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Eva, phD candidate at the University of Sussex. “Intellectual Property and the Genetic Dispositif of Life: The Changing Role of Intellectual Property Law in Governing Participation and Knowledge in the Bioeconomy.” Submitted for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy University of Sussex, May 2015. Pp 71-74. LJS

In this context, the role of IP can be re-read as contributing to the governing of life, which allows for example for a different perspective on statements made by representatives of international organisations emphasising the fundamental compatibility of health concerns and IP (see WHO, WIPO, and WTO 2013). Such statements and programmes seeking to reconcile IPRs with public health can now be understood as an accommodation or “constant adaptation of the legal order to scientific discoveries, to the progress of economic organization and technique, […] and to the requirements of contemporary consciousness” (Foucault 2008, 161). In this sense, these statements on IP can be understood as a product of tensions between the aim of fostering the life of populations and the normalisation of knowledge over life for their economic circulation. As the next chapters point out, at this intersection IP’s role goes beyond the sheer commodification of life, with IPRs exerting normalising and economic powers on the accepted scientific conception of life. This governmental accommodation of challenges in the name of life can be traced in other ways. Elbe points out that “biopower […] [was] not merely deployed downwards from the state into society, but [was] consentingly invoked by many social groups […]. The health of all, he noted, became a priority of all” (Elbe 2005, 407). As subjects were increasingly “encouraged to view […] lives and identities as a type of enterprise” (McNay 2009, 56), they began to be actively engaged in generating knowledge about their body. As a result, “active patients” (N. Rose 2007a, 11) began to demand access to genetic knowledge about their own life and health, thus challenging the exclusivity of the IP system in a bid to improve their own condition – highlighting the radical potential of biopolitical challenges. In responding to these challenges demanding participation in the bioeconomy, the IP regime comes under pressure to ‘governmentalise’, and contributes to the management of the political problem of life as a tactics of government. 1.3. The limits of productive biopolitics The notion of a productive way of governing life in a new governmentality has given rise to a variety of critical studies, which interpret Foucault’s work in different ways (see for example Esposito 2008; T. C. Campbell 2011; Clough and Willse 2011; Debrix and Barder 2012; see also overview in Lemke 2007, 9). Not all emphasise governing through the conduct of conduct and conditions of productiveness which “[seek to] increase the means of subsistence, to augment the wealth, strength and greatness of the state, to increase the happiness and prosperity of its inhabitants, and to multiply their numbers” (Dean 2010, 125). This section briefly outlines the difference between an emphasis on the production of the conditions of freedom and the study of biopower at its limits, where the distinctions between sovereign and governmental power exercises are blurred. Agamben presents a reading of biopolitics that is deeply connected to considerations of (state) sovereignty, looking at the “hidden point of intersection between the juridico-institutional and the biopolitical models of power” (Agamben 1998, 6). In contrast to Foucault’s work, in Agamben’s interpretation “the production of a biopolitical body is the original activity of sovereign power”, which places this connection between biopolitics and sovereign power at the heart of “Western politics”, in which “the inclusion of zoē in the polis (…) is, in itself, absolutely ancient” (Ibid., 6 and 9). This entails a “correction” (Ibid., 9) of Foucault’s understanding of the emergence of biopolitics as a marker for modern politics and reconceptualises biopolitics as a foundational element of state power. Agamben’s analysis focuses on the most “exemplary places of modern biopolitics: the concentration camp and the structure of the great totalitarian states of the twentieth century” (Ibid., 4). Lemke argues that as Agamben’s account fails to acknowledge “that biopolitics is, at its heart, a political economy of life, his [Agamben’s] analysis remains tied to sovereign power and blind towards all those mechanisms, which operate below or beyond the law” (Lemke 2007, 80).13 Similarly Fassin points out that Foucault was not concerned primarily with ontological questions of bios and zoē, but “rather [with] the way in which impersonal ‘living beings’ were turned into populations and individuals, how governmentality and subjectification shaped our modern vision of the world and of humanity” (Fassin 2009, 47; in a similar vein Lazzarato 2002, 101; Meloni 2010). Furthermore, in the context of his analysis of neoliberalism, Foucault cautioned against neoliberal “state phobia” and its “inflationary critical currency” which leads “an analysis of social security and the administrative apparatus […] to the analysis of concentration camps” (Foucault 2008, 187f.). A similar caution should be made against focusing critiques exclusively on the extremes of biopolitical strategies at the expense of an analysis of the productive operation of power within the neoliberal system. However, important analyses of the operation of power at the limits of biopolitics have drawn attention to the conditions of possibility on which the concept of biopolitics is founded. Selmeczi shows that the biopolitical fostering of some parts of populations always also entails an abandonment of others – which are not counted amongst the numbers making up the respective population (Selmeczi 2009). Furthermore, analyses emphasise the politics of death at the limits of biopolitics (for thanatopolitics, or the “politics of death”, see Foucault 1997, 254ff.; Clough and Willse 2011; Ailio 2013; evaluated in detail by T. C. Campbell 2011; Esposito 2008, 110ff.; T. C. Campbell and Sitze 2013) showing how the securing of the life of the population justifies death and destruction at its limits, and as part of its exercise. The promotion of life in the liberal system produces life in a way that necessarily also depends on death – as shown for example in the Obama administration’s condemnation of torture methods, which however was accompanied by a normalisation of coercive practices and increased reliance on drone strikes (see Clough and Willse 2011, 2; see also Dillon and Reid 2009). Godoy’s analysis Of Medicines and Markets suggests a particular connection between IP and biopower in its concluding remarks on “intellectual property and human rights in the free trade era”, arguing: “It is difficult to imagine a more quintessential example of biopower than intellectual property” (Godoy 2013, 141). She does not elaborate on this statement in much greater detail, except for finding in contemporary Western politics “it become[s] necessary, in the name of prosperity and progress, to sign laws condemning the poor to lack medicines”, which “is the genius of biopower; it permeates false divisions between private and public, […] determining who lives and who dies, all in the name of scientific advancement and the rule of law” (Ibid., 140). Explicitly drawing on Agamben’s reading of Foucault’s Biopower (and that of Hardt and Negri 2000), she thus equates IP’s role in determining the price of medicines with the power to decide “who lives and who dies” (Godoy 2013, 140, Footnote 10). Godoy’s brief statements thus find the globally enforced system of minimum standards of IP protection enshrined in TRIPS to be implicated in a more sovereign exercise of biopower, instrumental in drawing the dividing line between those that “count” and those that are left “abandoned” (Selmeczi 2009). In contrast, Pottage’s succinct reflections on IP find “the patent process […] almost the paradigmatic example of a bio-political programme”, which “[does] not identify [itself] with one side of the distinction between norm and nature, rather [it] treat[s] the distinction itself as a provisional programme which serves to govern [its] own operation” (Pottage 1998, 746 f.). This interpretation of IP as biopolitical programme emphasises IP’s contingency on changing definitions of ‘truths’, rather than a re-inscription of absolute boundaries. The notion of IP as a biopolitical programme can be interpreted as an earlier statement on the “responsive” function of law (Golder and Fitzpatrick 2009) within governmentality, reflecting “the productive capacity of power” (Lemke 2005, 3). This moves away from a straightforward equation of IP with biopower, and rather begins to explore the interaction of IP with notions of life, where IP re-inscribes boundaries and faces challenges in the name of life.

