we ought to talk to such groups remains something of a taboo, which means that potentially fruitful initiatives don’t get the consideration they deserve.  

These ten items aren't the only topics where public debate tends to be constrained, and perhaps readers will write in with suggestions of their own.  I’d just make two final comments.   

First, my point is not that the “conventional wisdom” is necessarily wrong, or that anyone who challenges one of the taboos listed above is necessarily right.  In other words, I am not saying that the U.S. should get rid of its nuclear weapons, talk to Al Qaeda, abandon all concern for human rights, ban all think tanks with an office in DC, etc.  Rather, my point is that these are topics that where discourse is narrower than it ought to be, and where the “marketplace of ideas” may not be operating very efficiently.  The rise of the blogosphere may be bringing more voices to the broader conversation, but those contributions don’t necessarily include people who also aspire to actual policy work.

Second, although remaining within the mainstream consensus is probably the safe strategy, challenging the conventional wisdom sometimes yields big personal benefits.  Back in 2002, most people in American foreign policy establishment—and especially those working inside-the-Beltway--decided to go along with the Bush administration’s plan to invade Iraq.  Most Congressional Democrats backed the idea, and so did a lot of liberal pundits and policy wonks at places like Brookings.

But guess what?  An obscure State Senator from Illinois opposed the decision for war, and taking what was then an unconventional position is one reason that Barack Obama is President today.  The lesson?  Challenging the reigning orthodoxy—and even tilting against a taboo—is sometimes good for the country, and it can be good for your career too.   In other words, don’t treat those “commandments” as if they’re etched in stone.

The United States has the world's largest economy (so far), and the world's most powerful conventional military forces. It spends about as much on national security than the rest of the world combined, and nearly nine times more than the No. 2 power (China). It has several thousand operational nuclear weapons, each substantially more powerful than the bombs that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. America is further protected from conventional military attack by two enormous oceanic moats, there no great powers in the Western hemisphere, and it hasn’t been invaded since the War of 1812. (A few southerners may want to challenge that last statement, but I'm not going to get into that).

9/11 reminded us American security is not absolute, of course, and the strategic advantages I just outlined are no defense against climate change, pandemic disease, or financial collapse. But surely the United States is about as secure as any great power in modern history. Yet Americans continue to fret about national security, continue to spend far more on national security than any other country does, and continue to believe that our way of life will be imperiled if we do not confront an array of much weaker foes on virtually every continent.

One reason Americans exaggerate security fears is the existence of an extensive cottage industry of professional threatmongers, who deploy a well-honed array of arguments to convince us that we are in fact in grave danger. (The United States is hardly the only country that does this, of course, but the phenomenon is more evident here because its overall strategic position is so favorable). Debunking these claims is easier once you know the basics, so I hereby offer as a public service:

The Threatmonger's Handbook:
(Or, How to Scare Your Fellow Citizens for Fun and Profit.)

Rule #1: Emphasize that small decisions can mark the difference between victory or defeat.

The core logic of threatmongering depends on convincing others that world is highly elastic; that very small policy changes will have dramatic effects on one’s overall position. Threatmongers argue that cancelling some weapons system or failing to take action against some minor danger may leave you vulnerable to a devastating attack. At the same time, spending just a bit more or taking aggressive action now will cause potential threats to dissipate and guarantee security for years to come.

Rule #2: "Everything is connected."

This principle is a corollary to Rule #1: a good threatmonger wants to convince you that events in one area will have far-reaching effects everywhere else. They portray a world where credibility is fragile, where dominos fall easily and where one's allies will be quick to jump on the enemy's bandwagon after a single setback. By the same logic, threatmongers promise that success in one place will quickly lead to further triumphs elsewhere. During the Vietnam War, threatmongers predicted that defeat there would lead to dominos falling all across Southeast Asia and undermine U.S. alliances all over the world (which of course didn't happen). More recently, the architects of the Iraq war argued that toppling Saddam would trigger a wave of democratic transformations across the Middle East and put dictators on notice elsewhere. In a world where everything is connected to everything else, there are no minor problems and nothing can be safely ignored.

Rule #3: Emphasize threats that are inherently impossible to measure.

This principle was the essence of McCarthyism: his claim that communists were infiltrating the U.S. government was impossible to disprove with 100 percent confidence, and it made many Americans fear that a vast network of subversives were secretly at work across the entire country. The problem is that there's no way to know for certain if his accusations were true or not: that flag-waving Boy Scout next door might have been an especially cunning Marxist-Leninist with a truly effective disguise. Today, threatmongers try to scare us by portraying all Muslims as potential subversives, and by suggesting that Western civilization itself is under siege from immigration, the internet, cyberterrorism, or some other covert form of infiltration. And don't forget Rule 3A: when an alleged threat is easy to measure and not really that serious, just classify the information so that nobody finds out.

Rule #4: Portray allies as a liability rather than as an asset.

