Chasing the Norm

Australian academic and blogger on politics, international relations, and culture

Andrew Carr

Welcome to my site

I am a Research Fellow at the Strategic and Defence Studies Centre, Australian National University.

My latest book is: 

Winning the Peace: Australia’s campaigns to change the Asia-Pacific Melbourne University Press.

My latest journal articles are:

‘An Indo-Pacific Norm Entrepreneur? Australia and Defence Diplomacy’ (With Daniel Baldino), Journal of the Indian Ocean Region (published online 16 March 2015).

‘Is Australia a Middle Power: The Systemic Impact approach’Australian Journal of International Affairs 68 (1), 70-84, 2014.

‘The Funding Illusion: The 2% of GDP furphy in Australia’s Defence Debate’ (with Peter Dean) Security Challenges 9(4), 65-86, 2013.

My full academic C.V can be found on the publications page.

In 2015 I will be teaching:

Australian Strategic & Defence Policy –  Masters Unit (STST8004), Graduate Studies in Strategy and Defence, ANU.

Australian Foreign and Defence Policy – Masters Unit, Australian Command and Staff College.

This site began life as an outlet for political blogging while a PhD student. I’ve had to give up blogging given my other publishing tasks, but I have left the archive up for those interested. These days this website serves as an online home to my publications and is mainly updated with my book reviews.

I can be contacted at Andrew.Carr@anu.edu.au

No, Minister: So You Want to Be a Chief of Staff?

No, Minister: So You Want to Be a Chief of Staff ? by Allan Behm Behm - No Minister

Many reasons have been offered for why the Rudd-Gillard-Rudd government fell short, but fundamentally I believe it came down to a failure of governance. They had smart, capable people, there were good ideas and policies and no shortage of hard work. But they couldn’t put it together in a sustained or effective fashion.

‘No Minister: So you want to be a chief of staff’ helps show exactly what that means. To be clear, Behm’s purpose is not to explain what went wrong, but rather try and show how to make government work, at least from within a single Minister’s office. Behm spends much of the book explaining how he set about his task as Greg Combet’s Chief of Staff, and how he thinks about issues of leadership, management, and building an efficient, trusting, value-driven team.

Behm’s position in the Minister for Climate Change’s office was always something of an oddity around Canberra. As Allan reveals early on, the intention had been for Combet to take over the Defence Portfolio, hence bringing in the ‘bow-tied assassin’* who offered a deep knowledge of the Defence organisation, the public service and a fine strategic mind.

One of the values of this book is that it focuses on the governance of governing. That is, how do you do the job? How do you build and manage relationships internally and externally so that you can achieve what you want to achieve.

That’s a vital issue and one often sidelined in our discussions of why the three baby boomer PMs (Rudd, Gillard and now Abbott) have been collectively viewed as failures. As one perceptive piece in The Atlantic recently noted ‘A great deal of political writing these days is indistinguishable from theatre criticism: Its chief concerns are storyline, costumes, and the quality of public performances’. Behm’s book is a good antidote to that. While there are some amusing character sketches, the weight of the book is on the process of running a government, rather than lumping it all on the ability of the PM to spin their way ahead.

Behm spends a lot of time in this book talking about wisdom, which he views as experience diffused through reflection. As such, he is quite critical of many of the young jocks that often ran the show in the Rudd era, though he is quick to sincerely praise many of the young staffers he personally worked with.

On this score, I must stress that I bear no actual wisdom as to life on the hill. I’ve never worked in a ministerial or political office, though like many in Canberra I’ve wondered if I could endure. But I do have friends and colleagues who have toiled those long hours at a variety of levels, and I’ve read my fair share of memoirs and accounts, so take the rest of this review with that caveat in mind.

One notable theme is the issue of ‘wheel-spinning’: That is, lots of effort for little result. While making no excuses for the long hours, Behm rightly notes how much work seems to be done that doesn’t end up furthering the aims of the government. While it’s something we can all reflect on in our own areas, I admit to wondering about the willingness of so many political operatives to sweat the small stuff. Every issue is treated as fundamental and worth responding to rather than keeping a focus on the larger issues of strategy that ultimately determine elections and legacies. Instead as Behm laments ‘in the current environment, politics is totally preoccupied with and consumed by tactics’.

One other message of the book is the idea of civility as a requirement for the process to occur. Behm stresses the necessity of politics being a hard business and he is happy to criticise individuals and parties he disagrees with. Yet he argues throughout that notions of ‘civility, decorum and respect’ are the functional basis for being successful in the profession of politics. In one intriguing line he suggests ‘a government’s image of competence is not really helped where scorn and disdain replace civility and decorum.’ While we often don’t link the concepts of capacity and civility, the most capable figures I’ve encountered have often been the most civil. It’s those who doubt their ability to perform at that level who tend to be the real scrappers searching for every inch of advantage.

Two final concerns that resonated with me were his concern about the rise of cynicism about and in politics, and the need for clear agreement and articulation of principles before policies are developed and announced. Neither claim is new, but they seem fundamental starting points for constructing a more effective political environment.

While I love a good memoir, I’ve largely left alone the stream of books by the politicians of the Rudd-Gillard era. They are all out much too soon for any real reflection to have occurred. ‘No Minister’ however is the second book by a staffer I’ve read and enjoyed. Given my favourite book on the Keating government is Don Watson’s beautiful ‘Reflections of a bleeding heart’, maybe more encouragement should be made for staffers, rather than their bosses, to pen memoirs and tomes.