Nicholas, School of Law, Criminology and Government, University of Plymouth, Plymouth, UK. “Information biopolitics: copyright law and the regulation of life in the network society.” International Review of Law, Computers & Technology, DOI: 10.1080/13600869.2020.1784563. LJS

Justifying his preference to the term ‘information’ instead of ‘intangible’ or ‘abstract objects’ for discussing IP, Drahos explains that ‘information is the daily lifeblood of human agents as communicating beings’ and highlights ‘the pervasive effect that intellectual property rights in information can have on the daily lives of people’ (1996, 171). This alludes to potential negative impacts of patentabilities of genetic material, excessive trademark protections or the socio-cultural dominance of commercial brands. Similarly, by generally replacing ‘content’ with ‘information’, the present discussion will proceed with making a larger scale argument about the impacts of copyright law on the network society. This will build on the idea that humanity and its cultures are being amalgamated with the online network medium, as argued in the previous section. The medium runs on information, of which content, in the sense of mediated transmission and copyrightable material, is only a species. We need to start thinking of content as part of the information flows that are the lifeblood of the hybrid – to paraphrase Haraway – of technology and (networked) humanity. Limitations and power-holds over information that copyright laws entrench are considerably impactful upon a world that is, in more than one ways, forced to be embedded in online technologies; to normalise daily life and its institutions around it. 3.1. Reviewing convergence culture Three key phenomena across the network society – media convergence, participatory culture and collective intelligence – underpin the concept of convergence culture in Jenkins’ account of the same name (2006). This points to the complicated relationship between corporate content production and interconnected consumption and how the two converge. Through mass online community formation processes, such as gossiping, fandom, knowledge communities (like thematic wikis) and social media trending, cultural consumption (alluding to McLuhan’s notions of tribalisation around the medium) expands upon mass production of derivative content (Jenkins 2006) and, further on, of cultural and social capitals (Bourdieu 1986). Culture (and socialisation to that end) as a meaningmaking process would always draw from existing symbols and shared knowledge reference pools (Coombe 1998). Communication is conducted via references to language, landmarks, mythologies, texts, news and melodies; social participants interpret and recycle this material, around which social continuity is established, associations take shape and culture moves on. Folklore and culture would play that role of common reference pool, until gradually displaced by industrial production of commercialised entertainment (Jenkins 2006). Regarding smaller, ethnic or national traditional communities, recognition of the inherent social function of culture and the need to preserve the integrity of its relationship with populations is articulated in cultural heritage protection laws.2 With Western societies becoming more complex, the inevitable industrialisation and mass commercialisation of cultural production upset this schema, saturating the cultural landscape, eventually defining it (Lange and Powell 2009). Yet, as Benkler (2006) notes, the network society challenged the market-based model of cultural production, forwarding a new folk culture through the users’ engagement with knowledge and content. ICTs contributed to that by itemising information onscreen. Social development and cultural processes become visible, palpable through online service account activities and records, as well as through data traces. In fact, online activities produce data – produce new information. Content per se becomes malleable, available to manipulate, interactive and ‘transferable’. Images, texts, computer code, they are all reproduced, embedded in part or in full in other online artefacts to then be stored, forwarded or shared. In practical terms, copying and unauthorised reproduction form necessary operation and routinely part of everyday engagement with (and in) online communications, from automatically made temporary copies, to sharing fragments of information – like a piece of text – images and tunes, to even reading online (Boyle 2008). The second important feature of this setting lies in the online medium’s capacity to construct a new communications language out of relations between links, pictures, video files and social networking software functions. This is an aspect of the already examined conceptual power of the medium as a language. Most characteristically, the convergence culture experience frames the capacity of networked, digitally bred generations to speak (Lessig 2008). 3.2. The copyright setting At the same time, the spread of digital technologies, enabling mass copying and distribution of music and films, has been largely associated with the big changes in the regulation of copyright law in the mid-1990s, including the TRIPS Agreement3 as well as the two WIPO Treaties.4 Drafting of laws like TRIPS and the US Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) 1998 has been contested for intense backstage lobbying and pressure from corporate IP rightsholders and, eventually, for serving the industry’s big players (Litman 2001; Drahos and Braithwaite 2002). Following the legislative trend, the EU perspective5 developed economic-utilitarian reflexes, demonstrated greater concern about being industrially competitive, and arguably went further than the DMCA with anti-circumvention rules to thus restrict fair uses in digital environments. It also left the harmonisation of authors’ moral rights out of the Directive framework6 (Spinello and Bottis 2009). According to its critics, the resulting legal landscape for copyright, which has spread globally across most WTO associated regimes, is characterised by extending copyright terms (Lessig 2004), it criminalises end-users for infringements belonging rather to the private law sphere (Drahos and Braithwaite 2002), and minimises the role of copyright limitations from legal priority to fair use defences in litigation (Lange and Powell 2009). Other criticisms include an arguable turn from earlier copyright models, which had served the public domain by ‘defining copyright ownership in terms of narrow privileges’ only (Drahos and