Tag Archive for: Italy

Defending democracy: The case for an integrated fight against disinformation

Australia urgently needs an integrated approach to fighting disinformation, especially that involving foreign actors. Relying on isolated regulatory measures, siloed capabilities, and disparate working groups isn’t good enough.

Australia could look to international models in balancing the need for security with the protection of fundamental freedoms. This isn’t about setting up an authority to moderate content or creating a ministry of truth. It is about upgrading our institutional architecture to ensure a coordinated, comprehensive and strategic approach that leverages collective resources and expertise, enabling Australia to effectively counter the pervasive threat of disinformation while upholding democratic values.

Disinformation erodes public trust, polarises communities and destabilises democratic processes. But it’s not new. Deploying false and manipulated information has long been recognised as a crucial tactic in modern warfare. Alongside misinformation and malinformation, these tactics are often part of broader cognitive warfare strategies that can be traced back to the 18th and 19th centuries.

Modern psychological operations sow confusion in much the same way as their forbears. But the emergence of social media and the interconnectedness of global societies have amplified reach and effect of psychological operations to unprecedented levels, presenting new challenges for governments worldwide.

In Australia, where democratic values and a free press are cornerstones of society, the stakes are high, potentially swaying the outcome of elections. Studies into voter behaviour in the United States and Italy show that online disinformation has a real-world impact and could tip electoral scales. It is only a matter of time and technology before this threat becomes so sophisticated that voters might be swayed enough to topple heads of state.

If the government wants disinformation to stop, why is it taking a fragmented approach to fighting the threat? Strategy isn’t unified, education efforts are segmented, widespread public awareness is lacking, and there’s no centralised oversight of activities spanning the information environment.

This approach is inefficient and strategically ineffective. It creates gaps—such as inconsistent messaging to the public, slow responses to critical issues, and disparities in technology adoption—that could be exploited to undermine public confidence and social cohesion.

An overlapping landscape of bodies have a disinformation mandate. The Parliamentary Joint Committee on Intelligence and Security (PJCIS) mapped 24 federal departments and agencies with responsibilities and connections for countering cyber enabled foreign interference.

The Electoral Integrity Assurance Taskforce focuses on electoral disinformation; the Strengthening Democracy Taskforce works to strengthen democracy writ large; two taskforces focus on foreign interference, in which disinformation is a factor; and the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade established a counter-disinformation taskforce during the Covid-19 pandemic.

There are regulators forums, the eSafety Commissioner and the Australian Communications and Media Authority, tasked with overseeing the online misinformation code of practice.

Throw into the mix Australia’s intelligence, defence and police agencies, which bring to the challenge some of the best capabilities in the world, and the landscape starts to get increasingly crowded.

To effectively counter disinformation, Australia will need a more streamlined and integrated approach that coordinates these efforts and leverages collective strength.

I’ve previously written about the centralised approaches in France, Canada and Lithuania. In response to aggressive Russian cognitive warfare, Sweden’s Psychological Defence Agency works to lift the country’s psychological defence across all levels of government. In 2023, the United States created a federal disinformation office responsible for integrating intelligence on foreign malign influence, advancing strategic analysis and overseeing election security efforts. Meanwhile, Italy has tabled an urgent bill in parliament to establish a national cognitive security agency, and the European Union has expanded its anti-disinformation centres to cover all member countries.

What these initiatives have in common is a centralised approach to disinformation, with a focus on intelligence integration, stakeholder coordination, strategic analysis and operational development, all through a national and subnational approach. Some agencies specifically focus on election safeguards, but this isn’t the only focus—because countering disinformation threats is constant, not momentary.

Some initiatives are not without challenge. Critics are quick to cite potential overreach and privacy concerns, and the EU’s efforts have been complicated by the diverse legal and cultural landscape across member states. Australia can learn from these experiences, working to balance the need for a strong, coordinated response with the protection of individual rights and freedoms.

The idea of a lead Australian agency responsible for countering disinformation is not new. The PJCIS recommended this just last year. But the government only noted the recommendation, satisfied that the existing disparate structure and multiple coordination mechanisms were sufficient to deal with the growing threat.

While experts agree there are several components of an effective disinformation strategy—including media literacy, regulation, prebunking and algorithmic transparency—none on its own is a silver bullet. What we need is a unified national strategy that brings all the elements together, and an agency with clear responsibility working under strong ethical guidelines to prevent abuses.

