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Part 3 - Mixed Worlds: Agility Meets Ability

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  28 December 2017

Peter J. Katzenstein
Affiliation:
Cornell University, New York
Lucia A. Seybert
Affiliation:
American University, Washington DC

Summary

Type
Chapter
Information
Protean Power
Exploring the Uncertain and Unexpected in World Politics
, pp. 145 - 226
Publisher: Cambridge University Press
Print publication year: 2018
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BYCreative Common License - NC
This content is Open Access and distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence CC-BY-NC 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/cclicenses/

7 Firms in Firmament: Hydrocarbons and the Circulation of Power

Rawi Abdelal Footnote 1

I can add colours to the chameleon,

      Change shapes with Proteus for advantages,

      And set the murderous Machiavel to school.

Richard III, William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part Three, III.ii

Power inheres in the markets for hydrocarbons: natural gas and oil. The extraction, transit, sale, and price of hydrocarbons all create geopolitical moments in which agents may exercise control over one another or create new modes of interaction.

Firms extract hydrocarbons from beneath us. Some of these firms are minuscule beasts, privately owned with a handful of technicians and a drilling rig or two. Others are leviathans that employ hundreds of thousands and have varied owners that often include states. The vast majority of these large firms do business across national borders. When they produce outside their home nations, firms rely on institutional environments and often complex contractual arrangements designed to manage their calculable risks of cost and price. Firms that produce at home and sell abroad face symmetrical risks. Governments are ever-present in these markets. Are the firms the masters of the governments, or is it the other way around? Such is a common, but ultimately unanswerable, question.

Governments covet the gas and oil that rest untapped beneath the territories and waters of other nations. That covetousness always results in politicking over the pipelines and shipping lanes through which hydrocarbons are supplied; and sometimes it leads to war. Control over routes can be used to coerce, though it is more often a tool of influence, the subtle reshaping of domestic coalitions and national policy preferences.Footnote 2 Whose power is greater: the government that controls the supply or that which controls the transit? Thus is posed another hopeless question about hydrocarbons and power.

The price of the hydrocarbons affects very nearly everyone. Oil is traded on markets that are essentially global. Already liquid, and thus easy to move from where it is buried to where it is burned, oil is a commodity that comes close to having a single world price. With the notable exceptions of financial market expectations and radical uncertainty about geopolitical supply disruptions, the price of oil results primarily from the intersection of supply and demand. Only a few firms are capable of influencing the price of oil by restricting or expanding supply when they cooperate within the context of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC). One firm, the Saudi Arabian Oil Company, commonly known as Aramco, has sometimes done so on its own.

The price of natural gas is another matter altogether. Naturally occurring in a gaseous state, and expensive to liquefy, natural gas is sold on markets that are local, regional, and global. In the densely pipelined United States, gas is traded on spot prices. So it is in a few gas trading hubs around the world. Liquefied gas can, like oil, travel by ship to the highest bidder. For the most part, however, gas travels from source to consumer through a pipeline that allows for no diversion; the prices for piped gas have generally been determined by complex formulae agreed upon by suppliers and consumers. Until recently those formulae relied extensively on the oil price as the most important reference in an index. Supply shocks – such as the US unconventional oil and gas revolution – and demand shocks – like the pan-European recession and the slowdown of Chinese growth – both influence price. There is, to be sure, power in those prices. Whose is it? Over whom? And to do what? The simpler questions obscure the differences between multiple forms of power that interact.

In this chapter I explore the character of protean and control power in hydrocarbon markets. I first describe the relationships among firms, among states, and between firms and states as constitutive of what we ultimately interpret as markets. In these relationships we find both protean and control power. Then, I narrate briefly four cases that illuminate the effects of protean and control power in hydrocarbon markets: the European–Russian gas relationship over several decades; the geopolitical consequences of the US unconventional revolution; the Sino-Russian energy rapprochement; and the effects on Russia of the sudden, rapid, unintended, largely unanticipated decline in the price of oil amidst the Ukrainian geopolitical crisis. I conclude with some reflections on the paradox that the particularities of natural gas markets render them ostensibly susceptible to control power, whereas in fact protean power is their defining feature.

The Circulation of Power in Hydrocarbon Markets

The participants in hydrocarbon markets experience, promulgate, deploy, and embody power, both dominating and shape-changing. Seybert and Katzenstein (Chapter 1, p. 16) distinguish between two different instantiations of power: between the possibility to “exercise ‘power over’ (understood here as actual capability) the human or non-human world …,” and the fact of being “empowered to have ‘power to’ (understood here as the capacity to actualize potentialities) navigate in that world successfully.” Many scholars and practitioners recognize control power in hydrocarbon markets, but the most interesting, consequential outcomes and practices result from the interaction of control and protean power. Power circulates across these ways of being, of seeing, and of doing.

The interplay of these forms of power defines the relationships among states and firms, the transit of hydrocarbon supply to its demand, and the formation of prices. As is true of finance (Chapter 8), hydrocarbon markets comprise moments of probabilistic risk and both radical and operational uncertainty. Firms generally try to write contracts to manage the risks that they estimate. When faced with uncertainty, however, those same firms rely on the depth of their relationships, on trust and habits of thought, and on improvisation to reshape the institutional contexts within which they manage.Footnote 3 Technological change in the industry may sometimes seem endogenous, but in fact such change results largely from firms taking seemingly calculated risks that collectively create uncertainty about supply and price. Risk-based behavior leads to systemic uncertainty and unpredictability. Thus, these markets are characterized by elements of both risk and uncertainty. And firms experience both the riskiness and uncertainty as they alternately acquiesce or refuse, improvise or innovate.

Firms and States

The scholarly literature on political economy is composed in part of several enduring debates about the balance between public and private power. In comparative political economy, scholars have interrogated the influence of firms on states. Although political lobbying and regulatory capture are phenomena that describe the intentionality of firms, some scholars have identified ways in which the control of firms over political outcomes is pervasive in practice and inherent to the structure of modern capitalist systems. Thus, the structural power of business might rest upon automatic processes in addition to intentionality.Footnote 4

For scholars of international political economy, systemic questions have been preoccupying. Cross-border markets for, say, capital are thought by some to have transcended the authority of nation-states, though others insist that states retain both autonomy from and influence over such markets.Footnote 5 Multinational firms might have become more powerful than the governments that created the very possibility of their incorporation, or perhaps instead the states are still masters of the firms.Footnote 6

The implicit and explicit understandings of power that inform these enduring debates have allowed scholars to answer some important questions about the power of one set of agents over another at different moments in varied contexts. The idea of control power is the very basis for the questions that have been asked: power over; higher or lower; and so on. We find those who dominate and others who acquiesce and submit. Control power, in this conception, is an attribute of an agent.

Yet the power that one finds in these relationships is more mutable and multidimensional. It is not merely that the dominant and the submissive switch roles regularly depending on the moment or the issue at hand, though that is true. In fact, power is constantly being renegotiated through acts of creativity and agency. The firms and governments have interests in accomplishing or experiencing outcomes – power to do this or that thing – that often have little to do with insisting or relenting relative to one another. Protean power here is oblique: it is about the effects of unanticipated innovations by agents, innovations that disrupt the practices of control power and unsettle agents’ understanding of risk and uncertainty. An understanding of protean power uncovers heretofore obscured elements of the relationships between firms and states in hydrocarbon markets.

Firms also have relationships with one another – relationships of great political consequence and considerable variability.Footnote 7 These relationships are, however, almost completely absent from the scholarly literatures on comparative and international political economy. Power circulates among firms as well in a system that is intertwined with the system of states. The managers of energy firms would not recognize the power dynamics between them as involving or implicating control only. For the firms, power is also protean. Basically, they cannot do without one another, and the formal and informal elements of their relationships are in a state of constant renegotiation. Protean power is the effect of firms’ improvisation and innovation as circumstances – and their relationships – evolve in unpredictable, often unknowable, ways.

In these relationships between and among states and firms we find many moments of improvisation. Both the private and public agents – executives and policymakers – tend to believe about the other that there exists a plan with calculable probabilities. But what they believe about themselves is usually the reverse: that they are all at sea, and that their successes are based more on adaptability than foresight. Machiavelli’s arguments about fortuna and virtù reflect these intuitions. If fortuna is responsible for half of our actions, then we are left only the other half. And virtù defines our ability to improvise and adapt.Footnote 8 Machiavelli himself understood power as protean – chameleon-coloring, shape-changing, improvisational – even if Shakespeare’s “Machiavel” in Henry VI was supposed to be outdone by Richard III. As the political theorist Richard Clegg astutely observes, for Machiavelli any inquiry into power is necessarily ethnographic. Power, in Machiavelli’s analysis, is an effect: it is tenuously produced and reproduced as a result of the competencies of agents, rather than merely as a resource that inheres in them. Power is thus to be revealed in the networking of relations among agents.Footnote 9

Whereas risk requires an understanding of probability and decision-making, uncertainty creates, in contrast, a premium on judgment. At the highest levels, executives and policymakers know that technique will bring them only so far. Models and forecasts bring them to the moment when judgment must be exercised, where empathy and intuition must be employed. At that moment, a sense of history, a coherent worldview, and the competence of recognizing patterns are critical. The micro-foundation of this theory of practice is an agency attenuated by an environment of dense, intertwining relationships, as Chris Reus-Smit also shows in the case of human rights (Chapter 3). These agents know that they do not know what they do not know about their environment; they recognize the elements of uncertainty that persist and recur in their market environments. They plan with a language of scenarios of possible futures, rather than of prediction and calculation. Good judgment – coupled with a sense of timing – is not a resource, but a practice.

Thus, the relationships that are the essence of any market are, like all relationships, in a state of constant renegotiation. Nothing ever gets settled once-and-for all. No one always wins, and no one loses forever. The moments of Veni, vidi, vici are passing fantasy. Instead, Luctor et emergo: I struggle and emerge. Or, perhaps even more accurately: We struggle and emerge.

A holistic understanding of hydrocarbon markets – and of the circulation of power among firms and states – offers insight into flows of capital. Regardless of the ownership structures of firms in hydrocarbon-exporting nations, their governments rely on receipts in the forms of corporate income, dividends, and tax receipts. The firms and governments of hydrocarbon-importing nations depend on the flows of energy resources to generate the power that underpins output growth. Leaders of exporting nations express concern over the security of demand for their resources, demand that is essential for the fiscal health of the state. In importing nations, however, the security of supply – usually called energy security as shorthand – is the greater risk.

Supply and Transit

Thus is the transit of energy resources the vasculature of hydrocarbon markets. The vast majority of the world’s oil is transported by ship. A small, but growing share of the world’s natural gas is liquefied and shipped in the same way. Exporters and importers rely therefore on the openness and safety of the world’s sea lanes, sometimes called the sea lines of communication. Once under the control of the British, the sea lanes are now maintained largely by the US Navy – a form of control power based on the management of risk. The US government has used its naval predominance to restrict the supply of hydrocarbons to adversaries during war – a practice that reached the height of its effectiveness during the Second World War when Japan was deprived of oil.Footnote 10

The US approach to energy markets and energy security informs the nation’s approach to military power. The United States has traditionally not, for example, purchased a significant proportion of its imported oil from the hydrocarbon-rich states of the Persian Gulf. So its military presence in the region, often mistakenly attributed to its direct interest in oil, derives in part from the US interest in the continued flow of oil onto the world’s markets.

The United States similarly does not rely on all of these sea lanes for the transit of its own oil imports. So the US blue-water naval presence has not tended to protect directly its own supply. Instead, the United States seeks to maintain sea lanes because of a long-held, poorly defined, but preference-revealed approach to energy security. For US practice, energy security is maintained by the liquidity of global markets, on which importers may buy as much as they wish at whatever price happens to prevail.

The Japanese wartime and global postwar lessons are apparent to Chinese policymakers. In the long run, the Chinese government expects its own blue-water navy to challenge US predominance, at least in Asia. For now, however, some 80 percent of Chinese oil imports transit the Straits of Malacca, which are controlled largely by the US Navy and, otherwise, by pirates. Chinese energy firms have, with the strong encouragement of the military establishment, purchased equity stakes in oil fields around the world, including in Africa.Footnote 11 This improvisation is to ensure the nation’s access to hydrocarbon resources, though whether such a tactic would provide insurance in the case of an all-out naval blockade is doubtful.