Braithwaite 2002, 186); a manifested tendency towards privatising the intangible commons and the erosion of the public domain, branded the Second Enclosure Movement (taking after England’s common land enclosures, between the 14th and 19th centuries) (Boyle 2003); and, generally, fundamental limits being imposed on free expression, access to knowledge and creativity (Lessig 2004; Lange and Powell 2009).7 Corporate production of culture, knowledge and communications content plays key role in what has been addressed as the ‘battle over the institutional ecology of the digital environment’ (Benkler 2006, 2). As human culture evolves around – and the medium itself encourages – the recycling of information in its various forms, online users habitually engage with existing content and references to it. With corporate brands working strategically to establish market dominance in cultural consumption, their omnipresent commercial symbols permeating culture (Coombe 1998), and, apparently, cultural content production becoming increasingly concentrated within strong oligopolies (Lee 2019), copyright exclusivities raise concerns about extensive social and cultural control by small numbers of corporate entities. The implications of the above situation can be more clearly understood with reference to some concrete examples of how the power conferred by copyright law is exercised. As previously indicated, in terms of black-letter law ordinary uses of online creative works count as copyright infringements (Lessig 2008). Where more transformative engagements with content may essentially be of little economic concern, copyright rightsholders have on many occasions appeared protectionist, perhaps because such content is increasingly susceptible to widespread unauthorised appropriation and they are afraid of habitual online uses progressing into entitlements (Lange and Powell 2009). Copyright law arguably encourages rightsholders to disassociate their cultural production from notions of public responsibility (Sun 2013), while in several settings it has framed the context of exception within rather formal contexts; for example, in the UK fair dealings were mainly introduced in relation to research, study, teaching, archiving, disability and related commercial practices.8 Nevertheless, parodies, forming since early key part of cultural and political online expression through the manipulation of creative content, now count as an established copyright exception in many settings (including the UK).9 Largely, it is considered that such conflicts over derivative user-generated creations, like fan-works, Internet memes and so on, should be resolved successfully when appealing directly to existing copyright exceptions, with some setups, like the US fair-use doctrine, offering perhaps greater flexibility in favour of users (and perhaps less certainty) (Hetcher 2009; Patel 2013; Bonetto 2018). 3.3. The medium becomes the problem The real thorn in the content producers’ side has arguably been otherwise non-commercial exchanges of derivative content, taking place on online services that profit through subscriptions or practices like online advertising. This developed early into a legal argument for interfering with unwelcome content circulation, solidified within laws that outline liability for service providers who host relevant material and have knowledge of potential infringement.10 Such laws have established ‘notice and take down’ mechanisms, compelling content hosts to follow action against material uploaded by users on their services, once they have received complaints from owners of creative works. Dedicated, cheap systems have enabled complainants to automate both processes of searching online for infringements and of sending out notices en masse. Studies of complaint mechanisms have indicated small numbers of complainants (including corporate rightsholders and specialised agencies in pursuing copyright infringers), overwhelming processes for recipients, notices generated by highly centralised models of operation that frequently result in misuse (for example, repetitive auto-generated complaint notices), overall processes that are overwhelming for their recipients and filtering not being always transparent (Ibosiola et al. 2019). It follows that general concerns include the uncontrollable, biased conduct of the process by oligopolies of rightsholders, the reluctance of service providers to investigate the accuracy of every single complaint received or to be exposed to expensive litigation, and, eventually, chilling effects on expression, where infringement might not always be confirmed (Seltzer 2010; Urban, Karaganis, and Schofield 2017). In Europe, the above also point to potential interferences with human rights under the European Convention of Human Rights (Kuczerawy 2015). The latest EU legislative initiative11 attempts to address such concerns, encompassing also years of developing deliberations on the role of online service providers; it will be briefly addressed in the conclusions section. At this point, however, one is also alerted to power structures originating in the online setting and directing humanity into action, as well as shaping its development. Search engines, video platforms, social media, algorithms – these are key elements of a madeup, neither natural nor random structure. As much as providing the ground for challenging – perhaps excessive – copyright monopolies, they also condition cultural life in their own fashion. They also belong to the same larger economic and political institutional order within the network society, as previously defined. This brings the discussion closer to its most challenging aspect. Recall the earlier discussion, following McLuhan, of a biological interpretation of the online medium having symbiotically become one with humanity. Echoing cybernetic conceptualisations and with an eye on McLuhan’s reasoning, we could remark ‘change the medium and you change the organism’. This would be no fictional allusion to the spirit of Blade Runner: it involves a reading of humanity’s actual institutional surroundings within the network society. Integration with the electronic medium suggests that laws, economic interests, technologies and forms of online discipline (content takedown is one; limited access to online services is another) impact on the very essence of our biological lives, through our connection with the online medium. The next section will explore this biopolitical aspect by mobilising a series of alternative analytical tools for evaluating the issues raised up to this point.

