Tag Archive for: Joe Biden

A Biden return to Obama’s cautious China policies would be a big mistake

When Joe Biden made his first speech as president-elect of the United States, he declared that a revived America would ‘lead not by the example of our power, but by the power of our example’. For Americans who believed Donald Trump’s antics debased the office of the president, Biden’s pledge to restore Washington’s moral leadership would have offered much relief by evoking comfortable images of American exceptionalism. But those very images of a moralistic and restrained United States, while welcome domestically and perhaps in Europe, won’t help an Indo-Pacific grappling with the challenges posed by an increasingly aggressive People’s Republic of China.

The Indo-Pacific is a politically diverse, multipolar region whose constituent governments, by and large, want to retain their sovereignty and avoid falling under Beijing’s orbit. That requires an interested, engaged America that can act as a backstop against China’s military expansionism.

Though Trump’s personal bombast and antipathy for alliances rubbed some world leaders up the wrong way, his administration’s willingness to use American power sent an important message. Bilahari Kausikan, former permanent secretary of the Singaporean ministry of foreign affairs, outlined the case in a recent article for Nikkei Asia. ‘Trump understood power, albeit instinctively’, Kausikan observed. Whereas Barack Obama failed to enforce his ‘red line’ over Bashar al-Assad’s grotesque use of chemical weapons against his own people, Trump ‘bombed Syria … while at dinner with Xi Jinping’. The episode ‘did much to restore the credibility of American power’, Kausikan argued, for the simple reason that Trump had shown Beijing, rather conspicuously, that Washington’s red lines again meant something. That message likely offered some reassurance to a region facing China’s grey-zone coercion in the South China Sea.

To be fair, Biden hasn’t yet been given an opportunity to back up his rhetoric with demonstrations of American power. And the Biden campaign’s rhetoric has been appropriately tough. Jeffrey Prescott and Ely Ratner, two key advisers on the Biden campaign, argue that he ‘will rally the free world and mobilize half the world’s economy to hold Beijing to account for its trade abuses’.

Michèle Flournoy, who’s likely to be Biden’s defence secretary, believes that the US military will need reinvigoration so that it can ‘sink all of China’s military vessels, submarines, and merchant ships in the South China Sea within 72 hours’. Biden himself has even called Xi a ‘thug’. These are promising rhetorical signs that a Biden administration won’t be as reluctant as Obama’s to counter Chinese aggression.

That said, the actions of the Biden team since the election suggest that the new administration may not walk the talk. The first sign was Biden’s apparent unwillingness to follow the Trump administration’s precedent by accepting a congratulatory phone call from Taiwanese president Tsai Ing-wen. Taiwan’s foreign minister, Joseph Wu, explained that Taipei had been working with Biden’s team on ways to ensure that Tsai’s congratulations were formally passed on to the president-elect. The result was a phone call between Taipei’s Washington envoy Bi-khim Hsiao and Biden foreign policy adviser (and the man who’ll reportedly be secretary of state) Antony Blinken, effectively downgrading US–Taiwan ties.

Rhetoric and phone calls aside, more insight into how Biden might approach China is likely to come from his picks for senior foreign policy roles. As Thomas Wright argued in an article for the Lowy Institute, the foreign policy advisers who will likely take key positions in a Biden administration can be divided into two camps: the ‘restorationists’ and the ‘reformers’.

‘Restorationists’ admire the judiciousness with which Obama deployed military force, assign similar weight to transnational threats and geopolitical competition in the conduct of American statecraft, and believe in America’s resilience as a great power. ‘Reformers’ believe that America needs to play a more active role in protecting its economic interests and cooperating with other countries, particularly democracies, to out-compete rising powers like China.

The most notable restorationist is Susan Rice, who was in the running to be Biden’s secretary of state but did not get the nod. This will be welcome news to Asia hands. Numerous commentators have argued that Rice’s appointment to any senior role would be poorly received across the Indo-Pacific, especially in Japan, due to her reportedly weak grasp of regional issues.

Another restorationist is John Kerry, who has just been selected as Biden’s presidential envoy for climate change. Given China’s status as the world’s largest polluter, Kerry’s job will be to find ways of working with Beijing in order to secure a meaningful multilateral deal on climate change. Whether Kerry’s bid to cooperate with Beijing will come at the cost of some of Biden’s more competitive policies will depend on how effective other members of Biden’s team are at getting the president’s ear.

That’s where the reformers come in. Kurt Campbell is probably the best-known reformist in the Biden camp, having been the architect of Obama’s ‘pivot to Asia’ strategy. Campbell has long argued that the US needs to develop a coherent strategy to out-compete China militarily, diplomatically and economically. Campbell’s views, along with his considerable expertise and connections in the region, would make him welcome in most Indo-Pacific capitals. However, his name, hasn’t arisen much in press speculation about Biden’s possible senior appointments. Even if other reformers, like Ely Ratner and Jeffrey Prescott, take reasonably important roles in the national security bureaucracy, it seems unclear just how much influence the group will have with the president.

Sitting between the restorationists and reformers is Antony Blinken, who has been announced as Biden’s pick for secretary of state. Blinken seems to have developed a stronger appetite for competition than other Obama-era figures, but wants to work with Beijing to ensure that these competitive dynamics don’t escalate into confrontation. The task for Blinken will be to strike the right balance and ensure that the Biden administration doesn’t revert to the old norm of US diplomacy that privileges cooperation with China over competition.

Important though foreign policy cliques may be, domestic challenges are likely to take up considerable bandwidth in the Biden White House. In this respect, the writings and ambitions of Jake Sullivan, Biden’s pick for national security adviser, are particularly revealing. A former foreign policy hand in the Obama administration, Sullivan has been vocal in arguing that American foreign policy needs to better address the country’s internal needs, and he was reportedly more interested in a domestic policy role during the campaign. Given the weight of America’s problems at home, ranging from the coronavirus to a burgeoning national debt, it seems likely that Sullivan will ensure Biden’s key foreign policy decisions are better aligned with America’s domestic priorities.

Joe Biden may prove to be a president who takes a tough-minded approach to China that is supported by a well-executed and competitive strategy. Yet, what emerges from a preliminary look at the Biden transition is an administration that looks similar to Barack Obama’s—risk-averse and preoccupied by domestic concerns. For Americans who want to see a divided (and sick) nation heal, that may be just what the doctor ordered. But for countries in the Indo-Pacific that are living under the shadow of an increasingly aggressive Beijing, reviving the Obama administration’s overly cautious approach would be a bad outcome.

