What are prediction markets?

Prediction markets, like Polymarket, Kalshi, or Predictit, are platforms where people buy and sell shares tied to the outcomes of future events, from elections and economic indicators to geopolitical developments, with prices fluctuating in real time to reflect the crowd’s collective probability estimates. Originally theorised by economist Robin Hanson under the name “idea futures”, they have existed as an academic concept since the early 1990s. What changed recently is scale, liquidity, and visibility.

Lately, prediction markets have made headlines because of insider trading scandals showing the hidden economics of security. In the United States, Army soldier Gannon Van Dyke was charged in April 2026 with using classified knowledge of the covert mission to capture Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro to place bets on Polymarket days before the operation, netting roughly $400,000 in profits from a $33,000 stake. The case is not isolated. Israeli authorities separately arrested several people and indicted a civilian and a military reservist on suspicion of using classified information to place bets about Israeli military operations on Polymarket.

Ethical questions reached a new milestone when Polymarket pulled markets allowing users to bet on the probability of a nuclear weapon being detonated before a certain date. Online backlash forced the platform to confront the obvious: monetising the prospect of nuclear war may create financial incentives for those in power to make it happen. When those events are high-stake security events, they create particularly strong information asymmetry and advantage.

What these cases collectively expose is a two-tiered information governance failure. On the one hand, a lack of safety rules that prevent the monetisation of catastrophic events such as nuclear war. On the other, an enforcement gap that allows specific “security” actors to benefit from obscurity and information asymmetry. Any serious democratic use case for these platforms requires addressing them directly.

What prediction markets are not: myths and reality

The “truth machine” label deserves scrutiny. The epistemic value of a prediction market rests on the assumption that the people trading on it actually know something. When they do, prices are remarkably good at aggregating that knowledge, but when they don’t, or when those who do know something have strong incentives to stay quiet or little access to the market, prediction prices are just noise.

Prediction markets reflect the knowledge of the people trading on them, which are not currently representative of the population. They skew heavily towards young, financially literate, English-speaking, crypto-adjacent men with a particular appetite for data and forecasting. Prediction markets are also structurally biased on political questions, particularly those driven by ideology, for example related to wars. The financial incentive is supposed to discipline overconfidence, and to some extent it does, but it cannot fully correct for motivated reasoning when the trader genuinely believes their preferred outcome is the most likely one.

It follows that prediction markets are not democratic institutions, contrary to what Hanson has argued. The idea that these platforms could one day replace expert institutions as the primary mechanism for aggregating societal knowledge is genuinely interesting as a thought experiment. However, much still needs to happen before that turns into reality. Hanson himself acknowledged as much when he noted that “everybody is allowed to participate” but that “doesn’t mean everybody is recommended to participate”. That is an odd foundation for a democratic institution.

Polymarket requires holding a cryptocurrency wallet, and Kalshi requires a U.S. bank account. Beyond platform requirements, both are largely inaccessible across Europe, where a growing number of national regulators—including in France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Portugal, and Hungary—have banned Polymarket, classifying it as unlicensed gambling, with several explicitly citing the risk that betting on political events distorts democratic processes. Across all major platforms, participation rates in lower-income countries, among older populations, and outside English-speaking markets remain negligible.

None of the major prediction market platforms are structured as public goods. They are venture-backed companies with investors, revenue models, and fiduciary obligations to their shareholders. Polymarket counts Donald Trump Jr. among its advisors and backers. This does not make them villains, but it does make the “public epistemic utility” framing somewhat misplaced. Current platforms are not operating with the public interest as their primary constraint.

Last but not least, the bots. Automated trading has become dominant on platforms like Polymarket, with one study estimating that bots extracted roughly USD 40 million from the platform in a year by exploiting pricing inefficiencies, an advantage derived from execution speed. When a significant share of “collective wisdom” is actually being generated by automated agents trained to exploit latency gaps, the case for prediction markets as truth machines starts to look rather fragile. The crowd, it turns out, contains quite a few participants who have never had a thought in their lives.

What prediction markets could offer democracy

The case for prediction markets as democratic tools is not completely absurd. At its core, it rests on a problem that democratic governance has yet to resolve: how to accurately aggregate what citizens actually know and want? Bets, unlike polls, carry a very tangible cost. That cost creates an incentive for honesty and informed behaviour, and therefore epistemic value, which no opinion survey or voting ballot can currently replicate. If a market on a policy outcome consistently diverges from official projections, that divergence is information worth taking seriously.

The most promising democratic application is not replacing institutions, as Hanson suggests, but informing them. Markets on legislative outcomes, new regulations, or public health indicators could give policymakers a real-time signal of what informed observers collectively believe will happen. The European Union has already begun exploring civic technology as a democratic resilience instrument, and prediction markets, if properly designed, may belong in that conversation.

However, none of this works without closing both governance gaps identified earlier. Addressing the lack of rules requires subject matter discipline for clear and transparent decisions about platform governance. Addressing the information asymmetry that generates heightened security risks requires a radically different approach to market access.

So, do prediction markets provide public value?

Not yet, and it won’t happen by accident. The same structural features that make these platforms financially attractive (opacity, speed, exclusivity, offshore architecture) make them democratically inadequate. The interesting question is whether the underlying mechanisms could be rebuilt with different priorities. The epistemic case is real: aggregating distributed knowledge through financial incentives can work, under the right conditions. Those conditions are not technically impossible, but they are politically inconvenient for the people currently building these platforms.

Prediction markets will not save democracy, but a serious attempt to design a trustworthy information market would tell us a great deal about whether democratic institutions are capable of using the tools that can strengthen them.

Written by Sophie L. Vériter, Ph.D.

This post was first published on sophiepomme.com on 11 May 2026.

👋🏼 Read more about the author here.

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The Italian context and what it tells us about Europe

Italy has been navigating high public debt and political fragmentation while Giorgia Meloni’s right-wing coalition government has pursued a sovereigntist agenda restricted by the state’s dependence on EU financial assistance. Youth unemployment in Italy is one of the highest in the European Union, and its educated population is desperate to find work elsewhere, as illustrated by the staggering number of Italian nationals who applied to the EU civil service exam. It is no surprise that Italy’s precarious, low-paid jobs, combined with a gerontocratic political class, entrenched clientelism, and populist rhetoric pinning its people against each other has resulted in disillusion and weak public trust. In March 2026, Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni lost a referendum on judicial reform, with the “No” camp securing 54% of the votes against her government’s proposal, a significant domestic blow as she grapples with a stagnant economy and complex international headwinds ahead of next year’s general elections.

It is in that context that Silvia Salis, mayor of Genoa, has emerged as a focal point for Italy’s opposition. She built public visibility by joining anti-war demonstrations in support of Palestine and backing dockworkers who refused to handle arms bound for Israel. A former Olympic hammer thrower elected mayor in May 2025 on a broad centre-left ticket, Salis organised a large public party in Genoa’s central Piazza Matteotti, a family-friendly daytime rave that drew 20,000 people into the streets, with Belgian DJ Charlotte de Witte headlining. The event directly challenged the so-called “anti-rave decree” introduced by Meloni in 2022, a controversial law targeting unauthorised gatherings. This move built on a semantic conflation: “rave” means an illegal free party in Italian legal and colloquial usage, but “rave” means any electronic music event in its original English sense. As a result, Salis was described in international media as “a breath of fresh air” and a “potential unifier” for the country’s opposition.

The situation Italy is facing (economic difficulties, low public trust, polarised politics) is not unique. France, Belgium, and The Netherlands surprisingly scored quite high in a recent poll asking EU citizens if they thought their country was heading in the wrong direction. Spain, Sweden, France, and Finland have the highest rates of youth unemployment in the EU. A vast majority of EU citizens, 89%, think that their governments should be more united in tackling global challenges. Tired by over a decade of increasingly populist discourse centred around a “us vs them” narrative, young Europeans want more community and mutual respect. I am not surprised, and I have an idea how to build on that momentum.

EDM Culture as Political Force

Electronic Dance Music (EDM) culture has a clear position towards politics and power. It emerged in the mid-1980s from the Black and gay communities of Chicago and Detroit, where DJs like Frankie Knuckles and Derrick May developed house and techno by mixing synthesisers, drum machines, and disco into a new sound that crossed the Atlantic and exploded into Britain’s rave scene during the “Second Summer of Love” of 1988. EDM culture is, by definition, a unifying movement for those left behind. While it has navigated tensions related to its commercialisation, EDM culture, in its essence, prizes collective joy, radical inclusivity, and anti-authoritarianism: the dance floor is a space where identity and status dissolve. Its informal code, “PLUR” (Peace, Love, Unity, Respect), captures that ethos, in clear contrast with contemporary political discourse.

Forty years ago, EDM culture planted the seeds of politics built on bodily autonomy, queer visibility, and collective space, values that would reshape European youth culture and provide templates for horizontal, leaderless organising that later echoed through movements from Occupy Wall Street to climate strikes. It did something that politics failed to achieve at the time, and are failing again to do today: bring people together.

EDM raves and the broader culture they promote can operate as what political theorist Chantal Mouffe would recognise as “agonistic spaces”: radically pluralist environments, held together by shared practice, where difference is suspended long enough for something collective to emerge. In a political landscape increasingly dominated by passive citizens choosing between equally disappointing and distant elites, EDM culture projects something radically different. It provides a space where people can express themselves freely, on equal footing, and where they can experience what it’s like to be in an environment with limited hierarchy besides the DJ booth itself. It is no coincidence that the governments which felt most threatened by it, from Thatcher’s Britain to Meloni’s Italy, moved quickly to criminalise it. They understood, perhaps more clearly than the ravers themselves, that a culture teaching people how to self-organise and produce solidarity is not apolitical. It is politics by other means.

In Sum

Silvia Salis did not bring 20,000 people together on Piazza Matteotti by publishing a manifesto. She won them with a techno DJ and a dance floor. While European politics are failing young people on nearly every measurable indicator, EDM culture offers something valuable: a collective experience that symbolises renewal, inclusion, and optimism.

The question I asked at the start of this essay was: what can EDM culture do that politics cannot? The answer is deceptively simple. EDM makes people feel, together, that another future is possible. However temporary, that lived experience is more powerful than any argument one can make on a paper or in a speech. Whether Salis translates that energy into durable political change in Italy remains to be seen, but the fact that a rave is now being discussed in the same breath as a general election is quite telling. Music and art can be compelling vectors for politics. More importantly, EDM dance floors may be some of the few spaces still capable of producing hope, and the conditions for radical change.

Written by Sophie L. Vériter, Ph.D.

This post was first published on sophiepomme.com on 22 April 2026.

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As a social scientist, I’ve been formatted to pursue objective “truth” in my work; to identify facts on which we can collectively agree and verify as accurate. For that, we scholars use scientific methods, logic, and controlled environments that extract very specific answers to very specific questions. We pride ourselves in the publication of those findings which we, then, declare facts. Yet, when we turn to politics, the pursuit of truth becomes far more complex. States, institutions, and societies do not operate under the same constraints as science; they interpret and contest truth through the prisms of identity and power. What counts as “true” is shaped by perceptions of authority, as well as narratives that integrate information into what is socially accepted — and that varies widely across the world. Regardless of the evidence, these socially constructed notions of “truth” deeply influence global affairs. This dilemma raises two questions: Can truth itself ever be neutral? And should truth be separated from fiction and emotion?

“Truth” in World Politics

In the field of International Relations (IR), the concept of truth occupies a central position. Far from being a merely philosophical concern, the meaning of “truth” cuts across questions of legitimacy, power, and epistemology (how is knowledge acquired?). IR has long taken for granted the positivist assumption that “truth” corresponds to reality and can be objectively discovered through empirical inquiry. However, this view obscures how “truth” is historically and politically situated, like a snapshot corresponding to a given socio-political context. In 17th-century Europe, you could get executed for suggesting that the Earth revolved around the Sun, since it wasn’t in line with the then-accepted “truth” that Earth was at the centre of the universe. More recently, research on the 2003 US war in Iraq revealed how notions of “truth” related to the global “war on terror” were fabricated to serve political and industrial agendas (see Speer, 2017 and Butt, 2019). Claims of accuracy have always been used as instruments of power, hence why “truth” must be understood as a dynamic concept, one that evolves within space and time.

Traditional IR scholarship, particularly realism, has been rooted in a model of anarchic “truth”. Realist theory presupposes a world revolving around self-interested and power-driven human nature. The acceptance of this view, now vastly criticised, was considered a prerequisite for sound policy and prudent diplomacy and still underpins much of modern politics, especially in the so-called Western world. However, in the late 20th century, constructivist scholars challenged this fixed notion of “truth”. Wendt, Kratochwil, and Onuf all argued that the international realm is constituted by evolving language and social norms, meaning that what counts as true emerges intersubjectively through human interactions — and increasingly also from technological interactions (see Floridi, 2014). In this view, truth is not “out there” waiting to be discovered but rather co-produced through communication, laws, and institutions. Hence, “truth” cannot be separated from the cultural and normative orders that sustain it. This epistemological shift replaced the search for objective certainty with the analysis of how actors construct shared understandings of reality, for example through novel branches of science that examine complex networks.

The latest research on world politics shows that “truth” is more often than not bound to a specific spatial and temporal context. Just as the nature of particles depends on how they are observed — as illustrated by Schrödinger’s cat experiment — “truth” in contemporary political debates depends on how it is extracted and interpreted. This is not to say that nothing can be established as fact: there are indeed commonly accepted facts, especially in natural sciences, such as the Earth orbiting the Sun or water boiling at 100°C. Yet, in politics, most observations are contested and tend to vary based on context. Critical IR theorists have exposed how this context-dependent nature can be weaponised, when information is controlled to sustain power. Adler and Drieschova (2021) conceptualised “truth-subversion practices” as deliberate efforts to undermine the epistemic foundations of the liberal international order through disinformation, double-speak, and contradiction. Therefore, in answering the first question of this essay, truth is rarely neutral, it is context-dependent. To get to a common ground of understanding around questions of politics, it is necessary to consider the biases, belief systems, knowledge traditions, and emotions that affect our individual experience and version of “truth”.