The primary variable for analysis is whether a given Supreme Court decision or legislative action strengthened or weakened intellectual property protection. Consistent with prior research in this context, strengthened versus weakened refers to the extent of protection afforded to the intellectual property rights owner.11 Accordingly, Supreme Court decisions that make it easier to acquire intellectual property rights; broaden the scope of intellectual property protection; make it easier to prove infringement; or strengthen remedies for infringement are all considered to strengthen intellectual property protection. Decisions that have the opposite effects weaken protection.12

[BEGIN FOOTNOTE 12] Consistent with the standard approach applied in analyzing the ideological direction of Supreme Court decisions, whether a given decision strengthened or weakened intellectual property rights was determined based on the net effect on intellectual property law with respect to the issue at hand, not based simply on whether there was a change from the status quo. See, e.g., Lee Epstein & Andrew D. Martin, Does Public Opinion Influence the Supreme Court? Possibly Yes (But We’re Not Sure Why), 13 U. PA. J. CONST. L. 263, 272 (2010) (applying this methodology to code decisions as liberal versus conservative); Isaac Unah et al., U.S. Supreme Court Justices and Public Mood, 30 J.L. & POL. 293, 307–10 (2015) (same); The Supreme Court Database, WASH. U. L. SCH., supremecourtdatabase.org (last visited Nov. 5, 2017) (same). Thus, Eldred v. Ashcroft, 537 U.S. 186 (2003), is coded as strengthening intellectual property rights because it upheld the Copyright Term Extension Act against a constitutional challenge. As the statutory name implies, the Copyright Term Extension Act extended owner ’s copyright terms. Though upholding the law effectively maintained the status quo, the Court’s decision on the issue before it favored greater protection. 13. 135 [END FOOTNOTE 12]

Delia S. Tantuico and Errol Wilfred Zshornack, “Intellectual Property Rights: Talking Points for RP-US FTA Negotiations,” Philippine Institute for Development Studies, 2006, pp. 23-24, https://www.econstor.eu/bitstream/10419/127931/1/pids-dps2006-12.pdf.

Specifically, the three major issues in intellectual property rights protection between the Philippines and the U.S. are:

Alexander H. Tuzin, “Vietnam’s Eligibility to Receive Trade Benefits Under the U.S. Generalized System of Preferences,” Loyola University Chicago International Law Review, vol. 7, Spring/Summer 2010, pp. 205-206, Lexis.

Next, we consider the extent to which the country provides "adequate and effective" protection of intellectual property rights. The Senate Finance Committee Report explained that:

David Snitman, “Compound Library Agreement,” Law Insider, 22 April 1999, pp. 2, https://www.lawinsider.com/contracts/gpKRiGv9XSg#intellectual-property-protection.

1.15 "INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY PROTECTION" shall mean the application, prosecution (including, without limitation, all interference actions, term extensions and disclaimers, reexaminations, reissues, and divisions), maintenance, defense and enforcement of U.S. and foreign patent applications and patents arising therefrom, and establishment and protection of trade secrets and other forms of intellectual property rights.

Laurinda L. Hicks and James R. Holbein, “Convergence of National Intellectual Property Norms in International Trading Agreements,” American University Journal of International Law and Policy, vol. 12, 1997, pp. 771-790, Lexis.

Different national intellectual property legislation coexists within a common market, conferring privileges that restrict competition within the single market. The protection of intellectual property rights in a free trade market is essential to allow the free circulation of goods among member nations. In order to create a free trade market, member states must harmonize different intellectual property regimes and base the integrated system upon common rules of protection and enforcement. This is a difficult process due to divergences between national intellectual property regimes within a free trade agreement's member countries.

Park ’8 [Walter G.; May; Professor of Economics and Associate Dean of Graduate Studies at American University; Research Policy, “International patent protection: 1960–2005,” Volume 37, Issue 4]

The global trade-related aspects of intellectual property rights (TRIPS) agreement of 1995 has intensified interest in, and research on, the economics of intellectual property protection. Researchers and policymakers, for example, have been interested in the extent to which stronger intellectual property rights (IPR) influence R&D and innovation, international trade and technology transfer, productivity growth, and national and global welfare.1

Given the robust amount of trade between the United States and European Union, those practicing law or engaged in international business in the United States and Europe should have a working knowledge of the differences between the two legal regimes on the point of compulsory licensing. One general guideline to help the practitioner operating within both legal regimes is that the tension between the assertion of intellectual property rights and the prevention of the abuse of those rights is more noteworthy in Europe than in the United States. 254 One comment states that the Microsoft Corp. decision itself is a terrific example of the schism between legal approaches found in the European Union and the United States. 255 The European Union has titled the balance toward a more short-term consumer benefit and a lesser level of intellectual property right protection whereas the United States takes a much stronger intellectual property protection approach that sacrifices some short-term consumer welfare. 256 This is despite the fact that the qualifications for gaining intellectual property rights are similar across the United States and the Member-States of the European Union. 257 However, there is commentary that this divergence in jurisprudence between the United States and Europe is recent. 258 This divergence has also recently separated the United States from Canada, its leading trading partner, as Canada has taken an approach to compulsory licensing as a remedy more akin to that of the European Union. 259