Of course, with such a theme, this book will only be read by Canberra insiders, but that’s probably the audience who need to read it most. Highly recommended. As Greg Combet says in the foreword ‘it’s a gem.’

*Behm is famous for his preference for bow-ties. And pleasingly, if you look carefully at the cover, the advisor is also fashioned with a bow-tie.

Clausewitz: A Very Short Introduction

Clausewitz: A Very Short Introduction (Very Short Introductions #61) by Michael Eliot Howard Howard - Clausewitz

Hi, my name is Andrew, I study strategic issues, and I’ve never read Clausewitz.

That’s something difficult to acknowledge, though I suspect I’m in much wider company in my field than I fear. Of course I’ve read bits and pieces, chapters and sections that have been relevant to research inquiries, but I’ve never sat down and read it through. I’ve never studied ‘On War’ as a project.

I’ve come to feel that should change, hence getting this very short introduction. I’d normally have hesitated to even bother with a mere long essay, but for the author. Michael Howard is a co-editor on the definitive translation of Clausewitz’s ‘On War’, and the leading strategic scholar of his generation.

That said, this introduction is a little too short. Especially with a work as complex as ‘On War’, Howard barely even bothers to try and walk you through the major sections or ideas. He knows it is not really possible. Instead he tries to highlight and explain, in as clear a language as possible, why this minor Prussian Commander who died in 1831 is regarded as THE greatest theorist of war. A genius regularly compared to Shakespeare or Newton for his ability to grasp the fundamental features of his field.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the book is the concluding section on the reception of ‘On War’ and the legacy of Clausewitz. Freed of trying to provide crib notes, Howard provides a fascinating discussion of the influence of the book on military thinking in the 19th century and into the 20th. For instance, how it was used and misused during the first world war, and whether it can help us understand new forms of conflict like nuclear ‘cold wars’ and revolutionary people’s wars.

Still, this is an odd text. I can see the intuitive appeal behind such a series of books, but I can’t quite tell who the audience would be. For a scholar or anyone with a basic grasp of Clausewitz (enough to want to know more) the book is too short and light to be worth the time. But without such an impulse, why would you want to buy this book in the first place?

As such, it’s probably not worth your cash, though the kind of book you could steal from a friend’s shelf for an enjoyable hour or two on a lazy afternoon.

Red Star Over the Pacific: China’s Rise and the Challenge to US Maritime Strategy

Red Star Over the Pacific: China’s Rise and the Challenge to U.S. Maritime Strategy by Toshi Yoshihara & James R. Holmes Yoshihara - Red Star

In Red Star over the Pacific Toshi Yoshihara and James R. Holmes argue that the best analysis of China’s maritime turn in the 21st century can be found in the writing of an American Naval Captain who died in 1914.

Holmes and Yoshihara set out to explore and detail China’s internal debates about naval strategy. Bringing many of these debates to an English speaking audience for the first time, they show how the middle kingdom is thinking about its new role and how prominent ideas are influencing national capability choices.

At the heart of this debate, the authors find the strategic grammer of the American strategist Alfred Thayer Mahan. The book begins with an exposure of his work and his significant influence on Chinese thinking and debates. The book then turns to examine key factors in Beijing’s maritime strategy. This includes chapters on fleet tactics, major capabilities such as ballistic missiles and submarines, and soft power operations.

Combined these offer a fascinating insight into how China’s maritime turn is occurring. Along the way we get discussions of US responses and force posture and the implications for regional and even global security.
The line between ‘strategic studies’ and ‘international politics’ is often blurred in the public literature. In Red Star over the Pacific Yoshihara and Holmes masterfully demonstrate why the former is an important sub-discipline that is worth preserving. They offer history (including a fascinating comparison with another Mahan inspired opponent, Germany), geography, extremely readable analysis of technical capability and balance it all with a judicious strategic analysis that grants due weight to ideational factors such as intellectual debates and culture to provide a compelling analysis.

By grounding the analysis in the strategic studies domains of concepts and capability, the authors go far beyond anything else on the shelves to detail just what China is attempting to do at sea, what it could do, how it will try to do it and what it means for the US and anyone else who may try to shape or resist Beijing’s policy.

The subject matter makes this something of a niche book, but given the quality of the analysis and writing I know many well outside my field who have picked up and enjoyed a copy (the book was published in 2010 though never feels dated). It also deserves to be read given the significance of the issues at stake. The US and China will almost assuredly avoid a land based conflict (a repeat of the 1950 crisis on the Korean Peninsula is about the only plausible exception). But a maritime clash is increasingly possible. More so, maritime strategy and coercion is already a fundamental part of the current strategic competition between the first and second largest economies of the world.

While I dismiss notions of US decline or passivity, and recognise the vast gulf between owning and effectively utilising capabilities, this book still makes for pessimistic reading. China may currently feel hemmed into the ‘first-island chain’ that connects Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines and Indonesia. But with a switch of government in Taipei and authority over the South China Sea, Beijing can flip those barriers into creating a large moat that protects rather than contains China.

That sets the current dispute about the South China Sea in a very different light. Merely grabbing a few man-made islands or small oil fields hardly seems worth the effort. But as part of an effort to fundamentally rechange the regional maritime geography to China’s benefit, it takes on a far greater order of significance. Yet it’s also not clear that current policy alternatives will effectively challenge Beijing or that now is the best time to do it.