America can’t just lead by the power of its example. It also needs to lead by the example of its power.

Joe Biden’s world order

In less than four years, outgoing US President Donald Trump has achieved what, historically, only devastating wars had done: recasting the global order. With his isolationism, wannabe authoritarianism and sheer capriciousness, Trump gleefully took a sledgehammer to the international institutions and multilateral organisations his predecessors had built from the ashes of World War II and maintained ever since. What now?

Many hope that, when President-elect Joe Biden takes over, liberal international arrangements can be salvaged, and even renewed. That would certainly be desirable. Unfortunately, it is an unrealistic hope. A post-Trump order appears to be more about a return to the inter-bloc competition of 1945 than to post–Cold War liberal euphoria.

For starters, the Biden administration will be consumed by the daunting tasks of healing the domestic wounds that Trump has inflicted and correcting America’s critical weaknesses, laid bare by the pandemic. The US’s recovery from the most divisive presidency in its history will be neither quick nor painless. Reforming America is a prerequisite to restoring its capacity for global leadership.

Even if Biden’s administration had infinite capacity, there would be no turning back the clock. The status quo ante sprang from a kind of post–Cold War euphoria, animated by the belief that Western liberal democracy had secured a definitive victory over the rest, and the world had reached, in Francis Fukuyama’s famous formulation, ‘the end of history’.

In the 1990s and 2000s, when the United States was the world’s unrivalled economic, military and diplomatic power, the logic of liberal hegemony was compelling. But, in today’s rapidly changing multipolar world, it no longer is. This has been true for more than a decade, which is why the US was retreating from global leadership long before Trump took office.

Although Trump’s isolationism is often portrayed as anomalous, it reflects a strain of American thought stretching back to the country’s founding. Had German submarines not attacked American merchant ships in 1917, the US may well have stayed out of World War I.

Likewise, it was only when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor in December 1941 that the US entered World War II. And after the war, US efforts to preserve peace (by deploying troops) and restore prosperity in Europe (by implementing the Marshall Plan) were driven by fears of Soviet expansion, not some sense of moral duty.

It was also in America’s interest that Trump’s predecessor, Barack Obama, in whose administration Biden served as vice president, and even George W. Bush before him, took steps to scale back US foreign policy’s hegemonic project. Like Trump, both Obama and Bush voiced frustration about inadequate burden-sharing by America’s NATO allies.

The US retreat from hegemony reflects history that Biden can’t undo: America’s loss of credibility as a result of its long, costly and inconclusive Middle East wars, and the 2008 global financial crisis, which exposed the downside of globalisation and the shortcomings of neoliberal orthodoxy. Far from fulfilling the promise of broadly shared prosperity, it became clear, the free-market ethos of the last few decades had facilitated the emergence of obscene inequalities and the collapse of the middle class.

This combination of never-ending war and rising inequality fuelled the nationalist backlash that propelled Trump to victory in November 2016. The same frustrations were reflected in the United Kingdom’s Brexit vote that June, France’s ‘yellow vest’ protests in 2018, and even the Covid-19 crisis.

A pandemic would seem like an unmissable opportunity for cooperation. Yet it has been met with border closures and competition over supplies and future vaccine doses, not to mention curbs on civil liberties and expansion of surveillance capabilities, including in democracies. Simply put, just when we need global cooperation the most, our broken multilateral system has driven us back to the bosom of the nation-state.

So, the world seems to be returning to a Westphalian order, in which sovereignty prevails over international rules. Trump’s ‘America first’ stance fits neatly within such an order. And while China touts international cooperation in some realms, multilateralism is a fundamentally alien concept to it. It would oppose the revival of a world order based on liberal precepts. Other big nationalist powers (such as Brazil, India, Russia and Turkey) and smaller ones in Eastern Europe (Hungary and Poland) move broadly within the same illiberal realm.

The Biden administration should aspire to lead the world’s democracies in their competition with a rising authoritarian bloc, while upholding the multilateral institutions and structures most essential to peace. To this end, it should immediately abandon the Trump administration’s connivance with Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and replace its bellicose strategy towards Iran with an effort to reach a revised, durable nuclear agreement. Fortunately, Biden appears set to do both.

At the same time, the Biden administration will need to treat America’s alliances more as collective enterprises, which the US ideally leads without dominating. From the allies’ side, this shift has already begun, with European leaders, especially French President Emmanuel Macron, increasingly recognising the need to take Europe’s security into their own hands. The US should work with an empowered European Union to contain Russia’s revisionism on NATO’s borders and end its hybrid war on Western democracies.

Similarly, to manage its ongoing strategic confrontation with China, the US will need to work with its Asian allies, such as a rearmed Japan and South Korea. With China having all but abandoned its ‘peaceful rise’ strategy, avoiding violent conflict will be a delicate balancing act.

More broadly, the US will need to galvanise the world’s liberal democracies to forge a bloc capable of standing up to the world’s authoritarians. This should include efforts to counter the forces of disintegration within the EU and, potentially, to transform NATO into a broader security alliance of democracies.

Crucially, the two blocs would also need to cooperate effectively in key areas of shared interest, such as trade, non-proliferation, climate change and global health. This will require diplomatic skills that Trump could scarcely imagine, much less muster.

Morrison urges Biden visit for ANZUS anniversary as US result injects new force into Australia’s climate debate

Prime Minister Scott Morrison has lost no time pivoting to the incoming US administration, declaring he hopes US President-elect Joe Biden and his wife Jill will visit Australia for next year’s 70th anniversary of ANZUS.

‘This is a profound time, not just for the United States, but for our partnership and the world more broadly’, Morrison told a news conference on Sunday.

‘And I look forward to forging a great partnership in the spirit of the relationships that has always existed between prime ministers of Australia and presidents of the United States.’

Those around Morrison say the government is already familiar with many figures in the Biden firmament, who were players in the Barack Obama presidency.

Morrison also thanked Donald Trump and his cabinet ‘with whom we have had a very, very good working relationship over the years of the Trump administration’, adding, ‘of course, that will continue through the transition period.’