Affective Dimensions of Truth

Reflecting on the idea — now debunked — that truth can be fully separated from emotions, a doctoral student who was in the room shared: “I don’t think truth should be separated from emotions. Emotions are what make us remember certain things more than others, it helps us process information, it is how we understand facts”. This observation follows the notion that truth is shaped by its context: if truth is socially constructed, its ontology (its fundamental nature) is intrinsically connected to the social frames that underpin it. Stories have always shaped the way we think about the world, with vast consequences for human and technological development. To know more, or better, we should therefore evaluate more, not less, the nuances that surround the complex issues we constantly try to decrypt, like politics or economics and development. In other words, to reach a shared understanding in political debates, we need to acknowledge the different personal and cultural lenses through which people interpret reality — including and especially ourselves.

Hence, psychologists who specialise in countering misinformation have developed response frameworks that generally consist of five elements: (1) “pre-bunking” or decrypting information and how it can be manipulated, (2) analysing the scientific or social consensus, (3) validating other worldviews, (4) accepting that changing one’s mind is normal, and (5) showing interest and care. Having been in long conversations with many different people who believe in some conspiracy theories, I can personally attest to the efficacy of these techniques when used together. More often than not I have found that, with patience and empathy, it is possible to find a common ground from which we can have productive discussions, if we can discuss information in light of its cultural and emotional context. And, yes, that also involved recognising some of my own biases and putting them aside, however difficult and frustrating that feels, at first.

Technology for “Truth”

So how do we get better at doing all those things? The solution lies in better education policy and technology. First, to better decipher information and its manipulation, we need quality education easily accessible to a broad range of audiences and adapted to their needs. Education in the 21st century needs to be in line with our fast-changing, tech-driven world. It must integrate media and digital literacy in every single aspect of life and empower citizens through high-quality journalism as well as civic and financial education. With AI, the opportunities are endless when it comes to personalising education, but there’s also risks involved with concentrating power in the hands of a few companies that have a huge influence on modern-day “truth arbitrators” (such as OpenAI, xAI, Google, or Microsoft).

I’ve seen AI models such as Grok AI or ChatGPT being presented and used as tools to verify information and settle disagreements over the accuracy of information. Similarly, AI-enhanced deliberative democracy has been studied as a potential means to find common ground across collective preferences. It’s extremely important to know that AI models are, however, all biased in some way, and that there’s no such thing as “unbiased” or “conscious AI”. The notion of Artificial General Intelligence has also been highly contested in science. Computational linguists have demonstrated that large language models generate text by statistically mimicking language patterns rather than understanding meaning, making them inherently biased and potentially harmful if treated as intelligent or objective systems. Therefore, it’s crucial to take AI-generated “truth” with a grain of salt, and always analyse it critically (see my short guide on how to consume news critically). It’s also important to come up with more grass-root and decentralised solutions to balance out the huge influence of the few private actors currently leading the AI race, who have a clear interest in gaining more power and maintaining an information system that is skewed in their favour.

Second, we must strengthen our emotional awareness and resilience, our capacity to empathise for others and to understand the collective benefits of reducing inequalities, of caring for strangers, and of seeing their differences not as a threat but as an opportunity to learn — that requires tremendous intelligence. For that, I have found that what helps the most is… reading fiction. Granted, non-fiction books such as Rebel Ideas: The Power of Diverse Thinking (Syed) and Mindset: The Psychology of Success (Dweck) were foundational for my understanding of the value of disagreement and varied perspectives. However, it was by reading novels that I developed my capacity to see reality through someone else’s eyes, and understand the unique power of each perspective. From French classics like L’Étranger (Camus) and La Nausée(Sartre) to English literature such as 1984 (Orwell) and The Voyage Out (Woolf), fiction has helped me grasp the quality of the most peculiar minds. It empowered me to be more reflective, critical, and open-minded, to see the archetypes and story arcs that guide most of the things we do daily, to understand reality through different points of views. Fiction has the capacity to communicate ideas that science cannot. And last but not least, fiction allowed me to be creative and imaginative in ways that science and machines never could.

Conclusion

In The Origins of Totalitarianism, Hannah Arendt wrote: “The ideal subject of totalitarian rule is not the convinced Nazi or the convinced Communist, but people for whom the distinction between fact and fiction… true and false… no longer exist.” While I adore Arendt, and she’s right about many things, this essay has shown that fact and fiction are actually more closely related than what we may think, and it isn’t so bad. Building on International Relations theory, it showed that “truth” is a dynamic concept that is tied to a specific spatial and temporal context. It also showed that it isn’t always bad to recognise the dual nature of things, to see that “truth” can be seen in two different and completely valid ways at the same time. It made a case for better technology for “truth”, i.e. education adapted to modern-day needs and tools, and warned against the dangers of seeing AI models as objective arbitrators. Lastly, it explained how powerful fiction can be to help us understand the unimaginable, to imagine the impossible, and to anchor it within accepted frames.

In a world torn by polarisation, being able to build bridges between different worlds and belief systems will be a crucial skill, a probably a defining one for this century. Rather than seeking to separate facts from fiction and emotions, I argue that we should learn more about how interconnected they are, to help us find the common bases on which we can agree and connect.

Humans have always been confused (how could we not be, existing on a floating rock in space?). Truly, we’re just starting to grapple with the scope of that confusion, and with that realisation comes a mix of fear and excitement. Fear of repeating past mistakes and missing opportunities for progress, and excitement to fine-tune knowledge and policy in line with the latest advances in science and technology. We’re only starting to understand the complexity of the socio-political systems around us and how they shape our lives. To answer the longing for a public common ground that I referred to in this introduction, we must allow ourselves to step aside the rigid notions of what’s true, acceptable, or correct, and leave room for understanding and living through the world in ways that have never been done before. To reconnect and trust each other like never before, we must be honest and creative like never before.

Written by Sophie L. Vériter, Ph.D.

This post was first published on sophiepomme.com on 5 November 2025.

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This change culminated in an extraordinary moment in March 2022 when the Council of the European Union (where ministries from each EU member state meet) banned two Russian state-affiliated media outlets, Russia Today (RT) and Sputnik, following the invasion of Ukraine. This decision was groundbreaking and controversial. It marked an unprecedented move for the EU, as it restricted freedom of information and regulated media content at a supranational level. This action seemed to go against the very values of free speech that the EU is built on.

In my recent article, “The collective securitization of ‘disinformation’ and the EU’s ban on Russia Today and Sputnik” published in International Affairs (Oxford University Press), I analyse this pivotal moment. Using a theory called “collective securitisation”, I explored how and why the EU was able to pass a policy that seemed so inconsistent with its foundational norms. My analysis, which I hope is useful for policymakers, academics, and the public, suggests that this decision represents a new geopolitical turn in how information is governed and it could redefine the EU’s identity.

What is Collective Securitisation? (and why it explains the ban)

To put it simply, “securitisation” is the process of framing a political issue as a security issue. When an issue, for example migration or climate change, is framed as an existential threat, it becomes legitimate to adopt exceptional (and sometimes less democratic) policies that would normally be off-limits. This is done, intentionally or not, by state representatives and politicians when negotiating policy change.

In the EU, this process may happen collectively. Institutions like the European Commission or the Council of the EU can act as a “securitising agent” for member states. The process follows a clear cycle, illustrated in Figure 1. In the case of EU disinformation policies, I observed:

• The Status Quo: The original policy approach to disinformation in the EU was centred around voluntary codes of conduct and fact-checking.

• A Precipitating Event: Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, which heightened attention towards misleading and false reports from Russia.

• The Securitising Move: The Council of the EU declared that the propaganda from RT and Sputnik posed a “significant and direct threat to the Union’s public order and security”.

• Recursive Interactions: EU institutions and member states (briefly) discussed and negotiated the issue, leading to a consensus.

• The Policy Output: The adoption of Regulation (EU) 2022/350, which officially restricted the broadcasting of RT and Sputnik in the EU.

Figure 1: A model of collective securitisation

Source: Author’s elaboration, based on Sperling and Webber.

My research, based on interviews with officials and an in-depth review of 400+ policy documents, uncovered some fascinating details about how this process unfolded. The decision-making wasn’t a formal, public process. Instead, it happened informally in small, secretive meetings referred to as “confessionals”. In these meetings, high-level representatives from the Commission and the European External Action Service met with groups of ambassadors from EU member states. The ban was quickly put together, building on earlier proposals from the Baltic states. France, which held the Council’s rotating presidency, played a key role in getting the proposal adopted. While some countries like the Netherlands, Sweden, and Denmark were initially sceptical about the legal basis of the ban, the legal provisions were approved in “record time” under the pressure of the emergency. This process is illustrated in Figure 2.Figure 2: The five-step process of the collective securitization of disinformation in the EU

Source: Author’s elaboration, based on interviews 1–20.

What This Means for the Public

This story gives a glimpse into the functioning of EU institutions. It reveals how confidential meetings about sensitive issues such as foreign and security policy work in practice. It shows the very nature of our institutions and how our governments respond to crisis. The way this ban was implemented—through non-transparent meetings and fast-tracked procedures—raises serious questions about accountability and legitimacy. When a crisis allows for exceptional measures that bypass normal democratic checks and balances, it sets a dangerous precedent that may serve as an example for ill-intentioned actors.

It also highlights a critical debate: is a ban the right way to fight disinformation in the EU? As many have pointed out, including the UN Special Rapporteur, banning media outlets is a “very severe step” that might not be necessary or effective. Even the Norwegian government found that the best way to counter RT and Sputnik‘s false narratives is through “rebuttal and discussion in the public sphere,” not censorship.

My research shows that the ban was neither entirely effective, as the content from RT and Sputnik remained accessible through other platforms. It also gave the Russian government a perfect opportunity to frame the EU’s actions as censorship, feeding their own narrative. This raises the question: are we sacrificing core values like free speech for a policy that doesn’t even work?

Key Takeaways for Scholars and Practitioners

For those in academia and policy-making, my research offers several key insights:

• Understanding EU Decision-Making: My study reveals the new interconnectedness between security and media policies, as well as the growing importance of informal processes like the “confessionals” and emergency mechanisms such as sanctions in EU governance. This demonstrates how a crisis can empower certain actors to expand the EU’s competencies into new areas, such as media regulation. This is an essential lesson for anyone trying to understand the inner workings of power in Brussels.

• Refining Securitisation Theory: My work refines the theory of collective securitisation by showing how “recursive interactions” between EU institutions and member states are crucial for legitimising security policies. I argue that this process is not just a top-down, elite-driven one, but a complex interaction where a persuasive “securitising move” gains traction through the acceptance of member states and the public through the media.

• Normative and Practical Conclusions: The study raises a powerful challenge to the EU’s counter-disinformation efforts. It suggests that for a securitisation to be truly successful, it needs public legitimacy. The ban on RT and Sputnik, by touching on the EU’s foundational value of free speech without a democratic foundation, undermines this legitimacy. I argue that the EU’s focus on hybrid threats, including disinformation, can sometimes be a form of “ontological security management,” where the broadness of the concept is used for political gain, potentially at the expense of the EU’s own liberal-democratic identity.

The case of the RT and Sputnik ban is a powerful example of the EU’s ongoing struggle to balance security and strategy with its core values. It forces us to ask tough questions about how we govern information in the digital age, and what we are willing to give up in the name of security. I hope my research contributes to this vital conversation.

Read the full article

This piece was published as an advance article in International Affairs (OUP) for its September 2025 issue. It was anonymously reviewed by experts in the field and is available in open access, which means it’s free for anyone to download and read.

Read now

This article was written by Sophie L. Vériter (Ph.D.) and published on sophiepomme.com on 11 August 2025. Read more about its author here.

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For example, the Digital Services Act mandates very large online platforms to mitigate the negative effects of disinformation on democratic processes, public security, and civic discourse (Arts. 34-35). In practical terms, this means that platforms such as Facebook and X are obliged to work with fact-checkers, tighten their content moderation, and adjust their algorithms to avoid generating content that the European Commission considers to be harmful, even when it is technically legal. More recently, the EU banned Russian state-sponsored media from broadcasting in its territory, raising concerns about the unprecedented measure’s legal foundation, proportionality, effectiveness, and its potential to undermine freedom of information.

For those of us working in or studying this field, however, it’s clear that the problem is not only one of harmful content and foreign interference, it is one of trust, literacy, and civic engagement.

On the Ground: Firsthand Encounters with Information Disorder

Over the past seven years, I have closely analysed the EU’s evolving approach to misinformation and disinformation throughout my MPhil and PhD research. My work draws on over 50 in-depth interviews with EU policy-makers, diplomats, and communications experts, alongside over 400 documents such as press releases, meeting minutes, speeches, and voting records. This data allowed me to critically assess how EU policies in that field have developed since 2015. What emerges is both promising and cautionary: while the EU has made bold moves in regulating platforms and countering foreign interference, it still often overlooks the deeper societal roots and democratic implications of information governance.

Having previously worked in EU public diplomacy, engaging young people across Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Georgia, Moldova, and Ukraine, I witnessed firsthand how disinformation works in practice: it spreads confusion and erodes trust. I was confronted daily with contradictory narratives about the EU, Russia, NATO, and nearly every aspect of international politics. My role was to support young people in navigating these competing stories, helping them access reliable information that could empower them and foster mutual understanding.

Later, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I spent time in Latin America, where I encountered similarly distorted information landscapes. I met people whose views of the pandemic, vaccines, and global institutions were shaped by local TV and social media. Many expressed deep distrust in public health authorities, pointing to widespread corruption and elite capture—concerns that, in some cases, were hard to dismiss. Back then, I still saw Europe as a bastion of public trust and high-quality journalism. But recent events, particularly Western governments’ and media’s response to the genocide in Gaza, have made it harder to defend the EU’s moral authority or the liberal international order it seeks to uphold. The contradiction between its proclaimed values and their selective application undermines both its legitimacy and its credibility. For media literacy professionals, this inconsistency complicates the task of fostering trust in democratic systems and journalism.

The Paradox of Trust and Control in Democratic Societies

These experiences led me to a crucial realisation: not all distrust in government or media is irrational. In fact, in many cases, it is warranted. People rightfully turn away from institutions when information governance is absent, corrupt, or overly controlling. Instead of promoting trust for its own sake, democracies should focus on fostering people’s capacity to make sound judgments about whom and what to trust. Political scientist Pippa Norris has shown that societies benefit most when citizens can accurately assess the trustworthiness of institutions. The goal, then, is well-informed scepticism grounded in transparency and accountability.