I tend to think that Southeast Asian countries are far better placed to dissuade China from such a policy than a clumsy and ill-interpreted effort from Washington. Likewise, the extent to which this change is unacceptable to non-Chinese interests is also not clear. US and Australian safety does not depend upon the waters inside the first island chain, and if shipping and trade is protected – and there’s no good reason it won’t be – then what exactly is the threat worth going to war over? Finally, and as Yoshihara and Holmes clearly demonstrate, even if the US wanted to actively resist China’s maritime expansion, it would be extremely difficult and costly to do so. This is quite unlike Britain resisting Germany before World War 1 and the usual dribble about national character/intent and seriousness that litters these kinds of discussions has almost nothing to do with it.

This is one for the wonks, but that says more about the public’s interest than the capacity of these scholars to write for the public. It masterfully shows what strategic studies is as a discipline, and examines one of the most important global questions of the day. Along the way it helps to draw many of China’s intellectual debates on military issues out into the open, while reminding us that strategy is a domain of ideas as well as weapons. Of concepts and capabilities. Power has its material and ideational spheres and we can only understand just what we are doing, and how we may seek our security if we understand and embrace both parts.
A remarkable piece of scholarship. Give it a go if you can

The Global Village Myth: Distance, War, and the Limits of Power

The Global Village Myth: Distance, War, and the Limits of Power by Patrick Porter Porter - Global village myth

A good academic book will usually have two stories contained inside. First, it needs an academic contribution that helps explore with careful logic and substantial detail a specific aspect of world affairs. The second story is the public/policy implications. That is, an attempt to say why this matters, and how the refined understanding of the ideas and issues in the first story, can translate into a clear path forward that completes the second.

The Global Village Myth is a persuasive, fascinating, important, and extremely well written book. But unfortunately its two stories don’t quite balance each other. The policy story unfortunately tends to dominate the academic one, which in turn limits the power of the analysis, which then constrains the power of the policy recommendations.

Porter’s thesis, and one I broadly accept, is that thanks to globalisation and technology we have seen a consensus emerge that the world has ‘shrunk’. This however has not helped the nerves of security analysts. Rather, the tyranny of distance has been replaced by the peril of proximity. To those who accept this view, security requires a global approach. No threat can be left alone, no bad guy untouched, no distance sufficient to give breathing ‘space’. And so perpetual war needs to be waged to have perpetual peace.

Through three case studies of Al-Qaeda, the Taiwan strait and the rise of cyber and drones, Porter shows that on the ground, distance still matters. In all three cases, the lines on the map are still vital for how the issues will play out. To the extent they are overlooked or downplayed, our ability to sensibly understand and resolve them is reduced. Even in the information age power is still shaped and stopped by geography.

This argument is not just a simple effort to show the map matters. Instead Porter offers a a refined understanding of how space is both material (Oceans and the Himalayas have the own obvious effects), but also constructed (how near is ‘near’, who owns what, how does space shape our perception of location, security, wealth etc). I found this an extremely compelling argument, but I finished this book somewhat disappointed.

Porter rightly focuses on the way actors in the United States understand and adopt this argument (what he terms ‘globalism’), especially ‘liberal’ ideologues such as B.Clinton, Bush 2 & B.Obama (and unquestioned by H.Clinton, Bush 3 and virtually all serious 2016 contenders). But this focus on the US tends to overwhelm and shrink the space for the academic analysis of the concept of strategic space. I never quite felt all the important threads of how geography, ideas and strategy interact were drawn out. Ironically the US focus also underplayed the importance of the idea by downplaying just how globally accepted the ‘globalism’ thesis really is. The US may be an advanced case, but it is far from the only one.

For example: In Australia there seems a real divide between analysts who accept the globalism idea and want a Defence force designed around the threats we face (global). And their critics who want a Defence force designed around the things we want to protect (local). It’s not hard to see many other countries who supported international actions without considering enough how geography will shape their actions. From those who support R2P and humanitarian intervention through to the struggles Russia and China are facing trying to push out the boundaries of their control.

Porter’s concern however is to show why a lack of appreciation for geography has harmed american policy making. As such the over-stretch and challenges of the US end up dominating most of the book. This is an important tale, but one I felt could have been made more powerfully with a slightly greater focus on the academic analysis and if pushed less centrally and consistently throughout. It also risks getting lost in the crowd critiquing current US policy, when it should stand a cut above most of what is out there. It also felt slightly under-done. Given the focus on the US, I’d have been keen to see more policy advocacy rather than just criticism from Porter. As his twitter handle is @offshorebalancer, I kept wondering what some of the implications were for US policy in Asia. Could offshore balancing even work if distance is still so huge a factor (i.e. if the US gave up many of its bases in Asia as offshore balancers want, could the US still have a say in Asia?).

You’ll note my concerns here aren’t actually critiques of the central argument of the book, so take these as the lesser order concerns they are. The Global Village Myth is an important contribution to the Strategic Studies literature. Too many have too readily accepted the demise of geography to great cost. The counter-view however isn’t a banal geographic determinism as some push (See Robert D. Kaplan’s ‘Revenge of Geography’) but rather a recognition that space is both material and ideational and we need a more nuanced and advanced understanding of their interconnection in this interconnected world.

The Global Village Myth is a great read for anyone interested in global politics, especially on the strategic side of the ledger

City Limits: Why Australia’s cities are broken and how we can fix them

City Limits: Why Australia’s cities are broken and how we can fix them  by Jane-Frances Kelly, Paul Donegan Kelly_City Limits

We have become a nation of Two Australia’s. But the divide is not based on class, skin colour, or wealth (per say) but on how close to the CBD you live. Those in close enjoy access to good jobs, access to good services, high house values, higher levels of gender equality at work and lower work-life balance issues. Those further out suffer in all these areas.