Meanwhile, Labor leader Anthony Albanese retrospectively sought to put a less controversial gloss on his Friday comment, when he said Morrison should contact Trump and convey ‘Australia’s strong view that democratic processes must be respected’.

On Sunday Albanese said: ‘What I suggested was that Scott Morrison needed to stand up for democracy. He’s done that in acknowledging the election of President-elect Biden.’

Within Australia political attention is quickly turning to what a Biden administration will mean for the Morrison government’s climate change policies, and how Biden will handle China.

With an activist climate policy a central feature of Biden’s agenda, including a commitment to net zero emissions by 2050 (which Australia has refused to embrace), Australia faces an increased risk of becoming isolated internationally on the issue.

That could have trade and investment implications, something of concern to the business community.

Morrison sought to highlight a common Australia–US commitment to technology.

He said he particularly welcomed campaign comments Biden made ‘when he showed a lot of similarity to Australia’s views on how technology can be used to address the lower emissions challenge.

‘We want to see global emissions fall and it’s not enough for us to meet our commitments,’ Morrison said.

‘We need to have the transformational technologies that are scalable and affordable for the developing world as well, because that is where all the emissions increases are coming from … in the next 20 years’, he said.

‘I believe we will have a very positive discussion about partnerships we can have with the United States about furthering those technological developments that will see a lower emissions future for the world but a stronger economy as well where we don’t say goodbye to jobs’, Morrison said.

Labor will use the Biden win as a springboard to ramp up its attack on the government over climate policy, including in parliament this week.

Albanese said Biden would reject ‘accounting tricks’ like the government’s argument that it should be allowed to use carryover credits to reach emission reduction targets.

Former Liberal prime minister Malcolm Turnbull told the ABC the US result gave Morrison the opportunity to pivot on climate policy. Now was the time for him to say, ‘I don’t have to go on with all of the BS about a gas-led recovery, which is political piffle’, Turnbull said.

Chief of the Australian Industry Group Innes Willox said the Biden administration would place much more emphasis on climate change and energy policy.

‘The commitment to net zero emissions by 2050 will encourage other economies to move down this path. We are already seeing significant steps in recent times from other major trading partners such as Japan, South Korea, the UK and the European Union.

‘Australia, led by industry and investor action, is already headed this way without making a formal target commitment’, Willox said.

Willox said independent MP Zali Steggall’s climate change bill—with a pathway to a 2050 target—provided an immediate opportunity to move the debate forward. The bill will be introduced on Monday.

‘The bill is non-partisan. 2050 is many changes of government away, but for some industries it’s just a couple of investment cycles’, Willox said. The Steggall bill is receiving considerable business support.

Willox said the other shift of importance for Australian industry from a Biden administration would be ‘the opportunity for the US to re-engage with China on trade and broader economic issues.

‘Efforts to take the heat out of differences on global trade through a change in tone will be welcomed but there should be no illusion that a Biden administration would seek to markedly soften the US’s stance on key issues’, Willox said.

‘The risk for Australia until now has been that we have been caught up as collateral damage in the US–China trade dispute.

‘The future risk is that China may seek to substitute Australian exports in key sectors with goods from the US in an effort to reset their economic relationship’, Willox said.

Asked about the prospect of the US rejoining the Trans-Pacific Partnership, Morrison said, ‘I think it would be very early days to speculate on those matters. I would simply say to the United States, the door has always remained open on the TPP. It is open now. It will be open in the future and you are welcome any time.’The Conversation

What would a Biden administration do with the US’s nuclear weapons?

US presidential candidate Joe Biden has suggested that one of his administration’s policy goals would be to de-emphasise the role of nuclear weapons, potentially by adopting a no-first use or sole-purpose stance and scaling back investment in modernising the nuclear arsenal. Changing from a nuclear triad of intercontinental ballistic missiles, ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) and bomber aircraft to a dyad by cancelling the planned replacement of the Minuteman III ICBMs would address those objectives. It would also align with calls from the US arms-control community for a smaller nuclear force that is less prominent in US military planning.

The land, sea and air legs of the traditional triad of US strategic nuclear forces are ageing, even as China and Russia proceed in rapidly modernising their own forces. The US nuclear command-and-control infrastructure also needs to be updated to ensure its operational effectiveness and survivability; until recently, it was still relying on floppy-disk-based computers.

The US nuclear force structure is reaching a point where modernisation is essential if it is to remain credible. That represents an opportunity for a new administration to shift strategy and posture. Yet the adverse strategic outlook suggests that a radical change in direction could be detrimental to global stability.

A Biden administration would come under intense pressure from arms-control advocates who are arguing for the scrapping of land-based ICBMs and a move away from a launch-on-warning or launch-under-attack nuclear force posture. There are also calls for withdrawing the traditional sole authority of the president to initiate use of nuclear weapons and giving the US Congress a say in that decision. It’s argued that nuclear forces should not respond quickly to any threat and that more time should be allowed to make a decision to launch a nuclear retaliatory strike. Getting rid of 400 ICBMs in highly vulnerable silos and relying on a dyad of SSBNs and bombers would reduce the intense pressure on the president in a crisis to make a decision on retaliation.

That change in posture would also reduce the risk of inadvertent nuclear war in the event of a false alarm. The scenario might involve a build-up to a major-power conflict below the nuclear level—perhaps over Taiwan in the Indo-Pacific, or to defend NATO in a crisis with Russia. Both sides might misinterpret each other’s actions, or co-location of nuclear and conventional forces could generate a misperception of a nuclear attack. The conventional military conflict might then escalate to nuclear weapons use, either through miscalculation or as deliberate choice to coerce—for example, with a Russian ‘escalate to de-escalate’ use of tactical nuclear weapons against NATO.

The risk of such a major-power conflict is growing, not receding. The strategic environment is looking more dangerous, and the days of the immediate post–Cold War period, when nuclear forces seemed peripheral to challenges from non-traditional threats, are long gone. The key question is whether that means it’s time for radical experimentation with nuclear force to minimise the risks of the inadvertent nuclear war, or whether such a step would weaken deterrence and make nuclear war more likely by giving an adversary an opportunity to exploit a perceived vulnerability.