The transit of natural gas is far more intimate, for the pipelines cross the territories – and occasionally territorial waters – of sovereign states. The oil politics are largely global; the gas politics are local. Transit states are the middlemen in these producer–consumer relationships: the delivery services essential to the commerce of natural gas. Transit states are always themselves consumers of natural gas, and occasionally they provide their services in exchange for the gas supplies they require. Much more often, however, transit states provide delivery for a fee and pay cash for the gas they consume – the prices for both are subject to negotiation. While in transit, the gas is owned, if not controlled, by the seller. Such an arrangement, as in the varying routes taken by illegal migrants, creates opportunities for fascinating struggles of money, influence, and security (Chapter 5).

Price

Oil has a single price.Footnote 12 That price metaphorically pulls the oil from the ground. A high price pulls more; a lower price implies a softer tug. Yes, there are financial market participants who speculate on future prices and thus affect them moment by moment. Overall, though, the oil markets deliver to us a wonderfully simple formula: supply and demand. The demand is not under the control of anyone in particular. The supply, on the other hand, is in the hands of only a few. The challenge of coordinating supply changes, however, has most often proved to be a collective action problem beyond the capabilities of an old, yet still inchoate organization.Footnote 13 And supply and demand move in an uneven rhythm of time, since high oil prices invite capital investment that may take several years to come to fruition, by which time the price may have declined just at a moment of burgeoning supply.

Natural gas has, in contrast, a great many prices. One prevails in the liquid, but self-contained, market of North America. Still another, higher price emerges from the fragmented market of Europe. The Asians pay the most. The markets thus are regionalized. Whereas oil is pulled, gas is pushed and relationship-laden.

Consumers of imported gas do not receive the price they deserve; they receive the price they negotiate. Industry practice for fifty or so years was to use the price of oil as the starting point for negotiating the formula for the price of piped gas. In part, this was done to ensure that gas would remain competitive with fuel oil, its closest substitute as gas-powered electricity generation became widespread.

The more important reason for the practice, however, was that gas markets were not very market-like. That is, a natural gas contract commonly involved bringing the molecules from a starting point in an exporting nation through a pipe to an ending point in an importing nation; the pipeline did not serve other nations, and gas could not somehow travel elsewhere. The gas either entered the pipe destined for a single destination, or it did not. So: a market with perhaps only two participants.

And from what might a price emerge in a market with only a monopolist and a monopsonist? Either the monopolist and monopsonist could abuse one another during each passing moment of bargaining position. Or, as it turns out, the two parties could agree to avoid any such thing by settling instead on the price of something else, which itself is formed through the daily interactions of thousands of buyers and dozens of sellers.

So the prices of natural gas would vary with the price of oil, with further influence from the density of pipeline networks and the relationships between the firms that transacted with one another. As more and more pipelines were built, and balancing markets for a few billion cubic meters here or there evolved into more liquid trading hubs, over just the last few years the markets for natural gas have begun to incorporate the spot prices for gas into formulae at the expense of the long-standing practice of the oil index.

The transition from oil to spot-price indexation has introduced some of the simpler dynamics of oil prices, in which exporters may influence price through unilateral or coordinated adjustments in supply.Footnote 14 And this transition itself introduced an era of intense, complex negotiation over the composition of the formulae for gas price formation. Firms have created new practices and contract structures in ways that affect both their influence over one another and the fortunes and fates of the nations in which they are based.

Stories

Four stories reveal the interplay of control and protean power in the markets for hydrocarbons.

Gas, Red

First is the story of how a handful of European firms went to Moscow at the height of the Cold War to negotiate one of the most historically significant – and fateful – natural gas deals of the last century with the Soviet gas ministry.Footnote 15 US policymakers opposed the European–Soviet gas relationship then and in the decades that followed for fear of Soviet manipulation of and coziness with European allies. US control power was employed – unsuccessfully – to undermine or thwart the deal.Footnote 16

Yet the relationship flourished. Soviet and European managers came over time to trust one another. As the Soviet Union collapsed, all of these agents were obliged to recast their relationships with one another. The Soviet gas ministry evolved into the Russian firm Gazprom. The pipeline route that had once spanned a single Soviet state and a handful of Warsaw Pact nations on its way to European markets was transformed into a complex maze of pipelines that crossed multiple sovereign territories.Footnote 17 Possibilities for the exercise of control power were ever-present and almost never undertaken.

A newly post-Soviet Ukraine emerged as the most important supplier to Gazprom: of the transit of gas, with some 80–90 percent of Russian gas contracted to European customers traversing its borders. Building on decades worth of trust, European firms continued to do business with Gazprom, which was left with the problem of managing its new relationship with Naftogaz Ukrainy, the firm responsible for the Ukrainian pipeline infrastructure.

Even as gas crises flared in 2006 and 2009, European firms continued to believe that Gazprom was a reliable partner.Footnote 18 Operational uncertainty over the sources of the supply disruptions required firms to interpret and ultimately judge competing narratives. The gas crises resulted from contractual disputes between Gazprom and Naftogaz Ukrainy. The most contentious issues were the fees Naftogaz would charge Gazprom for transit and the price Gazprom would charge Naftogaz for the gas volumes Ukraine consumed. For much of the 1990s, the transit fees and gas prices were contractually linked: each was below the rates that prevailed in western Europe. The value of the transit discount enjoyed by Gazprom was worth much less than the gas discount Naftogaz received.

During spring 2005, some months after the Orange Revolution of late autumn/early winter 2004 brought a pro-Western regime to Kiev, Naftogaz and Gazprom undertook a new round of their yearly negotiations.Footnote 19 (Their contracts concluded on 1 January of each new year.) Naftogaz proposed that Gazprom pay for transit at rates comparable to those in the West. Gazprom responded that Naftogaz should also then pay gas prices that prevailed elsewhere, thus bringing to an end the discounts that each had offered the other. Naftogaz refused, for Ukraine could ill afford the higher price for the significant volumes the nation consumed. Having reached a stalemate in the negotiations, 10.00AM on January 1, 2006 found Naftogaz and Gazprom out of contract.

As Gazprom compressed and shipped the amount of gas for which its European customers had paid, it also cut the shipment of gas intended for Ukraine’s consumption. Not all of the Europe-bound gas made it through the Ukrainian pipeline. Naftogaz accused Gazprom of exercising crude control power as putative punishment for the nation’s Western geopolitical ambitions. Gazprom accused Naftogaz of theft and argued that Ukraine would not be shipped gas until a new contract were signed. Naftogaz, Gazprom suggested, was also exercising control power in the form of extortion, by taking advantage of the nation’s near-monopoly of transit.

A similar contractual dispute during spring and autumn 2008 led to an even more dramatic breakdown of the Naftogaz–Gazprom relationship in January 2009. Gazprom’s European customers were left with an interpretive puzzle. They could have decided that Ukrainian transit was untrustworthy, that Russian supply was undependable, or that persistent discord between Russia and Ukraine rendered the ascription of guilt moot.

Such was their trust in Russian supply that the solution of the major European energy firms to the problem of Ukrainian transit was to disintermediate Ukraine with new pipelines.Footnote 20 The most important of these was the Nord Stream pipeline, a major innovation to the existing system. Long touted by both European and Russian executives as a solution to potential supply disruptions by contentious transit negotiations, the northern pipeline route was pushed along toward completion by the gas crises. Although US policymakers were disappointed, and central European policymakers were downright alarmed, the northern route reshaped the geopolitics of the region.Footnote 21 A new proposed route to Ukraine’s south, the South Stream pipeline, would, if it had come to fruition, almost fully disintermediated Ukraine. Both Nord Stream and South Stream were joint European–Russian projects. The Nord Stream consortium comprised Gazprom, E.ON, BASF, Gasunie, and, eventually, GDF SUEZ. The South Stream consortium was composed of Gazprom, ENI, and Électricité de France. Ukraine was left in the cold.

In the complex relationship between Gazprom, Naftogaz Ukrainy, and European energy companies, many US policymakers and scholars saw only control power. Either Russia was punishing Ukraine, or Ukraine was extorting Russia, or Russia was threatening Europe. A much more subtle protean power was, however, evident. Rather than a desperate Ukraine and a gas-hungry, dependent Europe, Russian and European energy executives recognized their mutual dependence, the geopolitical and contractual uncertainties of the Ukrainian transit route, and their joint innovative potential to reshape the transit of gas. In the language of this volume, this innovation was a response to a thoroughgoing uncertainty that, so it seemed, demanded more of them than mere improvisation.Footnote 22

The story was thus not primarily one of an agent’s exercise of power over another. Instead, multiple agents, which in some ways were constituted by their relationships among one another, creatively found ways to manage their production and consumption dealings – an iterative, protean power that resulted from the underlying uncertainty of the context and the agents’ experience of that uncertainty. The result came largely at Ukraine’s geopolitical and commercial expense, but even in the Russian–Ukrainian relationship the control power of each over the other failed miserably to deliver any outcome either desired. Russia failed to pull Ukraine decisively toward Eurasia; Ukraine’s monopsony gambit failed disastrously. The innovation for which Ukrainian leaders had hoped became merely refusal; Russian leaders’ efforts toward Ukrainian acquiescence brought frustration and disappointment. Both sides discovered that when control power failed them, the ground beneath them nevertheless shifted enough to create a landscape that was unfamiliar and undesirable to each.

Gas, Red, White, and Blue

American exceptionalism is mostly mythological, except for the unconventional hydrocarbon revolution. That revolution has been and will likely remain an exception in its scale and influence. In just the last few years the United States has become one of the largest oil and natural gas producers in the world. The prospect of hydrocarbon self-sufficiency may fundamentally alter patterns of geopolitics, and in a number of ways the unconventional revolution has already done so.

The unconventional revolution was not, however, the result of conscious US policy. The mix of agents, norms, and institutions was exquisitely American. Partly it is a simple story of discontinuous technological change. American firms had known for decades that bountiful natural gas supplies lay within shale rock formations. There was little point in counting up those billions of cubic meters, for no one could really get to them – not until a handful of small firms pioneered the combination of using water to fracture (to frack, that is) the shale and horizontal drilling to extract the gas and, later, oil. The technology was not so fancy. True, the crews with the knowledge and experience to operate the drilling rigs were in desperately short supply. There were not even enough rigs to go around the United States, much less the world. Those remained manageable challenges in the medium run for any nation.

What could not be easily replicated, however, was the peculiar combination of features that defined the US revolution, including the hundreds of small, entrepreneurial energy firms willing to take bet-the-company decisions repeatedly; the vast expanses of sparsely populated territory under which many of the largest shale gas deposits sit; a dense, capacious pipeline network that can bring the gas practically anywhere within the country’s borders; and a societal willingness to drill hundreds of thousands of holes (the activity is much more drilling-intensive than conventional oil and gas development) in the earth’s crust to get at the resources. Another important institutional arrangement is the subsoil property rights regime, within which, for example, a farmer whose land sits atop shale reserves can sell or lease drilling rights thousands of meters beneath the earth. And, finally, a permissive regulatory environment that has largely required opponents of hydraulic fracturing to prove its dangers, rather than the other way around, as in Europe, where many citizens are mystified that the fracturers did not have first to prove the safety of the practice before regulators allowed it.

The irony is particularly acute for the US government, which tried and failed for forty years to achieve energy independence with a series of ill-fated public policy schemes based on control power. The government sought to exercise control power over its energy market by allowing more drilling for resources, drilling for resources in precarious habitats, subsidizing renewables, and promoting efficiency and conservation. Yet it was innovation in the face of uncertainty, largely uncoordinated, and accomplished by small, under-capitalized firms ignored by the majors that in the end delivered energy self-sufficiency to the United States.

The oil from the unconventional revolution made its way onto global markets and affected their overall supply. Still, US firms are profitable, depending on the basin, only at prices of $45–60 per barrel, and they faced their own uncertain future as oil prices plummeted during 2014 and 2015.

In order to make its way onto world markets, however, US unconventional gas would first need to be liquefied, and then, as with oil, a firm must apply for and receive a license to export. A few licenses have been granted, and some liquefaction facilities are in construction. Thus far, only a few cubic meters of liquefied natural gas have left the shores of the United States, yet the consequences for natural gas markets have already been felt around the world.