Information integrity is critical to democratic resilience. The next election, due in 2025, need not be a test of our disinformation preparedness, but if no changes are made to the current approach, it unfortunately may well become one. To ensure we are adequately protected in an election year and beyond, Australia must upgrade its institutional architecture. This will not only enhance our response to emerging threats but also fortify against future attempts to undermine the very fabric of Australian society.

GCAP: a big fighter designed for Pacific (and Australian) distances

BAE Systems and its Global Combat Air Programme (GCAP) partners pulled off a coup of technology theatre at the Farnborough air show in July, unveiling a new design for their GCAP figher, in full-scale model form, that looked very different from any other existing or proposed aircraft. Surprises for the combat aircraft community included the aircraft’s size, much larger than the Typhoon or F-35 fighters, and a quite enormous, moderately swept delta wing.

GCAP is supposed to become the mainstay of Japan’s combat aircraft force after entering service in 2035, as well as the chief fighter of partners Britain and Italy. The stealthy aircraft is also a clear candidate as Australia’s next fighter.

What we see from the design is a long-range fighter that far better suits Pacific (and Australian) distances than aircraft now available, though it lacks extreme flight performance, which is looking ever less useful in air combat.

GCAP also has room for growth in capability.

The team at the air show did not disclose dimensions, and a journalist who produced a tape measure in the exhibit was, I am told, encouraged to leave at his earliest convenience. GCAP has been described as one-third bigger than Typhoon—roughly F-15 size, perhaps 20 metres long, but with a 50-degree swept classic delta wing spanning around 16.5 metres and having twice the area of the F-15’s.

GCAP leaders were firm that the model reflected the evolution of the design. The design has probably changed to meet changing requirements.

First macro-observation: the requirements are different from anything else. The last generation of European fighters were essentially F-16 or F/A-18-type fighters with added capabilities. South Korean and Turkish designs today, and the Shenyang FC-31, are US-inspired. Not so GCAP, formed to a Euro-Japanese requirement that edges towards the light-bomber end of the fighter spectrum, with an emphasis on payload and range, in a way we have not seen since the 1960s and the (much bigger) F-111.

The wing’s shape and size contribute to performance in two ways: massive fuel volume and low drag in cruising flight. Both promote range. It’s not a classic delta in the style of the Mirage III’s; it’s more like the capacious wing of the promising but never built F-16U, from 1995, or that of the Boeing X-32 contender for the Joint Strike Fighter program. The F-16U carried 80 percent more internal fuel than the standard aircraft; the X-32 wing, only half the area of the GCAP wing, could accommodate 9 tonnes of fuel, compared with 3.2 tonnes in the F-16C, for example.

The GCAP should have a usefully greater combat radius on internal fuel than most other current combat aircraft can manage with external tanks, while leaving space in the lower fuselage for weapons. That makes a lot of sense for a stealth aircraft, where fuel and bulky weapons must be carried internally.

Among the tactical opportunities of greater range is use of bases farther from the territory of the opponent–say, China. They would be more costly to attack with missiles and easier to defend.

The large span and area of the GCAP’s wing contribute to efficiency in cruising flight and good turn performance. The relative size of the engine inlets and exhausts and the smallness of the vertical stabilisers suggest that, to dominate the fight, the designers are not going for ultimate agility but are relying on sensors, long-range weapons and even teaming the fighter with uncrewed aircraft. (An aircraft this size could carry uncrewed vehicles into the fight under its wings, releasing them outside detection range.)

One wonders whether the European and Japanese planners have read the air combat study by researcher and former US Air Force pilot John Stillion, which pointed to a trend to longer-range engagements and declining instances of turning fights.

The wing sweep angle doesn’t seem to be optimised for supersonic cruise—supercruise. A fighter that can supercruise has much greater opportunity to make intercepts, but the feature has costs: it needs either an engine design that isn’t ideal for subsonic speed (one reason for the F-22’s non-stellar range) or one that has the complex and costly feature called ‘variable cycle’ (which has not been mentioned at all in the GCAP context).