This is a fantastic, if scary book. It combines several of the biggest issues of modern Australian life, and shows how they are centrally connected to our cities, and how we are comprehensively failing to address them.

The argument begins by noting that while the knowledge-economy was thought to have enabled us to all work ‘anywhere, anytime’, in fact it has pushed us towards the CBD. Where manufacturing let people live in the suburbs near the big plants, today’s economy forces everyone to head to a central point. So much so that 80% of Australia’s economy now occurs on 0.2% of our land.

But that’s not where the people are. Certainly not those who are new, poor, disadvantaged or just on average salaries. This book, if anything undersells, a story of two Australia’s. And while transport, governance and other concerns are part of the issue, the real culprit here is housing policy.

The pursuit of the Australian dream is killing the Australian dream. By assuming everyone wants a large, detached house in the outer suburbs we have built cities which are increasingly harming our lives and our economy.

We are not building enough houses for people, nor the kinds of houses they want, nor in the places they want. Rich suburbs with access to good services and jobs have become virtual forts, keeping out anyone else who wants to access these benefits. Notably one area the authors do not point the finger at is population growth. The problem is not that we are growing too fast, but that we’re doing such a bad job of managing it that all growth is a problem. Likewise foreign investment is about 1% of the market, so again it’s not the culprit.

Tackling this will be tough. Unlike many other countries, there’s usually no one responsible for an entire city (hence why we should abolish the states, though that’s a topic for another day). Worse, it will require both sides of politics to sacrifice beloved policies. The Right needs to embrace more public transport (especially trains). The left needs to recognise that housing policy regulations are crippling the very ‘working families’ they claim to speak on behalf of. And both sides need to become much much better at engaging with the public to see what they want and find what trade offs they will accept.

There’s much to recommend about this book. In fact, anyone interested in Australia’s politics, economy or social changes should pick it up. Best book I’ve read this year in fact.

Zero to One: Notes on Startups, or How to Build the Future

Zero to One: Notes on Startups, or How to Build the Future by Peter Thiel, Blake MastersThiel - Zero to One

I tend not to read business books, but Peter Thiel strikes me as an interesting guy, and occasionally dipping into the stream of discussion from Silicon Valley & the business world is helpful to keep your orientation. (The material and voice is Theil’s, Masters helped write it)

If nothing else, I was reminded of Adam Smith’s famous line that ‘People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices’. To Theil’s credit he is entirely upfront about this.

Theil’s philosophy in business is to find the handful of mega opportunities which come from near monopoly circumstances and go all in. Pleasingly, he seems to think such situations come about largely from technological advances where your product is either new or 10x better than the competition, rather than just via lobbying and loopholes. While governments and people like open market competition, business does not, and too many political leaders forget or ignore this.

More interesting to those outside the business world – and I never have been, my 1 year with a private think tank really doesn’t count – is his take on the wider world. He has an interesting chapter on chance and US/China/Europe world views (though it descends to something of a Carpe diem). Likewise the book can serve as a useful push to think clearly about what exactly you do, whether its the best use of your time, how you differentiate yourself from the competition and what you can plan for that leads you where you want to go. All important areas to explicitly think through, even if you have no desire to step into the finance world’s pin-stripe suits. (Or even a t-shirt and jeanes, which Theil rates as the true entrepreneurs wardrobe).

As a palette cleanser between some more serious books, this was an interesting read from someone with a frank and different take on the world. But I suspect the only one who gets rich from the voluminous literature on business and wealth are the authors and publishers. Still, as Lawrence Freedman notes in his master work ‘Strategy’ this is where a lot of the brightest minds of our era are focused, and it serves us well to pay at least some attention to their thoughts

Liberty, Equality and Democracy

Liberty, Equality and Democracy by Chris BergBerg - Democ

As everyone knows, democracy is in a bad state these days. Polls show widespread dissatisfaction with our political system, many would not vote if they didn’t have to and few people seriously engage with politics. Globally, the post-Cold War wave of democracies risks rolling back, while authoritarian capitalists like China seem to stand impervious.

Indeed, it is worse than we think as Berg makes clear. The notion that democracy is a system where people develop considered views and are represented by accountable leaders in a timely and effective manner is shot through with problems.

The temptation might then be to abandon democracy, or at least reduce its scope. Indeed we have already moved well down this path with the growth of statutory independent bodies to make expert judgements on our behalf. This is already common in economics (The RBA or ACCC etc) and becoming increasingly popular as a resolution to health or environmental problems.

This is a grave mistake Berg argues. Democracy is not about good decision making processes he argues. That’s a nice outcome, but the real reason people across time and space have yearned for it —in a multitude of diverse forms— is because ‘it is an ethical claim about the relationship between state and citizen, and about individual equality’.

In other words, Democracy not a mechanism for choosing the nature of our political community but a normative philosophy that takes human equality as its fundamental starting point. Attempts to fix the decision making capacity of democracy that reduce or undermine that basic equality are therefore undemocratic.

Regular readers of my reviews will know I tend to like shorter books. Get into the idea and get on with it. In this case however I couldn’t quite decide if the length was just right or about 1/3rd too short. The book moves at a cracking pace, and while Berg describes and explains very clearly, you need a strong level of background reading in politics and philosophy to truly follow the debate.