Plummeting US natural gas prices and abundant domestic supply led to the diversion of theretofore anticipated liquefied gas deliveries to elsewhere in the world. A collapse in US coal prices led to the export of incredibly inexpensive coal. Combined with a pan-European recession and new liquid gas trading hubs, European energy firms in particular found themselves paying – for the first time – higher prices for piped gas than for spot-market or liquefied gas.Footnote 23

This created a new era of operational uncertainty for both European firms and their suppliers, Gazprom in particular. Would the United States export natural gas in significant quantities? For how long would spot prices stay below oil-indexed prices? Before the recent declines in the price of oil, oil-indexed gas had become relatively expensive.

Europeans proposed two major improvised revisions in their contract structures with major pipeline-gas suppliers. The first was to index the price of piped gas to the spot prices of natural gas, rather than the spot prices of fuel oil. The second was to reduce the role of the so-called take-or-pay clause. With take-or-pay, the customer commits many years in advance to purchase minimum annual quantities of gas: the firm can buy more than that commitment, but not less. This clause provided a kind of security to the customer, since the commitment was bilateral: the producer also was obliged to sell at least that much to its customer at the price delivered by the index, even if, at that moment, there might be a better price to be found elsewhere. There was also security of demand for the producer, since the exporting firm could count on a predictable stream of revenues.

Exercising their leverage over Gazprom, and out of desperation, European firms managed to undertake several years of renegotiation with suppliers. Another energy crisis thereby revealed the protean nature of power in these hydrocarbon markets. The firms were not engaged in risk-based, arm’s-length contract negotiations in which their knowledge and power delivered an outcome. Instead, all the parties were at sea, unsure of how difficult the market environment would become for either of them, yet still embedded in decades-long relationships. Those renegotiations temporarily saved the balance sheets of the European firms at the expense of those of the suppliers. Gazprom, thoroughly dependent on the European market for most of its revenues and essentially all of its profits, suffered most of all from the new contract structures.

One consequence, however, of the arrangement was that the new contract provisions provided little incentive for Gazprom to continue to build pipeline infrastructure to Europe. A contractual arrangement in which European firms offered to purchase whatever amount of gas they needed at whatever price happened to prevail pushed the responsibility for infrastructure development away from Gazprom, which would not be able to rely on a stream of well-understood, if still variable, revenues. Without such a revenue stream, Gazprom and its European partners might not be able even to find financial backing for the project from the banks that usually undertake project finance.

Gazprom’s response was, in part, the cancellation of its South Stream pipeline project, which had been a joint Italian–Russian plan to bring gas across the Black Sea. Instead, a joint Turkish–Russian project, Turkish Stream, became Gazprom’s preferred route for bringing its gas to a growing Turkish market and near enough to Greece so that the Europeans, at the presumably inevitable end of their macro-economic crisis, might be able to build pipelines to collect it at the Turkish border.Footnote 24 Thus, the Turkish–Russian protean reorganization of the eventual supply infrastructure promised to reshape once again the dynamics of the Eurasian gas industry.

The only certainty in the short and medium term was that Europe and Russia would remain bound together by steel pipes and intimate contractual relationships. The contractual arrangements are never definitively settled. As one European energy executive observed: “A long-term contract is a good handshake: we work together for fifty years; we meet from time to time to sort out the price.”Footnote 25 Each agent is thus creatively, dialogically working through the challenges while embedded in a context of mutual intelligibility but systemic uncertainty. For now, European firms have achieved the contract structures that enhance their viability, while Gazprom began to search for a creative solution to the unpleasant problem of its income statement. Gazprom lamented the demise of its once highly profitable Western market.

A Sino-Russian Rapprochement

At this point Gazprom turned wishfully toward the East. In May 2014, after more than a decade of on-again-off-again negotiations, Gazprom and the Chinese National Petroleum Company (CNPC) finally reached an agreement for gas-rich Russia to supply gas-poor China.Footnote 26 The details of the deal are not public, and speculation about the realized price of the gas is rampant. After the uncertainty over the possibility of any deal between the two companies, a wholly surprising chain of events made the improbable finally conceivable. The road to the deal had followed a circuitous path from the supply-and-demand shocks of the 2000s.

The most plausible interpretation of the deal is that Gazprom’s desperation in the wake of a European market that had deteriorated for an uncertain, if not indefinite, period of time, pushed the Russians toward accepting a deal. Most likely, the Chinese government had by that point also realized that the prospects of its own unconventional gas revolution were in the short term slim, though uncertainty lingered. Without the pipeline infrastructure to bring the Chinese shale gas to the population centers where it was needed, and without the water that was necessary for the hydraulic fracturing of the shale, Chinese energy firms would have to import gas until enough capital could be spent to create the network of steel or the technology evolved to become less water-intensive.

The Russian government portrayed this deal as part of a broader pivot away from Europe and the West toward Asia. The Russians narrated the adventure as a new era in Russian–Chinese relations and perhaps even a new strategic partnership. This coincided with a variety of Eurasianisms in Russian political thought that lent ideological legitimacy to a Russia that was as much a part of dynamic Asia as it was a part of the lovely museum of Europe.Footnote 27 The Chinese, however, viewed Russia as a junior partner at best.Footnote 28

The post-Ukrainian crisis sanctions regime may not have undermined Russia’s commitment to the geopolitical organization of its near abroad, but without infusions of vital technology from the West the ability of Russian firms to honor existing contracts with China remain questionable. Given this uncertainty, Moscow was forced to invent another creative solution to disguise the increasing asymmetry of the Sino-Russian relationship as a form of resistance to an increasingly clear fate.

Thus, Russia’s desperation as oil and gas prices plummeted led to an invitation that China take up the slack in investment. Equity was the cost. In exchange for Chinese investment in the fields that would provide gas for the eventual pipeline, CNPC, as one example, was able to acquire a 10 percent stake in Vancorneft, a subsidiary of Rosneft. Chinese firms, as well as the government itself, have committed the financial liquidity that Russian companies need desperately in light of collapsing investment and a severe recession.

The realities of Russia’s position vis-à-vis China reveal an unhappily creative reorganization of the relationship. The equity stakes being acquired by Chinese firms will undermine the profitability of the deal for Russian firms. Since China does not depend nearly as much as Europe on Russian gas, price guarantees and upstream equity stakes will likely become essential elements of future gas deals. So, too, will the pipeline routes take the paths preferred by Chinese firms. When, in October 2014, Gazprom announced the likely cancellation of a Vladivostok LNG project, a third gas pipeline to China – in addition to the already agreed Power of Siberia and Altai projects – emerged as its successor. Russian firms had preferred to diversify energy relationships throughout Asia, but instead they are finding themselves bound together more closely with the Chinese market.

The most likely scenario, then, is that Russia will emerge as a resource appendage to China. The partnership, which had once been seen as an alternative to decreasingly profitable Western relationships, is one on which China’s seniority in the arrangement requires Russian adaptation to a less attractive, but still indispensable, Asian future. Russia’s acquiescence to China’s growing leverage has come to resemble resignation.

As the Chinese economic slow-down combines with almost-unbreathable air, natural gas is likely to figure prominently in the leadership’s interest in burning less coal without altogether abandoning less expensive, but relatively clean fossil fuels. So Russia bet on economic dynamism in China and the Pacific; China bet that its nearby resource-rich, but otherwise rather sad, neighbor will help the nation reproduce a normal, Sino-centric world. They need each other, but the uncertainty about their fates has required extraordinary creativity and improvisation by both about how to proceed.

Eurasian Borderlands

The Ukrainian crisis was a long time in the making.Footnote 29 Contemporary Ukraine is composed of territories in the east that had been part of the tsarist empire for several centuries, as well as, at the other extreme, those in the west that had been part of Habsburg Galicia and interwar Poland. Soviet Ukraine’s nationalist movement emerged in Ukrainian-speaking Galicia during the 1980s, an agitation that mystified many in the Russian-speaking east. Ukrainians agreed on one basic fact: that they were Ukrainians. But they agreed on little else: not on language, or on history, or on a common geopolitical destiny.

The Putin regime had signaled with emphasis and in vain that the West, broadly conceived, was unlikely to care as much about the geopolitical fate of Ukraine as did Russian leaders. When Vladimir Putin annexed Crimea, thus undoing Nikita Khrushchev’s 1954 “gift” to the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic, US and European policymakers were left with a dilemma. Although they could not reasonably hope to dissuade Putin and were unwilling to support credibly western Ukraine’s Western dreams, they felt that they must at least signal their displeasure. The United States imposed sanctions on the Russian economy for this purpose, as did, less exuberantly and more expensively, the European Union.Footnote 30

For the Russians, the sanctions were unwelcome and irritating. The sanctions also represented for the Russian leadership the single most vexing aspect of post-Cold War international relations: namely, their sense of American hypocrisy.

At around the same time, the Russian economy experienced a serious crisis, and the ruble declined precipitously – from about 35 to 70 rubles to the dollar. American policymakers were quick to claim credit for Russia’s economic troubles, a putative result of the sanctions regime and their employment of control power. And while it is true that the sanctions were consequential, in fact the travails of the Russian economy resulted more from the coincident, precipitous decline in the price of oil. The fall in the price of oil was largely a consequence of oversupply – pulled onto the market by capital investments made when the price of oil was high – and weakening demand, particularly in China and an increasingly self-contained US energy market.Footnote 31

In this episode we find control power in a surface narrative: a Western effort to force Russia to withdraw its territorial claims on the Crimean peninsula and involvement in a bloody armed conflict on Ukraine’s eastern border. With Russia’s international relations, however, the text is almost always misleading; everything interesting is in the subtext.

Russia’s interests in Ukraine have already been largely achieved, and the endgame will likely deliver some sort of federal reorganization of the Ukrainian state. With Crimea as the ninetieth Russian region, there is no longer any risk, however remote it may have been, that the naval base at Sevastopol would be situated in a NATO or NATO-aligned nation. Ukraine’s unitary state meant that an eastward-leaning regime could effectively tilt the country toward Eurasia, while a westward-leaning one could turn in the direction of Europe. Given Ukraine’s complex institutional and linguistic history, neither definitive resolution of Ukraine’s place on the border between Europe and Eurasia would be satisfactory or politically sustainable. A federal Ukraine would be permanently unable to choose, and the non-choice leaves Ukraine not-in-Europe.

Particularly given European reluctance to enforce a comprehensive sanctions regime, the US approach was similarly revealed more by subtext. Few in Washington or Brussels, much less Berlin and Paris, could have realistically believed that sanctions would force Russia to withdraw from Crimea. Yet Western leaders were, despite their vague promises of salvation to Kiev, unwilling to risk a large confrontation with Russia over the geopolitical fate that few consider a strategic priority. Doing nothing would have displayed embarrassing weakness, so sharp words and, for the United States, reasonably costless sanctions represented a language of disapproval and resignation. The coincidence of declining oil prices – a happy one for Washington, alarming for Moscow – provides for a language of serious Western conviction that belied the innovative, subtle conversation that policymakers conducted implicitly.

Conclusions

The world’s two most important hydrocarbon markets – oil and gas – are impressively dissimilar. In the first, the molecules naturally occur in a liquid state, so oil can be piped, shipped, even trucked around the world and sold to the highest bidder. In oil markets power is intrinsically entwined with price and, to a lesser extent, the freedom and safety of transit routes used by anyone who has taken temporary or permanent ownership.

The relevant molecules of the second market naturally occur in a gaseous state. Although the gas molecules may be liquefied, shipped in a manner similar to oil, and then re-gasified upon delivery, the relative expense of that process is often prohibitive. So the gas generally remains gaseous. And for gas, it is more accurate to speak of a number of gas markets, rather than a single one. For these markets, producer and consumer are – intimately, literally – bound together, since physical pipelines carry the product of one firm based in one country – and only that country – to another firm and country. In gas markets, the risk to the importing country is not simply that the price will become untenable, but that the gas might stop flowing altogether with no ready alternative suppliers or other ways of generating electricity or heat at hand. Where gas moves in pipelines, it not only crosses borders, but it almost never avoids traversing state territory. It is therefore bound up with government interests, since it is not as regularly subject to the kind of market manipulations that influence the market for oil.

One might, reasoning from first principles, expect that gas markets – in which states and firms are physically bound to one another – control power would be primary, and protean distantly secondary. Yet this intuition is precisely wrong. Rather, in precisely the markets in which one might imagine state interests to dominate and control power to obtain, protean power is far more in evidence. Protean power has organized the response to uncertainty in the form of unforeseeable technological change, unknowable geopolitical transformations, and incalculable price fluctuations.