Is a Chinese invasion of Taiwan tomorrow’s Ukraine war? The parallels between the two cases, where a revisionist power stands poised to pounce on a vulnerable neighbor, make it a scenario that is now feared by many. Sometimes, an invasion of Taiwan by China is even treated almost as a foregone conclusion, a question of “when” rather than “if.” Especially within military circles, predictions of a China-U.S. war over Taiwan in 2025 or 2027 have become common currency. At the same time, other commentators maintain that the risk of war remains low.How can we adjudicate such claims? One answer is by looking at available forecasts. At the Swedish National China Centre, this is what we have done in a new report. For the first time, we have produced an overview of all available forecasts of a possible Taiwan conflict. We find that the results largely contradict the alarmist position. Forecasts consistently rate the risk of armed conflict in the Taiwan Strait as low. Alarmist commentators overestimate the risk of war in at least three important ways.First, it is often stated that China is arming itself specifically in preparation for a Taiwan invasion. 2027 often figures as a possible date for such an invasion, presumably because this year is an official milestone in the Chinese military’s modernization plans. But the year 2027 hardly figures at all in the scholarly forecasts we have examined. Concerning China’s military modernization, forecasts do point to growing risk, but this is mainly a question of the gradually changing military balance vis-a-vis the United States in the region. A more even military balance inherently means growing risk, but that risk is growing from a very low baseline probability. It is still true that China cannot be confident to win a war with the U.S. over Taiwan, which keeps down the risk for the present.Second, it is said that China cannot accept Taiwan’s democratic institutions, and that conflict can only be averted by the United States and other allies stepping up explicit support for Taiwan’s independence. But forecasts instead point to the worsening China-U.S. relationship itself as one of the major risk factors. Growing tensions over Taiwan are a consequence of increasing great power conflict. Beijing sees Taiwan as a part of the U.S. sphere of influence, and knows that an attack on Taiwan is a military attack on U.S. interests. If China-U.S. rivalry is kept within limits, China has little interest in provoking such a conflict.Third, a common narrative among alarmists is the story of the changing Chinese regime. They warn us of China’s increasingly aggressive posture, its growing “assertiveness,” and an alleged ideological turn away from “openness” under the rule of Xi Jinping. By contrast, forecasters are divided on the question of whether China’s intentions concerning Taiwan have changed in any crucial regard. Xi Jinping hews close to the traditional Communist Party line of unquestioned sovereignty over Taiwan, and his international ambitions are likewise inherited from his predecessors. Most of China’s new-found “assertiveness” is likely less a matter of ideological change and more a matter of growing capabilities. From this, one might conclude that assumptions of extreme urgency on China’s part are faulty. These are the takeaways from available forecasts, and they stand in stark contrast to alarmist predictions from the U.S. military and other actors. They suggest that alarmist narratives are arrived at by looking at the growing risk of war in isolation, without consideration of its general low baseline probability. Alarmists also tend to heavily exaggerate the degree of internal change caused by Xi Jinping, which is a factor that appears doubtful when aggregating forecasts.Moreover, even though available forecasts rate the risk of war as low, they might still be overestimating it. This is because all these forecasts are found in works that study military issues and political attitudes. But other things matter, too. Taiwan’s crucial role in the semiconductor industry is well known, and destroying these supply chains would cost the world economy trillions of dollars per year. On top of this comes the effects of the economic warfare that almost certainly would result if China attacked Taiwan. Most estimates conclude that such consequences would hit China even harder than the West. It is hard to imagine that China does not realize this or refuses to take it into account when weighing the possibility of using force. This should further subtract from the generally low level of risk estimated by the forecasts we have reviewed.All of this taken together suggests that a mix of military and economic deterrence, together with a responsibly managed China-U.S. relationship, can be expected to effectively prevent conflict even in the future. Most importantly, discussions of a possible Taiwan conflict should proceed from an understanding of the low baseline probability of such a scenario, not from panic-driven “when-rather-than-if” takes.

The United States, and Washington DC in particular, is awash with expectations of war against China in the near future, most likely caused by a Chinese decision to forcibly annex Taiwan. Plenty of Americans — including senior military officers, academics, and politicians — think Chinese leader Xi Jinping sees war as the best option. Those making this argument typically say Xi is tired of waiting for unification to happen peacefully, sees a military window of opportunity, or has set a deadline for finishing the job. Some think China’s recent economic problems create an incentive for Beijing to launch a diversionary Taiwan war.We cannot know Xi’s priorities with certainty. Nevertheless, from what we can observe, an elective war against Taiwan is hardly a compelling proposition for Xi’s government.Even with China’s massive arsenal of modern warships, combat aircraft and missiles, Beijing is nowhere near the level of superiority that would guarantee a successful invasion given the probability of US and Japanese military resistance. Xi would need to worry about more than ferrying enough forces and their supplies across the Strait through the gauntlet of Taiwanese, US and Japanese ships, missiles, submarines, mines and drones. A cross-Strait war would disrupt regional economic activity, threatening the livelihoods of millions of Chinese. The resulting social turmoil could endanger Xi’s rule.A Chinese blockade of Taiwan’s ports would be less risky, but would have disadvantages. Taiwan’s government may choose to resist. Beijing’s action would stimulate increased anti-China cooperation around the world; China could expect to suffer sanctions over a long period. And the United States would have ample time to surge forces into the region to assist Taiwan. Beijing’s attempts to intimidate the US government into abandoning support for Taiwan have failed. Helping Taiwan to defend itself remains bipartisan US policy, even supported by Republican Party politicians who want to stop arming Ukraine. Despite the longstanding US policy of “strategic ambiguity”, President Joe Biden has publicly stated four times that US forces would intervene in Taiwan’s defence.Xi doesn’t necessarily need to solve the Taiwan problem during his tenure to earn a legacy in Chinese history. Xi has three huge domestic projects. The first is restoring the primacy and authority of the Communist Party, which prior to Xi’s tenure as general secretary had suffered a decline in prestige due to rampant corruption, decentralised governance and the empowerment of civil society. The second is what Xi sees as ideological purification, including cleansing China of “Western” ideas and values. Third, Xi must oversee the transition of China’s economy from reliance on exports and investment in infrastructure to a new model that can maintain robust growth and advance China from a middle-income to a high-income country. Success in these projects would be enough to secure glory for Xi, who already enjoys a section in the Party’s constitution honouring “Xi Jinping Thought.”A struggling economy does not make Beijing more likely to launch a war. China’s economic malaise appears to have dampened the Chinese public’s enthusiasm for a Taiwan campaign. The natural reaction to a lack of strength at home is to be more cautious in foreign affairs, not more aggressive. Thus, the appearance of serious issues in China’s economy in 2023 led to Xi trying to lower tensions with the United States, and a direct appeal to the business community to invest more in China during Xi’s visit to California last year.Several US commentators and politicians raised alarm about Xi purportedly “warning” Biden during the California summit that China plans to forcibly seize Taiwan. A more accurate summary of Xi’s remarks would be that he restated the decades-old mantra that unification will happen. He gave no timeline, he said he hoped it would occur by peaceful means, and he denied that his government has a plan to attack Taiwan.Like any People’s Republic paramount leader, Xi must repeat the promise of eventual unification, build up a military machine that deters independence, insist that the international community adheres to the “one China” principle, and maintain pressure on Taipei to enter negotiations with Beijing. There is no indication that Xi’s position in China is in jeopardy due to a perception he is not tough enough toward Taiwan.Xi needs merely to avoid Taiwan declaring formal independence. If Taiwan did do so, Xi would probably opt for war. But even Taiwanese governments controlled by the Democratic Progressive Party, which rejects the idea of Taiwan being part of China, have shown that they will not cross this line.Xi reached the pinnacle of the Party hierarchy through a career of careful positioning and quiet ruthlessness, not by taking grand gambles. Since then, he has shown a preference for grey-zone tactics. There is no convincing reason to expect him to rush to a military showdown over Taiwan.

