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Matthew Ader

Bridging the Gap: Getting Climate Academics and Security Practitioners Round the Table

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Pixabay/TRASMO, 2017 – A Sahelian village.

It is a truism in British and American government circles that climate change does and will continue to lead to conflict, both between and within states. Yet, a yawning divide exists between this group and their academic counterparts. Environmental security academics in the Anglophone scholarly community are far more dubious of its impact, an empirical evidence remaining highly contested – for example, conflict in the Sahel is often linked strongly to climate change driven resource competition, even though the area of arable land is increasing in the region. This has led to intellectual analysis of policy truisms regarding climate change to remain missing in action. The lack of such a critical factor does not bode well for our ability to effectively navigate the onrushing threat of climate change. Action must be taken to understand and address this disconnect. 

What is the divide? 

In his first address to the United Nations in 2009, President Obama directly linked climate and conflict, saying “More frequent droughts and crop failures breed hunger and conflict.” In 2010, the Pentagon followed suit, naming climate change as a major threat to US security – a theme it has continued with in varying intensity over the last decade. The UK’s Development, Concepts, and Doctrine Centre concurs, as do many other nations and leaders around the world.  

Given the seeming consensus of policymakers, one would be forgiven in assuming similar agreement among academics. In fact, the notion that climate change and conflict are linked is the subject of serious debate. Scholars like Marshall Burke and David Lobell have argued that higher temperatures are tied directly to increased incidence of conflict. But sceptics like Nils Petter Gleditsch argue this is unfounded in the literature; while Halvard Buhaug directly challenged Burke and Lobell’s thesis as based off inaccurate modelling. Tor Benjaminsen found that comparing conflict data and weather records in Mali, “offers little support for the notion that climate variability drives intercommunal conflicts.” The closest thing to a recognisable consensus position was articulated by a 2019 roundtable of eleven leading environmental scientists, which concluded that, “climate has already increased the risk of armed conflict, but the effect is small relative to other factors.” 

This academic position and debates surrounding it are clearly a far cry from the arguments made by policymakers and politicians. It is true that academics can afford caution, while governments must prepare for the worst. Nonetheless, the certainty of governments, compared to the uncertainty of academia, speaks to a worrying divide. It suggests that policymaking is perhaps not based on the best available academic evidence. This is made more concerning still by the mounting challenge of climate change. As its impacts worsen, does the infrastructure which would allow climate academics to inform policymaking exist? The current state of affairs suggests that it does not, and in turn that security practitioners may make decisions without a full grasp of the environmental facts on the ground.   

How did this divide occur? 

A key factor explaining why environmental security scholars do not seem to interact with defence is that they often view securitisation of environmental issues with deep concern. Environmental security is a sub-set of social science and geography, both of which tend to analyse governments from a highly critical perspective. Some also believe – not without cause – that securitising climate change will not help those directly impacted by it. These tendencies are exacerbated by their ‘outsider’ status. Defence think tanks like RUSI, IISS, and CSIS have the ear of policymakers. And, while said organisations do increasingly consider climate change as part of their portfolio, there are no dedicated equivalents which centre their research and policy recommendations on environmental security. Moreover, in the US in particular, defence academics often rotate through policy jobs – environmental security scholars tend not to have the same exposure to government.  Given this scepticism and isolation, it is unsurprising that their work does not cross into the policy world. 

The defence community is not blameless in this. Strategic studies academics generally do not publish on climate change. Leading national security websites like War on the Rocks, Strategy Bridge, and Strife have relatively few pieces on the subject. Those that do tend to engage more with the development and human security implications of climate change, rather than operational and strategic impact. As one academic told me in 2019, “strategy and climate change live in different universes.” 

This state of affairs is difficult to change. Given the underrepresentation of climate change in defence literature, writing on it is more time consuming and less likely to pay-off in career rewards than a more conventional topic. Creating modules and supervising PhDs in the field is similarly complex. While this issue is particularly acute for career academics, think-tankers are also subject to it. Audiences in government are often more interested in great power competition or than climate change. 

One last factor is folk International Relations knowledge. This is the habit of ingrained assumptions about international politics seem sensible but may not survive scrutiny. For example, resource scarcity is generally assumed to drive conflict. In fact, that is highly contested. Some work, dating back to Paul and Anne Ehrlich’s 1968 book The Population Bomb, argues that it does. But more recent scholarship tends to disagree, noting that conflict is generally more prevalent in times of relative plenty, as armies require a minimum level of resources to field and sustain. These assumptions are generally unconscious, yet they do influence how institutions look at problems – potentially making them less receptive to academic work which goes against the grain. 

How can we solve the problem? 