The vision of reducing nuclear forces by scrapping ICBMs seems to rest on a set of assumptions about capability that may become more untenable over time. First, it assumes that SSBNs will remain invulnerable in the near term, and that the US Navy’s Columbia-class SSBNs that will eventually replace the Ohio-class ‘boomers’ will always have the advantage of being largely undetectable. This assumption is being made even as US adversaries enhance their antisubmarine and undersea warfare technologies.

It also assumes that US bombers will always get through—whether by a B-21 with enhanced stealth technology paired with autonomous systems, or through a better standoff capability on the B-2A and B-52, including hypersonic weapons. Yet adversaries’ integrated air defence systems will be tougher to beat, even for platforms with low observability such as the B-21.

Finally, it assumes that US missile early warning systems will always remain effective in giving sufficient warning to avoid the decapitation of the US nuclear command authority, even though US adversaries are developing a range of counterspace, cyberattack and electronic warfare systems that could make ensuring early warning more challenging.

Those are some big assumptions upon which to base the future nuclear force posture of the US, which must provide a sufficient degree of assurance to make deterrence credible in the eyes of US adversaries and allies. The 14 Ohio-class SSBNs, for instance, are invulnerable for the moment, though only four are on patrol at any time, and the other 10 are vulnerable while in port. However, the SSBN fleet will shrink to 12 Columbia-class boats, with only one or two on patrol, making the sea-based leg of the triad more brittle.

If the US decided to rely more on SSBNs at the expense of ICBMs, China and Russia could respond by enhancing their antisubmarine warfare capabilities and experimenting with new undersea warfare technologies. Quantum technologies, artificial intelligence and non-traditional undersea warfare systems, such as LIDAR, advanced acoustic arrays and unmanned underwater vehicles, would make it more challenging for submarines to exploit an opaque ocean.

A Biden administration would be wise to emphasise investments to maintain credible nuclear deterrent forces over the next several decades. Certainly, it’s time to shift away from a launch-on-warning posture, and for that to happen, US nuclear forces must be able to survive a nuclear first strike by an opponent, and then retaliate decisively. That may mean fewer ICBMs and ones that are road-mobile, rather than in siloes. It may also mean enhancing the long-term assuredness of the sea- and air-based legs of the triad, as well as more capable and resilient missile early warning and command-and-control systems.

There is value in sustaining a prompt nuclear response capability rather than relying one that is slow and highly dependent on survivable command-and-control links to submarines and bombers. Sustaining and updating the triad would not only boost the operational flexibility of US nuclear forces, but also enhance and reinforce the credibility of the deterrent and reduce the risk of nuclear warfare.

A no-first-use US nuclear posture would be bad for Australia and the region

With the presidential election only 10 days away, what US nuclear strategy might be under a Joe Biden administration and what that might imply for US extended nuclear deterrence should be key issues of concern for the region, and for Australia.

The US is facing a more adverse strategic environment than it has for a long time. It is confronted by two nuclear-capable peer adversaries: China, which is seen as the main threat, and Russia, whose nuclear force is being upgraded rapidly. The modernisation of China’s nuclear forces could cause Beijing to shift away from its traditional no-first-use policy.

The combination of Russian and Chinese nuclear capability development—not to mention an unpredictable and nuclear-armed North Korea, and the prospect of an Iranian nuclear breakout as a consequence of President Donald Trump’s scrapping of the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action—means that Biden would have to think carefully before succumbing to calls to adhere to a ‘no first use’ doctrine or to make a ‘sole purpose’ declaration. Both of these options will be advocated by proponents in the US arms-control and disarmament community.

As President Barack Obama’s deputy, Biden supported the idea of a no-first-use posture for nuclear weapons, stating in 2017 that, ‘Given our non-nuclear capacities and the nature of today’s threats, it’s hard to envision a plausible scenario in which the first use of nuclear weapons by the United States would be necessary or would make sense.’ The Democratic Party’s 2020 platform suggests that ‘the sole purpose of our nuclear arsenal should be to deter—and, if necessary, retaliate against—a nuclear attack, and we will work to put that belief into practice, in consultation with our allies and military’.

The platform also commits to ‘work to maintain a strong, credible deterrent while reducing our overreliance and excessive expenditure on nuclear weapons’, but would apparently cancel both the nuclear sea-launched cruise missile and low-yield warhead for the Trident—both initiatives of the Trump administration’s 2018 nuclear posture review.

So it seems probable that a Biden administration would seek to move back to nuclear policy that is similar to, if perhaps a bit more ambitious than, that suggested in Obama’s 2009 Prague speech, which emphasised nuclear disarmament that was consistent with maintaining a ‘safe, secure and effective arsenal to deter any adversary, and guarantee that defense to our allies’.

The risk is that Biden may still view nuclear weapons through the lens of Prague 2009, rather than the strategic reality of 2020. In 2009, the main threat to the US came from international terrorism and nuclear weapons were largely seen as peripheral. But that was then and this is now, and the primary threat is from peer adversaries such as China and Russia.

Of course, Biden isn’t blind to the challenges from China and Russia, but the military capabilities—including nuclear ones—of America’s peer adversaries have improved considerably during the past 11 years.

Today, the US and its allies face a far more potent military challenge in technological terms and traditional advantages are being eroded in key areas. For example, the US Navy is being openly challenged by a rapidly expanding and modernising People’s Liberation Army Navy, and the PLA Air Force has undertaken a broad modernisation of its air combat capabilities that involves replacing obsolete third-generation platforms with advanced ‘ fourth-plus’ and fifth-generation systems, including for strategic strike.

The establishment of the PLA Strategic Support Force and the growth of advanced Chinese counter-space, cyber and electronic ‘network warfare’ capabilities is placing the US lead in C4ISR (command, control, communications, computers, intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance) at risk, and with it the US ability to rapidly gain and sustain a knowledge edge in warfare. The PLA Rocket Force has grown dramatically and now has far more potent anti-access/area-denial capabilities that are increasingly putting the US ability to project power into the western Pacific at risk.

Russia’s military continues to engage in large-scale modernisation. Moscow faces greater challenges in economic terms to sustain such an effort, but investment in long-range hypersonic missiles, the blurring of boundaries between strategic non-nuclear and tactical nuclear weapons, and new counter-space and cyber systems are making Russia a more dangerous foe in 2020 than it was in 2009.