In contrast, recent years have seen the EU adopt a more securitised and strict approach to information governance. It has increasingly focused on regulating platforms and penalising “harmful” content. While some interventions may be necessary to reduce viral falsehoods, this shift also empowers political institutions to set the boundaries of legitimate speech, a power that, if left unchecked, risks doing more harm than good. Measures designed to combat misinformation can easily become tools to suppress dissent or uncomfortable truths, especially when applied unevenly or opaquely. Worse still, they risk legitimising similar (often more repressive) approaches in authoritarian contexts, where “fake news” laws are routinely weaponised against opposition.

If the EU continues down this path, it risks alienating its own citizens, losing trust, and undermining its global soft power. By responding to the problem of disinformation with control rather than democratic openness, it may end up reinforcing the very dynamics of distrust and democratic backsliding it claims to counter.

What I have learned through these experiences—across different continents, conflict zones, and crises—is that the real challenge lies not only in correcting falsehoods but in rebuilding the conditions for trust to flourish. In a fragmented media ecosystem where people live in different “information universes”, each believing the others to be misinformed or manipulated, fact-checking and counter-messaging are necessary but not sufficient. We need to invest in long-term strategies: civic education that builds critical thinking, participatory governance that fosters inclusion, and media ecosystems that earn public trust by being transparent, independent, and accountable.

Lessons for the Media Literacy Field

As my research has shown, addressing the root causes of misinformation demands long-term, systemic approaches rooted in democratic values. Here are four key lessons that emerged from my PhD thesis and which are especially relevant for media literacy professionals, educators, civil society, and policy-makers:

1. Prevention is more powerful than reaction

Many European measures focus on reacting to harmful content (removing it, labelling it, or penalising platforms). But research shows that preventive approaches are more effective in the long run. Building citizens’ ability to critically assess information and engage with complexity before falsehoods take root helps to inoculate societies against manipulation. Investing in preventative infrastructure such as media literacy, civic education, pluralism, and digital inclusion yields stronger and more sustainable results than crisis-mode reactions.

2. Media literacy needs serious institutional support

Across the EU, media literacy initiatives often depend on time-bound projects led by overstretched NGOs or educators. While these initiatives are crucial, they rarely have the long-term support needed to scale or sustain impact. A key takeaway from my doctoral research is that media literacy should be treated as a public good, not a quick fix. This means integrating it into school curricula, public service broadcasting, and lifelong learning systems, backed by predictable, multi-year funding and clear European policies.

3. Media literacy as a pillar of democracy

Too often, media literacy is framed as a defence against foreign threats or manipulation, an instrument to “protect” citizens from hostile actors. While there is some merit to that, this frame can backfire by reinforcing suspicion, undermining openness, or stigmatizing certain groups. Instead, media literacy should be seen as a democratic tool empowering people to participate in public life, understand diverse perspectives, and engage constructively across differences. Media literacy must become an integral part of civic life.

4. Public participation must be part of the solution

Efforts to counter misinformation often leave the public out of the loop, treating citizens as passive recipients of regulations and policies with major impact on their information ecosystem. However, my research shows that trust cannot be built without people having a voice in the system itself. Participatory governance mechanisms, such as citizen panels, deliberative forums, or co-designed media policies, can help rebuild legitimacy and foster shared responsibility. We must design information governance with people, not just for them.

Conclusion

We are living through an age of profound information complexity. The stakes are high, not just for Europe and the West, but for democracy itself. While the EU has taken important steps to regulate platforms and counter foreign interference, its approach remains overly securitised, top-down, and reactive. If it hopes to strengthen democratic resilience, the EU must move beyond controlling narratives toward co-creating the conditions for trust to emerge from the bottom up, and hopefully incentivising others to follow through.

This means investing in participatory, preventive, and people-centred approaches: embedding media literacy in public institutions, fostering informed scepticism rather than blind trust, and ensuring that everyone has a voice in shaping the information systems that govern their lives. Misinformation is not only a technological or geopolitical challenge, it is a civic one, and the solutions must be democratic and inclusive.

[1] See conceptual clarifications here. In my thesis, I argue that differentiating between misinformation and disinformation (based on intentions and “bad” actors) is not actually really helpful. Erroneous beliefs spread in ways that we do not fully understand, and scholars disagree all the time about their impact on society. Misinformation often propagates through well-intentioned people who want to enlighten others by sharing information that they genuinely believe to be correct. And anyways, intentions are subjective because what one perceives as “intent to harm” may be perceived as “intent to protect from harm” by someone else.

This article was written by Sophie L. Vériter (Ph.D.) and first published by the Media & Learning Association on 1 July 2025.

Read more about its author here.

Recent posts:

• A New World Order: How Media and Diplomacy Can Avoid a Liberal Apocalypse

• Countering Misinformation in the EU: My Doctoral Speech

• A Letter to my Fellow Europeans about Ukraine, Trump, and World War III

• Baltic Leadership in Brussels: What Kaja Kallas Means for Tech Policy

• The Origins of Disinformation Policies in the EU

Hosted at the Diplomatic Academy of Vienna with the Annenberg School of Communication (University of Pennsylvania) and the Austrian American Foundation, the 2025 Milton Wolf Seminar offered a rare space to explore the interplay of media and diplomacy in a period of profound uncertainty and transformation. Conversations explored subjects from geopolitical tensions to censorship and media capture, but beneath it all ran a shared undercurrent: the urgent need to reimagine how we engage with power, information, and ultimately each other.

The End of History… or Multilateralism

The collapse of the so-called “liberal world order” is no longer speculative, it’s already underway. The “end of history” thesis, famously proposed by Francis Fukuyama in 1989, underestimated the resilience of authoritarianism and the fragility of democratic infrastructure. Multilateralism, in its current form, has not only failed to evolve, it was arguably flawed from inception, privileging powerful actors at the expense of equitable cooperation [1]. The United Nations Security Council stands as a monument to this imbalance and inadequacy to tackle contemporary security challenges, whether that is Russia’s war in Ukraine or Israel’s genocide in Palestine.

At the seminar, we examined how our political institutions are ill-equipped for a polycentric, pluralistic world. Their rigidity, amplified by weaponised identity politics and algorithmic manipulation, deepens division [2]. To escape this “ouroboros”—the theme of our seminar, a serpent eating its own tail—we must reject the illusion of liberal superiority and confront the uncomfortable truths: the “free world” was never truly free, and democracy is only as strong as its most disillusioned voter [3].

Rebuilding Trust

The erosion of trust emerged as a result of this realisation, both in institutions and among individuals. In a recent interview, my therapist remarked: “we don’t have trust anymore, but we still freaking need each other.” That paradox lingered. As Pippa Norris has shown, skepticism is not inherently damaging; it can be a sign of a healthy, engaged citizenry. But when trust erodes without alternative sources of legitimacy, democracy decays.

The digital age, for all its promise, exacerbates this challenge: vast information flows overwhelm our cognitive capacities, fostering confusion rather than clarity. Meanwhile, electoral systems concentrate too much influence in too few moments, making democratic life feel passive and highly susceptible to manipulation. If we are to avoid the liberal apocalypse, we must create new ways of building trust in democratic governance. We need new systems that foster regular political engagement, digital and media literacy, as well as structural safeguards reducing the impact of misinformation.

What Role for Media and Diplomacy?

There is hope. When cooperation is possible, there can be a stable, intuitive path to sustain it, one that is robust even in the presence of deviants or bad actors. This model reflects the kind of world order we must now aspire to: decentralised, accountable, and emotionally intelligent. States, bound by international systems that reward competition over collaboration, are unlikely to initiate such change. But media and diplomacy can.

The media must embrace plurality and community-building functions. The transparency and independence requirements imposed on EU media by the European Media Freedom Act (2024) are a big step in the right direction. However, much more is needed to foster a media ecosystem that is as vibrant and diverse as its society. To start, we need to upscale support for alternative media models and organisations that prioritise public service and community accountability over profit-driven narratives (e.g. Bellingcat, ProPublica, GroundNews, Correctiv).

Diplomats should reorient from state-to-state relations toward empowering civic actors and championing public diplomacy. Public engagement, transparency, and co-creation must be their guiding principles. Here, technologies like Web3, blockchain, and AI could provide the architecture for this decentralised governance, and gamificationcould reinvigorate democratic participation, as recent democratic innovations in Taiwan and Estonia show. We must use more deliberative and participatory formats to directly involve the public in decision-making about key social issues. This enhances awareness, cooperation, and trust.

Looking Ahead

The paradigm shift will not come without resistance. Nation-states, like monarchies before them, are designed for self-preservation. They are enshrined in laws, beliefs, and bureaucracies that resist decentralisation. But as history reminds us, permanence is a myth. Before the French Revolution, the idea of life without a monarch seemed absurd. Today, a world without dominant nation-states may seem equally implausible, but it’s already emerging in the margins.

Civil society, transnational communities, and digital ecosystems are laying the groundwork for a different kind of global order: one that values community, equity, and ever-changing identities. Constructivist International Relations theory reminds us that norms and values are not fixed; they are socially constructed and therefore can be reimagined. If we build systems with better incentive structures, those that encourage cooperation, foster shared values, and promote transparency, we will not only survive the collapse of the old world order; we will flourish beyond it.

This article was written by Sophie L. Vériter and first published on the Milton Wolf Seminar Blog in May 2025. Read more about its author here.

Recent posts:

• Countering Misinformation in the EU: My Doctoral Speech

• A Letter to my Fellow Europeans about Ukraine, Trump, and World War III

• Baltic Leadership in Brussels: What Kaja Kallas Means for Tech Policy

• Blockchain for Beginners: Master Web3 with Ksenija Korolova

• The Origins of Disinformation Policies in the EU

Notes:

[1] see Acharya, 2017; Farrell and Newmann, 2021; or Ikenberry, 2018

[2] see Bennett and Livingston, 2018; Scholte, 2020; or Woolley and Howard, 2018

[3] see Benabdallah, 2024 and Foa, 2020

Ladies and gentlemen, good morning.

Thank you for being here today.

My doctoral thesis explains why EU policies against misinformation emerged the way they did, how they evolved, and the lessons about information governance deriving from this case study.

Before I continue, allow me to explain the difference between misinformation and disinformation, the accidental and intentional spreading of false information. For example, when someone mistakenly shares incorrect vaccine information, that’s called misinformation. When state actors deliberately spread lies as propaganda, that’s considered disinformation. These concepts heavily influenced how scholars and policymakers think and act about information challenges. The European Union, for the last decade, has primarily focused on debunking and obstructing propaganda spread by the Kremlin. It has done so because it says that disinformation constitutes a security threat for society. Lately, it broadened the scope of its efforts, for example by obliging platforms to work with fact-checkers.

One of the key points I make in my dissertation is that differentiating between misinformation and disinformation (based on intentions and “bad” actors) isn’t actually helpful. Erroneous beliefs spread in ways that we do not fully understand, and scholars disagree all the time about their impact on society. One thing is certain though, misinformation spreads regardless of intentions. First, studies show that beliefs are established depending on how they fit pre-existing assumptions. Second, information goes viral thanks to algorithms designed to prioritise shocking content because it keeps users engaged on their platforms. So, misinformation spreads through well-intentioned people who want to enlighten others by sharing information that they genuinely believe to be correct. And anyways, intentions are subjective because what I perceive as “intent to harm” may be perceived as “intent to protect from harm” by someone else.

Trying to decipher between good and bad, benevolent and evil actors, or beneficial and harmful content (what the EU has been doing) is a slippery slope. And we can’t afford moral paradoxes in a world where actors thrive on confusion to gather more power.

I’m sure you are all familiar with the adage “divide and conquer”.

Having researched misinformation for the past decade, I’ve often thought: “This person lives in a different universe!”. Technically, they live on the same planet, but they do exist and construct their identity and beliefs based on very different information universes. They live in countries with different media, politicians, a different justice system, different education system, and even a different version of the Internet.

People and organisations who seek more power — like politicians and big tech companies — capitalise on these divisions. The “us vs. them” narrative is popular because it taps into deeply rooted psychological mechanisms that make us feel better when we are surrounded by people who think like us, and more hostile towards people who are different from us, especially in times of fear and uncertainty.

But instead of “divide and conquer”, I think we could “unite and liberate”. So, another key point I make in my thesis is that structural measures that seek to build societal resilience to information manipulation are much more appropriate, in the long term, to tackle misinformation, propaganda, and opposition between information ecosystems. It’s a better objective for public good.

Ideally, we should all be able to critically consume information and call bullshit where it is due, whether that comes from Russia, China, Hungary, or the European Commission, regardless of the intentions of its spreaders, and regardless of its consequences for political regimes or corporations. That is the ultimate public goal. But it’s not easy to empower everyone to understand each other and to collaborate beyond what has ever existed.

The problem with our division into separated, impossible-to-reconcile universes, is that it makes accountability and transparency incredibly difficult. The EU has created new reporting obligations for online platforms, but the impact on society is still unclear. Who, aside from civil servants, looks at those transparency reports? It’s not designed with citizens in mind. It’s also just not working. While the EU claims its trustworthiness is at an all-time high, other studies show that trust in public institutions is declining, half of EU citizens are dissatisfied with democracy and most of them are skepticalabout their governing elite. New European laws like the Digital Services Act have had so far no impact on the amount of harmful content online. Experts are concerned that we are witnessing the end of the “liberal world order”, as democracies and multilateralism are in decline worldwide.

What a mess, right?

Before my Masters studies, I worked as a consultant for the European Commission, implementing its public diplomacy programme in the EU’s eastern neighbourhood. I had the chance of meeting thousands of young people from all horizons who were globally able to discern truth from fiction, to unite around common principles of freedom and justice, and acknowledge their own biases by connecting with people who viewed the world differently. We were creating opportunities for those connections to happen and it was honestly one of the best experiences of my life.

Still, it never felt like it was enough, as the post-Soviet space has continued to be riddled with violent conflict. Back then, I remember thinking: “Why was the EU not doing more to fight misinformation and propaganda?”. And as I noticed that more and more people were hired to tackle this problem, I then wondered: “Wait, how did that wake-up call happen?”.