Much more work is required to fully understand the nature of the split, but the above analysis suggests that building trust between policymakers and academics, and increasing access to the field, would pay dividends.  

First, the UK or US governments could make a concerted effort to reach out to environmental security scholars. For example, an annual conference examining climate and conflict would provide academics with a consistent platform to speak to defence policymakers and soldiers, in the vein of RUSI’s Land Warfare Conference. This could help drive research by making it clear that the defence establishment is listening. On a similar note, authorities should invest more money in grants to help direct work on particular areas of interest within the climate change field. Given the impact of COVID-19 on the academic job market, this might be especially effective now. 

Second, defence academics could assist in increasing accessibility to the field, for both authors and readers. Environmental security scholars, on the whole, write on either personal blogs or in journals. This limits the audience for their work. It also makes it harder for interested students and early career researchers to break into the field. The defence community in particular has an extensive network of websites and blogs with high circulation which could deliver scholarship to relevant stakeholders. Finding ways to collaborate with academics to highlight research on these popular sites could drive engagement and debate on the subject, including bringing it to public attention in ways which may lead to productive advocacy – or at least greater scrutiny of policy on climate and conflict by the public. 

Climate change is and will continue to reshape the world in dramatic and unforeseen ways. There is a significant divide between governmental positions and academic consensus on its security impact. This is not due to failure on either side, but rather interlocking structural pressures and perception gaps. Modest interventions in partnership and publishing could start to bridge the gap, creating better policy and more effective scholarship. 

 

Matthew is a third-year student doing War Studies. He has worked as an intern in a number of security consultancy firms. His academic interests gravitate loosely towards understanding challenges and opportunities for Anglo-American strategy in the 21st century (and also being snide about Captain America’s command ability). He is an editor at Wavell Room, among other publications. You can follow him on Twitter: @AderMatthew.

Parsing the Safe Passage

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by Matthew Ader

“They can’t fight!” by Frederick Burr Opper, January 1896, originally published in Puck. (Image credit: National Archives)

Scholars and policymakers around the world are turning to history to understand how to navigate the onrushing collision between the ailing United States of America and an increasingly assertive China. The most famous example, expounded upon at length in Graham Allison’s Destined for War, is the clash between Sparta and Athens as documented by Thucydides. However, the most recent hegemonic transition, that of Britain to the United States, deserves significant attention – it is well-sourced, exhaustively documented, and involves national actors still relevant today. That makes it a valuable case study.

However, little work has yet been done to model this period in a way, which would allow the clean transfer of lessons learnt to the modern context. Even Kori Schake’s Safe Passage, written explicitly with the intent of informing Sino-American competition, is an excellent history before it is a work of political science. The relative paucity of overarching models means that policymakers must either fall back on heuristics or delve into intricate historical details.

This article attempts to split the difference by deriving a broader model of hegemonic transition from the circumstances of the Anglo-American case, with the hope that it will ease comparative work between the historical and contemporary situations.

I argue that the transition can be broken down into five distinct phases:

  1. Potential for competition (1756 – 1823) – the United States begins to grow in capability, but Britain is not yet aware of the potential threat.
  2. Recognition (1823) – Britain recognises the United States as a potential threat.
  3. The window of opportunity (1823 – 1914) – Britain conducts policy to (in most cases) conciliate the United States as the two nations move towards parity.
  4. Moment of transition (1916) – the United States surpasses Britain, as a result of British losses and American industrial growth during the First World War.
  5. Settling into a new order (1917 onwards) – the United States becomes the new global rule-setter, and Britain adjusts its position accordingly.

The United States’ growth in power began before the American Revolution, with the Seven Years War and American independence, but a combination of internal weakness and British distraction with eastern conquests and ambitious Corsicans – not to mention America’s poor performance in the War of 1812 – meant that it took until the 1820s for senior British officials to directly recognise the future potential of the United States as a major disruptive influence. Notably, and seemingly uniquely in terms of hegemonic transitions, this was recognised long before the United States even began to approach military parity with Britain. This may be due to traditional British lack of confidence in its own power, and also the naval character of said power – as Lord Palmerston observed in 1858, the simple reality of American geography rendered it invulnerable to British domination even in the absence of a major US force.

Given that Britain recognised the potential for competition relatively early, they had a large window of opportunity to apply policy. Instead of launching a preventive war, which would have been ineffective given the fact that Britain could not achieve lasting dominance over the United States, they pursued a consistent policy of conciliation. During the Oregon boundary dispute (1846), the Trent Affair (1861), and the Venezuelan Debt Crisis (1895), among other crises, Britain de-escalated even when it held the upper hand in coercive force. British bankers and merchants were encouraged to invest in the United States, even as propaganda about a joint Anglo-American destiny, linked by shared Anglo-Saxon heritage, percolated into American culture.