With these developments in mind, now is not the time for well-intentioned efforts towards denuclearisation or adoption of a no-first-use posture. Any decision by Biden to embrace a ‘sole purpose’ declaration would end US strategic ambiguity. With the military balance much less skewed in the US’s favour, China and Russia could use conventional military force to impose their will, without having to worry about a nuclear riposte from the US, so long as they themselves remained below the nuclear threshold. With enhanced conventional capabilities, they now have a much greater ability to inflict heavy losses on US forces. If they sink an aircraft carrier or two or use overwhelming force against US allies, for example, what would a Biden administration committed to a no-first-use policy do?

Such a state of affairs would not engender confidence in US extended nuclear deterrence among America’s allies. For Tokyo, Seoul and Canberra, or Warsaw for that matter, knowing that the US would no longer deter major conventional attacks by maintaining the possibility of a nuclear response would increase the prospects of military coercion or threats from China and Russia.

That prospect is certain to have some decision-makers—notably in Tokyo and Seoul—re-examining their options for acquiring an independent nuclear deterrent, simply because they could no longer count on the US.

It would also leave Australia in a difficult position. The 2009 defence white paper’s comment on the importance of extended nuclear deterrence still resonates today:

Australian defence policy under successive governments has acknowledged the value to Australia of the protection afforded by extended nuclear deterrence under the US alliance. That protection provides a stable and reliable sense of assurance and has over the years removed the need for Australia to consider more significant and expensive defence options.

Reporting on a president who shouts and shifts

Donald Trump went negative and then he tested positive.

Trump visited chaos on the first campaign debate. Then Covid-19 did the same to his campaign.

The Donald’s ability—call it a skill—to shout and shift is a central feature of his presidency.

Trump at full volume is the consistent element that runs from his inauguration  speech in January 2016 (‘This American carnage stops right here and stops right now’) to the presidential debate with Joe Biden in September 2020. The noise of a great showman proclaiming his greatness. What a ride.

Beyond the policy crunches and crashes, I’ve approached these four years from two frames: as a viewer and as a journalist.

The viewer perspective mixes amazement with acknowledgement: wow, this guy is good at what he does.

As a journalist about to reach 50 years in hackdom, my response has been rueful puzzlement. How do you report on this guy using the normal rules? The debate merely illustrates the tactic he’s deployed every day of his presidency.

The rules of hackdom (report on the president accurately, nail the facts) say the tsunami of Trump untruths should have washed him away. In July, the Washington Post fact-check said Trump had reached the grand total of 20,000 false or misleading claims. In the halls of hackdom, all those falsehoods and fabrications should be the end of the story. Of course, it isn’t.

Hacks face cascading crashes. Old models for paying for journalism crumble and burn. The digital disruption destroys the editor’s power as the information gatekeeper. Now the rules of the reporting game—objectivity, the facts, balance—don’t seem to decide the game.

Trump isn’t interested in policy or theory. And he does ‘alternative facts’, a phrase that epitomises the shimmering, shifting sands on which the very stable genius stands.

Trump’s game theory is from Dungeons and Dragons. He’s playing as a ‘chaotic neutral’, ‘an individualist, neither good nor evil, who cares little for rules or precedence and thrives in spontaneity’.

The president isn’t a person; he’s a TV character. That insight is from James Poniewozik, chief television critic of the New York Times. TV was born at the same time as Trump, Poniewozik writes, and TV is his soulmate. Trump thinks like a TV camera:

If you want to understand what President Trump will do in any situation, then, it’s more helpful to ask: What would TV do? What does TV want?

It wants conflict. It wants excitement. If there is something that can blow up, it should blow up. It wants a fight. It wants more. It is always eating and never full.

The first presidential debate was TV Trump again crashing into the journos. The hacks had a hard time handling it. The president as TV character is both creature and would-be commander of the viewers. The problem for the hacks was reporting on a debate where the defining line from Biden was, ‘Will you shut up, man? This is so unpresidential.’

My go-to American media columnist, the ever-sharp Jack Shafer, captured the problem of journos trying to intuit the impact of the Trump–Biden debate:

Never assume that the audience is more easily swayed by mass media messages than you are unless you’ve collected genuine data that proves that point. The people ‘out there’ are more savvy than we give them credit for.

If you’re a member of the press and you want to talk about what the ‘others’ think, at least take a stab at actually talking to them.

My answer to the collect-genuine-data instruction to hacks draws on the work of a very smart Australian, Sean Farrell, an astronomer who hunted black holes and is now a data scientist who hunts anything interesting. He’s working for a tech start-up called Receptiviti that’s turning algorithms loose on language (emails, tweets, transcripts of speeches) to develop tools the media can use for analysis and reporting.

The image below represents anger, disgust and joy in tweets targeting Trump around 12 minutes into the debate, when the moderator, Chris Wallace, pointed out that the president had never come up with a plan to replace Obamacare.

Image: Receptiviti, Timeline of emotional reaction on Twitter to first US presidential debate. Used with permission.

Here’s the app Dr Farrell built to visualise the response from Americans on Twitter to the debate, and here’s some of his analysis of emotional reactions as told to The Strategist:

  • Good feeling, bad feeling, emotionality and sentiment—All are highly correlated with tweet volume for Trump, but not for Biden. Biden sees a significant drop in all of these in the period when Trump hammers him on law and order, and Biden argues, ‘Most cops are good cops; there’s just some bad apples.’
  • Anger—The spike in angry tweets about Biden happens after he tells Trump to shut up. There were no such significant spikes for Trump, but his average anger level is higher than for Biden. Anger slowly trends down over the debate, perhaps indicative of debate fatigue.
  • Disgust—For Trump, disgust trends steadily upwards throughout the debate with spikes at particular moments: at Biden’s ‘will you shut up, man’ comment; when Trump attacked Biden for using the word ‘smart; at Biden’s comment, ‘He’s the racist’; and straight after Trump’s ‘stand back and stand by’ comment. In contrast, disgust at Biden trends downwards from the start of the debate until the point he tells Trump to shut up, and then it trends upwards from there (but still much less than Trump’s disgust).

The data on good feeling, bad feeling, emotionality and sentiment, Farrell comments, are all indicators of strong reactions, and they correlated with volume for Trump but not for Biden. That confirms what we already know: the polarising effect of Trump.