8 Incomplete Control: The Circulation of Power in Finance

Erin Lockwood and Stephen C. Nelson Footnote 1

Consider two views of the power of finance. From one perspective finance is in the driver’s seat. The residue of the sector’s control power can easily be glimpsed in the capture of the regulatory and lawmaking processes in the United States by the major players in the financial sector – an achievement made possible by finance’s sheer material resources and by the revolving door that brings regulators out of the government and into the sector (and sends former employees of financial firms back into the regulatory organizations).Footnote 2 An important byproduct of finance’s highly concentrated political power, in this perspective, was the construction of an incomplete and insufficient regulatory system riddled with loopholes even before the crisis of 2008 – and the production of an even more woefully inadequate regulatory system after the collapse that took the world economy into the biggest crisis in seventy years.Footnote 3

Power in finance appears much more fleeting from an alternative vantage point, however. The players in financial markets that look, to many industry outsiders, like all-powerful “masters of the universe” are in fact constantly engaged in struggles to stay afloat in complex environments rife with ambiguities and incalculable uncertainties. For an experienced market player like George Soros, radical uncertainty is an ever-present condition of modern finance and participants can never fully uncover the “hidden generators” that move market sentiments.Footnote 4

The players in sophisticated financial markets face both risk and uncertainty. The past distribution of returns in different markets can be relied upon for predictive purposes only insofar as the generating process for those returns will continue to operate into the future. Players in the markets for financial assets, subject as they are to episodic crises and innovative breakthroughs that permanently shift the means of the distributions, impose a (often illusory) sense of stability by relying on market conventions.Footnote 5 Financial markets are, in Zuckerman’s words, open rather than “closed system(s) whereby investors repeatedly encounter the same or highly similar problems of valuation … Investors must repeatedly manage the uncertainty generated by events that defy categories of existing models.”Footnote 6

The pervasiveness of uncertainty and the fleeting nature of the control power possessed by players in finance are leitmotifs in many of the recent ethnographies of financial markets produced by economic anthropologists.Footnote 7 The pressure on market players to innovate radically new strategies to beat their competitors is intense. Chong and Tuckett, based on numerous interviews in 2007 and 2011 with professional money managers in the United Kingdom, the United States, France, and Singapore, contend that players in financial markets need to be convinced about the “profitability of the uncertain opportunities for future gain they hypothesize to exist.” “Conviction narratives,” sharing similar characteristics, become the social conventions upon which managers “depend to feel committed to their beliefs and to manage dependency on the uncertain future. They can then promote themselves as skillful and survive in the industry.”Footnote 8

In contrast to conventional views focusing on which actor has more control over the other, we contend that a richer conceptualization of power – one that goes beyond simple dyadic relationships of coercion and control – is indispensable for understanding power dynamics in contemporary globalized financial markets. Like other domains explored in this volume, the financial markets that we discuss are realms of deep, “Knightian” uncertainty. Yet the institutions and conventions that serve to stabilize expectations sometimes lead market players and regulatory authorities to experience their environments as domains of measurable risk. As Lawrence Lindsey, former member of the Federal Reserve’s Board of Governors, observed about the run-up to the 2008 crisis: “we had convinced ourselves that we were in a less risky world. And how should any rational investor respond to a less risky world? They should lay on more risk.”Footnote 9

Complete control in finance, however, is illusory. Uncertainty cannot be fully eliminated and thus there is space for improvisational and innovative practices by agile actors; these practices, in turn, can generate unpredictable protean power effects.Footnote 10 In the next section, drawing on the work of Marglin and Scott, we explore how different systems of knowledge can help us to understand the conditions under which protean power-generating practices can emerge. Financial markets are realms in which there are ongoing struggles to exert control by both private and public actors (each seeking to impose greater stability and predictability on markets), but these attempts to impose control on an open system can generate unanticipated consequences, serving as an endogenous source of uncertainty within financial markets. At the same time, actors who experience markets as more radically open and uncertain than manageably risky devise innovative strategies that confound efforts to “close” systems.

For illustrations of how different configurations of power-generating practices produce unanticipated outcomes and have unpredictable consequences for actors’ power potentialities, we look at the markets for over-the-counter (OTC) credit derivatives and sovereign debt contracts. These markets are, in some important ways, a study in contrasts. Credit derivatives markets are massive, largely unregulated, highly innovative, and extraordinarily complex. By comparison the international sovereign debt market – the size of which is still in the multitrillion dollar range – is significantly smaller, less complex, and – given that governments are by definition participants in the market – more politicized. And while the markets for credit derivatives and international bonds issued by sovereigns overlap to a degree (sovereign bondholders can and do offload credit risk by entering into credit default swaps (CDS) with counterparties, paying fees to the CDS dealers who then assume the risk of default on the bonds), the sovereign debt market has been distinguished by its long-standing “reputation as relatively safe, staid, and conservative.”Footnote 11 Both markets, however, share a key feature: they are realms characterized by quantifiable risks and by irreducible uncertainty. Unlike the market for hydrocarbons (Chapter 7),Footnote 12 neither sovereign debt nor credit derivatives are material assets, making valuation far less certain and expectations more dependent on stabilizing market conventions. Our analysis of these markets thus helps to illustrate the power-generating effects of practices employed by financial market actors grappling with uncertainty – practices that can often subvert the instruments of control power and that produce surprising outcomes.

Uncertainty, Knowledge, and Incomplete Control in Financial Markets

Viewed through the analytical lens of financialization, the balance of power between the financial sector and the state resembles a seesaw that has, over the past thirty years, tipped away from the “postwar settlement” arrangement in which finance, “controlled by the state and the rules of the Bretton Woods system,” was relatively weak, and toward a new arrangement in which “financial institutions have become increasingly powerful and influential” – a power shift that necessarily involved a significant loss of public control. “The powers and capacities of the financial sector,” Morgan observes, “have clearly varied over time according to the degree to which the state has managed to control and regulate its activities and processes.”Footnote 13

By focusing exclusively on the struggle for control and domination, the conventional perspective provides only a partial view of power dynamics in financial markets, however. Other scholars of power in finance make similar claims. Nesvetailova, for example, observes that the complexity and uncertainty of globalized financial systems calls for a process-centered understanding of power; as she notes, “it would be mistaken to present the financial industry as some cohesive or unified force that is able to control outcomes … The industry’s power [lies] less in its ability to control the agenda and more in its ability to adapt and innovate in a way that it [is] not harmed by agendas set by others.”Footnote 14 Likewise, in Woll’s comparative study of bank–government relations during the 2008 global financial crisis, thinking about power as a resource that financial actors hold, store, and strategically deploy misses the heart of the story; far more important are the processes by which finance enrolled, convinced, and enlisted “people who perform social relations defined in the interests of the financial industry.”Footnote 15 The protean power framework is better placed to understand innovations that allowed financial players to evade control by outside actors arising from what Johal et al. describe as “a kind of practical bricolage which responds to changing circumstances by mobilizing whatever means are to hand and thereby adds both new capacities and unintended consequences.”Footnote 16 By bringing the protean power approach to the analysis we can better account for both the specificity and unpredictability of agile actors’ navigation of open and uncertain environments and the structural consequences that result from the efforts by both private and public authorities to alternately facilitate and crack down on agile players’ power-generating practices.

Systems of Knowledge in Financial Practice and Governance

Financial market players’ improvisational and innovative practices are purposive responses to environments that are often experienced as highly uncertain; those practices, however, can change the environment itself in unpredictable ways, triggering responses by other actors that must adapt their own practices to (illusorily) re-establish control in a world they experience primarily as risky – thus contributing to new structures and systems of meaning. To better understand these issues, we turn to the work of Marglin and Scott (writing separately), for whom the existence of distinct systems of knowledge plays a central role in analyzing relations of power and resistance. These forms of knowledge, we contend, underlie the forms of power theorized by Seybert and Katzenstein (Chapters 1, 2, and 13).

Marglin invokes these forms of knowledge to explain “the odd mixture of resistance and accommodation with which workers have received technical changes that have undermined their autonomy.”Footnote 17 In trying to understand why workers in advanced industrial countries were often complicit in the reorganizations of production that ultimately enhanced managers’ control power, Marglin makes the case that dominant “shared cultural assumptions” elevated one form of knowledge (episteme) over another, putatively inferior knowledge system (techne), allowing management “to restructure production so as to separate conception from execution, the better to bring execution under their control.”Footnote 18

Marglin’s claim about the socio-cultural underpinnings for the disempowerment of workers is less important for us than the dynamics he associates with each “knowledge system.” Episteme-type knowledge, in Marglin’s ideal-typical conceptualization, is logically deduced from first principles (it is axiomatic); it is decomposable, analytic, impersonal, incremental, and often lays claim to universality. This type of knowledge is geared to external verification, though possession of episteme-type knowledge is a key way in which “insiders” are distinguished from outsiders. According to Marglin, “episteme disenfranchises those outside. From the universalistic claim of episteme it is an easy and direct step to the view that those lacking in episteme are lacking in knowledge itself.”Footnote 19 Episteme is suited for (and indeed often presumes) a world of calculable risks.

Techne-type knowledge, by contrast, is practical, personal, and non-decomposable. It is geared much more to unpredictable processes of creation and discovery. “Opposed to the small steps of episteme,” Marglin argues, “are both received doctrine and the imaginative leaps which all at once enable one to fit the jigsaw puzzle together.”Footnote 20 The dynamics of techne-type knowledge are unpredictable and difficult to control: “the underlying structure of technic innovation, like the techne it modifies, is often hidden from the innovator itself.”Footnote 21 Techne is suited for (and contributes to) worlds of incalculable uncertainties. Scott terms this form of practical, adaptive knowledge mētis, ascribing to mētis the same phronetic and non-systematic qualities Marglin identifies with techne. Mētis is, in Scott’s words, “the mode of reasoning most appropriate to complex material and social tasks where the uncertainties are so daunting that we must trust our (experienced) intuition and feel our way.”Footnote 22

While Marglin and Scott both identify techne with traditional, locally embedded forms of knowledge, and position it in contrast to (though simultaneously co-complicit with) modernizing capitalist projects, we expand this concept to apply to highly technologically sophisticated, de-localized financial actors. While financial markets certainly depend on episteme-type forms of knowledge for their existence and development (e.g., through standardized contracts and risk models), the irreducibly adaptive and innovative aspects of finance strike us as consistent with this less systematic, more intuitive system of experiential knowledge.

For Marglin, the success of workers’ resistance to changes in the organization of production that reduced their autonomy was built on the techne-type knowledge that could not be automated or replicated with “scientific” management principles. The devaluation of techne and the elevation of episteme in the culture of manufacturing work in the United States was a key element in workers’ greater willingness to accommodate management’s promotion of labor-saving (and autonomy-sapping) changes in production processes. But the two forms of knowledge are ultimately intertwined; the “techne of coping with uncertainty” persisted “as a distinct, complementary system of knowledge and basis for action … episteme can never be a self-sufficient system for organizing thought, much less action.”Footnote 23 The control power of management was enhanced by the systematic effort to crowd out techne in favor of episteme – but techne’s ineradicable nature meant that the protean power-generating effects of workers’ improvisatory and innovative practices were always latent. The inseparability of the forms of knowledge privileged by wielders of control power and effective agents of protean power is similarly well captured by Scott’s insight that “formal order, to be more explicit, is always and to some considerable degree parasitic on informal processes, which the formal scheme does not recognize, without which it could not exist, and which it alone cannot create or maintain.”Footnote 24

We see evidence of a similar dynamic in the world of finance. From the late 1970s up to the crisis of 2008 the struggle for control power in the American financial system often, but not always, tipped in favor of the industry’s representatives and against the public officials in the bureaucratic regulatory institutions. There is a parallel between the struggle for control over the regulation of finance and Marglin’s argument about the elevation of episteme-type knowledge over techne in industrial production. Self-regulation often meant that market players and regulators alike came to rely on mathematically sophisticated risk models to (illusorily) transform uncertainty into risk.Footnote 25 Episteme-type systems increasingly provided the instruments of control, as model-based risk estimates supplanted case-by-case judgments. And as in Marglin’s domain of production, the effort to squeeze techne-type knowledge out of the discussions of finance and its regulation in favor of episteme laid the groundwork for greater accommodation of finance’s control power by public authorities. Finance’s insiders jealously guarded their superior knowledge. “Anyone who questions the mystique (of finance) and the claims that are made,” Admati and Hellwig observe, “is at risk of being declared incompetent to participate in the discussion. The specialists’ façade of competence and confidence is too intimidating.”Footnote 26 As one financial specialist told Woll, “the people talking publicly don’t know what they’re talking about. The people who do know aren’t talking.”Footnote 27

While the elevation of episteme-type knowledge by financial market actors helped to insulate the sector and, by enrolling public authorities in the project to expand finance’s reach, increased financial actors’ capacity to exert control power, uncertainty in financial markets was not fully transformed to manageable, insurable risks and the agile, improvisatory practices associated with techne-type knowledge continued to circulate within financial markets, generating surprising adaptations, innovations, and disruptions.