The politics of fear sells. In his successful 1960 campaign for president, then Senator John F. Kennedy seized on the dangers of the missile gap – a presumed Soviet superiority in the number of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). Kennedy exploited anxiety all the way to the White House. Yet the missile gap was a myth. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara admitted as much to Kennedy in 1962, claiming “emotionally guided but nonetheless patriotic individuals in the Pentagon” were responsible. McNamara then warned Kennedy, “There are still people of that kind in the Pentagon. I wouldn’t give them any foundation for creating another myth.”

Seventy years later, it is happening again. Pundits, politicians, and senior military officers alike now warn the United States is losing a space race to China. “We are absolutely in a strategic competition with China and space is a part of that,” Gen. David D. Thompson, vice chief of space operations for the U.S. Space Force, warned recently. “The fact, that in essence, on average, they are building and fielding and updating their space capabilities at twice the rate we are means that very soon, if we don’t start accelerating our development and delivery capabilities, they will exceed us.”

The Biden administration’s decision to request a six-month extension of the expiring U.S.-China Science and Technology Cooperation Agreement (STA) follows a noisy campaign by U.S. scientists urging renewal of the landmark 1979 accord.

To hear the scientists tell it, the STA has contributed to nearly every significant scientific breakthrough over the last 40 years.

Second, domestic political barriers are likely to persist. Some interest groups in the United States may not firmly oppose stringent climate actions. But many will impede substantial policies that threaten their survival or harm their balance sheets. With President Xi Jinping securing his third term as China’s paramount leader, it is expected that Chinese climate policies will be consistent: Beijing will continue to prioritise economic growth and depend heavily on traditional energy-intensive industries. Third, great power competition will likely intensify. Although the United States and China may cooperate in certain fields — for instance, when Tesla operates plants in China or when US firms purchase Chinese solar panels — neither will sacrifice their national interests to substantially reduce emissions to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius in the foreseeable future. In the United States, former president Donald Trump has already announced a White House bid for 2024. If he becomes president again, Washington will probably quit multilateral climate agreements and escalate conflicts with China. In response to such US policies, Chinese policymakers, predominated by realpolitik, are unlikely to compromise. The fact that the United States and China are the world’s largest economies and emitters makes it galling to the international community when they refuse to take on serious commitments to substantially reduce emissions and control global warming. Years of failure to cooperate is a tragedy for the entire humankind. They blocked the world from getting on a carbon emissions reduction pathway capable of preventing severe climate change. Until we breakthroughs in clean technologies, the insulation of climate cooperation from domestic politics and the de-escalation of great power strategic competition, cooperation in substantial emissions reduction — and with it, the 1.5 degrees Celsius goal — is not feasible.

(May 14, 2024, “Rise of China: Hegemony or Harmony?” Springer Link, https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s41111-024-00253-3)

This research delves into the examination of China's potential hegemony in the regional sphere, juxtaposing its substantial military capacities, strategic ambitions, and ideological underpinnings. By leveraging a methodical triangulation of quantitative data from the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), theoretical implications from China's policy documents, and critical analysis of China's robust infrastructure, considerable resources, and impressive capabilities, this study explores China's strategic landscape in comparison with other regional and international contenders. It establishes that, despite the formidable potential for hegemonic pursuits, China's political ideologies—Harmonious World, Peaceful Development, Chinese Dream, and the vision of a Human Community with a Shared Future, intertwined with strategic imperatives and nuclear deterrence, indicate a proclivity towards preservation of the existing global order and a commitment to peaceful evolution. The research concludes that, in the foreseeable context, China will likely persist in its endeavor to foster peaceful bilateral and multilateral relationships with neighboring states, demonstrating a strategic preference for peaceful development over aggressive hegemonic dominance.