The Farrell summary: ‘People were unhappy with the bellicose exchanges and became increasingly fed up with the constant berating and belittling by both candidates, though they were particularly responsive to Trump’s behaviour.’

Journos always want to know who won. So Farrell constructed a good-versus-bad metric, with 100% being good and 0% being bad.

Across the entire US, pre-debate tweets about Biden had a good-versus-bad metric of 42.6%, while after the debate that rose to 50.0%. As for Trump, his good versus bad pre-debate was 52.8%, while after it was 51.1%. So, from this I guess you could say that good feeling for Trump went down slightly, by 1.7%, while good feeling for Biden went up by 7.4%.

The viewers joined the hacks in being unimpressed with the shouting.

Trump, Biden and the battle for Wisconsin

Winning Wisconsin is key to Donald Trump’s re-election. In 2016, he secured an upset win in the state by a margin of less than 1%, which was critical in helping him cobble together an electoral college majority. In 2020, both the Democrats and Republicans view winning Wisconsin as vital to victory and the state is being hit with a blizzard of political messaging, in the form of conventional advertising and social media campaigning.

To understand how political campaigning works in Wisconsin, it helps to have a sense of the state’s deeply segregated political geography. The two largest counties—inner-city Milwaukee county, and Dane county containing the capital Madison—vote Democratic in overwhelming numbers.

Outside urban areas, formerly blue rural and regional areas are now solidly red. Trump signs are ubiquitous, and economic issues are much less salient than the cultural touchstones of guns, abortion and immigration. Slogans like ‘No More Bullshit’ are a common sight on flags and garden signs. While the Joe Biden camp has tried to make inroads by emphasising the disastrous consequences of the trade war with China for Wisconsin farmers, its efforts have had little impact.

That means the suburban vote is the key battleground for both parties. The ‘WOW’ counties (Waukesha, Ozaukee and Washington) that surround the city of Milwaukee used to be the beating heart of the Republican party. Local right-wing talk-radio hosts like Charlie Sykes had national influence comparable to that of Alan Jones in Australia.

But the political trajectory of Sykes from Republican firebrand to never-Trumper following the 2016 election has been mirrored in the suburban belt he once held sway over. The narrow electoral loss of three-time Governor Scott Walker in 2018 showed that this once reliable red wall was cracking, and the suburbs were up for grabs.

The various messages that are blanketing Wisconsin are all about winning the suburbs and getting out or suppressing the vote, through both ‘surface’ and ‘subterranean’ efforts.

The surface campaign consists of the ads that you see on TV or highly trafficked websites, and it is designed with suburban voters in mind.

An enormous fundraising advantage has allowed Biden to plaster Wisconsin with positive messages. His ads tend to focus on his plans for office, with only glancing critiques of Trump’s pandemic performance.

There has also been a strong effort to push Biden’s working-class roots. In one ad, pictures of his childhood in Scranton, Pennsylvania, are juxtaposed with images of him visiting factory workers as vice president. More recently, there’s been an emphasis on reassuring voters that Biden condemns violence and looting. This frequently manifests as clips of Biden’s speeches cut into TV ads or YouTube commercials.

Trump’s ads enthusiastically embrace the negative. The ad ‘You won’t be safe in Joe Biden’s America’ has got a lot of airplay recently. It’s notable for the focus on ‘the radical left-wing mob’, using Antifa militants as its bête noire since Biden himself doesn’t fit that description.

But focusing on these surface messages tells only part of the story. Much of the campaign is being played out below the surface, in digital messaging that uses data-profiling to target specific groups of potentially movable voters. With the potential for more precise targeting, this subterranean campaign is being waged all over the state.

Most of this subterranean messaging takes place on open platforms like Twitter and public Facebook groups, with a smaller amount in closed spaces such as private Facebook groups and messaging apps like WhatsApp. Campaigns and issues groups target voters with paid ads, hitting key issues in different states. In Wisconsin, this has often meant healthcare on the left and economic growth on the right.

But there’s also an extensive effort to generate and spread content organically, without explicitly paying platforms for ad space. The majority of this content doesn’t originate with campaigns themselves, but with digital surrogates.

On the left, the most effective organic, unpaid content comes from groups like Occupy Democrats. It consists of anti-Trump memes, rather than actual misinformation or disinformation, and there’s little targeted expressly at Wisconsin.

There’s far more Wisconsin-focused material from the political right, some of which is at least partially organic. Groups like pro-gun advocates calling for armed protests against Covid-related mask mandates, or others opposing business restrictions during the pandemic, include real Wisconsinites with right-leaning beliefs.

But much of the subterranean digital content in Wisconsin is deliberate misinformation or disinformation. Young Mie Kim of the University of Wisconsin—Madison observes that most of the disinformation is focused on boosting right-wing messages.

The dominant themes are purported rioting, Antifa activists and the left’s desire to defund the police. Content often draws on pro-gun messaging, and there’s an extensive pro-police ‘Blue Lives Matter’ subculture—one it appears 17-year-old Kyle Rittenhouse was immersed in before driving to Kenosha in southeastern Wisconsin and shooting two innocent protestors in August.

Since then, the law-and-order theme has morphed into active pro-Rittenhouse messaging, which has now been taken up by both local Republicans and the Trump administration.

On the Covid-19 front, groups such as Turning Point Action are working around the safeguards Facebook has put in place to inhibit content farms, pushing messages like ‘Don’t trust Dr Fauci’. These groups also help amplify Trump’s attempts to discredit the voting process, falsely asserting mail-in balloting ‘will lead to fraud’.

The digital cult of QAnon, now designated by the FBI as domestic terrorist threat, is another example of a Trump-boosting subculture that thrives on Facebook in Wisconsin, so much so that two Republican candidates in the state are openly running QAnon-supportive campaigns.

The most potent electoral effects of these messages come via the recommendation algorithms of Facebook and YouTube, which make it very easy for those who don’t already hold these views to be drawn into a vortex of right-wing content. This messaging therefore serves the dual purposes of mobilising existing right-leaning voters and reaching audiences that may be otherwise disinclined to vote.

And what about those infamous Russian disinformation operations? Using data from earlier in the election campaign, Professor Kim estimated that at least 20% of all suspicious activity (activity that doesn’t appear to come from a real individual) could be directly traced to Russian groups that US intelligence agencies have confirmed are engaged in misinformation. It’s impossible to be certain exactly how active they are in Wisconsin, but Kim observes that Wisconsin is one of the most targeted states for this type of content.