This experience is the motivation behind my dissertation, which analyses how the EU has responded to misinformation. I look at the origins of those policies, their development, and propose some ideas to improve how we think about them. To do that, I identified big milestones in the development of EU policies against misinformation and retraced, like a detective, who did it, how they did it, where it happened. The evidence I used to build my case comes from interviews that I conducted with 50 people and over 400 documents like laws, voting records, and meeting minutes that I analysed with a qualitative data analysis software.

When I started working on this subject, I thought I was going to uncover how the EU had become this grand strategic actor, showing leadership in pushing for new measures to counter Russian influence operations. As it is often the case when starting a new research project, I was completely wrong… Perhaps one of the most valuable lessons I learned during this PhD is that there are no simple explanations to complex issues. There are so many things I learned while speaking to diplomats in Brussels and The Hague, connecting the dots between politics and media, and while reading hundreds of books and articles on misinformation, from psychology and political science to physics and network science.

I could not possibly tell you everything, but I chose to highlight four fundamental empirical findings in my propositions:

1. When I looked for the origins of misinformation policies, the very first impetus to do more at the EU level, I found that the Baltic states and particularly Latvia were at the forefront of a coalition of states who lobbied strategically and actively to counter Russian propaganda.

2. In policy circles and in the media, misinformation has been framed as a security threat. This is understandable, but problematic because the procedures of decision-making in the field of foreign and security policy allow for less scrutiny and democratic accountability. Security is a very subjective concept that evolves with time. Political actors can use this framing strategy to hide certain information. It is the case in Hungary, for example, where the state of emergency is utilised to silence critics of the Orban regime.

3. The broadening of EU measures, from fact-checking to media bans, means that our information universe is restricted not only for what’s illegal, but also for what political institutions consider “harmful”. This is not optimal for an organisation like the EU, which preaches democracy and freedom. It creates a paradox and damages its credibility as a soft power on the global stage.

4. This also means that citizens are not involved in decisions about a fundamental pillar of democracy, the public sphere. Here lies the key to boost EU legitimacy in its information governance: to involve both independent authorities and citizens in decisions about what shouldn’t be allowed in our information universe.

I hope that this introduction sparked your curiosity and that you will enjoy the remaining time of this defence to learn more about this fascinating and fundamental issue for society.

Thank you.

My PhD thesis will soon be available on the website and in the buildings of the Leiden University Library. In the meantime, parts of my dissertation have already been published in scientific journals. You can read them here.

🔗 This article was first published in on sophiepomme.com on 3 June 2025.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent posts:

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• The Origins of Disinformation Policies in the EU

I have had the chance of asking Michele D’Urbino, microelectronics engineer, about the tiny little chips used in computers and smartphones. The tech industry has been booming with recent advances in artificial intelligence and quantum mechanics and, as a result, the demand for microelectronics has too. You probably have heard of the company Nvidia rising as the world’s third most-valuable company in early 2024, with skyrocketing sales of compute and networking. At the same time, microchips have created new risks and tensions on a global scale. Some states fear supply chain disruptions that would dramatically impact our societies, given how dependent we have become of the tiny machines.

In this interview, we dive deep inside the world of technology and uncover how microchips work, why geopolitical tensions arose around their manufacturing, why the semiconductors industry has been booming, as well as upcoming trends in the microelectronics industry.

About Michele D'Urbino, Design Engineer at SiTime Corporation

Sophie: Hi Michele! Could you introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about what you do?

Michele: I’m Michele D’Urbino, I did my Bachelor’s degree in biomedical engineering at Politecnico di Milano, and continued my education with a Master’s in microelectronics in Delft, the Netherlands. I also hold an MBA from the Quantic School of Business and Technology. I have worked briefly in Belgium in the field of imaging sensors (cameras) for scientific and space applications. Now, I work as a design engineer for the Dutch office of a Silicon Valley-based corporation (SiTime) that develops micro-electromechanical systems (MEMS), commonly known as microchips.

My main field of specialization is analog electronics: basically a bridge between the world of physics and nature, and the digital world. It answers questions like: how can I make a computer understand the physical quantities that humans perceive (light, temperature, color, sound) but also phenomena that we cannot sense ourselves, like radio waves, magnetic fields, chemical traces…

In practical terms, this translates into designing integrated circuits, or chips. These small spider-like silicon pieces, despite their minuscule size, embody an incredible level of complexity. Chips are the main building blocks for all modern electronics, and can serve many different purposes (sensing, computing, storing data, transmitting and receiving, driving motors…). Fabricating such tiny marvels is also extremely challenging: for this purpose, the Dutch company ASML has created the most complex machine ever known to men.

For the last 6 years, I have been working in the field of timing. Timing and synchronization are critical parts of any system: think of it as the heartbeat of electronics. I think of it as the natural evolution of clockmaking, translated to the 21st century. The challenges are very similar: extreme precision and complexity should be achieved, while the size and energy usage should be minimized. We are able tocreate chips that have a precision of one-billionth of a second, while others can operate for years on a small coin-like battery.

Microelectronics applications in our daily lives

S: Wow! That sounds super cool. I can imagine that a lot of the machines we use everyday rely on this type of technology, is that correct? What kind of “everyday objects” use microchips? Which types of applications do you specialise in? What types of applications could you imagine coming up in the near future (~3 years)?

M: It is easier to think about what doesn’t rely on microchips than to think of what does. In other words, most of the tools we use daily depend on microchips. Some of the most common objects that rely on chips are phones, laptops, watches, cars and so forth. It’s good to remember that virtually any branch of human knowledge has been transformed by electronics, and therefore today’s world cannot be imagined without them. Every software needs a hardware to run it, therefore everything from AI to weather forecast to apps on our phones ultimately are run by chips. Our economy relies on extremely fast chips making transactions. Our politics relies on chips recording, storing and broadcasting our leaders’ messages. It’s impossible to overstate the prevalence of chips today: everything that’s smarter than an ON/OFF switch is handled by chips (yes, even your bike’s blinking lights!).

I am very excited about brain-computer interfaces: while sci-fi scenarios like mind-reading machines are very far away, my hope is that in the next 3 years we will see the first practical uses, for example help patients affected by paralysis to re-gain control over their bodies.

As an engineer, the good thing of working on electronics is that the product you design can be used in an infinite number of ways. Some chips are extremely specialized for a specific application, we call those ASIC. But most of the chips I design can be used anywhere: cars, factories, phones… The basic principles behind designing a chip are mostly the same, regardless of the application, in fact many engineers don’t even know what their products are used for!

For the near future, the industry is focusing mostly on a handful of applications that offer significant technical challenges: automotive (self-driving cars), AI, quantum computing, internet of things (IoT) and networking (5G). Personally, I am very excited about brain-computer interfaces: while sci-fi scenarios like mind-reading machines are very far away, my hope is that in the next 3 years we will see the first practical uses, for example help patients affected by paralysis to re-gain control over their bodies.

Microchips, electronics, and semiconductors... What's the difference?

S: We often hear about chips together with microelectronics and semiconductors. What are those? What are the main components of chips? How would you explain their functioning simply?

M: I know, that can be very confusing! What came first was electricity, the ancient Greek word for amber. They were already aware of it! When electrons were discovered in 1897, people naturally started playing with them, that’s when electronics was born. At that time, getting anything useful out of those electrons (for example, resolving a basic math equation) took entire rooms full of huge machines. That all changed when it was discovered that certain materials, semiconductors, had the potential to shrink those huge machines to much more manageable sizes. The king of semiconductors has always been silicon, a very common element that can be found in sand and rocks of all kinds. Since then, it has been a journey towards miniaturization, that’s why we talk about microelectronics. Chips are nothing more than “engineered” squares of silicon, which can be processed to form billions of interconnected transistors.

Information is thought of as the single, most valuable resource one can possess, and without the hardware to support it, we would all be a whole lot poorer.

Now let me tell you about transitors. They are the most fundamental element in any type of electronic circuit. A bunch of transistors can be arranged together to perform complex math functions (logic), to store information (memory), or to transmit/receive it. In its essence, you can think of a transistor as a switch, for example, that on a table lamp wire. This switch decides whether the electric current will pass from one side to the other (light turns on) or not. Now, what is great about a transistor is that it doesn’t require your finger on the switch to decide what to do with the current: that can be controlled by another electric signal, for example the output of another transistor! Effectively, it acts like a tiny, smart traffic cop for electricity. you can combine many transistors to create complex patterns.

Microelectronics as a source of geopolitical power struggles

S: Those terms also often appear in the news at the moment, because it seems that only a few countries (the United States and Taiwan, for example) can produce them at large scale. This creates some rivalry, supply chain risks, and trade wars (for example by increasing import/export tariffs). Can you tell us a little bit about your perception of the industry in The Netherlands and/or in Europe and/or the world? In your view, how could chips be understood as “sources of power”?

M: There are many electronics companies that everyone has heard of: Nvidia, Apple, Qualcomm… But most companies, including the one I work for, only design chips, they don’t have the capabilities to produce them. The reason is that the factories (“fabs”) needed to manufacture chips can cost several billion USD, which isn’t spare change even for the aforementioned giants. TSMC is a Taiwanese company that produces more than 60% of the world’s chips, including those designed and used by the western companies I mentioned. The semiconductor market makes up one fourth of Taiwan’s entire GDP.

It’s been wildly proven that collaboration always benefits countries more than working in isolation. Unfortunately, in today’s world, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. The trend is going towards each country having to invest tens of billions to ensure their technologic survival, rather than rely on international trading.

So, what is China eyeing? Taiwan, or TSMC? China controlling or destroying TSMC would make the 2008 crisis look like a walk in the park. That’s why a lot of western companies try to ensure that they have alternative sources, in case something like this happens. Information is thought of as the single, most valuable resource one can possess, and without the hardware to support it, we’d all be a whole lot poorer. On the flip side, some of the key machines used by TSMC and other fabs are made by Europe and the US and are now subject to embargo measures towards China.

In an ideal world, we’d all benefit from each country’s strengths and strategic resources. It’s been wildly proven that collaboration always benefits countries more than working in isolation. Unfortunately, in today’s world, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. The trend is going towards each country investing tens of billions to ensure their national technologic survival, rather than rely on international trading. Needless to say, this doesn’t benefit anybody, and as an engineer, it saddens me to see the world converging to a non-optimal solution.

The boundaries of technological precision and complexity

S: You mentioned earlier that your job requires making extremely precise and complex little machines, like super powerful clocks. Do you see any potential end to that precision and complexity, in other words, do you think we can make chips infinitely more precise and complex? Or is there a physical limit to what is possible? What does that imply, practically?

M: Gordon Moore, co-founder of Intel, famously predicted that the number of transistors (see above) in a chip would double every two years. This means we can squeeze more functions in a smaller space. This goes by the name of “Moore’s law”, although it’s more of an observation or a wish than an actual law. This hunch turned out to be correct until recently. It’s what we witnessed from the 60’s to a few years ago: you bought a new computer or phone while fully aware that in 3 years’ time, it’d be nothing more than a useless carcass compared to the brand-new gadgets that would come out. However, that trend was doomed to meet a hard barrier: the size of atoms! Some companies today are able to produce transistors as small as 2-3 nanometers, or billionths of a meter. Well, that’s just a handful of atoms!

Now is the chance for young scientists to find a new path forward, to continue progressing. This may come in many forms, for example in the shape of quantum computing, which has the potential to revolutionize our field.

Moore’s law as we know it has slowed down in recent years, and eventually will stop. So now is the chance for young scientists to find a new path forward, to continue progressing. This may come in many forms, for example in the shape of quantum computing, which has the potential to revolutionize our field. Others bet on new materials (e.g. carbon nanotubes) or novel ways of combining existing components (e.g. neuromorphic computing).

One thing is for sure, while the past focused on blind miniaturization, the future will require creativity and courage. For this reason, it’s a unique and exciting time to approach the field of microelectronics.

Common misunderstandings about microelectronics

S: What is one of the most common misunderstandings you hear or see about microelectronics?

M: I think in general there is some confusion differentiating between hardware and software. Very often people think any engineer can fix your computer, while that is rarely the case. In fact, in my company, the only non-engineers work for the IT department, helping us with computers! Even “coding” or “programming” is not really something engineers generally excel at. We like to stay close to the fundamental physics. Most engineers design, rather than code, which mean they cuss at the computer just as much as everybody else, if not more.

Instead, we deal with hardware, i.e. everything you can touch (although, admittedly, you’d need pretty tiny hands for that!). While “macro”-electronics (e.g. your home electrical system) is technically hardware, microelectronics engineers are also not electricians: yes, I know how a switch works, but I have no idea about safety requirements, practical aspects, or cost of your home’s electrical system installation. You should ask a professional!

We already live knees-deep in science fiction: we have almost limitless compute power and storage space.

To sum things up, engineers are usually extremely specialised in their field, and are pretty much clueless about every other engineering branch, which means we aren’t very useful at trivia nights…

Finally, I want to point to another misconception about the engineering world. While some people think of engineering as sexist, this couldn’t be further from the truth. What I have witnessed is extreme openness towards everybody, regardless of their origins, preferences or “attributes”. This is intrinsic in our discipline: we must be as objective and meritocratic as possible, which means there is no space for bias!

The future of the microchips industry

S: How do you see the microchips industry evolve in the next 10 years?

M: Arthur C. Clarke wrote that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. For him, that was the future, but for us it’s the present. Just think of your phone: is it really that different from a magic wand? And if you were to open one up and look at its components, would you be more convinced that science is behind it? You know that it’s not powered by magic, but you can’t prove it, so it might as well be.

The point is that we already live knees-deep in science fiction: we have almost limitless compute power and storage space. Now, even the disciplines that were thought of as distinctively “human” (e.g. social sciences, biology) are being infiltrated by technology. Painters, musicians, writers, linguists, and psychologists are now competing with AI, while industrial robots can be much stronger than any of us, but also much more precise and delicate.

We don’t really need any groundbreaking technology, but rather, we need a legal and societal framework that allows technology’s use to its full potential, and creativity to identify where technology can lend humans a hand.

Therefore, we don’t really need any groundbreaking technology, but rather, we need a legal and societal framework that allows technology’s use to its full potential, and creativity to identify where technology can lend humans a hand. I invite everyone that can think of any issue that can be resolved with technology to contact me.