Supercruise makes the airframe hot and therefore detectable, with a unique thermal signature that can be used to identify the aircraft. GCAP planners appreciate this: mindful of high-power radar-jamming from Soviet strike aircraft in the Cold War, the Royal Air Force was eager to get an infra-red search and track sensor (IRST) for the Typhoon. The one that’s on the Typhoon, the Leonardo Pirate, is as good as IRST gets, with a neural-net processor to filter false alarms.

Against such sensors, supercruising aircraft are not stealthy. That explains the apparent decision to forgo the capability.

Managing heat inside a fighter is a huge challenge. If it builds up faster than it can be dissipated through the skin, it can be stored for a while in the fuel. The Lockheed Martin F-35 program has struggled with this, but GCAP will try to get it right at the outset.

Engine company Rolls-Royce has demonstrated an embedded starter-generator and describes a system in which fuel and oil pumps are electrically driven and energy storage is provided for peak requirements. Meanwhile, the wing’s large surface area will help to offload heat without the skin getting too hot (and therefore too detectable).

Size and integrated energy and cooling will give GCAP room for growth. There is an interesting lesson here from the F-35. The JSF requirement was written when the Moore’s-law-driven development of electronics over two decades had vastly improved the F-16’s capabilities; it seemed clear that the development of electronic technology would continue, and it did. But what was not recognised was that, in a tightly packed and thermally sealed airframe, the limit on increased performance of electronics was not their volume and weight but getting rid of their heat. GCAP’s designers seem to have taken this to heart.

The power could be used in novel ways. There have been persistent reports of British work on high-power microwave (HPM) technology since the early 2000s. And Leonardo and the British Ministry of Defence expensively launched development of the latest radar for the Typhoon without foreign cooperation. A radar antenna could become an HPM weapon—and now Rolls-Royce says GCAP needs generators with the extraordinary output of around 2 megawatts. All that seems to add up to GCAP using HPM.

HPM attack can disrupt or damage radio-frequency systems—sensors and communications. HPM systems have challenges, including a risk of damaging friendly aircraft, but if they can be made to work they could be a powerful weapon for suppressing ground defences.

GCAP is different, better adapted to the Pacific than shorter-range jets, and has growth potential. As the largest Europe–Asia joint defense project and a major technological advance for all parties, the program faces challenges. But the design seen at Farnborough suggests that the requirement has been well thought through. It’s a promising start.

Presidential election could put Italy’s Draghi-led recovery at risk

As Italy scrambles to control surging Covid-19 infections—including by making vaccination compulsory for anyone over 50—cracks are appearing in the broad ruling coalition led by Prime Minister Mario Draghi. A crucial test will come next Monday, when Italy’s 630 members of parliament, 321 senators and 58 regional representatives elect a new president.

Many names have been put forward, including former prime minister Silvio Berlusconi, who appears to have the backing of the centre-right bloc, despite a long history of scandals and a tax-fraud conviction. Another leading contender is Draghi himself, who has built a strong reputation as a highly capable leader.

Following two decades of stagnation, Italy’s economic outlook is bright. After shrinking by nearly 9% in 2020, GDP grew by more than 6% in 2021, largely owing to the government’s expansionary fiscal policy, funded by the €750 billion ($1.19 trillion) Next Generation EU recovery fund.

Under the 2022 budget law, pandemic-related measures, such as income support to households, will be phased out. But welfare provisions, such as universal child allowance, will be expanded and tax-payment deferrals have been extended. So, while growth will most likely slow slightly this year, it is expected to remain robust, at about 4.3%.

It helps that consumer confidence, in particular, is at its highest level in a decade. This partly reflects strong employment growth, which has fuelled household demand, even though most new jobs are on fixed-term contracts.

But there are plenty of risks on the horizon, not least the surge in Covid-19 infections. On 11 January alone, about 220,000 new Covid-19 cases were reported. Inflation—which reached 4.2% in December—is also a concern, with rising consumer prices threatening to dampen confidence and constrain spending.

To prevent GDP growth from reverting to its historical trend, Italian policymakers will need to engineer a virtuous circle of long-term growth and investment. Fortunately, they have a head start: the EU Recovery and Resilience Facility, the centrepiece of Next Generation EU, is set to deliver to Italy €68.9 billion ($109 billion) in grants and €122.6 billion ($194 billion) in loans over the plan’s lifetime.