Russian content is distinguished from other types of disinformation in its efforts to sow division generally rather than to simply boost right-wing messages. Kim notes that the primary target of division is racial tension, citing two Russian-run Instagram accounts focused on Wisconsin—one targeting police with a law-and-order message, and the other focused on African Americans and critiquing police violence.

That said, Russian activity in America broadly has also served to smear Biden and denigrate postal voting. Spreading misinformation can be as simple as just amplifying the president’s tweets. Chinese efforts to interfere in the US information arena have also been uncovered, though most such campaigns are focused not on the election but on issues like the South China Sea.

It’s too early to tell how the chaotic events of the past week—the race to replace of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the widely panned first presidential debate, and the White House becoming a Covid-19 hotspot—will affect surface or subterranean messaging campaigns.

Biden currently leads Trump by 7% in Wisconsin, which will encourage desperate Republican efforts to narrow that margin in coming weeks. The broad contours of this race for the state appear set: a TV-driven fight for the suburbs where Biden outspends Trump, ringed by a furious storm of conspiracy and misinformation that seeks to rouse and radicalise any latent right-leaning voters through fear.

Is the Trump presidency a turning point in world politics?

As the United States enters the home stretch of the 2020 presidential election campaign, and with neither party’s nominating convention featuring much discussion of foreign policy, the contest between President Donald Trump and Joe Biden apparently will be waged mainly on the battleground of domestic issues. In the long run, however, historians will ask whether Trump’s presidency was a major turning point in America’s role in the world, or just a minor historical accident.

At this stage, the answer is unknowable, because we don’t know if Trump will be re-elected. My book Do morals matter? rates the 14 presidents since 1945 and gives Trump a formal grade of ‘incomplete’, but for now he ranks in the bottom quartile.

Top-quartile presidents like Franklin D. Roosevelt saw the mistakes of America’s isolationism in the 1930s and created a liberal international order after 1945. A turning point was Harry S. Truman’s post-war decisions that led to permanent alliances that have lasted to this day. The US invested heavily in the Marshall Plan in 1948, created NATO in 1949 and led a United Nations coalition that fought in Korea in 1950. In 1960, during the administration of Dwight D. Eisenhower, the US signed a new security treaty with Japan.

Over the years, Americans have had bitter divisions—among themselves and with other countries—over military intervention in developing countries like Vietnam and Iraq. But the liberal institutional order continued to enjoy broad support until the 2016 election, when Trump became the first nominee of a major party to attack it. Trump was also a sceptic about foreign intervention, and while he has increased the defence budget, he has used force relatively sparingly.

Trump’s anti-interventionism is relatively popular, but his narrow, transactional definition of US interests, and his scepticism about alliances and multilateral institutions, are not reflective of majority opinion. Since 1974, the Chicago Council on Global Affairs has asked the public whether America should take an active part or stay out of world affairs. Roughly a third of the American people have been consistently isolationist, reaching a high point of 41% in 2014. Contrary to conventional wisdom, however, 64% favoured active involvement by the time of the 2016 election, and that number rose to a high of 70% by 2018.

Trump’s election and his populist appeal rested on the economic dislocations that were accentuated by the 2008 recession, but even more on polarising cultural changes related to race, the role of women, and gender identity. While he didn’t win the popular vote in 2016, Trump successfully linked white resentment over the increasing visibility and influence of racial and ethnic minorities to foreign policy by blaming economic insecurity and wage stagnation on bad trade deals and immigration. As president, however, according to former national security adviser John Bolton, Trump had little strategy, and his foreign policy was driven primarily by domestic politics and personal interests.

Just before Trump took office, Martin Wolf of the Financial Times described the moment as ‘the end of both an economic period—that of western-led globalisation—and a geopolitical one—the post-cold war “unipolar moment” of a US-led global order’. In that case, Trump may prove to be a turning point in American and world history, particularly if he’s re-elected. His electoral appeal may turn on domestic politics, but his effect on world politics could be transformational.

The current debate over Trump revives a longstanding question: are major historical outcomes the product of political leaders’ choices, or are they largely the result of social and economic forces beyond anyone’s control? Sometimes, history seems like a rushing river whose course is shaped by precipitation and topography, and leaders are simply ants clinging to a log in the current. In my view, they are more like white-water rafters trying to steer and fend off rocks, occasionally overturning and sometimes succeeding in steering to a desired destination.

For example, Roosevelt was unable to bring the US into World War II until the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, but his moral framing of the threat posed by Hitler, and his preparations to confront that threat, proved crucial. After World War II, the US response to Soviet ambitions might have been very different had Henry Wallace (who was replaced as vice president on the Roosevelt ticket for the 1944 election), not Truman, been president. After the 1952 election, an isolationist Robert Taft administration or an assertive Douglas MacArthur presidency might have disrupted the relatively smooth consolidation of Truman’s containment strategy, over which Eisenhower presided.

John F. Kennedy was crucial in averting a nuclear war during the Cuban missile crisis and then signing the first nuclear arms control agreement. But he and Lyndon B. Johnson mired the country in the unnecessary fiasco of the Vietnam War. In the century’s last decades, economic forces caused the erosion of the Soviet Union and Mikhail Gorbachev’s actions accelerated the Soviet bloc’s collapse. But Ronald Reagan’s defence build-up and negotiating skill, and George H.W. Bush’s skill in managing crises, played a significant role in bringing about a peaceful end to the Cold War, with a reunified Germany in NATO.

In other words, leaders and their skills matter—which also means that Trump cannot be easily dismissed. More important than his tweets are his weakening of institutions, alliances and America’s soft power of attraction, which polls show has declined since 2016.

Machiavellian and organisational skills are essential for successful US presidents, but so is emotional intelligence, which leads to self-awareness, self-control and contextual insight, none of which is evident with Trump. His successor, whether in 2021 or 2025, will confront a changed world, partly because of Trump’s idiosyncratic personality and policies. How great that change will be depends on whether Trump is a one-term or two-term president. We will know after 3 November whether we are at a historical turning point or at the end of an historical accident.