That’s not a bad thing, given few would pick up this book without such an interest already, and bulking it out might deter many who would, without necessarily better informing the most likely audience for this book. Still, with a book this ambitious a slightly slower pace might have helped to strengthen its overall effect. This book is planted in modern Australian concerns but bounces from republican England to Poland, Ancient Greece and the Soviet Union with barely a breath.

This is a difficult book to review because it took me a while to work out what it was trying to say, and I’m still not sure I’ve quite grasped it. I spent much of the book thinking that the historical and philosophical analysis of democracy and equality was an intellectual means to make an ideological argument (namely that over-regulation by centralised experts should be abandoned for a more libertarian idea). Only when I reached the end did I realise the philosophical analysis of democracy and its value is the actual point, with implications for modern policy only given brief reference along the way. A stronger editor’s hand by the publishers might have helped bring out a greater clarity as to the focus of the book. (along with removing a handful of unfortunate typographical errors).

Speaking of the publisher, only a PR person could be so unthinking as to put Tim Wilson describing the book as “mischievous” on the cover. Wilson occupies precisely the sort of role Berg critiques, and the mischievous line suggests the serious argument is just a front, undermining the vale of the work from the very start.

Instead of being a subversive attempt to re-define democracy in libertarian terms (as Wilson’s quote implies) Berg rightly notes that there’s space for a range of ideological systems to operate within the democratic equality framework. Unfortunately given the short length of the book we don’t get any significant attempt to explore this in any depth. In particular I would have been interesting to see a greater engagement with what is meant by liberty and equality to help flesh out exactly what was intended. Poking a few mainstream media talking heads is hardly sufficient for such a fundamental re-interpretation of our system. He notes that non-state forces like poverty or racism can damage equality and liberty, but we have to infer where he would draw the line. More so, how might we make decisions about this principle? Will a utilitarian ethics suffice or does this have to be much more absolutist? I suspect many will end up agreeing with the general premise of this book (we’re all good democrats) but without it changing their opinions on specific issues).

There are two notable features of this book that deserve recognition and praise. The first is that Berg is making a libertarian argument for democracy. Though he only briefly alludes to it, many who share his ideology have an extremely sceptical view of democratic society (precisely because it allows public interference with individual liberty). It is therefore very encouraging to see the most prolific and engaging libertarian author in Australia clearly stake his flag amongst the democrats.

The other notable feature is the sheer ambition of it. While there is a voluminous literature on these topics, few try and bring it together in such a publicly accessible form and with as clear a public policy concern. In an ideal democracy, books like this would be common place and widely explored and discussed. In our current environment, it’s far too rare. Whatever your take on the merits of the argument, credit should be given for having attempted the work in the first place.

—–
Disclaimer – I’m mates with the author.

The Gillard Project

The Gillard Project by Michael CooneyCooney - Gillard Project

It is often noted that the Labor Party sells more books than their opponents. One reason they do is because there is a vibrancy to their work that resonates widely. (well save Wayne Swan’s contributions). Cooney’s ‘The Gillard Project’ helps show why.

Taking us down the path of an ALP speechwriter (whose ground Graham Freudenberg, Don Watson, James Button and others have magisterially illuminated) this is a passionate defence of the life of a political staffer. It fairly drums along, proudly pulling back the curtain to show the resilience and humour that sustained the Gillard Government.

This is also a somewhat grumpy book. For all Cooney’s erudition he doesn’t offer many telling blows against his political opponents (indeed the Liberal Party is virtually absent from the text while the Greens are just occasional subjects of abuse). Likewise the defence of tribalism and unity makes sense when you consider the pressure faced during the mad summer of 2012-13. But it hardly persuades as a long term justification for the ALP’s union links and organising principle. Indeed it somewhat cheapens it. A means becomes an end. A cause established for the ‘making and unmaking of social conditions’ ends up a club seeking merely to sustain itself.

The easiest path in literary criticism is to attack a writer for not writing the book you think they should have written (or would have written yourself if you could). Let me therefore walk the road most often travelled. The segments and glimpses of how Prime Minister Gillard’s key speeches were put together were a highlight for me and I would have loved much more of it.

Cooney could easily defend himself by noting that many others have tried this approach (most recently James Button). But Gillard’s was a government that was centrally criticised for lacking a narrative and widely assumed to be unable to connect to the punters. Cooney himself regularly attributes a ‘failure to sell’ as crippling to a PM he clearly loves.

So, enquiring minds would love to know, how did his words play into that? We get an honourable mea culpa with the problems of the carbon tax label and ‘we are us’ lines, but why didn’t the bigger picture cut through? Can big picture rhetoric work anymore in this social media age? What’s the purpose and merit of speeches these days? Especially when even the author admits many were purposeless or boring.

The same could be said for policy issues. Again, this is a criticism of what I’d like to have read, rather than did read. But Cooney is not just a word smith but a policy wonk. And the two are intimately involved. So in which direction would he like to see the party go?

That said, this is a fun book, which I devoured on a plane flight home. There are enticing sections of high politics in the global capitals along with relaxed Australian larrikinism, punctuated by drinks and laughs at the beach or the PM’s house.

The vibrancy of this book is a celebration of the sheer bloody hard work of countless invisible staffers who carried this government along on their shoulders. Of course like the tragic Greek plays which Cooney has surely read, suffering alone is not enough for redemption. At least not in this world. Few however will read this book and not acknowledge that, at least they tried.