Between now and 2026, these funds should support the creation of up to 240,000 new jobs and a 1.5–2.5% increase in Italy’s GDP, with another 0.3 percentage points coming from the facility’s impact in other EU member states. Italy’s real GDP is expected to be about 3% higher in 2026 than it would have been without Next Generation EU.

But, to make the most of this opportunity, Italy’s leaders will have to implement a long list of reforms that has remained largely the same for the last 20 years. That means making public administration leaner and more efficient, reducing bureaucratic red tape and upgrading the tax system with clearer rules, fewer loopholes and better enforcement. A faster-moving judiciary and a fairer, more geographically and demographically skill-balanced labour market should also be top priorities.

Such interventions would go a long way toward improving Italy’s business environment. Among G7 countries, only Japan attracts less foreign direct investment.

Robust and sustainable long-term growth is a priority for any economy. But, for Italy, the imperative is almost existential. For starters, its population is ageing rapidly: the country has the world’s second-highest old-age dependency ratio.

In addition, Italy has the second-largest public-debt burden in the EU, at about 160% of GDP. To reduce this burden—which increased significantly in 2020, owing to the combination of economic contraction and fiscal expansion—the government will ultimately need to run primary budget surpluses (which exclude debt-servicing costs).

This will be no easy feat, given that the budget deficit stood at 9.4% of GDP in 2021. The government hopes to reduce it to 5.6% of GDP this year, with the primary deficit dropping to 1.2% of GDP by 2023. Achieving this—and, ultimately, a primary surplus—will depend significantly on higher tax revenues through stronger economic growth.

If the government is to implement the national recovery and resilience plan, including the relevant economic reforms, it will need to continue to inspire confidence. And that requires political stability.

What stability currently exists can be attributed largely to Draghi. He was sworn in as prime minister early last year precisely to break a protracted political deadlock. And it was under his leadership that a broad coalition drafted the national recovery plan, applied for funding and initiated its implementation.

But Draghi can remain prime minister only until the general election in March 2023, meaning that he has about a year to lay the foundations for many recovery projects. On top of this, Draghi’s broad governing coalition may not remain effective—or even intact—after the coming presidential election.

Whatever the outcome of the presidential election, will Draghi be able to create a more compact coalition, capable of implementing the national recovery plan? Would Europe continue to view Italy as a reliable partner if Berlusconi became president or if early elections produced a eurosceptic nationalist government? Can Italy forestall a new political—and, ultimately, economic—crisis?

These are some of the possible scenarios now confronting Italy and Europe. Some are low-probability, but the chance of them materialising is not zero. Next Generation EU has afforded Italy a once-in-a-generation opportunity to reset its economy. But the country’s still-tenuous political situation makes it far from clear that the government will manage to seize it.

‘Super Mario’ smashes populists

When the world shut down last year due to Covid-19, collective attention turned to the experts. Despite 10 years of fears from political scientists and newspaper columnists about the ‘rise’ or ‘dominance’ of populism at the expense of technocrats and the ‘establishment’, competent officials in many countries swiftly steered ships of state through unprecedentedly choppy waters during the pandemic. The European Union and its globalist-oriented leaders were touted as examples of how technocrats and globalists, not ‘outsider’ populists and nationalists, could save a world in flames.

This initial success begot arrogance. The EU leadership, which boasted about its early pandemic success, has eaten humble pie these past two months because of the bloc’s disastrous vaccine rollout. Only 15.6% of people in the EU have received a jab so far.

The incompetent EU rollout, however, shouldn’t boost the fortunes of anti-establishment politicians. Populist leaders, including former US president Donald Trump, Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro, Mexican President Andrés Manuel López Obrador and Belarussian President Alexander Lukashenko—all self-described populists—disastrously managed the pandemic by downplaying the virus’s severity, seeking to prematurely reopen economies despite rising infection rates, or questioning reputable medical opinions. Although Trump left the White House in January, Brazil, Mexico and Belarus still maintain high levels of infections and low levels of vaccinations, principally because of their leadership.

The incompetent EU rollout also shouldn’t lessen the power of technocrats and a globalist-minded establishment to rectify crises. Italian Prime Minister Mario Draghi, for example, has quietly and effectively bolstered the case for a technocratic government led by an experienced, well-connected statesman.