Beijing makes Biden an offer he must refuse

Whatever Beijing may think about Donald Trump’s term as US president, we now know that its greatest wish is for US–China relations to return to the days of Barack Obama’s administration, when the two countries’ leaders met to discuss issues of bilateral importance and dialogue dominated. This special relationship (based on—you guessed it—mutual respect and win–win cooperation) is what China’s Foreign Minister Wang Yi offered to a new US administration during a lengthy interview with state media outlet Xinhua on 5 August.

Wang’s remarks are eerily reminiscent of Beijing’s line when Scott Morrison replaced Malcolm Turnbull as Australia’s prime minister in 2018, and which reappeared in the lead-up to the federal election in May 2019. Each time, Beijing and its advocates said that the new Australian government had a golden chance to ‘reset the relationship’, change the tone of its policy towards Beijing and reverse some key decisions taken out of misplaced Cold War thinking.

In short, we were told that any problems or tensions between our two nations were the simple result of misguided thinking in Canberra.

Now, Wang is making this same offer to Joe Biden should he win the November US election.

‘We are ready to restart the dialogue mechanisms with the US side at any level, in any area and at any time. All issues can be put on the table for discussion’, Wang said.

‘Our message is quite clear: We urge the US to stop acting with arrogance and prejudice, but enter into constructive dialogue with us on an equal footing. We hope that it will work with us to ease current tensions and put the relations back onto the right track of no conflict, no confrontation, mutual respect and win–win cooperation.’

This could all be music to Biden’s ears, as he prizes his ability to establish working relationships with other leaders. ‘[A]ll politics is personal, particularly international relations’, he says. ‘You’ve got to know the other man’s or woman’s soul, and who they are, and make sure they know you.’

When I read that, I couldn’t help thinking of Trump’s summits with North Korea’s Kim Jong-un and ‘bromance’ with Russia’s Vladimir Putin—and of former prime minister Kevin Rudd’s belief that his personal charisma would move the world at the Copenhagen climate change conference. These are all recent applications of the ‘great man’ theory of leadership and the power of chemistry. And they were all failures.

Indeed, the fundamental fact of strategic and technological competition between China and the US makes any personal chemistry of far less value. Xi Jinping simply won’t concede on issues because he’s shared 25 meals and travelled 17,000 miles with Biden. But he’d be delighted if Biden did.

So, Biden’s most attractive feature in working with partners and allies is probably among his most worrying features when it comes to running US–China relations.

Putting this together with the rest of Wang’s vision for US–China relations is where the trouble really starts, though.

On Hong Kong, the US needs to butt out and let China implement its national security regime there, Wang says. There’s no mention of Beijing breaking the international commitments it gave in the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration, and no acknowledgement that democracies like the US, the UK and Australia might have real interests in not seeing freedom of expression suppressed in Hong Kong.

On the South China Sea, apparently the problem again is the US’s ‘provocative actions’. Washington needs to let Beijing work with the smaller claimant states to ‘make the South China Sea a sea of peace, friendship and cooperation’—backed by bigger military installations and more troops on the artificial islands Beijing has seized, along with unilateral declarations of administrative control.

Wang glides over whether it’s Chinese policy to build ‘national champions’ in technology through all means—including technology theft and distorted home markets. So a reset relationship would involve Biden ending restrictions on Chinese technology companies; releasing Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou, who is charged with evading US sanctions; and presumably reopening China’s consulate in Houston so it can get on with business.

Towards the end of the interview, Wang seems to get to what’s really on his mind—both what Beijing wants and what it fears.

Wang tells us, ‘China’s US policy is always consistent and stable.’ This is a deeply unsettling truth presented as a reassuring positive. Beijing’s policy towards the US is indeed unchanging—and is determined by the vision Xi has set out for a China-centred global economy in which China has strategic, technological and economic dominance. All this is best enabled by the kind of US–China relationship that Xi had with Obama, and which he wants to return under a future Biden administration.

Then we are told the US and China must ‘steer clear of red lines and avoid confrontation’. This statement closely follows Wang’s red-line drawing on Hong Kong, the South China Sea and Huawei—an irony that seems to have passed him by. Perhaps it’s a more subtle idea, though: it has indeed been Beijing’s preferred mode of causing discomfort and disquiet but not doing quite enough to provoke outright confrontation. So this might be another case of yearning for times past, when Obama avoided confrontation while China built military bases in the South China Sea.

Next Wang stresses the need to ‘keep the channels open for candid dialogue’, saying, ‘China’s door to dialogue remains open … in the spirit of equality and open-mindedness’. This evokes Xi’s offer to Obama of a ‘new model of great power relations’. The last time Beijing proposed this model, Washington was smart enough to know that simple bilateral engagement meant the US unliterally disempowering itself instead of working with its unique set of multilateral partners and alliances as a primary means of managing Beijing. Wang seems to hope that this old wine in a new bottle will find a market with the Biden team.

Wang ends with a lovely flourish on world harmony, cooperation on the pandemic, and the US and China working together with the United Nations ‘for world peace and stability’. But not before he mentions what comes over as an area of real anxiety. The US must ‘reject decoupling and uphold cooperation’.

Apparently, this is because decoupling will ‘endanger the security of international industrial chains’. Perhaps it’s a sign that out of the many Trumpian directions, economic decoupling, notably in high technology, is what Beijing’s leaders find the most unsettling and disruptive for their vision of Chinese power. That’s worth thinking about for the post-pandemic rebuild of the global economy and the role of trusted economic partnerships between the US and others, whoever wins in November.

The net effect of the Wang agenda for US–China relations would be Beijing pocketing all its strategic gains in recent years and gaining US acquiescence for its policy directions and actions. In return, a new US administration would apologise for the tensions and trouble its predecessor caused. Maybe then new dialogue on climate change and other shared challenges can begin, who knows.

Whatever the outcome in November, Wang has confirmed that Washington faces a bluntly determined Beijing with a clear agenda. He presents a narrative that sounds almost appealing, until you look inside the wrapper and compare notes with others who have been gifted similar opportunities to re-engage on Beijing’s terms. And Wang’s message may even be more conciliatory than Xi himself is willing to be.

May Beijing be disappointed in November, with whoever wins understanding that managing Beijing involves more than tone and personal relationships. Beijing’s policy towards the US and its allies is, as Wang has said, ‘always consistent and stable’. No amount of Covid-safe meal-sharing and soulful gazes between Biden and Xi can change that.