At the same time as effective control depends on informal processes, financial markets depend on the exercise of control power in order to even function. Processes of commensuration and categorization constitute an essential part of the bedrock upon which all markets (not just those for financial assets) rest.Footnote 28 But control power in sophisticated financial markets is always incomplete. The instruments of control (such as pricing and risk models) did not actually transform uncertainty into quantifiable risk, though that was the market convention and experience of many actors for some time. Much as Brigden and Andreas observe in the case of migration (Chapter 5), historical data is often an unreliable indicator of future success; like border-crossing strategies, risk management strategies often generate a process analogous to what Donald MacKenzie terms “counterperformativity.”Footnote 29 That is, a strategy for controlling the future, once used, destabilizes future outcomes. For example, derivatives contracts, once used to hedge investments and reduce risk, in fact, produce systemic risk when they trade at sufficiently high volumes.

Techne-type knowledge could never be fully eliminated from financial markets. Tacit, practical, personal knowledge remained essential in the activities of financial market players, ranging from those involved in arbitrage trading to risk modelers and managers, whose decisions continued to involve a strong subjective component based on experiential knowledge, to the legal technicians responsible for assigning collateral to derivative contracts.Footnote 30 The practices of market players grappling with deep uncertainty subverted control efforts better suited to risky environments, producing breakthrough innovations, new sources of profits, and unintended effects that exacerbated markets’ fragilities. The interaction of episteme and techne as distinct systems of knowledge at work in the governance and practice of finance touches off new and unpredictable dynamics and opens up new possibilities for the exercise of power.

Illustrative Evidence from the Market for Over-the-Counter Derivatives

The recent history of OTC credit derivatives illustrates how utterly unpredictable power-generating effects can emerge when the conventional control-oriented practices that enable some actors to experience their environment as more risky than uncertain confront radically disruptive strategies from agile players, under enormous competitive pressure to innovate, who experience their environment as highly uncertain. This section of the chapter traces collateralization practices in OTC markets from the self-regulation of the 1990s and early 2000s, through the 2008 global financial crisis, to the post-crisis regulatory requirement that requires OTC derivative contracts to be cleared through central counterparties (CCPs). Although the mandated shift to central clearing was intended to restore a measure of public oversight and control to a market that was constituted by near-constant innovation, complexity, and opacity, to date the central clearing mandate has been prone to unintended consequences and has itself been a source of uncertainty for market actors.

Derivatives are financial assets, the value of which is derived from an underlying asset or source of risk, such as a bond or interest rate, and which effectively allow asset-holders to insure or hedge against the risk of future price changes in the underlying asset. The development of financial derivatives can itself be understood as an illustration of the effects of protean power. Although commodity derivatives have existed in various forms for centuries, the development of financial derivatives can be dated back to the emergence of currency swaps, in which the underlying asset was not a tangible commodity, but rather the risk of future changes in currency values, in the early 1980s. The first of these deals was between the World Bank and IBM, with Salomon Brothers acting as an intermediary. This form of financial exchange was an unanticipated innovation, and one that disrupted not only foreign exchange markets, but also financial markets more generally as the underlying methodology quickly spread to other forms of financial risk such as interest rates and, eventually, to credit risk. As Gillian Tett writes, “This new form of trade quickly spread across Wall Street and the City of London, mutating into wildly complex deals that seemed to give bankers godlike powers.”Footnote 31 The novelty of these products allowed them to elude controls; they did not fit clearly into existing regulatory categories, which allowed banks to persuasively argue that swaps were neither futures nor securities nor loans and could not be regulated under the regulatory regimes for any of those product classes.Footnote 32

The market for OTC derivatives was largely unregulated by public authorities prior to the 2008 crisis. The categorical ambiguity of swaps and derivatives contributed to this self-regulatory outcome, but public regulators, especially in the United States under the leadership of Alan Greenspan, also took an intentionally hands-off approach to regulating the market for these products in the first decades after they were developed and became widespread. Regulatory intervention was thought likely to distort the efficient allocation of risk, and regulators argued that market actors had sufficient incentives to manage counterparty risk on their own. Alan Greenspan’s 2003 address at the Conference on Bank Structure and Competition illustrates this regulatory attitude toward derivatives markets: “Market participants usually have strong incentives to monitor and control the risk they assume in choosing to deal with particular counterparties. In essence, prudential regulation is supplied by the market through counterparty evaluation and monitoring rather than by [public] authorities.”Footnote 33 Although Greenspan recognized that the limited number of market participants in the OTC derivatives market risked creating concentrations of counterparty risks, “rais[ing] the specter of the failure of one dealer imposing debilitating losses on its counterparties, including other deals, yielding a chain of defaults,” he asserted that “derivatives market participants seem keenly aware of the counterparty credit risks associated with derivatives and take various measures to mitigate those risks.”Footnote 34 While perhaps most dominant in the US regulatory culture, the pro-self-regulation view was also shared by the Basel Committee for Banking Supervision, the main international public actor to take up the issue of transnational market regulation. The Basel Committee’s recommendations for national regulations included the “[promotion of a] better foundation for self-regulation.”Footnote 35

The lack of public regulation of derivatives did not, however, indicate an absence of control power in market governance. Prior to the crisis, the risk of counterparty default was addressed through a series of conventional practices, intended to measure and control risk, and rooted primarily in private authority structures – most notably the International Swaps and Derivatives Association (ISDA), an industry coordinating and lobbying group, as well as the credit rating agencies. ISDA supplied parties to derivatives deals with a standard contract known as the Master Agreement that could be modified to fit the specifics of individual derivative dealings. The ISDA Master Agreement outlined provisions for terminating contracts in the event of counterparty default, most notably permitting parties to “net out” all of their transactions with each other, rather than undertaking a series of payments back and forth that the defaulting party might not be able to complete.Footnote 36 Regulators lauded the provision as an example of market-based initiatives to reduce counterparty risk.Footnote 37 The Master Agreement also includes an Annex (the Credit Support Annex) that was widely used to govern collateral agreements between counterparties, intended to reduce the risk of large losses in the event of counterparty default.

In addition to the ISDA Master Agreement and its termination and netting provisions, derivatives dealers relied heavily on credit assessments from credit rating agencies to calculate counterparties’ creditworthiness. Credit rating played a particularly important role in the market for credit derivatives, which are contracts that protect investors against the risk of default and depend on an estimation of securities’ creditworthiness for their value.Footnote 38 Finally, derivatives market participants relied on standardized risk and valuation models to accurately price contracts, taking the risk of default into account.

The inadequacy of these private forms of counterparty risk management through control power was starkly revealed during the 2008 financial crisis, when waves of defaults by insufficiently collateralized counterparties spread through the derivatives market. The system of bilateral private contracts was recognized as overly complex and severely lacking in transparency, as contracts were unwound rapidly and without sufficient liquidity in the system to ensure full repayment. As Andrew Haldane of the Bank of England observed in early 2009, “The financial system is … a network, with nodes defined by the financial institutions and links defined by the financial interconnections between these institutions … When assessing nodal risk, it is not enough to know your counterparty; you need to know your counterparty’s counterparty too.”Footnote 39

In response to this financial contagion and to systemic risk more broadly, the G20 and the Financial Stability Board called for a series of substantial reforms of the OTC derivative market, most notably decreeing that “All standardized OTC derivative contracts should be traded on exchanges or electronic trading platforms, where appropriate, and cleared through central counterparties by end-2012 at the latest.”Footnote 40 While not all of the G20 proposed reforms have been implemented, public regulators in the United States and the European Union mandated a system of central clearing of most OTC derivatives through central counterparties – private clearing houses that would serve as immediate counterparties to all derivatives transactions. Central clearing was a key component of both the Dodd–Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act (Dodd–Frank) in the United States (section VII) and of the 2012 European Markets Infrastructure Regulation (EMIR) in the EU, which authorized the European Securities and Market Authority to impose clearing obligations on certain classes of OTC derivatives. These reforms were intended to make Haldane’s complex networks of counterparties more transparent and to allow for centralized risk management: since each derivatives buyer and seller has the CCP as a counterparty, netting and collateralization are multilateralized and market actors’ net exposures are more readily apparent. Although relatively recently implemented, the central clearing requirement has already had a significant effect. By 2016, 62 percent of all OTC contracts were conducted through CCPs, and the Bank for International Settlements estimated that the rate of clearing for interest rate derivatives had more than doubled (and perhaps even tripled) between 2008 and 2016 as a result of the clearing mandate.Footnote 41

It is tempting to read this as a straightforward story of weakly regulated markets running amok, followed by the reassertion of control power by authoritative actors. The move to central clearing is undoubtedly rooted in a post-crisis consensus not just among public actors, but also among many private market participants that the OTC market is an appropriate object of public regulation.Footnote 42

But we contend that we can better understand the tremendous power of the financial industry before and after the crisis, as well as the instabilities and uncertainties that continue to characterize financial markets, by looking at interactions between control power and protean power effects. In our narrative of three moments of the recent history of derivatives – pre-crisis, during the crisis, and its aftermath – we observe innovation by agile market players, to which other market players respond, and which triggers responses to uncertainty generated by protean power by actors seeking to re-impose a degree of control. New forms of control, however, breed new forms of adaptation in the market, with unpredictable consequences.

In the pre-2008 period, the market for OTC derivatives was largely unregulated by public authorities, but intentionally so, as the lack of public control was essential to the continued profitability of the market and to ensure the efficient distribution of risk. Greenspan’s claim (“the benefits of derivatives, in judgment, have far exceeded their costs”) is illustrative of this attitude.Footnote 43 Derivatives were seen as important tools to enhance economic performance through the global financial system, and this economic performance was directly tied to more traditional forms of state power. It is possible to read public regulators’ accommodation of finance’s power as a form of financial statecraft, an attempt to, if not harness, at least capture and direct some of the unpredictable but undeniable power of unfettered global capital.

Examining the forms of knowledge operating in the pre-crisis derivatives industry reveals further points of interaction between market practices. Financial markets are often characterized in terms of techne, spheres of activity that are systematically structured to reward practices that make use of specific local knowledge deployed in highly uncertain contexts – the kind of knowledge on which arbitrage trading has historically depended. The constant development of bank-specific product classes, portfolio composition techniques, and trading and risk management strategies are sources of profit-making that depend on superior information, gained through experiential knowledge of the market and asset values.

At the same time, however, financial markets should also be understood as structured by standardized, widely diffused forms of knowledge and associated practices that are better geared to risk-based contexts. While episteme is often equated with state control, all financial markets require some level of standardization to establish the basis for price discovery and adequate liquidity, and private regulation played a key role in the development for the market for OTC credit derivatives. ISDA’s Master Agreement (as detailed above) was a key innovation in creating a liquid global market for derivatives. Standardized contracts, basic pricing and risk models, and electronic trading platforms are all innovations that have imposed a measure of standardization and centralization on derivatives markets. Credit rating, which is explicitly intended to render assets and creditors comparable, is a constitutive financial market practice that is clearly in the realm of episteme, rather than techne, even as it allowed assets to be combined in new and innovative ways. It is precisely these private forms of governance that have served as permissive conditions for the protean power-generating effects of financial market innovation to flourish.

The application of episteme-type knowledge to financial markets, shot through with uncertainty and complexity, requires forms of knowledge more akin to techne. For instance, while ISDA’s Master Agreement structured derivatives deals in a predictable and comparable way, the actual processes through which collateral agreements were reached were in fact sites of considerable uncertainty, stabilized through negotiations by legal technicians and conventional “legal fictions.”Footnote 44 Although often represented (by market actors) and interpreted (by regulators) as a realm of technical, objective problem-solving, the techniques embodied in the Master Agreement and actually enacted by market participants are a politically consequential mode of private financial market governance.