The New US Strategy Towards Asia: Adapting to the American Pivot

The New US Strategy Towards Asia: Adapting to the American Pivot by William T Tow and Douglas Stuart (eds.)Tow - US Strategy towards Asia

What is the value of an edited book? Or perhaps more precisely, how do edited books achieve the most value? It’s a question that has been on my mind recently as I finished my second edited book (this time a textbook) and as I wonder how I can convince myself to read more of them.

In theory edited books are the best of all worlds. Deep analysis across a broad spectrum of issues, in a format that few single authors could hope to achieve. For academics they’re also seen as a quicker and easier way to both produce and consume a careful analysis of an important topic. Like many academic theories however, reality begs to differ.

Some editors manage to get closer to this mean, and William Tow and Douglas Stuart fit in that category. Tow in particular has produced a range of edited volumes in recent years which are fresh and insightful, packed full of great authors and often very well edited. His ‘Regional-Global Nexus’ is a deserved classic. While this book, ‘The New US Strategy Towards Asia: Adapting to the American pivot’ doesn’t quite hit that high mark, it still meets the measure of what an edited book should be.

This collected text works because there is a clear division of labour. It examines how the US allies (and some partner nations) are responding to the US pivot to Asia, and therefore each chapter features an author describing a country where they hold a particular expertise. This enables careful analysis of the main currents of debate (Taylor on Australia), the reception of different audiences (Misalucha on Philippines) and governance choices in response (Jimbo on Japan). Add in a few overview chapters (Tow on the regional order is particularly good) and there is a clear and coherent book.

That kind of neat separation isn’t so easy for many edited books. They lack the clear boundaries of this one (the US pivot to Asia instead of all US policy in the region) or lack clear divisions to split the chapters (for instance one country, one chapter). The best edited books often also have a clear argument, or particular framework for viewing the topic. That doesn’t quite occur here, and often it is those arguments, rather than the deeper empirical detail which provides the most insight and —for me at least— the most ‘sticking power’ in terms of recalling just what the book was about.

Even better, there has been a careful editing process applied to the chapters, ensuring there is not too great a difference in quality between the individual pieces. The editor’s paradox is that 10% of chapters can take 90% of the work, and too many scholars are unwilling to commit to that. As such readers often find these books hard to consume cover to cover, with both subjects and writing quality bouncing all over the place. In this case however the language is easy to read and the standards consistent.

As should be obvious by this point, this is a book for and by scholars. I’d like to recommend it, given how vital the issue is to understanding the world today. But I don’t blame the general public for being just as wary of edited books as most academics are. In addition the $150+ price tag is an extremely high fence that will keep most readers at bay. And that’s a shame, but that’s the story of edited books. As a profession I think we produce too many of them, for too little return. This one however makes a powerful case that when done well, they are worth the effort. For editors, authors and readers alike.

Foreign Policy Making in Taiwan: From Principles to Pragmatism

Foreign Policy Making in Taiwan: From Principles to Pragmatism by Dennis HickeyHickey - FP in Taiwan

In preparing for a recent work trip to Taiwan (my first visit), this was ideal plane flight prep material. Using a good mix of academic categorisation and organisation along with clear writing and good historical details, Hickey provides a strong introduction to Taiwan’s foreign policy.

Perhaps most interestingly, he shows that this small ‘state’ (only 22 countries worldwide formally recognise it) is both shaped by large systemic factors and yet retains a substantial scope for independent action and control over its path. Hickey also demonstrates how democratic governance has brought as many challenges as blessings for helping Taiwan secure its existence in international affairs.

A good primer for those interested in the island’s politics or the way small states try and survive. While I visited several very good bookshops in Taipei, there wasn’t much english language material on Taiwan today and cross-strait relations. If anyone has some good suggestions, I’d be quite keen to hear.

From Third World to First: The Singapore Story: 1965-2000

From Third World to First: The Singapore Story: 1965-2000 by Lee Kuan Yew LKY - Singapore Story

I had been meaning to read this book for a while, and after hearing of Lee Kuan Yew’s worsening condition last week I finally pulled it off my shelf. I’m very glad I did.

To be a ‘great man of history’ you usually have to lead a large nation or embody a clear and significant culture or ideology. Lee Kuan Yew did neither, but he was no doubt, a great man.

Lee led a small city state, which both joined and left a larger federation in his time, and was nearly swamped by the much larger states on either side, not to mention Cold War pressures. He was of Chinese ancestry, led a nation with a vocal Malay minority and yet was the so called ‘last Victorian’ in Asia (he was born ‘Harry’ Lee).

The Singapore Story: 1965-2000 begins with Singapore’s dramatic step out of Malaysia and in a very personal way recounts the governance challenges facing the new country. How to get the economy going, how to build a defence force (with a notable cameo from two other beleaguered small states Israel and Taiwan), and how to build a coherent national identity.

Lee presents his approach in relentlessly pragmatic fashion, being swayed by better arguments, or more commonly, persuading everyone else with his better arguments. As such it’s easy to find yourself swept along without taking automatic offense at the anti-democratic or controlling aspects of his policies.

Perhaps most fascinatingly is Lee’s approach to capitalism. While very much convinced of its merits as a necessary framework, he has an alternate approach to the stereotypes of welfare laden Europe or heartless but free America. Lee instituted an early form of compulsory superannuation in the 1960s and soon expanded these accounts to cover housing (Joe Hockey must be jealous), along with medical expenses and other social costs.