This was sagacious policy and was enabled in large part by the early recognition of the potential threat the United States posed and subsequently extensive window of opportunity. Given 80 years, most diplomatic relationships can be transformed in major ways – this is much less viable over shorter time frames. The result was that at the moment of transition, towards the end of the First World War – as British policymakers acknowledged that American industrial power so outmatched their own that America held the upper hand in any interaction, as was evidenced by the Paris Peace Conference and the 1922 Washington Naval Treaty – the United States looked on Britain not as a weakened rival, but as a culturally, economically, and at least somewhat strategically aligned partner. Debate persists, however, on the specifics of the Anglo-American transition of power, with many scholars placing it in 1945. However, I would argue that the passage happened in 1916 and was already visible at Versailles. Nevertheless, Britain continued to play a global role arguably disproportionate to its means. The USA, in turn, did not emerge as a hegemon until after the Second World War.

Why A Model?

Given that the historical record exists, why would a model of that transition be helpful? Principally because it allows clearer comparative analysis and the codification of lessons learnt.

First, in terms of comparative analysis, we can transfer this model to Sino-American relations relatively clearly. The potential for competition existed throughout the 1990s and 2000s as China grew in power, but the distracted United States only recognised the threat in 2009 with the Pivot/Rebalance to Asia. Others would argue that this recognition came even later, with the American declaration of China as a near-peer competitor. The United States is now in the window of opportunity vis a vis China, as the relative gap between the powers narrows, and must implement policy to forestall or cushion its decline. If current trends continue unabated, there will be a moment of transition, either when China peacefully surpasses American power; or when its aggressive moves run into a mutual red line.

Rather than attempting to draw difficult comparisons based on historical events in the Anglo-American relationship, the existence of the model allows references to history without getting lost in the details. Similarly, the model allows a clearer discussion of lessons learnt. British success stemmed in large part, I would argue, from early recognition of the American potential as a competitor. Others might suggest it was the result of effective policy within the window of opportunity. A model equips us with a common vocabulary to discuss a difficult topic.

This is not, of course, perfect. The model itself is applicable to Anglo-American hegemonic transition, and I believe Sino-American too, but it carries with it the weight of hindsight – assuming as it does that China will at some point fight the United States or move past it in some peaceful yet vital way. Equally plausible is the idea that China may fall short of hegemony, not due to American action within the window of opportunity, but internal socioeconomic weakness. Another possibility not fully incorporated in this model is that the United States and China may reach parity and remain there for a long period, with neither able to act as a hegemon. And, of course, in the general sense, having an avowedly simplifying model often makes things more complex, not less.

Despite that, given the growing importance of hegemonic transition, it is important to ensure rigour and clear communication in debates around it. This model, or something like it, may go some way towards helping in that effort.

Matthew Ader is an undergraduate student in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London with an interest in climate change and grand strategy. He tweets occasionally from @AderMatthew.

 

 

Why do so few Scholars Study the Intersection of Climate and Security?

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by Matthew Ader

Climate change or security, a question of the one or the other? (Image credit: Lisa Benson)

I have had two and a half hours of teaching on climate change and security in two years, and I am unlikely to get any more. BA and MA courses at the King’s Department of War Studies do not offer any modules about climate change. Neither do security studies courses at Exeter, St Andrews, Oxford, or Cambridge. The US has equally slim pickings. Where tuition does exist, it tends to focus on human security and development; not strategy and operations.

And yet climate change is reshaping the world in unpredictable ways. Multiple governments even named it as a major security threat. Academics correlate climate change, if a little tentatively, with increased rates of conflict. However, scholars of strategy and war do not seem to focus on it. I surveyed thirty-four International Relations and Security Studies journals – all those with an H-Index above 30. Since 1995, these journals have, between them, published 45 articles about the intersection of climate change and conflict. As a matter of contrast, just one of those journals, International Organization, published 4356 total articles in the same period.

This initial survey reveals a worrying gap in the literature. Security courses that rely on this research are the incubator for future policymakers and analysts, while academics are often called upon to advise governments. A failure to address climate change risks depriving the next generation of security leaders and thinkers of a solid grounding in an important subject. At best, this may leave governments scrambling to cope with unforeseen challenges. At worst, it could lead to the creation of bad policy – or even open the door for malign actors who take advantage of climate change to push other agendas.