On offer in the so-called ‘Beijing consensus’. It is precisely this reality, and the hitherto impressive performance of the Chinese economy, that has led some to conclude that, as Martin Jacques puts it, China will ultimately ‘rule the world’. Of course, Chinese hegemony is not unprecedented. For hundreds if not thousands of years, China exercised a form of hegemonic influence over its region in relative isolation from outside powers. The tribute system, in which neighbors of China ritualistically acknowledged Chinese dominance, was necessarily a comparatively local affair in an era before international integration. US hegemony, by contrast, has been increasingly global, a reality that has been entrenched by technological innovation and its own Cold War triumph. If China is ever to match or eclipse the United States as the dominant power, it will also have to exercise power on a hitherto unprecedented scale and scope. The first obstacle to any hegemonic ambitions that China may harbour is institutional. There is a certain inertia in international affairs that makes institutions hard to change or remove, even when it is evident that they no longer serve the purpose they once did. Institutions such as the IMF, the World Bank and the WTO have endured at least in part because many people wanted them to, especially in the absence of real or effective alternatives. China is beginning to develop a rival or parallel set of international institutions Such as the Shanghai Co-operation Organization and the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB). China’s efforts have clear, if largely unacknowledged, parallels with the US’s highly successful Marshall Plan. Is this, therefore, an unambiguous manifestation of China’s increased influence and growing hegemonic power? Up to a point, it is. Clearly, China’s economic weight means that it is already too important to gratuitously snub or offend. And yet, it is also obvious that some countries are taking an entirely instrumental and pragmatic attitude toward China: they may not like it terribly much, but they still recognise the importance of maintaining good relations. This highlights two glaring weaknesses of China’s hegemonic challenge that are unlikely to be easily overcome. First, China has no friends. True, there is always North Korea. But as the saying goes: with friends like that, who needs enemies? The reality for China is that its quasi-allies such as North Korea, Pakistan, Laos and Cambodia, are weak, unreliable and opportunistic. By contrast, the United States has a series of bilateral security alliances that have endured long after the Cold War ended. In East Asia in particular, alliances with Japan and South Korea have proved durable and, from a Chinese perspective, too close for comfort. Allies such as Australia have been willing to fight for the United States in conflicts with little bearing on their own security. China has no such friends or allies. Recent Chinese strategic and foreign policy moves mean that this relative isolation is unlikely to change any time soon. On the contrary, China has alarmed its perennially nervous neighbours in much of Southeast Asia with its assertive, even aggressive, territorial ambitions in the South China Sea. The United States was not the only beneficiary of the open international economic order it led, even if it benefited from it more than most. By contrast, the predominantly national — and increasingly nationalistic — focus of Chinese policy is what strikes many observers most these days. Hegemony can be achieved by persuasion or coercion. While there is no doubt that the US has done a good deal of the latter at times — including in East Asia — part of the reason its influence has endured is because it has enjoyed the freely given support of other states. Equally important, if rather more difficult to quantify, the US has undoubtedly benefited from a form of ‘soft power’ that has reduced the transaction costs associated with maintaining international primacy. At this stage, China has no such attributes. Despite a good deal of talk within China about the unfairness of the existing order, historically it has taken few concrete steps to present an alternative vision — which is what makes the AIIB so interesting and potentially significant. But even if the AIIB proves to be successful as a way to underpin massive investment in the region, there will still be significant constraints on Chinese influence. Not only has China promised to abide by essentially Western standards of good governance and transparency in the way the AIIB operates, it will be difficult for China to use its economic weight unilaterally. As China faces the prospect of its first full-blown crisis of capitalism, the fate of more than its economy is at stake. China’s rather brittle-looking authoritarian regime has staked its reputation and legitimacy on its capacity to deliver continuing economic development. Unless it can continue to do so and simultaneously manage the internal contradictions of inequality and instability that are endemic to capitalism, debates about its possible hegemonic influence and the viability of a Chinese alternative model of development will not even be of academic interest.