Draghi is no stranger to resurrecting entities from dire straits. When Europe confronted the financial crisis in the northern summer of 2012, Draghi as president of the European Central Bank (ECB) vowed to do ‘whatever it takes’ to preserve the euro. Through ‘sharp political instincts’, optimism and a rebuke of traditional ECB conservatism, Draghi achieved what he promised. For his triumph, he earned the sobriquet ‘Super Mario’.

This past February, Italian President Sergio Mattarella summoned ‘Super Mario’ to lead Italy after Giuseppe Conte resigned the premiership. Confronting not only an international health and economic crisis, but also spiralling public debt and slow growth, Draghi faced an uphill battle from the beginning of his tenure.

Attribute it to the ‘political honeymoon’ phase, but the Italian premier has already found success.

He has eased Italy’s fractious political system. Anti-establishment Italian political parties like Matteo Salvini’s League and Luigi Di Maio’s Five Star Movement, which have dominated national politics, joined traditional establishment parties like the Democratic Party and Forza Italia to form a government under Italy’s most established and globalist premier. Instead of beating these populist parties, Draghi has joined forces with them—and neutered their corrosive impact on Italian politics. He has also won over many of their followers; 61% of the Italian public approves of Draghi’s performance so far.

On public policy, Draghi has pushed for greater Italian support of ‘an increasingly integrated European Union’ with scant blowback from his Euro-sceptic coalition partners. He upended Italy’s slow vaccination campaign by ‘focusing on logistics and recruiting the military to help’ while dismissing two top officials who obstructed a smooth process. Despite putting Italy on a more globalist footing, Draghi criticised the bloc for not being tougher against pharmaceutical companies that evaded delivery commitments. He then triggered an EU mechanism that blocked the export of roughly 250,000 vaccines to Australia. No one in the EU contested his decision.

In doing so, Draghi achieved for Italy what other populist leaders dream of. One can only imagine the blowback an anti-establishment figure would have faced from the EU had they chosen to block the export. By being so firmly entrenched in establishment circles, Draghi was arguably the only Italian who could achieve the nationalist goal of protecting his citizens’ health at the expense of another country. Just as only Richard Nixon could go to China, only Draghi could keep vaccines in Europe.

Draghi’s establishment credentials—so often ridiculed by ‘outsider’ politicians in Italy, the United States and elsewhere—could make him a successful prime minister on three counts. First, people respect his deep intellect and experience. Second, his Rolodex bursts at the seams, allowing him to broker deals and leverage connections across the globe. Third, much like Theodore Roosevelt, Draghi ‘speaks softly and carries a big stick’. He has given few speeches or press conferences, preferring instead to keep his nose to the grindstone. In an age of ‘brand politics’, where politicians focus on their image at the expense of public policy, Draghi does something unusual: he governs.

No matter his success, Draghi will not eradicate populism. But if his government’s standard of technocratic expertise can mitigate future waves of Covid-19 and steer Italy away from a deeper recession, he will have undercut another populist revolt in Italy. In this, Draghi offers fellow Western leaders a roadmap for success in thwarting anti-establishment revivals similar to the ones that emerged in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis.

Populism, and the nationalist mindset it typically propagates, will not die. But it’s high time the ‘establishment’ stopped ridiculing political ‘outsiders’ and started focusing on what its members can do to improve the lives of their compatriots. The best case for the ‘establishment’ is not the derision of its opponents, but proof of its benefits to the average voter. If experienced leaders can achieve that, they can remind voters that the ‘establishment’ is not only needed to save a nation in crisis—it can lead well in times of stability too.

Quitaly?

Europe’s problems just seem to grow worse. The huge and continuing dislocation caused by Brexit is bad enough, but the news is also disturbing on several other fronts.

The continued weakening of Germany’s (and its chancellor’s) authority in Europe and globally as a result of the introspection and fractiousness of the new Grand Coalition (Groko) government, and concerns about Angela Merkel’s longevity, have left a vacuum where Germany’s leadership used to be. France’s President Emmanuel Macron has stepped into this breach. But he can do little without a solid partner in Germany. In any case, differences between Merkel’s and Macron’s visions for the future of Europe and the eurozone remain.

The challenge posed to the European project by the continued success of populist/nationalist governments in Europe is also growing. Germany and France (which also have to confront their own versions) now face a large group of European countries with governments that disagree quite fundamentally with the way in which Europe has evolved. They want significant changes, mainly to return sovereignty to national governments and—as they would describe it—to push back against the idea of a Europe run from Berlin.