Examining the pre-crisis market for OTC derivatives through the lens of power reveals a fractal-like pattern, where each interaction of control and protean power-generating practices touches off another dynamic in which seemingly opposing forms of knowledge and power again come together, often in unpredictable ways. Rather than enhancing real economic performance, the assiduous accommodation of the purveyors of control power to the unfettered protean power-creating practices of innovative financial market players was ultimately cited as magnifying the subprime crisis in devastating ways.Footnote 45 With this analysis in hand, we are better equipped to make sense of the ambiguous consequences of the move to central clearing.

While ostensibly a move by public regulators to reclaim a measure of control over financial markets, the central clearing requirements in the EU and the United States have struggled to do just that. Rather than centralizing a market formerly seen as overly complex and decentralized, central clearing requirements have produced regulatory fragmentation, as different jurisdictions have imposed different clearing requirements on different timelines, a development that risks a reduction of liquidity in the global market for derivatives. This market fragmentation has been accompanied by significant uncertainty on the part of derivatives end users about what central clearing means for banks’ profitability.Footnote 46

Similarly, analysts and market observers have raised questions about the ability of CCPs to effectively mitigate systemic risk. For example, ISDA’s then-chair Stephen O’Connor’s recent remark that the two major clearinghouses, LCH.Clearnet and CME “probably” have enough capital on hand in case of widespread default of their members.Footnote 47 Other commentators have observed that risk is becoming increasingly concentrated in CCPs, raising the possibility that these institutions will become, in effect, too big to fail. Announcements in 2015 by the European Central Bank and the Bank of England that they would backstop CCPs in crises fueled concerns that some of the same problems of moral hazard and excessive risk-taking on the part of investment banks that were cited as conditions of possibility for the financial crisis have merely been transferred to a new set of private financial actors.Footnote 48

Finally, some commentators have observed that large volumes of trading do not even qualify for central clearing. Not all OTC derivatives have large enough trading volumes to ensure the liquidity necessary for centralized clearing and are exempted from the clearing requirements of Dodd–Frank and EMIR. Perhaps more significantly, so-called dark pools of capital continue to be unregulated at the public level.

The shift in regulatory thinking from viewing derivatives as an area in which authorities should not obstruct the protean power-generating innovations pursued by actors on the frontiers of the market to a view shared by influential regulators in the EU and United States that the market for derivatives is an appropriate object for at least some measure of state control is a significant one. Nonetheless, state actors have struggled to assert control over a sphere of social interaction that is constituted by irreducible uncertainty – and thus is a realm of breakthrough innovation by adaptable, agile actors. Having legitimized these forms of privately governed social activity in the 1990s and early 2000s, recent attempts to put the genie back in the bottle have instead touched off new practices that subvert efforts at bringing the system under control and that have unpredictable effects on actors’ power potentialities.

Illustrative Evidence from the Market for International Sovereign Debt

The international market for sovereign debt provides additional illustrations of the dynamics of control and protean power in finance.Footnote 49 Control power in the international sovereign debt market manifests in several ways. Certification of the creditworthiness of prospective borrowers is tightly controlled by a small number of key players. As in derivatives markets, three rating agencies (Fitch, Moody’s, and S&P) dominate. In addition to the credit-raters who grade sovereign borrowers, an elite group of investment banks serve as the “underwriters” for the issuances. The few “primary dealers” in the market rake in huge fees paid by the issuing governments to arrange the deal with money managers; the market underwriters work with prospective buyers to gauge demand, organize countries’ auction schedules, and bring in the lawyers from elite international firms to write the debt prospectuses. Gatekeeping by the elite, market-making primary dealers is intended “to promote liquidity, predictability, and stability in sovereign bond markets.”Footnote 50 Flandreau et al. identified forty-three different banks that served as underwriters in the sovereign debt market between 1993 and 2007, but the top three primary dealers – JP Morgan, Citi, and Deutsche Bank – handled nearly 40 percent of the deals during the period.Footnote 51 Control is highly concentrated in the international sovereign debt market.

Control power is also exercised in the sovereign debt market through the classification schemas employed by market players to differentiate borrowers. The market devices that sort sovereigns into “developing/frontier,” “emerging,” and “advanced” categories are powerful instruments of control.Footnote 52 The so-called “currency clauses” in sovereign debt contracts, for example, systematically differ depending on whether an issuer is considered an “advanced” country or slotted into a different category of borrower. For the advanced borrowers, the denomination of payment to bondholders is typically the same as the national currency; for issuers in the emerging and developing categories, by contrast, the currency clause in the prospectus requires repayment using one of the handful of “hard” currencies issued by the governments in the global financial centers. Sovereigns in the emerging and developing categories are also obliged to include another clause in their debt contracts: they select a foreign legal jurisdiction (almost always New York or London) under which the transaction will be registered (and which becomes the site for adjudication if the bondholders and issuer get into a dispute).Footnote 53 Dominant classification schemas in the market for sovereign debt also govern the term structure of debt issuances: historically, only the countries in the advanced club could float long-dated bonds (exceeding thirty years) on the international market.Footnote 54

The contractual arrangement between the sovereign and private creditor, spelled out in the debt prospectus that accompanies the “coupon” purchased by the bondholder, is clearly a locus for the exercise of control power in the market. But control power, as in other financial realms, is incomplete, and contracts have in recent years become the key instrument for a massive disruption of the market engineered by aggressive, protean power-generating players in the international market for sovereign debt.

The disruptive innovators in the market are newer, more litigious specialized firms (“distressed debt funds,” colloquially known as “vulture funds”) that set out “to buy defaulted debt at large discounts with the aim of extracting the best possible settlement.”Footnote 55 Their disruptive capacity springs from three sources: the deepening of the secondary market for sovereign bonds; the erosion of the principle of sovereign immunity; and, most importantly, the contractual terms that we (following Riles) interpret as “legal fictions” that market players employ primarily as a way to deal with Knightian uncertainty endemic in all but the simplest of financial markets.

Riles’ work directs our attention to the way in which seemingly arcane, technical, and (ostensibly) apolitical contractual clauses serve as “legal fictions” that enable the transacting parties to act “as if” the ambiguity about what will happen in the (unknowable) future has been mapped out so that the deal can be completed. Legal fictions do not resolve the fundamental uncertainties that parties to a financial market transaction actually face. Rather, the contractual clauses sweep uncertainty – at least for the moment – under the rug.Footnote 56 Market participants may not believe in or even fully understand the meaning of a “placeholder” that appears in financial market contracts.Footnote 57

The pari passu clause in sovereign debt contracts is a prototypical legal fiction that, were it not the wellspring for a massively disruptive innovation hatched by a “vulture” fund that many believe is “systematically harmful … to the market for sovereign bonds,” would be of little interest to anyone outside market specialists.Footnote 58 In English “pari passu” means “in equal step.” The clause is typically a single sentence occupying several lines of text, and it appears “in most cross-border credit instruments.”Footnote 59

The pari passu clause can be interpreted as a means of preventing borrowers from “ranking” debts, such that in a debt rescheduling event one outstanding obligation could not be paid before the others. But the pari passu clause certainly has a fictional quality, since “almost no one knows what it [really] means.”Footnote 60 The fictional element of the pari passu is that a bondholder’s rights and obligations are clearly defined and enforceable. Rather than resolving uncertainty, the clause introduces other ambiguities: if the sovereign borrower’s legislature passes a law preventing the government from paying “holdouts” that do not participate in a debt rescheduling but the debt was issued in a different jurisdiction (in New York, for example), which legal system applies? What happens if the sovereign borrower violates the clause? What constitutes a violation of the covenant?

The clause does not reduce the uncertainty that the bondholder faces; rather, it describes the exchange as a relationship involving rights and obligations of the contracting parties. The pari passu clause does nothing to clarify the probability of default or the price of the instrument, nor does it involve making predictions about what will actually happen in the future; rather, it generates the possibility of moving the discussion to the realm of law, and in doing so it empowers some actors and disempowers others. As in Reus-Smit’s case of human rights revolutions (Chapter 3), the contractual clause that enabled vulture funds to innovate their disruptive strategy is chiefly characterized by meaning indeterminacy. The clause requires interpretation, and since meaning is fundamentally uncertain, space is opened for “contractual arbitrage” in which an opportunistic player advances “an interpretation not contemplated by the parties in the ex ante drafting process.”Footnote 61 But activating the clause’s latent capacity to function as a politically potent form of private governance requires the willingness and means to pursue a highly improbable legal strategy.

The uncertain gamble that would shock the world of sovereign debt originated with a small fund specializing in distressed debt, Elliott Associates L.P. The fund’s now-legendary legal arbitrageur, Jay Newman, was one of the very few in the market who actually read bond contracts.Footnote 62 He and the other partners at Elliott identified the obscure pari passu clause as the fulcrum in a strategy to extract payment from sovereigns that had fallen into difficulty paying their debts.

In the late 1990s, Elliott Associates sued a Peruvian bank (Banco de la Nación, the issuer) and the government of Peru (the guarantor of the debt) for repayment of bonds the fund had purchased at steep discount just before Peru wrapped up restructuring its external debt under the auspices of the Brady Bond plan spearheaded by the US Treasury. Elliott Associates won its case in a New York court and was awarded a $57 million judgment – but winning a case against a government and collecting on the judgment are two different problems, and the former is easier to solve than the latter.Footnote 63 To ensure that it would be paid, Elliott’s lawyers constructed a legal argument, built on law professor Andreas Lowenfeld’s interpretation of the pari passu clause in the Peruvian debt contracts as requiring ratability of payments, to prevent any other bondholder (including the vast majority of bondholders that participated in the Brady negotiations) from being paid if Elliott was not also paid in full.Footnote 64 Instead of the conventional interpretation of the clause as meaning that a borrower could not accumulate new debt that would be paid before the previously issued debts in a restructuring event, Elliott’s lawyers argued that “a debtor not yet in bankruptcy that has accepted a pari passu covenant must pay all its equally-ranking debts equally.”Footnote 65 In September 2000, a Belgian court ruled in favor of Elliott over Peru, and it ordered the Euroclear system through which the first Brady payments were to flow to European bondholders to freeze Peruvian payments. Caught between two horns – give up its case against the “vulture fund” or miss the Brady bond payment and fall into technical default – the Peruvian government chose to settle with Elliott for over $56 million.Footnote 66 Other distressed debt funds noted the extraordinary interpretation of the clause in the Brussels court and a number of similar lawsuits were launched.

Buchheit and Pam lay out a series of criticisms of the Belgian interpretation of the pari passu clause.Footnote 67 The decision strengthened the position of holdout creditors and worsened coordination problems involved in organizing debt restructuring among far-flung bondholders with different preferences. The decision also conflicted with a long-standing convention in the sovereign debt market: the debt owed to “official” creditors (the IMF, World Bank, and other international financial organizations) is, by custom, senior to privately held debt. The “ratable” interpretation of the clause threw this practice into question. Varottil distills the critical view of the decision: “The overwhelming number of arguments against the judgment in Elliott confirms that the court’s interpretation cannot stand. The market should therefore be expected to react by clarifying the language in sovereign debt documentation to avoid similar results in the future.”Footnote 68

That is not what happened. Instead, the pari passu clause was retained in post-September 2000 sovereign debt contracts without any significant alterations.Footnote 69 The clause was at the center of the legal case brought by NML Capital (a subsidiary of Elliott Associates) against Argentina. The Argentine government refused to redeem NML Capital’s holdings of bonds, purchased on the secondary market at bargain-basement prices, because doing so would contravene the 2005 “padlock” law that prevents the government from paying bondholders that were not party to the country’s debt restructurings.Footnote 70 In 2011, a judge in New York ruled that the 2005 law was a violation of the pari passu clause and moved in 2012 to freeze the country’s payments to its creditors, raising the specter, as Peru experienced in September 2000, of another (this time involuntary) default on its international debt. And indeed Argentina did fall into a “technical default” in July 2014 after the US Supreme Court rejected the Argentine government’s challenge to the New York court’s decision. Argentina was unable to make payments to any of its creditors; as a consequence, the country was locked out of the international debt market, and as the central bank’s reserves dwindled the threat of a serious balance of payments crisis loomed.Footnote 71