Why has security academia not fully engaged in this subject? Partially, it is because academics are very busy and have many existing commitments. Undertaking novel research or designing new courses, especially when the literature is so sparse, is time-consuming. It is also risky; work on climate change may not be valued in the same way as more conventional topics when hunting for jobs. Worse still, there is little research funding in climate change and security. Ministries and Departments of Defence have declared climate change to be a threat but have yet to put their money where their mouth is. These challenges, combined with the broader structural precarity of academic careers, militate against researchers investigating climate change and security.

These generally applicable concerns are worsened by personnel policy. Security studies departments are not hiring climate change experts. For example, of the eighty academics in the Department of War Studies at King’s College London, only two mention climate as a research interest. This makes cross-sectoral research more difficult. Even more concerning still is that such a deficit reduces opportunities for students interested in climate and security to study the issue. This, in turn, perpetuates the existing scarcity, creating a negative feedback loop. Of course, it would be unfair and inaccurate to blame this purely on hiring practices. A department cannot hire scholars who do not exist. However, it is at least partially a chicken-and-egg problem. The lack of cross-sectoral research and limited tuition opportunities addressing climate and security make it harder to attract additional academic talent to the field.

A related challenge is that climate change does not fit within traditional models of security analysis. It is not a human actor, it does not deploy discrete methods, and it is difficult to analyse through the conventional lenses of IR theory or grand strategy. Grappling with the climate requires scientific and geographical knowledge which falls outside the specialisms of most security scholars. For example, the fierce debate among geographers over the linkage between climate and conflict depends on comparing rainfall data against incidences of violence. Unless an academic is trained to a high level in meteorological modelling, they are unlikely to be able to engage with the discussion in depth. The one partial exception to this is the Human Security field. Human security, with its focus on different issues impacting ordinary people, has covered climate change in more detail. However, its perspective has more to do with development and local interventions than big-picture decision-making. While there are absolutely insights to be gained from that discipline for national policymakers, it does not answer the broader questions required to inform strategic decision-making.

Lastly, while we are seeing the impacts of climate change now, its most dramatic impacts lie in the future. Mass climate migration, unprecedented littoral urbanization, and irreversible water scarcity are not science fiction but their true implications are only just emerging. Scholars are understandably reticent to engage in speculation – it is risky and can lead to poor quality research. This is especially true for security studies and international politics, which are wildly unpredictable. As General McMaster noted, “we have a perfect record of predicting future wars…and that record is 0%.”

This is compounded by the creeping nature of climate change. On 12 September 2001, nearly every security scholar turned their attention to terrorism and the Middle East. I’m sure that a similar statistical analysis of journals from 1985 to 2000 would show relatively few articles about Salafi jihadism, but academics were able to apply their existing knowledge to the new problem. It is not clear that this will happen with climate change, because there will probably not be a single dramatic event which changes conversations and research priorities. Rather, it will incrementally alter global conditions over the span of decades, shaping a new normal.

Such a slow-moving emergency is unlikely to attract enough research to effectively inform policy – especially given that great power competition, terrorism, and biosecurity will, among other issues, remain pressing concerns throughout the period. This is worsened, as noted, by the requirement for expert scientific knowledge to properly study climate change. In short, there is unlikely to be a catalyst for the study of climate change, and if there is, security scholars may struggle to obtain the necessary scientific knowledge to properly engage with the issue in a timely fashion.

There is no single policy prescription that can magically fix this deficit. However, it is a problem – and it must be rectified. Climate change is actively reshaping the world. If security academics do not provide perspectives on it, the security implications may be ignored. Worse, they might be dishonestly weaponised to achieve a larger agenda. We have seen this already with alt-right groups using fear of climate migration as a recruiting tactic. The past four years have clearly shown that radical ideologies can find purchase at the highest levels of government. In the absence of informed views from authoritative sources, decisionmakers may turn to confident ideologues for answers.

At the end of that lecture on climate change, I asked the lecturer what the strategic plan was for dealing with the mass migrations, droughts, and water wars he predicted. He said that there was not a single one. The gap in the research is no one’s fault. But catastrophe does not care about intention. Policymakers will require effective advice to navigate the new challenges of this century. The academic community should mobilise to provide it – and security academics should lead the charge.

[1] This was achieved by searching their archives for all articles from 1995-2020 with “climate change” in the title and manually sorting through. This method is necessarily vulnerable to personal judgement and can exclude work on topics adjacent to climate change & security i.e. food scarcity.

Matthew Ader is a second-year student doing War Studies. He has worked as an intern in a number of security consultancy firms. His academic interests gravitate loosely towards understanding challenges and opportunities for Anglo-American strategy in the 21st century (and also being snide about Captain America’s command ability). He is also an editor for Roar News, and has written for a number of security publications – most especially Wavell Room. You can follow him on Twitter: @AderMatthew.