And all of this comes at a time when the post–World War II bedrock of European security, the transatlantic alliance and the US security guarantee, appears to be crumbling. The Trump administration’s decision to impose tariffs on products from close US friends and allies in Europe has just underlined how much and how comprehensively things have now changed.

Then there’s the Putin factor, with Russia aiming to weaken Europe by fomenting disagreement, including through support for the populist/nationalist parties that are so significantly reshaping politics in the West.

But life isn’t about to get any better for the European project. The crisis has just deepened with the arrival of Italy’s new Five Star Movement (M5S)–League government and, although not quite as concerning, of a new Spanish government.

The bigger problem is Italy, a founding member of the European Union, and the eurozone’s third-largest and the world’s 12th‑largest economy, so not a small or insignificant country. Although Italy’s economy is slowly recovering, with GDP growth this year forecast at 1.5%, it faces endemic problems. To mention a few: a chaotic political system and a parliament that has generally found it impossible to implement any reform; a massive imbalance between Italy’s poor south and its wealthy north; Europe’s second-highest debt-to-GDP ratio at 132% (in absolute terms, Europe’s largest debt); 32% youth unemployment across the country, but vastly higher in the south; and serious issues with some of Italy’s banks.

Extreme popular frustration at this state of affairs, especially in southern Italy, some clever politicking by the charismatic leaders of M5S (Luigi di Maio) and the League (Matteo Salvini), and huge disappointment with the established parties are behind the success of the two groups in the new government.

M5S, a ‘movement’ (not, it has always claimed, a party) founded by comedian Beppe Grillo to give voice to popular anger, ended up as the largest single party after the elections on 4 March this year, with particularly strong support in the south.

The League was part of a centre-right group of parties that included Silvio Berlusconi’s Forza Italia and did very well in the north and centre of Italy. That’s not surprising since the party emerged from the Northern League, which advocated cutting the north away from what it considered the dead weight of southern Italy and gaining independence. This was evident when the newly appointed (League) minister for regional affairs and autonomy indicated last week that her priority was to grant autonomy to Lombardy (Milan) and the Veneto (Venice).

M5S had said it would never enter government as part of a coalition. The League professed loyalty to its centre-right grouping. Both positions were sacrificed in the interests of attaining government. On the face of it, they’re very strange bedfellows, united largely by their opposition to the established system, their very strong anti‑immigrant stance and their deep scepticism about the euro and the European Union. They have an economic policy based on tax cuts, significant financial support for the poor and big government spending, taking on more debt as necessary.

The new government’s euroscepticism, its equivocal position on the euro, its intention, contrary to eurozone rules, to spend its way to economic recovery and its quite virulent criticism of Germany’s and Brussels’ roles in Europe will all put it completely at odds with the approach taken by Merkel and Macron.

The M5S–League government is led by a complete political novice in Giuseppe Conte. But it’s hard to imagine that his two deputies—di Maio and Salvini—will give him much room for manoeuvre. Italian President Sergio Mattarella refused to accept as economics minister the notoriously anti-European Paolo Savona, who once famously described the euro as a ‘German cage’ and speculated about a ‘plan B’ of withdrawal from the euro. But Savona has been made, in yet another weird twist, minister for European affairs. And, to muddy the waters even further, the new foreign minister, Enzo Milanesi, is pro-European: he worked in Brussels and was minister for European affairs in the recent Monti and Letta governments.

According to Simon French, a business commentator, ‘Quitaly’ is the term being used on London City dealing desks to describe a potential departure by Italy from the European Monetary Union. The new government is suggesting publicly that, although it wants fundamental change, it will remain with the euro and the European Union. But given the disparity of views in Conte’s cabinet and among both M5S and League supporters, that must remain an open question, as must the longevity and fortunes of the M5S–League government.

It is just too hard to predict right now how all of this will work out. One thing is certain: it must be almost the last thing that Chancellor Merkel and President Macron (or Europe more generally) needed given everything else that’s happening. It must have been a very interesting conversation between Merkel and Conte when she rang him on 2 June to congratulate him and invite him to visit Berlin ‘as soon as possible’, no doubt to receive some clear advice.