This approach of forced savings and government/employer co-contributions is rejected by many free marketers, but if they reject the current welfare model, and want something that can plausibly work towards their ultimate ambitions (low taxes, low debt and a sense of personal responsibility) there’s a lot to like about it. (It’s certainly far more coherent and serious than magic pudding style laffer curves). For the left, these kinds of schemes do offer some challenges, but anything that ensures that we can guarantee long term social support, means tested to ensure that we focus state resources on the most needy is worth seriously exploring.

(This also gives some support to the claim of Adrian Wooldridge and John Micklethwait in The Fourth Revolution: The Global Race to Reinvent the State – which I’ve reviewed here – that the East has supplanted the West as the locus of re-thinking governance)

But back to the book. After covering the affairs inside the state, the second and longer part of the book details Singapore’s relations with the rest of the world. Southeast Asian and key large states get their own chapters (or several in the case of the US and China) and there’s some fascinating detail about how this city state has tried to avoid being squashed by the elephants around it.

That said, this section does also fall into that trap of other ‘great man of history’ books by detailing the many travels and meetings with dignitaries that your narrator held over the years. After a while, it can drag on, and for the general reader I’d recommend just skimming quickly through. Then again, if Singapore-Thailand relations are your real passion in life, do go right ahead and read it closely.

For few people is the term ‘Father’ of their nation quite so true. According to a friend from Singapore, the sense of loss after LKY’s passing is just like that of a family member’s death. A student of mine currently studying over there reports lines running kilometre after kilometre of people waiting to pay their respects.

Such images might bring to mind the fakery and fanaticism of dictators. And while LKY was happy to use the cane (or detention without trial) to further his cause, he was not just feared but loved. He took a desperately poor ‘tropical slum’ and made it coherent, rich, influential and safe.

A remarkable tale, and a remarkable book. Highly recommended.

National Security and Double Government

National Security and Double Government by Michael J. GlennonGlennon - Double government

For many people, US President Barack Obama’s term in office has been a disappointment. Having campaigned on the theme of ‘change’, his foreign policy has closely resembled the second term of the Bush Administration. Why is this so?

It could be Obama never believed what he said, or perhaps he did, but was persuaded in government to stay the course. In ‘National Security and Double Government’, Michael J. Glennon offers a third option, that thanks to the network of national security organisations established under Harry Truman and expanded in size and power ever since (the NSA, NSC, Joint Chiefs of Staff etc), Obama was never really in charge of his government’s policy.

To make clear, Glennon is not suggesting any mass conspiracy. His concern is not about nefarious individuals, but the way a relatively close knit and largely obscure mid-level range of institutions operates to drive policy, often in the face of the wishes of the visible (and publicly responsible) institutions such as the President and Congress.

Borrowing from the great English commentator Walter Bagehot’s analysis of the monarchy-legislative diarchy in 19th century England, Glennon describes this as a ‘double government’. In the case of the US, it is staffed by decent, intelligent and hard working people, but a group which tends to support a certain style of policy (more often military and intelligence than political or diplomatic) and operate without significant oversight, as a way to deal with the nation’s threats. Foremost among them, international terrorism.

Glennon – again never implying a conspiracy – details substantial evidence of the way bureaucratic organisations in the United States, especially the military and intelligence agencies work to shape, subvert or even mislead the leaders of the government in Congress and the White House. Congress is kept in the dark, presidents battle day by day to make the smallest of changes to the course of the ship of state. In turn, the general public keeps blaming the public ‘Madisonian’ institutions the founders established, for a failure that is often tied to the role of largely private ‘Trumanite’ organisations and individuals.

This is a depressing book. It suggests that the War on Terrorism (at an estimated cost of $3.3 Trillion) is starting to feed upon the democratic structure of the US. It suggests a profound institutional failure is underway that will be extremely difficult to fix. As Glennon notes, many of the seemingly ‘simple’ changes, such as greater oversight by Congress or the Judiciary have been tried and continue to fail.

For example, the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court approved 99.9% of all warrant requests between 1979 and 2011. To repeat, 99.9%. Glennon in particular notes the co-option of the courts and congressional committees to the public servants they are supposed to monitor. Some of the quotes he provides suggest a serious dereliction of duty by key individuals who, under the honourable motive of trying to protect the country from external threats, have guaranteed harm at home by abandoning their tasks of oversight and providing checks and balances.

The only plausible way forward Glennon suggests, is a revitalisation of civic virtue. A role demanded of the public by Madison, Jefferson and Washington, but since abandoned as Republican ideals gave way to liberal notions which suggest a citizen’s only duty is to abide by the law and pay (minimal) taxes. Representative government, and in turn the bureaucracy that feeds it can not run without an engaged public. Cruelly however, the more the public institutions seem to fail (Congress has an approval rate of 15%), the more the public reduce their attention.

There’s much to recommend about this short book, though it often resorts to inferring and supposing the presence of the network it focuses on, rather than clearly mapping its contours. Perhaps rightly, Glennon doesn’t try and single out specific individuals as the key sources of blame, but nor does he provide enough institutional analysis of what organisations and at what level the network operates at. Strangely this sense is actually deepened by the presence of an interesting chapter looking at alternative explanations for the continuity such as rational actor models, or organisational behaviour etc. This is to Glennon’s academic credit, but I would have liked a little bit more of a journalistic edge, more interviews and clearer descriptions of on the ground behaviour.