The major players in the international market for sovereign debt tried to write off the Belgian court’s September 2000 interpretation of pari passu as an aberration. But the New York court’s decision in the NML v. Argentina case threw the market into a panic. In Gulati and Scott’s estimation, “the almost universal assumption of the sovereign debt community of lawyers, academics, and government officials was that the Second Circuit Court of Appeals – traditionally, the pre-eminent court in the country on business law matters – would … repudiate the pro rating sharing interpretation of pari passu.”Footnote 72 When the court affirmed the “aberrant” interpretation of pari passu (and the US Supreme Court declined to hear Argentina’s appeal) the potentially catastrophic consequences of the fact that Elliott’s gamble had paid off began to sink in: given that every issuance in recent decades includes the clause and that a large proportion of emerging market borrowers (and, increasingly, advanced countries) would need at some point to restructure their outstanding debts, the holdout strategy could tie up the market in a welter of lawsuits. The standardized contract in sovereign debt had gone from instrument of market control by a few powerful players to an engine of uncertainty and ambiguity, upon which the newer, smaller players in the market, the distressed debt funds, thrived (while the old guard reeled). As in the case of rights revolutions (Chapter 3), a novel legal interpretation was the source of transformation, illustrating both the incompleteness of the law as a form of control power, as well as the potential for creative interpretation of ostensibly fixed and standardized rules to serve as a generator of protean power effects, with unpredictable consequences for actors’ power potentialities. Formerly peripheral players in the sovereign debt market – the vulture funds – have shown that they can use legal arguments about the meaning of boilerplate clauses in debt contracts to hijack debt restructurings and extract large settlements. Sovereign states that cannot fully repay their debts, meanwhile, are likely to have a more difficult time mounting a defense against litigation brought by private creditors – though the Argentine ruling “leaves behind a confused and contested jurisprudence, which will take years to sort out.” But one lesson from the episode is clear: “not suing is the one sure path for a creditor to be left out in the cold.”Footnote 73

Conclusion

We conclude by reflecting on lessons from the analysis of power in our illustrative cases for two important questions. What drives the high degree of accommodation by political and societal actors to financialization, a process that has increased the financial sector’s material power while simultaneously rendered markets more unpredictable and fragile? And, second, why are financial markets prone to ruptures that surprise insiders and outsiders alike? The empirical sections of our chapter suggest two complementary answers to these questions.

In the OTC derivatives case, we argue that political and societal actors came to regard the innovation and adaptation that fuel the market for derivatives as legitimate, and indeed as socially beneficial, economic activities. The traditional holders of control power have, in effect, carved out a sphere in which techne-type knowledge circulates freely – and with unpredictable effects. In one sense, the story of accommodation of finance is the inverse of Marglin’s account of accommodation in production: rather than devaluing techne in favor of (inevitably incomplete) episteme-type knowledge, conventionally powerful actors have recognized and authorized the power of financial actors’ creativity – and inevitably, its potential for disruption and crisis. Nonetheless, the imperatives of commensurability and risk management for purposes of price discovery and profitability, even (or perhaps especially) within a highly uncertain market, brought episteme back into the picture, wielded first by private regulatory actors such as ISDA and, following the crisis, increasingly by public actors. When confronted with the forms of adaptive and innovative knowledge that partially constitute derivatives markets, however, these attempts at imposing control have not only been incomplete but have, in the case of central clearing, perpetuated uncertainty. The protean power of financial actors represents a likely insurmountable challenge to wielders of control power, even when financial actors’ creativity is not directly aimed at subverting control.

The evidence from the sovereign debt market pushes this argument a step further. Disruptive “legal arbitrage” strategies pursued by vultures have not been legitimated or authorized by the traditional wielders of control in the market. The effect of protean power-creating practices in the sovereign debt market has generated responses, in the form of the IMF’s recent efforts to get contract writers to use a narrower version of the pari passu clause and the UN General Assembly’s endorsement of a global set of principles for debt restructurings. But attempts to impose greater control in irreducibly uncertain environments are not only necessarily incomplete, but in fact serve as conditions of possibility for improvisatory and innovative practices that have unpredictable power effects. In sovereign debt, as in OTC derivatives, a market has developed in which risk and uncertainty are central economic objects. The attempt to reckon with the uncertainty of bondholder rights in the future event of debt rescheduling by means of the pari passu clause can be read as an effort at asserting control over an uncertain future by means of deploying episteme-type knowledge. The clause was intended to move this uncertainty into the standardized, transnationally applicable world of law. However, because the underlying uncertainty linked to the interpretation of the clause was not eliminated, vulture funds were able to leverage this uncertainty to their benefit. And there are other conventional clauses of indeterminate meaning in debt contracts that vultures may use to pursue legal cases against sovereigns.Footnote 74 While the particular form of market disruption could not have been anticipated by Seybert and Katzenstein’s approach (Chapters 1, 2, and 13), their framework nonetheless attunes us to the possibility that protean power-creating practices, followed by agile, innovative actors operating in contexts marked by incomplete control under uncertainty, can be endogenous forces that push financial markets into conditions that are experienced by all – including people with otherwise indirect connections to the markets – as destructive crises.

9 Terrorism and Protean Power: How Terrorists Navigate Uncertainty

Barak Mendelsohn Footnote 1

Terrorism is commonly understood as a coercive strategy of armed non-state actors operating under conditions of asymmetry in capabilities.Footnote 2 This perspective is grounded in the understanding of power as control; even scholars who advocate complex and more nuanced conceptions of power view terrorists’ application of force as a variant of control power.Footnote 3 Yet control power tells only a part of the story when considering policymakers’ failure to foresee the emergence of al-Qaeda and the Islamic State (referred to here also as ISIS) as consequential actors on the global scene with tremendous capacities to disrupt the international order. If we only consider one dimension, control power will be a poor explanatory factor.

This chapter argues that in order to understand the interaction between terrorist groups and their state enemies we must view the world as an open system in which actors experience both risk and uncertainty. It demonstrates that protean power – defined by Seybert and Katzenstein (Chapter 1, p. 4) as the effect of improvisational and innovative responses to uncertainty that arise from actors’ creativity and agility – does not appear as the result of external shocks only, but also as endogenous and central to state–terrorist dynamics. It shows that protean power could be the effect of actions taken not only by the weak (terrorists), but also by strong actors (states), and that agility and creativity are not the attributes of benign peaceful actors only, but also characterize predatory terrorist entities.

Terrorists try to harness uncertainty to advance their goals. They take advantage of the radical uncertainty of both the international system and its state components to undermine state legitimacy, and of operational uncertainty to expose the limits of states’ control power. And yet, the agility that allows terrorist groups to effectively navigate under conditions of uncertainty does not eliminate the constraints deriving from terrorists’ ultimate goal of control. As the experiences of both the Islamic State and al-Qaeda’s Yemen branch indicate, the more successful terrorists become, acquiring territorial possessions and the trappings of states, the more vulnerable they become to their enemies’ control power. Thus, by moving toward attaining their goals, terrorist groups lose many of the benefits that come from their manipulation of uncertainty: states’ resource advantage regains importance, while terrorists’ own ability to negotiate protean power weakens.

In contrast, states experience the world as predominantly risky, relying on control power to attain their objectives and fend off threats. When facing agile terrorist actors who improvise and innovate, states are slow to adjust, often failing to understand the threat in terms of uncertainty, to acknowledge the limitations of control power, and to design appropriate responses to power that circulates in unanticipated ways. Yet despite these difficulties, states are not impotent in the face of protean power. Slow as they are, states too can innovate and improvise to amplify their terrorist opponents’ uncertainty, thus undercutting the operation and message of terrorist groups.

Interestingly, all actors, even those that are highly adaptable when operating under uncertainty and intentionally seek to magnify the uncertainty of their foes, yearn to reduce their own sense of uncertainty. States often do so by translating uncertainty into risk. Decision-making is complicated and leaders are more comfortable basing their policy choices on probabilities to help simplify it – even if the prevalence of uncertainty means that these probabilities are often a fiction. Terrorists have a similar need to address their own sense of uncertainty. But as disparities in material capabilities turn the odds against them, translating uncertainty into risk is not enough. Instead, terrorists wish to create a sense of certainty and promote the belief that victory is inevitable. Religion can be very effective in producing such certainty and jihadis regularly employ Islam for this purpose, but other ideologies can provide a similar psychological relief in the face of forbidding odds.Footnote 4 The need of both states and terrorist groups to reduce their own sense of uncertainty comes with a price. It can easily lead them to misinterpret the underlying context, adopt failed policies, and then to misidentify the causes behind their failures.

Even as my analysis below emphasizes states and terrorist groups, it is important to note that they are not the only relevant actors: terrorist groups articulate a narrative of inevitable positive outcomes – victory or martyrdom – to assuage the fear of supporters and operatives. At times, their plans require inspiring unknown and uncontrollable individuals to take uncoordinated action that would increase states’ uncertainty. Yet reliance on such lone wolves also enhances terrorist groups’ own uncertainty because they do not know if and to what extent their calls will be answered, and whether such attacks will promote the groups’ objectives or backfire. Similarly, states are not the only actors to engage in counterterrorism. A vast infrastructure to combat terrorism depends on the functioning and knowledge of street-level bureaucrats in airports, local FBI offices, street corners, and elsewhere. Moreover, to confront amorphous threats, states empower a long list of societal actors – including civilians, high-tech companies, and banks – turning them into counterterrorists. Yet when protean power resulting from societal responses manifests in deepening social cleavages, Islamophobia, and hatred of refugees, it could undercut governments’ efforts.

The remainder of the chapter is organized around the two facets of uncertainty that Seybert and Katzenstein present in Chapters 1 and 2. I first discuss how terrorist groups, particularly those that seek to overthrow the Westphalian state system, respond to its radical uncertainty by innovating within cracks and contradictions of institutional complexes. The following section examines the role of religion in mitigating the psychological effects of uncertainty. Although Jihadis find religion a useful tool for replacing uncertainty with certainty, such efforts come with a price. At the same time, states’ attempts to respond to the religious messages are complicated by their amorphous audience and the decentralized nature of authority in Islam. The final section analyzes the links between lone wolves, suicide bombing, social media, and operational uncertainty, emphasizing not only terrorists’ efforts to increase operational uncertainty, but also the way states’ responses to terrorism mirror these efforts.

Terrorism and Radical Uncertainty

Radical uncertainty concerns those unknown unknowns that inherently defy calculation. As both the state and international society – the main targets of terrorism – depend on legitimacy, the resulting meaning indeterminacy creates a space for agile terrorist groups to leverage this uncertainty: they identify cracks and contradictions within these institutions and seek to amplify them. Terrorists chip away at states’ control power, challenging their legitimacy, and forcing them to search for effective responses to protean power.

In their quest for security, states are accustomed to looking at rival states – traditionally, the only threat to state survival. They build militaries to address threats emanating from other states, and design rules to manage interstate conflict. But measures designed to enhance predictability and stability in interstate relations present terrorist groups with opportunities to challenge states and erode their legitimacy. They take advantage of the tension between the anchoring of states’ legitimacy in the goods it provides – primarily security – and states’ inability to deploy the full extent of their control power when facing actors who seek to influence state calculations indirectly. They seek to force states to choose between unappealing options: appearing incompetent or controverting their own rules. From the terrorists’ perspective, either choice weakens the state’s legitimacy.

By using violence against innocent civilians, terrorists seek to shock their enemies, persuade them that the conventional dynamics of control power no longer apply, and intimidate them into submission. Turning all locations into a potential arena for violence, terrorists force states into a struggle in which the traditional deployment of forces to the front does not provide a viable solution: when every crowded street and shopping mall is a potential front, traditional defense becomes obsolete.

Twisting convention to their own ends, terrorists harness ideational developments such as the spread of the norm against the killing of civilians (primarily among democracies) to advance their cause. This norm, perceived as advancing human security by limiting the scope of legitimate violence, led to an unanticipated increase in the shock value of targeting innocents, inadvertently giving terrorists an effective tool to shape public opinion and pressure states into submission. Terrorist actors can engage in ever more gruesome violence, capture it on camera, and distribute it widely, multiplying the impact. Citizens’ fear of terrorism and states’ emphasis on this threat leads to disproportionate responses, such as the lockdown on Boston after the 2013 marathon bombing. Indeed, one of the most astonishing aspects of protean power is how the actions of terrorists, states, and ordinary people are mutually reinforcing, creating disconnects between the experience and actual threat of terrorism.Footnote 5 That states and individuals emphasize terrorism while accepting much more lethal threats – such as mass shootings, car accidents, and even accidental gun deaths at the hands of toddlersFootnote 6 – as unfortunate yet inevitable facts of life stands as a testament to terrorists’ ability to stoke fear.