While Moore’s law may be dead, the demand for chips has never been higher, and it is expected to grow indefinitely as we find more applications for them. Personally, my hope is that, thanks to chips, we will slowly converge towards a society where machines do most of the unpleasant work, fuelling the economy, while most humans can focus on being humans, enjoying pleasant activities and working only if they are inclined to do so. This reality may be far away, but let’s start building it today and let’s keep dreaming!

If you have any questions, please feel free to get in touch with Michele at michele.durbino[at]gmail.com. 

🔗 This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 6 April 2024.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent posts:

• Regulation vs Innovation: How to Save the EU from Global Irrelevance

• My Key Takeaways from the World Forum for Democracy

• Cultivating an “AI Mindset”: Interview with Tech Consultant Jens Meijen

• The Dark Side of AI: Understanding the Security Risks of ChatGPT

Since most other great powers are showing increasingly protectionist policies, many have voiced that it’s time for the EU to also become more strategic in the protection of its interests. The European Commission has realised this too, for instance with the launch of the Global Gateway to rival China’s Belt and Road Initiative. Similarly, US regulations concerning tax credits for electric vehicles generated a dispute over supply chains for critical minerals. However, buzzwords such as “strategic autonomy” and a “geo-political Commission” have failed to convince.

We propose to approach this dilemma with a stick-and-carrot strategy that combines regulatory power and innovative strength to create a value-based innovation ecosystem. This will prove instrumental for what some have called “the New Digital Cold War”. Here’s how this article proceeds:

• The Stick: EU Regulations’ Protection

• The Missing Carrot: A Taste of Innovation

• The Balancing Act: A a Value-based Innovation Ecosystem

The Stick: EU Regulations’ Protection

To protect its values, the EU has been brandishing a 'stick': an array of regulations covering various policy fields, from environment to trade. Some of the most well-known include the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), the Digital Services Act (DSA), the European Climate Law, as well as the incoming Data Act and AI Act. These rules protect the environment, citizens’ privacy and safety, and ensure fair business practices. They are the foundations of the fundamental values that the EU stands for. The “Brussels Effect” — the impact of EU laws on global industry standards and policies — has made a lot of noise, most recently regarding the regulation of technology such as artificial intelligence (AI). In their report for the Oxford Centre for the Governance of AI, Charlotte Siegmann and Markus Anderljung predict that the EU AI Act is likely to influence both the design of products across the world and the regulations that non-EU countries will adopt.

Despite their noble purpose, some regulations inadvertently also erect barriers to innovation.

Yet, regulations do not always yield the intended effects. In a quick poll conducted by Bloomberg, the majority of participants shared that their first thought when coming across the cookies pop-ups enforcing GDPR is “This is incredibly annoying, please make it stop”. Despite their noble purpose, some regulations inadvertently also erect barriers to innovation. Companies, particularly small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) and start-ups, face the daunting challenge of meeting the EU’s stringent standards, which can be financially and administratively burdensome. This year, Digital Future for Europe (a group of 100+ start-ups, scale-ups and tech associations) conducted a surveyrevealing that 53% struggle to comply with new regulation. In 2022, 139 start-ups waited for more than 12 months to receive EU funding money because of a disagreement within the Commission over how to manage the equity fund. In sum, bureaucracy casts a shadow on the competitiveness of European companies.

In September 2023, the European Commission unveiled a new recovery package for SMEs, which represent 99% of European businesses. The measures aim to close legal loopholes and simplify tax administration procedures and reporting requirements, for instance by allowing small cross-border companies to file tax reports in one state only — because no, that wasn’t the case already. The Commission also promised to boost investment for SMEs, which so far amounts to €200 billion for 2021-2027 under its various funding programmes. It proposed a new Strategic Technologies for Europe Platform (STEP) that would limit the EU’s strategic dependencies. The European Parliament voted favourably on this proposal, which is now due to be discussed in the Council.

The Missing Carrot: A Taste of Innovation

To effectively protect its values in a competitive global arena, the EU is missing a 'carrot.' While leading in regulations, Europe lags in financial incentives and support structures. Unlike Silicon Valley, European venture capital is more of a playground for bureaucracy than for bold ideas. Investors shudder at the thought of navigating EU regulations, fearing these rules as roadblocks to growth. Ultimately, those businesses often choose to conduct their activities elsewhere, indirectly contributing to Europe’s progressive loss of relevance in the world. To effectively compete with innovation and financial hubs in North America and Asia, the EU must present a 'carrot' to attract global innovators in addition to improving the ‘stick’ of its regulator framework.

EU policies and instruments facilitating funding for SMEs, start-ups, and high-growth enterprises are insufficient for the EU to retain a share in the global tech market, ultimately compromising its technological sovereignty.

Research ****shows that EU policies and instruments facilitating funding for SMEs, start-ups, and high-growth enterprises (for example, Invest EU and Horizon Europe) are insufficient for the EU to retain a share in the global tech market, ultimately compromising its technological sovereignty. “Europe risks to becoming an ‘incubator’ for other world regions, without being able to harvest the results of publicly funded research programmes.” wrote a group of economists in 2022 based on a study conducted with 117 experts.

National authorities and civil society organisations have also voiced their dissatisfaction with current efforts. Oxfam lamented the Commission’s failure to meaningfully tackle big multinationals’ tax evasion. The German government has asked to raise the threshold of SMEs qualification from 250 to 500 employees to “restrict the burden on them to what is really necessary”. The French and German finance ministers concurred in saying that the EU’s sustainable finance framework leaves much room for improvement and that “we need to make sure that requirements are manageable”. In a recent report, Members of the European Parliament (MEP) called for harmonised definitions of start-ups and scale-ups, to reflect their differences from SMEs, and for their greater access to public procurement, loans and venture capital. “Start-ups are the driving force of innovation and are worth around €2 trillion in Europe, they have to be properly defined as an active player in the economy.” said MEP Tsvetelina Penkova.

The EU’s commitment to its values must be matched by an emphasis on making finance and markets more accessible for investors, SMEs, and start-ups. A significant boost in incentives like grants, tax breaks, and easier access to venture capital should be the luscious 'carrot' that offsets the weight of strict requirements. It would not only compensate businesses for their regulatory endeavours but also draw in global investors and innovators, turning Europe into a value-based hub for entrepreneurs. Creating this well-balanced environment is the key to preserving Europe’s relevance on the global stage while maintaining its unequivocal commitment to human rights, environment protection, and fairness.

EU Regulation vs Innovation: The Balancing Act

The days in which the EU could play of its normative power are over. The lingering inequality from its imperial and colonial past, its failure to meet expectations, and its double standards have been largely documented and analysed. Europe’s reckoning is looming on the horizon. It’s high time for the EU to find new ways of exercising geo-political power if it wants to keep a seat at the table. The EU should create a value-based innovation ecosystem that goes beyond offering recovery packages and closing legal loopholes.

Much research has been conducted on this subject, which the EU should systematically take into account and widely disseminate so that it reaches all corners of the ecosystem. To quote economists Quas and others (2022), the EU must put in place:

measures to build supportive entrepreneurial ecosystems, ensuring the presence of favourable framework conditions, such as enhancing the competences of workers, promoting relationships with academia, and other grass-roots measures that nurture the ‘pipeline’ of start-ups with flagship innovative projects and technologies.

Revising current regulations to reduce barriers to international expansion, recruitment, and investments were also cited as measures of the utmost importance. The European Commission’s Science Hub (also known as the Joint Research Centre) has analysed the massive impact that better start-up support would have on the EU’s economy. Progress is noticeable; however, work remains to be done.

How to create an competitive value-based innovation ecosystem:

• The EU must foster collaboration with entrepreneurs. The European Commission should instil a culture of partnership with venture capitalists, business owners, and innovators. In accordance with its Better Regulation Agenda, it must put in place modern and effective means of dialogue, building on ongoing efforts to improve participatory and deliberative democracy (e.g. Level Up uses gamification to optimise public consultation).

• The EU must champion accountability. The European Commission must put marginalised groups, poorer regions, and developing partners at the forefront of its value-based innovation ecosystem. This is essential to remain a credible geo-political power and to rebuild trust with its long-time partners. Civil society will play a crucial role in the decolonisation of the EU’s rules and practices, including for businesses.

• The EU must harness its diversity. EU institutions have to foster a variety of thoughts, ethnicities, knowledges, abilities, and identities in developing and implementing policies that will determine the future of their agency on the global stage. Scholars have extensively demonstrated the power of inter-disciplinarity for global politics.

• The EU must be effectively transparent. The EU's innovation ecosystem must be made more accessible and visible to all. While initiatives supporting SMEs and start-ups have flourished, they remain largely buried under bureaucracy and poorly designed webpages. The European Commission must fight a fierce battle against its jargon and actively modernise its communication and advertisement practices, especially when it comes to capital access.

• And last but not least, the EU must substantially boost investment in innovation. If the European Commission is serious about the protection of its values, it must be ready to pay for their price. There is an urgent need for more funding for SMEs and start-ups. The EU must act as a fast-paced incubator supported by private investment, which can be attracted by “improving the risk-return profile for private investors using non-pari passu strategies”, (Quas et al, 2022). This strategy, also recommended by the European Court of Auditors, allows for parties to not share the same profits and losses, thereby attracting more venture capital.

Conclusion

In sum, the European Union has serious work to do if it wants to remain a credible and influential actor in an increasingly competitive global world. If it truly wants to provide an alternative market for value-based products, for example with European digital platforms and Large Language Models, it must make it impressively competitive. Make no mistake, the EU is currently losing the growth and innovation race and it must make tremendous efforts to come back in a leading position if it wants to continue preserving its values on a global scale. A competitive value-based innovation ecosystem is the only way to save the EU from global irrelevance, and much work remains to be done to achieve balance between regulation and innovation. 

This article was written by Sophie Vériter, Oxford-graduate researcher specialising in European democracy and security, in collaboration with Nils Beers, Venture Capitalist passionate about the freedom and quality of life that Europe has to offer.

🔗 This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 19 November 2023.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent publications:

• My Key Takeaways from the World Forum for Democracy

• Cultivating an “AI Mindset”: Interview with Tech Consultant Jens Meijen

• From 'Free Speech Absolutist' to 'Digital Dictator': Unveiling Musk’s Twitter (now X) Exit from EU Disinformation Code

• Deepfake Technology: Risks and Opportunities

• The Dark Side of AI: Understanding the Security Risks of ChatGPT

• European Democracy and Counter-Disinformation: Toward a New Paradigm? for Carnegie Europe  

• Tackling COVID-19 Disinformation: Internal and External Challenges for the European Union for The Hague Journal of Diplomacy

In this article, I’ll share my key takeaways from the World Forum for Democracy. They are by no means a reflection of the event as a whole but a collection of my personal thoughts on the discussions that I attended, which were only a fraction of the whole range of debates and presentations organised. The forum was entirely recorded and every section of its programme can be watched here.

“Democracy is about people and it’s high time we put its social dimension back at its centre.”

Getting the Basics Right

The Forum started with a series of plenary discussions that presented key facts and figures about democracy. Without much surprise, speakers highlighted the decline in support for democratic regimes.

A study conducted at the University of Cambridge’s Centre for the Future of Democracy shows that, across generations, people are increasingly dissatisfied with democracy. Similarly, the V-Dem Institute shows that the number of states which an be considered as democracies are declining, while the number of autocracies keeps growing. Democracies have been associated with higher levels of peace and economic growth, according to our speakers from the Institute for Economics and Peace (IEP). Nuance is however needed. Democracies may not usually be directly involved in violent conflicts (with notable exceptions such as Israel), they often actively fuel conflicts across the globe. As pointed out by Steve Killelea, Director of the IEP, some of the biggest arms exporters are democracies.

Furthermore, speakers highlighted the recent upsurge in violence around the world and the failure of institutions created in the aftermath of World War II, such as the United Nations, to address those conflicts and preserve democratic values. They noted the growth of intersectional global challenges fuelling one another, including gender inequality, climate change, and migration to name a few. I was particularly seduced by the intervention of Taeho Lee, Director of the Center for Peace and Disarmament of the People’s Solidarity for Participatory Democracy (PSPD) in Seoul, Korea. Mr Lee highlighted that governments have pursued democracy and peace through power, ignoring the voices of people. He invited us to see democracy as more than a concept, a set of theories, or institutions, but as an activity of the collectivity. Namatai Kwekweza (WELEAD) added that democracy manifests as different types of challenges, depending on the community where it is taking place. Democracy is indeed about people, and it’s high time we put its social dimension back at its centre.

“What About Us?” and the Purpose of Democracy

Participants had many opportunities to share comments and ask questions. I could not help but notice a common thread among those, namely the outcry of people whose nation or community had been affected by violence. Their only hope seemed to be the promise of peaceful democratic societies. The universality of human rights they defend. What I kept hearing was “What about us? What about my people? Have you abandoned us? Have you forgotten us?”. These questions highlight a painful truth: in the face of violent conflict, democracy is powerless. What is more, democracies have failed to make people heard and included, a very important element for modern security concepts such as ontological security (a sense of continuity and identity) and human security (understood at the human rather than state level). Hence, I had to ask in the plenary session on “democratic security”: What can we do to empower marginalised groups who face real life or death situations? This question entails the necessity to re-think the responsibility to protect so that it materialises in ways that individuals affected by conflict really need.

“If we claim that democracy isn’t the end goal, but certain ideologies are, we lose its essence.”

Another fundamental question came up in our plenary debate: is democracy the end goal? I think it should be. If democracy isn’t the end goal (instead, the objective could be to defend liberal values, for example), democracy is used to present one’s political agenda as being superior. Democracy has to be the end goal because that’s exactly what it is about: creating space for everyone to be welcome at the table, even if you disagree. Finding common ground. Evidently, this is only possible when democracy is paired with the protection of Human Rights and the Rule of Law, hence why they’re often grouped. When studying democracy typologies at Oxford University, I learned about consociational democracy as a “superior” type of democracy, one that is more stable and peaceful. At the World Forum for Democracy, I couldn’t help but think about what Arend Lijphart argued: cooperation, consensus, proportionality, and community should be at the forefront of democracy, as opposed to the will of the majority. Pluralism is essential. If we claim that democracy isn’t the end goal, but certain ideologies are, we lose its essence.