States normally seek allies in order to pool their assets and make both more secure. Threatmongers see this differently: the more allies you have, the more interests that must be protected and the greater your security requirements actually become. Logically, U.S. defense requirements should be lower because we are allied to some of the world's wealthiest and well-armed states. But the logic of threatmongering suggests the opposite conclusion: as the United States recruits an ever-increasing network of allies, it has to defend more and more places and must therefore worry about an ever-widening array of problems.

Rule #5: Whenever possible, depict opponents as part of a strong and highly cohesive movement, and preferably one united by strong ideological convictions.

This is the flip side of Rule #4: our allies are weak and feckless, but our opponents are always strong, cunning, resolute, and well-organized. During the Cold War, the enemy was "monolithic communism," an image that downplayed the deep schisms within the communist world. Under Bill Clinton, the danger was a motley collection of "rogue states" whose combined capabilities were a tiny fraction of our own and who weren't even in cahoots with one another. George W. Bush went one step further, and placed Saddam Hussein's Iraq, the Islamic Republic of Iran, and North Korea in a mythical  "axis of evil." Today, other threatmongers rail about the looming danger of "Islamofascism," thereby suggesting that all Islamic groups are part of some vast and well-organized conspiracy. In all these cases, the same basic principle is used to make dangers look bigger than they really are.

Rule #6: "We must act now!"

To a skilled threatmonger, trends are always against us and time is always short. If we do not act soon, we are told, the window of opportunity will close and our security will be compromised forever. This is the mindset that drove Germany's decision to provoke World War I and led the Bush administration to attack Iran in 2003, and those now favor military action against Iran invoke essentially the same logic. They've forgotten Bismarck's warning: preventive war "is committing suicide for fear of death."

Rule #7: Always describe opponents as irrational, unalterably aggressive, and impossible to deter.

If the enemy is aggressive, irrational, and willing to run great risks, then it will take overwhelming superiority to deter them and even that may not be enough. In fact, if the adversary is as nasty as the threatmongers say, then deterrence or containment probably won't work and war is probably inevitable. And if war is going to occur sooner or later, we should look for a favorable opportunity to take them out first. Kenneth Pollock of the Brookings Institution used Rule #7 to perfection in his 2002 book The Threatening Storm, thereby helping convince potentially skeptical liberals that invading Iraq was a good idea.

Rule #8:  When it comes to national security, there is no such thing as opportunity costs.

The goal of threatmongering is to convince a country to spend more money on defense or to undertake more aggressive actions in the name of national security. Leaders or citizens may object if they think such a policy might entail real costs or require genuine tradeoffs, so skilled threatmongers often argue that increased military spending will be cost-free (for example, by claiming it will stimulate the economy and create jobs), or by suggesting that military action in one arena will produce lots of positive externalities elsewhere (see Rule #2). At the same time, they will downplay the possibility that military action lead to a costly quagmire or make it impossible to take action elsewhere (see under: Iraq). 

Rule #9: Assume that opponents are able to do anything they say they want to do.

One easy way to scare people is to look at your enemies' wildest dreams and assume that they have the capacity to actually bring them about.  During the Cold War, threatmongers studied Soviet military writings and argued that the most fantastic Soviet battle plans were an accurate measure of what the Red Army could actually accomplish, even though there were sound military reasons to reject that assessment. Or they took the rabble-rousing rhetoric of revolutionary leaders at face value and assumed that it would be as easy to spread revolution as these radicals thought. Today, threatmongers tell us that Osama bin Laden wants to topple governments throughout the Islamic world and eventually restore the medieval caliphate, even though he is as likely to achieve that goal as I am to win the Wimbledon singles title or make the finals on American Idol. It obviously makes sense to know what an adversary’s objective might be, but only a dedicated threatmonger equates desires with actual capabilities.  

And don't forget Rule 9B (the Cheney Corollary): if there is a one percent chance that some bad thing might happen, act as if it is a 100 percent certainty. A purer illustration of threatmongering would be difficult to find.

Rule#10: When challenged, immediately question your critics' patriotism, credentials, or seriousness.

Nothing can disarm critics who claim that the nation is needlessly squandering blood or treasure more effectively than accusing them of being unpatriotic, naïve, excessively idealistic, or insufficiently "serious." And if that doesn't work, bring up Neville Chamberlain.

These tried-and-true methods do not work all of the time, of course, but they are undeniably effective. This is partly because a few leaders turn out to be hard to deter, sometimes seemingly minor events do have large consequences, and losing a war or being forced to compromise with an adversary is never a pleasant experience. In short, there are good reasons for any country to national security seriously, which is why realists like me oppose pacifism, radical disarmament, or reflexive appeasement. But squandering resources is never a good idea, and exaggerating dangers can be as harmful to a state's long-term interests as understating them, especially when it leads to wars of choice that turn out badly. So when you see arguments like this being used to justify hawkish policies, hang onto your skepticism (and your wallet).

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