I am not entirely persuaded by the final thesis, but I think this is an important read for those interested in how governments manage national security issues, as well as those seeking insight to US foreign policy and the War on Terror. It shows how many of the failures we might easily prescribe to ignorance, incompetence or malevolence, are often best explained by boring but extremely serious institutional failure. The Trumanite network that Glennon condemns are all filled with good people who are desperately trying to protect the US in this era of anywhere, anytime threats. But if this compelling book is to be believed, the state is paying an extremely high cost for their loyalty. New ways are needed, and soon.

Hard Interests, Soft Illusions: Southeast Asia and American Power

Hard Interests, Soft Illusions: Southeast Asia and American Power  by Natasha Hamilton-Hart Hamilton-Hart - Hard interests

The disciplines that study international affairs generally start with a baseline assumption of a rational actor who looks out to the world and coldly calculates national interests, objectives, identifies threats and in turn, fashions a strategy. This picture of a homo strategist however, is a myth.

In this clever book, Natasha Hamilton-Hart examines why Southeast Asian nations tend to support the United States. Rather than simply being a question of objective alignment with their national interests, Hamilton-Hart shows how these calculations are made by a foreign policy community that has its own distinct patterns of thought, standards of information and other social forms that shape their assessment of the world.

Hamilton-Hart’s argument is that it is the material interests of the regimes in Southeast Asia that best explains why these states support the US. The US has often helped these regimes take power, or provided support to those in power. And this, far more than global balance of power questions determines the alignments of these countries or their response to international events. This is both about powerful sources that drive belief and powerful community dynamics that help re-enforce certain beliefs while excluding others.

Now, Hamilton-Hart tends to see much of this reason for supporting the US as somewhat cynical and based on illusions, and to the extent you agree or disagree may shape your view of much of the key data chapters and analysis. I tended to find my enthusiasm for the book waned as it went on. It’s hard to find great evidence for these issues, and some sections seemed further away from the core issues than was helpful. Some of the authors interpretations of the 70+ interviews also seemed less objective than I might have preferred.

But regardless of these quibbles there’s a central methodological insight that is vital here, regardless of your views. Namely, the need to recognise the limitation of the homo strategist model and adopt a more complex way of investigating why foreign policy actors hold the beliefs they do about the world and how those beliefs are developed, tested, re-enforced or challenged within the communities they operate in.

As Hamilton-Hart alludes to near the end, if we accept that there is merit to her judgement that material interests of the regimes in Southeast Asia matter then, there are vital and challenging policy implications.

First, this makes the support of Australia’s neighbourhood for the US much more brittle than it may otherwise seem. Not only could it be pulled away by Chinese (or someone else’s) resources in a relatively straight forward fashion, but because of the re-enforcing dynamics inside the community, mass opinion will barely seem to change until it shifts suddenly and substantially. Second, the US’s challenge is not about re-assurance or deterrence, but on the economic and political side of the ledger, helping to provide sufficient prosperity, regime legitimacy and rewards so that allegiance endures. This doesn’t have to be thought of in a corrupt, feudalist fashion, but you also wouldn’t be totally wrong to see parts of it that way too.

This is an important book. First for better understanding how Southeast Asia actually operates, and for encouraging much more grounded thinking about how foreign and defence policy is developed in the real world and how social forces do so much to shape what is seen and heard. Perhaps my own reaction of doubt is actually just because it forced some uncomfortable thoughts about the limited material I access and just how objective and evidenced based my own beliefs are.

A really good book. More for the scholar or student than general reader, but there’s much to gain for anyone interested in international politics and the future of the US-China struggle for influence in Asia.

Somebody Else’s Century: East and West in a Post-Western World

Somebody Else’s Century: East and West in a Post-Western World  by Patrick Smith Smith - somebody elses

We know Asia is changing materially, but what about mentally?

So poses question at the heart of this fascinating little meditation. Patrick Smith, an American journalist who has lived for decades in Asia approaches the question of the century in a unique and engaging way.

Focusing on China, Japan and India, Smith explores how these societies have dealt with the question of ‘becoming modern’ and the split identity this has forced on them. Western modernity and ‘things’ and eastern history and ‘spirit’. Putting aside discussions of GDP and terms of trade he focuses on how these societies have been molded by their engagement with the west, and now as they grow and strengthen are increasingly seeking to mold themselves. Through many well told stories of travel and conversation, Smith shows how the challenges of remembering and forgetting, building and destroying, separating and combining are occurring in Asia as it throws off a position of identifying itself in split terms or in location to the west.

Smith argues that what we are seeing is not a simple shift of power to the east, let alone the emergence of an ‘Asian century’ but rather an end to the divide of east and west. These countries are not becoming western, nor abandoning the west. They are finally coming to fuse these notions into a more organic though distinctly modern whole. Though as he is quick to point out, the vast challenges facing these three societies are bewildering and while he sees this moment as one of their shift towards something new, he seems to have doubts about the capacity of all of them to realise it.

There are many thought provoking threads in this book, and while Smith covers much, there’s often a charming modesty about his desire simply to explore these issues, rather than declare a particular new epoch or term and claim his spot on the book tour circuit. Indeed, words like ‘meditation’ and ‘essays’ seem to better reflect the nature of this publication. As such, while he seems to pose arguments and suggest answers, I never felt a need to agree or dispute as much as I have with other writers on these topics. Doing so seems to provide little value, rather there’s simply a chance to explore and expand your thinking about the changing dynamics of our world.

Fascinating, elegant and thought-provoking. Well recommended.