Double Standards and Moral Superiority

Many interventions from participants mentioned the undeniable existence of double standards in international institutions promoting democracy, not only in the political field but also judicial. The example of Russia being kicked out of the Council of Europe while Azerbaijan has been allowed to stay in, when both have violated human rights, instilled violent conflict, and present authoritarian tendencies, came up more than once. The false sense of moral superiority of democracies, who nevertheless also find themselves disrespecting human rights, fuelling conflicts, and committing war crimes (e.g. Israel), raised many eyebrows in the audience.

It’s just as important to look outside than to look within. As put by Alessandra Cardaci (Debating Europe), it’s like a relationship: you have to help your partner to grow while you keep working on yourself. The days in which Europe and the West could present themselves as morally superior have definitely come to an end, and it would be judicious to acknowledge our flaws and mistakes instead.

During the second day of the World Forum for Democracy, we had the opportunity to attend a series of “labs” (initiatives presented by NGOs, activists, and researchers) and “talks” (hot topics discussed by experts and high-level policymakers). It was difficult to choose between the many fascinating subjects of discussion. At the lab entitled “Knowledge is Power”, I presented the initiative I co-developed with 8 other doctoral researchers, Level Up, which uses gamification to optimise participatory and deliberative democracy. Afterwards, I attended the talk “The Truth of War Crimes”, which discussed the role of journalism and open source intelligence in the prosecution of war crimes. We learned about the absolutely incredible work of Kathryne Bomberger (International Commission for Missing Persons), Eliot Higgins (Bellingcat), and Antoine Bernard (Reporters Without Borders), among others. However, what struck me was the choice of words of one journalist in the room, who explained that he felt thankful for Russia’s war in Ukraine because it helped him understand why he was doing what he was doing: “this will help us explain why it’s good to be European”. I almost had a heart attack.

“Democracy cannot equal peace if we need wars to understand the value of Human Rights and the Rule of Law.”

This discourse perfectly illustrates the mistaken sense of “moral superiority” that many participants criticised. Democracies are not morally superior and it’s our collective responsibility to stop looking down on other countries and utilising their fate as a means to make sense of democratic states’ actions. Similarly, Noni Hlophe (Global Shapers Community) shared with me: who says there’s only one way of getting it right? Western models of democracies are not a perfect, one-size-fits-all approach. When will they start treating their partners as equal partners? The condescending tone needs to stop. Words matter. Most importantly, I found this journalist’s declaration profoundly sad. Did he truly need to see the death of innocents happen before his eyes for him to understand the meaning of his work? What would this reveal about our humanity, our empathy, if we had to continually see horrors to realise why we defend justice? Will we ever learn from History? Democracy cannot equal peace if we need wars to understand the value of Human Rights and the Rule of Law.

The Fourth Branch of Government

On the second day of the World Forum for Democracy, I joined a discussion on the “fourth branch of government”, a term coined by former Prime Minister George Papandreou which refers to the introduction of citizens’ assemblies as an additional pillar in the traditional power structure of states (judicial, executive, and legislative). As an active defender of participatory and deliberative democracy, I could not be more excited by this debate. The panel of speakers included Mr Papandreou himself (now Chair of the Council of Europe’s Sub-Committee on Democracy), Professor Byong-Jin Ahn (Kyung Hee University, Seoul), and Achilles Tsalas (Democracy & Culture Foundation, UK), among others. Their interventions alluded to the idea of longtermism in politics, i.e. prioritising long-term benefits as a moral imperative. The speakers insisted that “bold social action” and innovation was a prerequisite to make the fourth branch of government a reality in democracies.

However, I was disappointed to see the discussion running in circles. Some were claiming to use “innovative tools and methods” in their activities, but I could not see or hear anything I had not come across already. The reality is that thousands of researchers and civil society organisations have been working on developing innovative means of engaging citizens in democratic decision-making, gamification being a prime example. Dozens of other fantastic initiatives were presented in the labs throughout the World Forum for Democracy but, during this debate, their work and efforts were largely ignored. This situation illustrates the siloed co-existence of participatory and deliberative democracy efforts, where groups work on similar goals without talking to one another. This is a missed opportunity for he 4th branch of government to reach its full potential.

“Citizens’ hunger for more direct participation in democracy is not going anywhere, and it will keep on growing.”

The truth is it’s extremely complicated to keep track of grassroots initiatives; however, there is so much with can learn from them. This dilemma highlighted a crucial need to better keep track of such efforts, for example with a dedicated committee or organisatiom where lessons and ideas are pooled. The Civil Participation BePART is a great example of that; however, much more resources need to be invested in this work. It must include high-quality strategic communication, awareness-raising campaigns, and partnerships. Indeed, despite Mr Papandreou’s doubts about governments’ readiness to install this 4th branch of government, its spirit is already taking shape and grassroots initiatives will continue flourishing. Governmental actors will have to take a leadership role in this collective effort sooner or later. Citizens’ hunger for more direct participation in democracy is not going anywhere, and it will keep on growing.

Closing Remarks

In this article, I summarised my key takeaways from the 11th edition of the World Forum for Democracy. First, I highlighted the worrying trends when it comes to democracy and the risks that accompany the rise of autocracies worldwide for peace, security, and freedom. Building on the plenary debates, I argued that democracy should become a more social exercise. Second, I exposed democracies’ failure to make marginalised people included and heard, however universal they claim human rights to be. I contend that democracy should be an end in itself to preserve the plurality and inclusivity of debates. Third, I reflected on the double standards and mistaken sense of moral superiority often expressed by democratic regimes. It is essential that Western democracies establish equitable relations with their partners and defend their values before they are fundamentally threatened, if they want to remain a credible influence on the world stage. Finally, I called for a centralised effort to take stock of participatory and deliberative democracy initiatives and research. This is indispensable for the development of innovative solutions to the complex challenges which citizens are increasingly vocal about, especially their feeling of not being heard.

There is one more notable moment worth mentioning in this article. During a lab on freedom of expression, we were deeply shocked to learn that one of our speakers could not join us because he had just been killed in Gaza. Mohammed Al Jaja, a young journalist from Palestine, was supposed to share his experience through a live-stream due to the current war. Words cannot describe the feelings of horror and sadness I could see on everyone’s faces in the room. Beyond those incredibly distressing emotions, I hope that Mohammed’s story serves as a wake-up call. I hope that justice, accountability, and closure is given to everyone affected by violent conflicts which benefit no one but the (corrupted) global arms trade. This feels like a good moment to remind that three of the world’s largest arms exporters are Western democracies.

My condolences to Mohammed’s friends and family. May his soul rest in peace.

Sophie L. Vériter

🔗 This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 11 November 2023.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent publications:

• Cultivating an “AI Mindset”: Interview with Tech Consultant Jens Meijen

• From 'Free Speech Absolutist' to 'Digital Dictator': Unveiling Musk’s Twitter (now X) Exit from EU Disinformation Code

• Deepfake Technology: Risks and Opportunities

• The Dark Side of AI: Understanding the Security Risks of ChatGPT

• European Democracy and Counter-Disinformation: Toward a New Paradigm? for Carnegie Europe  

• Tackling COVID-19 Disinformation: Internal and External Challenges for the European Union for The Hague Journal of Diplomacy

To guide us on this progressive familiarisation with emerging AI-powered technologies, I am thrilled to have interviewed Jens Meijen, with whom I have collaborated on several occasions to create forward-thinking solutions to global problems. In the following article, Jens shares his unique perspective on AI training and risk management, emphasising the importance of cultivating an “AI mindset”. It provides practical tips for those seeking to make the most of modern tools.

Our Guest

Jens Meijen is finishing up his PhD at the University of Leuven and will joinStanford University as a Fulbright Fellow in early 2024. Next to his research, he founded Ulysses AI, a responsible AI consulting firm where he leads consultancy, research, and training projects. His company focuses on AI risk management, AI literacy training, and strategic innovation. Ulysses AI has partnerships with Microsoft for Startups, the Flemish Government, Mission Impact Academy (a global AI school), and the Institute for Technology and Society in Rio.

“A crucial part of the AI mindset is to approach AI systems as tools that take a bit of agency away from us. You need that to work with AI responsibly.”

Interview

S: You’ve been training individuals and companies to make sense of AI and learn how to use it. How do you do that?

J: A lot of training programmes focus on specific tools, like ChatGPT or Midjourney. This is, of course, useful for quite a lot of people, but it’s not a long-term solution. You’ve probably seen the ridiculous speed at which the AI landscape is evolving, so there’s no guarantee that these concrete skills will be useful one year or even a few months from now. Even with the same AI systems, updates might make specific tricks (like types of prompt engineering) obsolete within mere days.

So, we believe that AI training requires a different approach than traditional training for digital tools. There’s nothing wrong with offering concrete tips and tricks, of course, but they should be supplemented, in my view at least, with an AI mindset.

S: An “AI mindset”, what does that mean?

J: It basically means that, to use AI responsibly, you should first focus on “soft skills” before moving on to the “hard skills”. Understanding the technical foundations of AI is one thing, but it’s something else entirely to fully grasp the impact of AI on people and society. AI, in whatever form, changes the way we process information and make decisions—how we work and think. How do you navigate a world full of AI-driven decisions and outputs? You need a different mindset for that, something like ChatGPT isn’t the same as PowerPoint or Slack. The relationship between the user and the technology is different.

A crucial part of the AI mindset is to approach AI systems as tools that take a bit of agency away from us. You need that to work with AI responsibly. Every decision you don’t take, or every decision influenced by an AI recommendation or output, is no longer fully yours. We offer accessible explanations of concepts like agency and free will and apply them to real-world examples in our training sessions. We also teach people how to evaluate potential misinformation and factual errors, how to spot AI-generated images and texts, and how to evaluate the risks of an AI system. You could say we help people detect “hallucinations” in AI output, but I think the term “hallucination” makes AI seem more human than it really is.

S: So, it’s about being aware of the risks and limitations of AI?

J: That’s part of it, sure. A lot of people like to jump straight into the practical use cases. But that opens you up to a range of risks and makes you a lot less efficient. If you don’t understand why a Large Language Model like GPT-4 can’t reliably give you factual information, you’re much more likely to not question its output. If you don’t understand the societal consequences of Generative AI, you’re more likely to deploy it unquestioningly and carelessly, which could lead to catastrophic results. You’re much better equipped to work with AI if you know why it’s risky.

“You should see the limitations of AI as a chance for you, as a human, to bridge those functional gaps.”

But it’s more than awareness. It’s also, for example, about being a careful explorer: you’re not supposed to be scared of AI, you should be interested in knowing more and finding ways to make it work for you. You should see the limitations of AI as a chance for you, as a human, to bridge those functional gaps. An AI mindset is an attitude to take towards AI as a whole, an attitude that helps you utilise its full potential while staying safe from risks.

Back when I was in primary school, we’d get internet literacy classes, where we’d learn how to verify sources and to never blindly trust what we read on the internet. But we were also taught how to use the internet as a powerful tool. That’s a good analogy for the AI mindset we’re trying to cultivate.

S: Writing has never been easier with the popularisation of Large Language Models, especially ChatGPT. What are your tips to make the most of it?

J: It’s really easy to use ChatGPT (that’s part of why it’s so popular) but it’s tricky to master. My tips are pretty simple: ideate and iterate. Use it to quickly generate new ideas for papers or projects, to take new angles to problems you describe in detail, to change your perspective on things you think you already know through and through.

ChatGPT’s writing is too bland and stale to really write well, but it’s great for what I call “splintering”: letting an initial idea, a little seed of inspiration, branch out in different directions without any effort. Just saying ‘give me five ideas for X’, then picking one or two, and asking it to elaborate. It’s simple but effective. Also, keep iterating outputs: just keep asking to refine and revise responses to really get to where you want to be. A first prompt is great to explore what you could do with an idea or what angle a text could take, but you usually need a few iterations to really get something useful.

S: I have seen many professors get scared about students using ChatGPT to “cheat” on their written assignment. It’s, however, notoriously difficult to monitor its use. What would you advise them to do to tackle this issue?

J: I’d say: embrace it. Tools like ChatGPT will change and likely become more specialised, but it’s unlikely they’re going away. You can’t systematically detect AI-generated text anyway, so why fight it? For the naysayers, not all is lost: with enough experience, you can learn how to spot AI-generated writing. If you don’t iterate your prompts (which a lot of students don’t do), it’s robotic, monotonous, and stiff.

If you really want to stop students from using AI, there’s a really simple trick. You can instruct students to write an essay in class, on class computers without internet access (or by hand if you’re feeling really cruel), and then you have a stylistic baseline to compare with any subsequent writing. If a student can’t spell to save their life in class, but suddenly writes perfectly, you know ChatGPT was involved. It just requires some linguistic affinity from you as a professor. But, in the long term, is that really a solution? It makes little sense to penalise students for using modern tools to improve their writing.

For more specific and demanding courses, tools like ChatGPT are not even that useful if you don’t know how to prompt really well. It’s similar to the internet, back in the day: we were banned from using Wikipedia because it made written assignments too easy. Teachers adapted and found more original assignments; I’m sure they’ll adapt again.

The best approach I’ve seen was in a class on international politics where I gave a guest lecture on AI. Students were told to use ChatGPT or a similar tool to write policy recommendations. They were also instructed to include their prompts and why they used them. I think that’s a great way to approach AI in the classroom.

S: With your consultancy, Ulysses AI, you analyse the risks of AI systems. What are the most common flaws you encounter, and how do you usually advise to address them?

J: We’ve seen that most AI tools are actually quite safe from a technical perspective. Most companies we’ve worked with and talked to who develop AI tools are very aware of the risks their tools might entail (even if they don’t always communicate that clearly). They usually build on fairly robust technical infrastructures and check for potential bias or discrimination. We help companies like these refine their risk management strategies and communicate their efforts better. Essentially, we translate their technobabble into understandable language.

“Responsible AI takes time and effort, but I can guarantee that it’s worth it.”

The real issues often arise in the implementation phase. I don’t want to get too technical here, but a lot of companies have extremely complex processes and structures that make it hard to really maintain an overview of the impact an AI system really has. For example, if you want to start using a tool like ChatGPT in a company, you need to start setting clear rules on its use, train staff so everyone’s on the same page and knows ChatGPT’s limitations, and ensure that people don’t blindly copy-and-paste output. Skipping any of those steps could lead to serious problems: clients really don’t like being addressed in the obvious ChatGPT ‘tone of voice’.