Cooperation is not cowardice, as American conservatives repeatedly claim. Both the US and China have much to gain from it: peace, expanded markets, accelerated technological progress, the avoidance of a new arms race, progress against COVID-19, a robust global jobs recovery, and a shared effort against climate change. NEW YORK – American foreign policy since World War II has been based on a simple idea, perhaps best expressed by President George W. Bush after the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks: Either you are with us or against us. America should lead, allies should follow, and woe be to countries that oppose its primacy. The idea was both simple and simplistic. And now it is antiquated: The United States faces no implacable foes, no longer leads an overpowering alliance, and has far more to gain from cooperation with China and other countries than from confrontation. Former President Donald Trump was a grotesque caricature of US leadership. He hurled insults, threats, unilateral tariffs, and financial sanctions to try to force other countries to submit to his policies. He ripped up the multilateral rulebook. Yet Trump’s foreign policy faced remarkably little pushback inside the US. There was more consensus than opposition to Trump’s anti-China policies, and little resistance to his sanctions on Iran and Venezuela, despite their catastrophic humanitarian consequences. President Joe Biden’s foreign policy is a godsend in comparison. Already, the US has rejoined the Paris climate agreement and the World Health Organization, is seeking to return to the United Nations Human Rights Council, and promises to rejoin the 2015 nuclear deal with Iran. These are hugely positive and admirable steps. Yet Biden’s early foreign policy pronouncements vis-à-vis China and US leadership are problematic. Biden’s recent address to the Munich Security Conference is a good window into his administration’s thinking in these early days. There are three causes for concern. First, there is the rather naive idea that “America is back” as world leader. The US is only now returning to multilateralism, has utterly botched the COVID-19 pandemic, and until January 20 was actively working against the mitigation of climate change. It still must heal the many deep wounds left by Trump, not least the insurrection of January 6, and address why 75 million Americans voted for him last November. That means reckoning with the hefty dose of white supremacist culture animating much of today’s Republican Party.Second, “The partnership between Europe and the United States,” Biden declared, “is and must remain the cornerstone of all that we hope to accomplish in the twenty-first century, just as we did in the twentieth century.” Really? I am a Europhile and strong supporter of the European Union, but the US and the EU account for just 10% of humanity (NATO members account for 12%). The transatlantic alliance cannot and should not be the cornerstone “for all we hope to accomplish” this century; it is but one important and positive building block. We need shared global stewardship by all parts of the world, not by the North Atlantic or any other region alone. For much of the world, the North Atlantic has an enduring association with racism and imperialism, an association stirred by Trump. Third, Biden claims the world is engaged in a great ideological struggle between democracy and autocracy. “We’re at an inflection point between those who argue that, given all the challenges we face – from the fourth industrial revolution to a global pandemic – that autocracy is the best way forward…and those who understand that democracy is essential…to meeting those challenges.” Given this alleged ideological battle between democracy and autocracy, Biden declared that “we must prepare together for a long-term strategic competition with China,” adding that this competition is “welcome, because I believe in the global system Europe and the United States, together with our allies in the Indo-Pacific, worked so hard to build over the last 70 years.” The US may view itself as being in a long-term ideological struggle with China, but the feeling is not mutual. American conservatives’ insistence that China is out to rule the world has come to underpin a bipartisan consensus in Washington. But China’s goal is neither to prove that autocracy outperforms democracy, nor to “erode American security and prosperity,” as the 2017 US National Security Strategy asserts. Consider Chinese President Xi Jinping’s speech at the World Economic Forum in January. Xi did not talk about the advantages of autocracy, or the failures of democracy, or the great struggle between political systems. Instead, Xi conveyed a message based on multilateralism to address shared global challenges, identifying “four major tasks.” Xi called on the world’s leaders to “step up macroeconomic policy coordination and jointly promote strong, sustainable, balanced, and inclusive growth of the world economy.” He also urged them “to abandon ideological prejudice and jointly follow a path of peaceful coexistence, mutual benefit, and win-win cooperation.” Third, they must “close the divide between developed and developing countries and jointly bring about growth and prosperity for all.” Lastly, they should “come together against global challenges and jointly create a better future for humanity.” Xi stated that the path to global cooperation requires remaining “committed to openness and inclusiveness,” as well as “to international law and international rules” and “to consultation and cooperation.” He declared the importance of “keeping up with the times instead of rejecting change.” Biden’s foreign policy with China should begin with a search for cooperation rather than a presumption of conflict. Xi has pledged that China will “take an active part in international cooperation on COVID-19,” continue to open up to the world, and promote sustainable development and “a new type of international relations.” US diplomacy would be wise to aim for engagement with China in these areas. Today’s hostile rhetoric risks creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Cooperation is not cowardice, as American conservatives repeatedly claim. Both the US and China have much to gain from it: peace, expanded markets, accelerated technological progress, the avoidance of a new arms race, progress against COVID-19, a robust global jobs recovery, and a shared effort against climate change. With reduced global tensions, Biden could direct the administration’s efforts toward overcoming the inequality, racism, and distrust that put Trump in power in 2016 and still dangerously divide American society.

The United States has been the most significant global power in the international sphere. With the globe’s largest economy, the US dominates in finance, military, leadership, business, and international trade and institutions. However, the presence of American hegemony has been slowly declining with a shift of power balances in the international system from Western supremacy to East Asian ascendancy. The East Asian region has become the most important economic area in the world. The US’ top competitor, China, has made milestones in its economic, military, diplomatic, and technological power. Currently, China is the leading international exporter of goods, surpassing the US a few years prior. In the last decade, China has made monumental strides in integrating itself into the international system through geopolitical blocs, the Belt and Road initiative, establishing institutions in other regions, and increasing its industrial capacity. It is likely that by the 22nd century, China and the East Asian region will have overcome Europe and the bulk of Africa if their strategies continue to move undisturbed, ultimately leading to Chinese hegemony. To what extent are the economic pursuits of China facilitating Chinese hegemony in Europe and eventually the international system?

None of the popular narratives in either country capture the root causes for the intensifying competition. At their core, both countries believe their governance and economic models are best equipped to meet the 21st century’s challenges. Both believe they are natural leaders in Asia and on the world stage. Both countries are contending with rapid societal transformations, which are being exacerbated by the impacts of the fourth industrial revolution. And both countries are determined to limit vulnerabilities to the other while seeking to gain an edge in emerging technologies. This is all occurring while the United States and China remain unsatisfyingly locked into a relationship that is at once both competitive and interdependent. In other words, the United States and China are competing to demonstrate which governance, economic, and social system can deliver the best results in the 21st century.

This notion of competing governance and social systems goes a long way toward explaining the rivalrous nature of relations, but it does not explain why bilateral tensions have intensified and accelerated in recent years. To better understand this trend, one must also place the current moment in a historical context.

By the spring of 2024, China had settled with the reality that the possibility of a second Trump presidency is not only real, but also significant. According to the national polling organization FiveThirtyEight, by May 22, 2024, former U.S. President Donald Trump has a 0.9% lead to President Joe Biden in the national presidential polls, at 41.1% versus Biden’s 40.2%. The guilty verdict in the criminal trial does not seem to have a major impact over the voters, which still is reflected in a 1.7% percent lead by Trump according to FiveThirtyEight on May 30.

The result of the U.S. election is hard to predict and could change in any direction until Election Day. However, it would not be an overstatement to say that Trump has a fair and considerable chance to win. Consequently, Beijing must prepare for potential escalation with the United States on multiple fronts, as well as heightened uncertainty and volatility.