Or let’s say you want to start using an AI system that automatically suggests optimised prices for your products. That forces sales, marketing, and IT into a long-term joint effort. Once your technical team is on board, you still need to run experiments in “sandboxes” (isolated environments that simulate your real processes), collect feedback from everyone involved, and continuously rework the system until its performance is up to par. That’s a long process, and not everyone stays on board. Really implementing AI responsibly is a resource-intensive process. The real danger arises when individuals and businesses cut corners in an attempt to deploy more quickly. That’s when you can get in trouble. Responsible AI takes time and effort, but I can guarantee that it’s worth it.

Key Takeaways

My interview with Jens Meijen highlights two points. First, you should be familiar with how AI tools both work and don’t work to make the most of them. Understanding the limitations and risks of Large Language Models (LLMs) such as ChatGPT is fundamental. Learning to recognise AI-generated content is another skill that will prove crucial. Second, the rise of AI-powered technologies signify that there are new opportunities to harness human creativity and critical thinking. When writing becomes easy, emphasis should be put on the cognitive processes that surround it: asking the right questions, collecting relevant data, scrutinising information,… More broadly, when AI takes some of our agency away, which are the decisions that remain in our hands? Which are the skills that it can’t replace? Which data does it ignore? Which are the values it can’t compute? These are some of the questions which will keep guiding you when cultivating an AI mindset.

Sophie L. Vériter

🔗 This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 1 November 2023.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent publications:

• From 'Free Speech Absolutist' to 'Digital Dictator': Unveiling Musk’s Twitter (now X) Exit from EU Disinformation Code

• Deepfake Technology: Risks and Opportunities

• The Dark Side of AI: Understanding the Security Risks of ChatGPT

• European Democracy and Counter-Disinformation: Toward a New Paradigm? for Carnegie Europe  

• Tackling COVID-19 Disinformation: Internal and External Challenges for the European Union for The Hague Journal of Diplomacy

The Europaeum Scholars Programme helped us harness the power of our diversity in our work, with the ultimate goal of making a positive mark on European policy and leadership. Over the course of 20 months, we met on eight occasions to learn from leading scholars, policy-makers, social entrepreneurs, business executives, journalists, and more. We covered a wide range of subjects including the media landscape, democracy, and global governance. Each time, our training modules took place in one of the 19 universities of the Europaeum Network. Oxford, Leuven, Luxembourg, Lisbon, Bologna, Geneva, Helsinki, and Berlin were our meeting grounds.

Alongside this high-level training, we worked on group projects aimed at developing research-based policy recommendations that would help shape the future of Europe. We learned how to craft convincing policy proposals from some of the best diplomats, public servants, and civic activists. We found out that policy writing certainly is an art that requires proper technique and skills, just as much as creativity and audacity. In this article, I reflect on the key lessons we learned about writing clear and impactful policy recommendations.

Lesson 1: Clarity is Key

In the world of policy writing, clarity reigns supreme. We learned this the hard way when, in our workshop with the Centre for Political and Diplomatic Studies (CPDS), the facilitator could not seem to comprehend what we were proposing for the first 30 min of our meeting. Faced with the daunting task of distilling a mount of documents, databases, brainstorming notes, and feedback into a concise 5000-word report, we set a clear structure in which we progressively added the key points of our research. We focused on four core questions: (1) what is our key message? (2) what is the main challenge we seek to address? (3) what is the solution we propose? and (4) how does it look like in practice? What started as a chaotic collection of information metamorphosed into a polished collection of clear, innovative, and actionable recommendations.

The key to clarity? Leaving jargon out. Instead, choose straightforward language, keep sentences as short as possible, and structure ideas logically. Ensure that your idea can be clearly understood by someone without expertise, within the first page. We used the valuable lessons from our CPDS training to guide our writing process, such as the ‘7-questions approach’:

1. WHAT? My essential message

2. WHO? Persons concerned

3. WHEN? Days, hours, deadlines

4. WHERE? Places, institutions, implementation

5. HOW? Circumstances, explanations, method

6. WHY? Causes, objectives, results

7. HOW MUCH? Calculable and measurable data

Particular emphasis was placed on crafting a convincing Executive Summary, the reader’s first impression. Additionally, we harnessed visual aids and data visualisation, using charts, graphs, and visual representations to simplify complex information and make a compelling case.

Finally, you shouldn’t underestimate the power of a compelling title. A catchy name and concept can make a difference. Make sure you have an engaging introduction and a thought-provoking conclusion.

Lesson 2: Know Your Audience

Policy writing is about speaking the language of your audience, putting yourself in their shoes. After a very critical start, we realised that harsh criticism could alienate our audience. We completely rephrased the tone of our report. We realised that understanding our reader’s needs, interests, and familiarity with the subject was the key to effective communication.

We tried to think like policy-makers, to anticipate their reactions, and, most importantly, to envision how they could implement our recommendations in their work. Throughout our interviews, stakeholders expressed that they were willing and seeking to improve their means of connecting with the public, but did not know how or did not have the time. They were willing to try something new, if it was shown to be effective. We therefore made it a priority to show, with measurable data, the impact of our solution as we tested it in two pilot projects. Moreover, we made it clear that we fine-tuned our method to take into consideration the feedback we received.

Adapting your language to convince your reader of the feasibility of our proposals is fundamental. If you can, get feedback on your policy papers from people who are in a similar position as your potential audience. Do some research about how they speak about those issues, which kinds of debates they engage into, and which challenges are currently on their mind. Finding the right tone, and using it consistently, is crucial. You must write so that your policy paper resonates with your target audience throughout. And here’s a pro tip: craft a style guide and a list of key words for a cohesive look.

6 Ways of Getting to Know Your Audience

1. Social Media Engagement: Actively participate in discussions on social media platforms relevant to your policy issue. Follow and engage with individuals who are part of your target audience. This can provide valuable insights into their perspectives and concerns.

2. Online Surveys and Questionnaires: Create online surveys or questionnaires using free tools like Google Forms or SurveyMonkey. Share these surveys through social media, email, or relevant online communities to collect feedback directly from your audience.

3. Reddit and Online Forums: Explore Reddit and other online forums that host discussions on your policy topic. Engage in conversations, ask questions, and listen to the concerns and opinions of community members.

4. Public Meetings and Webinars: Attend virtual public meetings, webinars, or town hall events related to your policy issue. Many of these events are free to join and can provide insights into the perspectives of individuals who are actively engaged in the policy discussion.

5. Collaborate with Nonprofits and Community Groups: Reach out to nonprofit organizations and community groups focused on your policy area. Volunteer your time to collaborate with them on projects or initiatives. This hands-on involvement can deepen your understanding of the issue and its impact on the community.

6. Participate in Local Events: Attend local events, such as community meetings, workshops, or seminars, where discussions about the policy issue may arise. Engage with attendees to gain insights into their concerns and viewpoints.

Lesson 3: Use Storytelling for Impact

Stories aren’t just for bedtime; they’re the lifeblood of effective communication. We realised their power during our exchanges with participants and partners, who seemed to tune in on our vision as soon as we explained the human experiences behind our project. Whether it was our encounter with the aloofness of policy-makers in Brussels or the smiles on the faces of the students we met in Madrid during our first pilot project, our lived experiences made our proposals tangible.

Throughout our report, we ensured to illustrate the potential of our proposals through real-life examples, to apply our recommendations to already existing initiatives, and to propose their implementation into institutionalised processes. We made references to specific institutions, organisations, and individuals who could implement our proposals. In our presentation, we mentioned the humans behind the project we led. We also mentioned some of the partners we worked closely with. Story-telling helps visualising how your ideas can be implemented.

8 Storytelling Tips for Policy Writing

1. Start with a Narrative Hook: Begin your policy report with a compelling real-world story or example related to the issue at hand. This can draw readers in and make the policy matter on a personal level.

2. Show the Problem: Use storytelling to illustrate the severity of the problem. Share statistics, anecdotes, and case studies to provide a comprehensive understanding of the issue’s scope and consequences.

3. Identify the Solution: Introduce your proposed policy solution as the hero of the story. Explain how it can address the problem and make a positive change. Use real-life examples or success stories of similar policies. Describe the anticipated positive impact of the policy on individuals, communities, and society as a whole. Paint a vivid picture of the better future your policy can create.

4. Conflict and Obstacles: Describe the challenges, obstacles, or opposition the policy might face. Highlight the conflicts and potential roadblocks, which can create tension and drive the narrative forward.

5. Success Stories: Share success stories or examples of similar policies that have worked in other places or contexts. This can inspire confidence in your proposed solution. Conclude the report with a strong call to action, urging policymakers, stakeholders, and the public to support and implement the policy. Make it clear why the policy is essential.

6. Humanise the Issue: Introduce the people affected by the policy problem. Share their stories, struggles, and aspirations. Humanizing the issue helps readers empathize and connect with the policy’s impact. Show how our solution will affect different stakeholders. Describe their potential journeys and transformations as a result of the policy’s implementation.

7. Character Arcs for Stakeholders: Show how the policy will affect different stakeholders. Describe their potential journeys and transformations as a result of the policy’s implementation.

8. Visual Storytelling: Use visuals like charts, graphs, and infographics to present data and statistics in a visually compelling way. Visuals can simplify complex information and enhance comprehension.

Final Thoughts

The Europaeum Scholars Programme was so much more than a series of trainings. It’s been a life-changing experience that taught me the value of joining diverse perspectives to tackle complex challenges, but also showed me how to do so. This programme gave us unique opportunities to connect with European change-makers and test innovative solutions for public policy, offering us the chance to boost our skills and knowledge not for ourselves but for the future of Europe.

In this rapidly-changing world where actors and interests constantly clash with the hope of influencing political decisions, effective communication in policy writing is not a luxury but a necessity. Effective policy writing is a collaborative journey, where different points of view come together to provide clear, targeted, and engaging proposals. Ultimately, mastering the art of policy writing comes down to a well-elaborated vision of change. If you want to convince others to do things differently, you must be convinced of the utility and impact of that change yourself, and you should be capable of showing how this change can be achieved.

We presented our policy report (which you can read here) in September 2023 at the Free University of Berlin. In it, we introduce an original method of community engagement based on gamification, which we propose to use to enhance democratic participation in Europe. We have been selected to present our project at the World Forum for Democracy in Strasbourg, on 6-8 November 2023. More importantly, we take away invaluable lessons about teamwork, project management, and stakeholder engagement, as well as life-long friendships which will continue influencing our personal and professional lives well beyond the programme.

Your Policy Writing Essentials

A concise and practical guide to writing clear and impactful policy papers, in particular for students and young professionals seeking to make a difference in European public policy.

DOWNLOAD POLICY WRITING GUIDE

🔗 This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 11 October 2023.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent publications:

• From 'Free Speech Absolutist' to 'Digital Dictator': Unveiling Musk’s Twitter (now X) Exit from EU Disinformation Code

• Deepfake Technology: Risks and Opportunities

• The Dark Side of AI: Understanding the Security Risks of ChatGPT

• European Democracy and Counter-Disinformation: Toward a New Paradigm? for Carnegie Europe  

• Tackling COVID-19 Disinformation: Internal and External Challenges for the European Union for The Hague Journal of Diplomacy

In this post, I review some prominent symptoms of information disorder: propaganda, misinformation, and disinformation. I compare their key characteristics and highlight how they relate to current global affairs.

Read “From ‘Disinformation’ to ‘Information Disorder’: Changing the Narrative About Unwanted Communication” here.

Propaganda

Propaganda is “persuasive mass communication that filters and frames the issues of the day in a way that strongly favours particular interests; usually those of a government or corporation” according to the Oxford Dictionary of Media and Communication. It is the intentional manipulation of public opinion, sometimes through lies and selective reporting. We can think of propaganda as information shared to promote a political cause: it is often but not always misleading and originates often but not always from state actors.

Disinformation

Disinformation is “the intentional and systematic manipulation of information deceiving a target audience to cause public harm, generate profit and/or advance political goals”. It may be part of wider influence operations, led by public actors (e.g. government) or private actors (e.g. corporations). The key terms here are intentional and systematic manipulation, although intent is quite subjective. Disinformation is originated by malign actors, but it relies heavily rely on ordinary folks to spread information. Research suggests that human individuals, not bots, are in fact the main drivers of false reports.

Misinformation

Misinformation is “dissemination of false information, either knowing it to be false (see disinformation), or unknowingly.” In other words, it is incorrect or misleading information, but not necessarily intentionally deceptive and harmful. Without knowing the intention of the actor sharing information, it is not possible to determine whether we are talking about disinformation or misinformation. For this reason, experts tend to speak of misinformation as a broader phenomenon encompassing people knowingly sharing false reports and those doing so in good faith.

Conclusion

The defining lines between propaganda, disinformation, and misinformation are very thin. We can think of these concepts as being subsets of communication and strategic communication (see Figure below). 

In practice, they can take place at various levels, local or international, and between all kinds of actors, private or public, individual or institutional. When looking at the future of global society, we should think of them as malign forms of public diplomacy, understood as “the processes by which international actors advance their ends abroad through engagement of publics”. These phenomena have gained in traction and impact due to the Information Communication Technology (ICT) Revolution, which has propelled their potential reach to exponential levels at minimum cost. They exploit information disorder, which I understand as an information system characterised by low degree of structure.

Working towards a better organised information order is essential to achieve social justice and peaceful prosperity on planet earth. Therefore, understanding the key symptoms of information disorder – propaganda vs disinformation vs misinformation – is a crucial first step in the right direction.

🔗 This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 26 March 2023.

👩🏻 Read more about its author here.

Recent publications:

• “The Dark Side of AI: Understanding the Security Risks of ChatGPT”

• “From ‘Disinformation’ to ‘Information Disorder': Changing the Narrative about Unwanted Communication"

• “European Democracy and Counter-Disinformation: Toward a New Paradigm?” for Carnegie Europe  

• “Tackling COVID-19 Disinformation: Internal and External Challenges for the European Union” for The Hague Journal of Diplomacy

Negotiation: The art of setting context

We had the fantastic opportunity to participate in a two-hour training in negotiations with a seasoned lobbyist and conflict manager, Wolfgang Sporrer. During his introductory lecture, Wolfgang taught us that bargaining does not have to be about “winning” or finding compromise. In negotiations, parties may also seek to gain time, obtain information, or keep status quo. Nevertheless, there are two main types of negotiation techniques which actors may pursue should they seek compromise.

First, the classical distributive negotiation model proposes that compromise happens in the so-called “zone of possible agreement” or ZOPA. This is where positions from the negotiating parties overlap. In this scenario, one side comes out as winner and the other as loser, as one side makes a smaller compromise than the other. This technique focuses on the present situation. It is considered as the “old school” of negotiations.

Second, the Harvard model proposes that compromise happens by “expanding the cake”, i.e. adding new terms of agreement which were originally not on the table. This expands the ZOPA. For example, if two parties struggle to make a sale (e.g. you are negotiating the price of a new car with a seller), one may propose to add on a new feature to the service or product that was being sold (e.g. the seller proposes to keep the price you try to bring down, but offer free leather seats). This model is better suited for long-term relationships, especially political ones. It represents the “new school” of negotiations.

In sum, if we cannot resolve a problem, we can expand the context to find a suitable agreement. Whilst practicing his lessons in a simulation game (the most fun I had all week), I realised that negotiations are indeed more about setting the context of bargaining than bargaining itself. Delimiting the terms of agreement has more impact than negotiating those terms.

If we cannot resolve a problem, we can expand the context to find a suitable agreement.

This is incredibly helpful to understand broader conflicts and challenges: the frame, the narrative surrounding them is often more important than the solutions proposed to fix them. In the case of “disinformation” and other information disorders, this helps us understand that the epistemology and communication that surrounds them is more important than the policies that are proposed to resolve them. Political actors have framed those challenges in a way that has limited the solutions we design, but we should seek to “expand the cake”.

Democratisation: A new wind of change is coming

Over our time in the magical countryside of Bertinoro, we had the honour of exchanging with several renowned scholars and professionals in democracy, including Helene Sjursen, Kalypso Nicolaïdis, Tanja Börzel, Thomas Risse, and Robert Bjarnason. These speakers helped us reflect on the state of democracy in Europe but also on how the European Union (EU) can promote democracy within and beyond its borders. Whilst each had their own unique way of approaching the subject, one point seemed to re-emerge across discussions: Europe urgently needs to start switching things around.

First, the EU isn’t anymore in a position where it can have a normative and prescriptive attitude towards other countries when it comes to democracy (whether it ever has been is another question). Given the democratic backsliding we observe in many of its member states (e.g. Hungary, Poland, but also Italy and Greece) as well as the double standards often applied to external actors (e.g. the differentiated treatment of Syrian and Palestinian refugees in Germany), it simply would be hypocritical. Instead of adopting the position of teacher, the EU should become a learner. Professor Nicolaïdis mentioned valuable lessons that can be learned from Chile and Hong Kong when it comes to democratic innovation. In other words, democracy isn’t a gold standard upheld by a group of countries but an endless collective odyssey in which we all gain from mutual learning.

Democracy isn’t a gold standard upheld by a group of countries but an endless collective odyssey in which we all gain from mutual learning.

Second, democratising opaque decision-making processes increases support and legitimacy. In ber lecture, Professor Sjursen explained European states thus have all to gain from increasing democratic participation in making of foreign policy, security policy, diplomacy, and other fields typically lacking transparency. These fields are increasingly being contested as the public increasingly gets access to information - on a spectrum of accuracy - about them. Opening public debates not only improves support and legitimacy, but also improves social equality and contributes to collective identity, tells us Professor Sjursen.

Overall, our discussions on democracy highlighted a wind of change when it comes to democracy and democratisation. The EU, humbled by its own failures, should urgently seek new ways of engaging with its people, especially in those field which have so far remained under the democratic radar. That’s exactly what we seek to achieve with our group project, Level Up, which you’ll soon hear a lot more about.

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Polarisation: Simplifying complexity

We had several sessions discussing populism, authoritarianism, and information disorder, with experts such as Gianfranco Baldini, Enrico Padoan, Elena Esposito, and Heather Thompson. What these issues all had in common: they reflect a broader problem of polarisation, especially along political lines. However, this issue is very often misunderstood. It is very common to encounter claims that online platforms cause polarisation or even radicalisation. However, these allegations are misguided.

First, as Professor Nicolaïdis reminded us, ambivalence is present in all of us. Categorising opinions and situations in a binary matter (e.g. left-right, democracy-authoritarian, facts-conspiracy theories) is not accurate nor is it helpful. It’s not accurate because, in reality, those experiences move on a multi-dimensional spectrum. There is no such thing as a “perfect democracy” or a globally accepted definition of populism, only spectrums. In addition, we change our minds and discourses depending on the evidence presented to us. Therefore, we should refrain from labelling individuals and groups, which often have exclusionary effects and deepen societal divisions. Labels and concepts are ways of reducing complexity, so that we can make sense of it, but they do not help us deal with contemporary challenges. For that, we need to embrace complexity.

We should refrain from labelling individuals and groups, which often have exclusionary effects and deepen societal divisions.

Second, targeting the amplifiers of polarisation (populism, online platforms, etc.) does not mean tackling its root causes. It certainly helps alleviating it, but it does not address the underlying structural factors which lead to its existence in the first place. We all know what they are: social inequality and injustice, ineffective means of democratic participation, US-led capitalism, climate change, … There is not one single cause, in fact, but a multiplicity of interdependent causal mechanisms which lead some societies to polarise, or even radicalise. Reality cannot always be explained by simple concepts and it certainly cannot be changed with simple policies. To tackle complex challenges, we must embrace their intricacy and seek to address them in a holistic manner.

Complexity theory, network theory, and global governance (among others) are frameworks which can help us better understand the inter-connectedness of problematic phenomena such as polarisation. We ought to give ourselves the time and chance to fully understand those complex problems as we design effective solutions and policy responses.

Conclusion

This article has reflected on my latest training as part of the Europaeum Scholars Programme. I discussed key lessons about negotiation, democratisation, and polarisation. I emphasise that negotiations are more about setting the context of bargaining than bargaining itself, and that expanding the terms of agreement can often lead to better outcomes. I also argue that the EU needs to become a learner rather than a teacher when it comes to democracy, and that democratising opaque decision-making processes can increase support and legitimacy. Finally, I discuss the complexity of polarisation and argues that it cannot be explained or addressed with simple concepts or policies. I suggest embracing intricacy to better understand and address these complex problems. Overall, my reflections have implications for the future of global society in highlighting the need for more nuanced and collaborative approaches to negotiation, democratisation, and polarisation.

This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 17 April 2023.

Read more about the author here.

In preparation of my speech, I took the following notes and thought of sharing them with a wider audience interested in International Relations and Diplomacy. I argue that inter-disciplinarity, cross-fertilisation, and holistic approaches should not be seen as a potential path for progress but as an indisputable way forward — assuming scholars truly want to make sense of the world’s complexity with social justice in mind.

The ICT Revolution

The ICT (Information and Communication Technology) revolution refers to the transformative changes brought about by advanced technologies. Think of telephone lines, satellites, computers, and artificial intelligence. It has transformed the way we communicate, access information, and conduct business, and has had a profound impact on almost every aspect of modern life, including International Relations and Diplomacy.

Agency Shifts

• growing role of the public, empowered by more accessible information, which increases the relevance of public diplomacy as opposed to elite-driven diplomacy.

• growing role of private actors and civil society, who shape the way ICT is used and develop, thereby affecting the conduct of diplomacy but also becoming diplomatic actors themselves.

• changing role of the state, which becomes one political actor among many other agents affecting global politics and is forced to adapt its communication and branding due to increased competition for attention.

• changing role of individuals, who connect across borders and may access information from very different echo-chambers.

“Leaders, states, governments and a variety of organisations increasingly use social media to project their influence beyond borders, enabling them to reach and manage domestic and global publics (Duncombe 2019; Wright 2019; Aggestam and Hedling 2020). Digital diplomacy, moreover, has changed the ways in which states manage their nation brands and this has amplified the reach and role of public diplomacy in global politics (Manor 2019). The Internet has developed from a place of technological enthusiasm and democratic potential, to a space in which states strategically project, contain and contest national narratives as well as promoting new global policy initiatives (Bjola and Pamment 2016; Bos & Melissen 2019).” 
— in “Feminist digital diplomacy and foreign policy change in Sweden” by Aggestam et al., 2021, p. 314-315.

Structural shifts

• ascent of a self-undermining, US-led liberal information order where private actors lead the governance of digital communications (think of tech giants such as Meta, Alphabet and Twitter) and profit off of business models that clash with democratic principles and ultimately benefit illiberal states.

• growing impact of algorithms and “weapons of math destruction” along the rise of AI — in many industries such as communications and finance but also education and healthcare — which rely on mathematical models can structurally reinforce existing biases and inequalities.

• rise of a global public sphere alongside national public sphere, which however is managed very differently — whilst there is often a central authority or a system of checks and balances at the national level, the global level lacks effective mechanisms to ensure that a diversity of interests are equally represented. Tech giants are invited(not forced) to conduct their business in a way that promotes a peaceful and sustainable future.

• as a result, we see a reinforcement of an interdependent multiplex global order with co-existing competing visions of how global politics should be conducted, otherwise understood as “strategic narratives”.

Insights from International Relations Theory

Which discipline, which theory can help us better understand these developments? Is it International Relations? Is it Diplomatic Studies? Public Diplomacy? These are the questions that many scholars are probably asking, but what I am actually wondering is:

Why are we so obsessed with defining limited fields of studies when science shows us that diversity and inter-disciplinarity are the most promising ways of progressing?

In Rebel Ideas, Matthew Syed demonstrates the power of diversity and cognitive friction in driving innovation and progress. The book argues that by embracing differences in perspectives and experiences, individuals and organizations can challenge their assumptions and find new solutions to complex problems.

It seems to me that IR scholars sometimes lose track of the most fundamental objective of science, which is to continuously expand knowledge, not to defend one’s point of view or field of study as being ‘superior’. Philosopher Allan Watts aptly put it, in The Wisdom of Insecurity, that “The true splendour of science is not so much that it names and classifies, records and predicts, but that it observes and desires to know the facts, whatever they may turn out to be.”

To better understand complex challenges, such as the ever-changing milieu where diplomacy and international relations operate, research has to be inter-disciplinary. No discipline alone can offer a picture accurate enough and thus a solution effective enough to the real-world problem we face, such as climate change social inequality. Cross-fertilisation between International Relations and Diplomatic Studies is therefore an obvious pathway, in my view.

Among IR theories, here are two frameworks which I find helpful to understand the increasing complexity of international relationships, because of their capacity to reflect both globality and individuality:

Foreign Policy Analysis

Foreign Policy Analysis (FPA) seeks to understand how states and other actors make decisions about foreign policy. It examines the factors that shape decision-making process. FPA also analyses the impact of foreign policy decisions on global politics and the interactions between states and other actors in the international system. 

• actor-focused: change results from human decisions (individual or in group).

• interplay of domestic and international factors and developments.

“A renewed emphasis on actor-specific theory will allow IR to more fully reclaim its ability to manifest human agency, with its attendant change, creativity, accountability, and meaning.” — Valerie Hudson, 2005

English School

The English School focuses on shared norms, practices, and institutions, such as international law and diplomacy. The English School argues that these norms are crucial for maintaining international stability, promoting cooperation, and evolving the dynamics of international society over time.

• international system (power politics among states in anarchy)

• international society (like-minded states share institutions)

• world society (global societal identities and arrangements).

“The ultimate units of the great society of all mankind are not states … but individual human beings” — Hedley Bull, 1977, p. 21

But that’s not all. Many more theories and disciplines can help us make sense of the increasing complexity of the international order:

• Media and Communication Studies (techniques: strategic narratives, information disorder)

• Computer Science (methods: regulation of technology, algorithmic amplification)

• Security Studies (ontological security, reputational security)

• Psychology (identity politics, populism, psychotraumatology)

• Sociology (ignorance studies, assessment of information)

• Economics and finance (capital flows)

• Physics (entropy, complex systems)

• …

Modern theories and ideas such as these have been criticised among classical IR scholars because they contradict long-standing ideas about agency and balance of power (e.g. states as main unit of analysis, liberal order) which sustain a certain systems that benefits and protects them. It’s understandable. New ideas threaten their ontological security. However, at the core of realism and liberalism is a positivist, US-centred vision of world order, one that treats social science like physical science, omitting the changing role of agency in the former. That view is not only outdated, it is toxic because it hampers progress in global governance and social justice.

Implications for International Relations and Diplomacy

Sharp (2009, p. 84) defines diplomacy as a relationship between groups that perceive to be separate from one another. Bjola (2012) proposes to think about diplomacy as a method of managing relations of enmity and friendship in world politics. In other words, it’s “us vs. them”, “we and the other”. That’s the problem, seeing our political and geographical existence as separate instead of connected or whole. It is a missed opportunity both from a theoretical and practical perspective.

From a theoretical point of view, concepts such as “polycentrism” (Scholte, 2004), “ordered chaos” (Koinova et al., 2021), “demoï-cracy” (Nicolaïdis, 2012), and “cosmocracy” (Keane, 2002) can help us understand diversity, differences, and decentralisation not as a problem to be resolved but as a complexity to embrace.

There are lessons to draw for the study and practice of diplomacy, as exemplified by the notions of “holistic public diplomacy” (Melissen, 2011) bridging foreign and domestic publics and of “collaborative public diplomacy” where diplomatic engagement is part of a broader collaboration with other actors prioritising “meaningful connections to others” (Melissen, 2011, p. 22).

From a practical point of view, if any of you have ever been curious about couple therapy you would be familiar with the idea of changing the narrative from “you vs. me” to “us vs. the problem”. Shifting the narrative from one actor against another to all actors against a problem is more effective and leads to less conflict. It’s incredibly powerful in interpersonal relations, and so can it be in diplomacy and ultimately international and global relationships.

Conclusion

In conclusion, given the agency and structural shifts induced by the ICT Revolution, only inter-disciplinary and holistic research approaches will help us make more sense of the increasingly complex worlds of International Relations and Diplomacy. It should not be regarded as an option, but as a natural pathway towards progress.

This article was first published on www.sophiepomme.com on 9 April 2023.