Since states are constrained by norms regarding the application of force, responding to terrorism in kind, by violating rules of appropriate behavior, is likely to come at a stiff price. The flexing of a state’s control power only weakens its impact, as observers respond to the state’s overreaction by reconsidering both the competence and legitimacy of the state. Indeed, in fighting terrorism, the state can easily lose the moral high ground. The reliance on drone strikes to target terrorists has undermined users’ claims of moral superiority, because of the collateral damage and portrayals of it as extrajudicial killing that weakens the rule of law. The legitimacy of the state’s fight against jihadi terrorism has been further challenged by the very limited legal protections for detainees in US-run black sites and Guantanamo Bay, the torture of suspects, and the abuse of detainees in the Abu Ghraib prison.

The limitations on a state’s coercive power are particularly pronounced in Western countries that came to redefine their security obligations as encompassing the personal security of their inhabitants.Footnote 7 A state expected to protect the safety of its citizens and their property, not just of the state itself, is highly vulnerable to terrorist acts. Rising expectations regarding states’ responsibilities coincide with their declining ability to protect individuals. Thus, terrorists demonstrate agility by leveraging these normative changes. Protean power exposes the state’s inadequacy in providing an expansive security blanket and results in the erosion of people’s trust in their government. Terrorists expect states to ultimately understand the futility of their counterterrorism efforts and comply with terrorists’ demands.Footnote 8

The impact of states’ control power is further weakened when terrorist groups manage to shift the public discourse from the illegitimacy of their actions to a comparison between states’ morality and terrorist practices. Such efforts are aided – unintentionally rather than by terrorist groups’ design – by self-interested state leaders who exploit the illegitimacy associated with the term terrorists to label their opponents (including human-rights activists) as such. When accusations of terrorism are bandied about freely, they become less credible and may even normalize terrorism.

States are trying to readjust domestic and international law to revitalize their control power and open a new space for anti-terrorist action. This process is slow and difficult. In many countries, especially in the West, it involves contesting established norms regarding the relations between states and their citizenry, as well as the balance between security and personal freedoms. States’ responses to terrorism raise serious questions about the nature of the social contract that delineates what states owe their people, and the limits of legitimate state rights to reduce personal freedoms. Terrorists exploit the ambiguity and uncertainty that characterize states’ scramble to find an answer to terrorism, as well as the time it takes for new norms to take hold. American overreach following 9/11 proved to be particularly useful for recruiting individuals to join the jihadi cause.Footnote 9 Although the United States and the international community have been trying to recalibrate their response to jihadi terrorism and make more measured adjustments of international law to allow for fighting terrorism while preserving personal freedoms, the damage done by the initial overreaction – in particular, the launching of expansive, costly, and unwinnable wars based on shaky legal foundations – has not been easily undone.

And yet terrorists are hardly the masterminds that the media portrays. They tend to exaggerate both states’ weakness and their own prowess (or the appeal of their cause). While demonstrating agility in turning rules of international society against its members, terrorists are confronted with the uncomfortable reality that the working of protean power is unpredictable and often results in changes that could undermine their own objectives. Indeed, rather than the high level of interstate tensions al-Qaeda expected, post-9/11 counterterrorism featured greater cooperation and even a revolutionary attempt to revamp the state-based order, including the start or acceleration of regulating spheres of activity that they had largely avoided.Footnote 10

Despite the task’s broad scope, in the financial sphere, for example, cooperation among states managed to cut down terrorist funds. Agile groups, however, still find ways to subvert the rules. Kidnapping for ransom is a particularly effective terrorist response, with Western states facing a difficult dilemma: when they pay millions of dollars for the release of their citizens, they finance the same groups they fight and subvert their own rules. But when states refuse and the terrorists gruesomely execute the hostages, often in front of cameras, these states face accusations that they have abandoned their people. Moreover, as states pursue different policies – the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom refuse to pay ransoms, whereas most European countries pay them – terrorists increase friction between allies.

The structural advantage of states is perhaps the greatest detriment with which terrorist groups must contend. States’ control power does not stem merely from their superior capabilities, but also from their primacy among the various political entities populating the international system. By defining international order as state-based and assuming the role of international society’s gatekeepers, states assume exclusive rights that non-state actors lack, thus weakening the ability of the latter to attain authority on their own terms.

States’ ideational hegemony extends to the question of legitimate use of force. Through law and discourse, states reserve the right to use coercive means while denying it to non-state actors, consequently crippling non-state actors’ ability to confront states on an equal footing. International law narrows legitimate non-state violence to resistance against occupation. Meanwhile, states delegitimize non-state violence by largely exempting themselves from the term terrorism and by labeling armed non-state actors as terrorists even though many – including Jabhat Fath al-Sham (previously known as Jabhat al-Nusra) in Syria and al-Qaeda’s branches in Yemen and Somalia – are primarily insurgent groups, a term with more positive connotations. Even when armed non-state actors manage to gain control over a territory and govern it (e.g., the Taliban in Afghanistan 1996–2001 and Islamic State since 2014), their viability often depends on international acceptance, which in turn requires these actors to submit to the norms guiding the Westphalian order.

The combined effect of states’ material advantage and ideational hegemony over non-state violence is that even when non-state actors decide to challenge states, they usually accept the dominance of the state-based order and ultimately seek to become states and join the international society. A byproduct of these limited aspirations is self-imposed limitations on terrorist groups’ violence as they balance conflicting needs: unauthorized violence advances coercion, but respect for norms – such as the prohibition on using WMDs – is necessary to gain international legitimacy.Footnote 11

Thus, although terrorist groups aptly expose the tensions inherent to the operation of states when facing terrorists, utilizing radical uncertainty to undermine states’ legitimacy, they often succumb to the structural strengths of international society and its state components; as they get closer to attaining their most common objectives – independence or capturing state power – they become increasingly vulnerable to the socializing power of international society and pressured to accommodate states’ demands. Indeed, protean power has its limits; legitimate and viable membership of international society means a greater need to experience the world as one of risk, and greater susceptibility to the coercive power of other states.

Religion and the Production of Certainty

Uncertainty also has an emotive element. Actors design plans to advance their interests in a highly complex social environment, but they also look to satisfy psychological needs for some control over their environment. To overcome “fundamental uncertainty,” and a threat to one’s ontological security, actors might respond with exaggerated certainty.Footnote 12 Terrorist groups try to mitigate uncertainty’s negative psychological effects. The coping mechanisms they develop to allow them to operate despite forbidding odds simultaneously amplify the anxiety of their enemies’ populations. The language of religion is particularly effective for such a dual use, boosting members’ and potential recruits’ confidence while reinforcing an image of uncompromising zeal that terrifies their foes. Religious discourse uniquely challenges states: limited in their ability to control the message or identify those likely to succumb to it, states utilize multiple channels without ever knowing to what extent their efforts were successful. The decentralized nature of religious authority in Islam further weakens states’ control efforts.

Terrorists, Religion, and Certainty

Terrorists seek to magnify their foes’ radical and operational uncertainty, but the effectiveness of their actions depends on the ways in which states and individuals experience uncertainty psychologically. The same is true for the terrorists themselves; already disadvantaged in a world of risk, they experience the adverse effects of uncertainty as well. To facilitate their continued operation – attract and retain members – they must resolve the challenge. Given that the odds are against them, fictitious translation of uncertainty to risk is insufficient. Instead, they aspire to a sense of certainty. Ideological beliefs are a common means for reducing uncertainty, but religion, with its appeal to a higher all-knowing authority, is uniquely suited to overcoming the psychological effects of uncertaintyFootnote 13 by replacing it with certainty.Footnote 14

Religious beliefs address psychological needs by mitigating the fear of death.Footnote 15 They also reassure terrorists – the group and its members – that their cause is just and that eventual success is guaranteed. In this way, religion strengthens terrorists’ resilience: they can accept distant time horizons and escape the demoralizing effects of defeats. Meanwhile, they send enemies the message that because jihadis love death more than their rivals love life, resistance is futile, as the dead are quickly replaced by others who long for the afterlife. Religion is particularly important for those jihadi groups seeking to re-make the world order, by casting the division of the world into states as illegitimate in the eyes of God and, perhaps more importantly, by providing ways to reconcile the ambitious agendas of these groups with their meager capabilities.

The role of religion encapsulates the complex interaction between the worlds of risk and uncertainty. Terrorist leaders can use religion strategically to enhance their control power. They rely on religion to mobilize followers and to create a focal point guiding and controlling members’ actions. Because protean power can take one only so far, both al-Qaeda and ISIS believed that they need the masses to realize their plans to fully restore the caliphate – an objective associated with control power.

Jihadi groups turn to the Quran and oral traditions to persuade their constituency that they are fulfilling a religious duty, countering the risk of one’s life and the unattractiveness of joining a group weaker than its foe. Muslims are not called to fight for mundane purposes such as material gains, rather, their fight is jihad and as such a form of great worship. Because jihad is not recognized among the five pillars of Islam (Shahada, prayer, charity, fasting, and Hajj), jihadis have long sought to elevate its status to attract more volunteers.Footnote 16 Some have even portrayed jihad as a sixth pillar,Footnote 17 and ISIS has taken the additional step of claiming that there is no act of worship equal to jihad.Footnote 18

Yet religion serves as more than a cause for mobilization. It enables jihadi terrorist groups to shape followers’ experience as one of certainty, promising inevitable personal gains. The fighter is assured that there is no risk in jihad, only positive outcomes: victory or martyrdom. Jihadis try to persuade potential volunteers that fighting is desirable even if they will lose their lives. Death is presented not as a price one pays but, rather, as an event that comes with great rewards.Footnote 19 Jihad death is not the prosaic act of passing from this world but the heroic act of expressing one’s devotion to God. Biological death is thus transfigured into divine martyrdom; it erases past sins and guarantees a place in paradise and the ability to intercede before God on behalf of family members. Jihadis also repeatedly remind Muslims that the afterlife is eternal, whereas life on earth is only momentary.Footnote 20

The conviction that they are fulfilling God’s wishes also helps all ranks of religious terrorist groups to confront the demoralizing condition of isolation. Operatives are assured that they should not worry about popular negative responses. Following divine orders is important; pleasing people who fail to follow God’s way is not.Footnote 21 Members of jihadi groups who see how even fellow Muslims strongly oppose them are told that popular opinion should not bother them. Because Islamic traditions claim that one small sect from God’s believers will remain loyal when all others turn from his commands, the small number of jihadis transforms from a sign of weakness to confirmation that they are the righteous ones who will emerge victorious.Footnote 22

However, attempts to produce certainty also have downsides. As they praise the virtues of martyrdom, leaders may witness members exercising individual (and at times flawed) judgment that undermine a group’s political objectives. Reflecting on the war against the Soviets in Afghanistan, Mustafa Hamid, a prominent jihadi veteran, has argued that the quest to become a Shahid (martyr) can come at the expense of strategic planning to achieve victory on the battlefield. In an example of how micro-level action can have macro-level consequences, he criticized the inclination of many volunteers to simply seek death rather than use their death to promote battle objectives.Footnote 23 At other times, lone wolves, self-starting cells, or simply undisciplined operatives might focus on martyrdom instead of its desired political effects. Acts of martyrdom could even harm the terrorists’ cause; instances of killing innocent Muslims, such as the Amman bombing (2005), led to reduced support in the Arab world for al-Qaeda’s cause and the tactic of suicide bombing.Footnote 24

Sometimes terrorist leaders’ own beliefs about the inevitability of victory cripple terrorist efforts. Because religious terrorist groups attribute the outcome of the fight to the will of God, leaders can easily explain away failure in battle. Such an attitude could boost actors’ resilience by assisting them in coping with defeats. As ISIS spokesman Abu Muhammad al-Adnani clarifies, God did not promise those fighting in his name victory on all occasions. In fact, God ordained that days of victory and defeat alternate. Defeats are tests for those loyal to God. Although setbacks are inevitable, the victory of Allah’s servants is predetermined.Footnote 25 However, the belief in ultimate victory is counterproductive when it leads jihadis to move ahead with their plans without presenting a fully developed causal theory of war outcomes or seriously considering the implications of material power imbalances. Additionally, a sense of certainty is likely to undermine actors’ interest in learning from mistakes. Thus, jihadi terrorists are particularly prone to enter confrontations without a solid strategic foundation. In such cases, states are likely to be surprised by the initiation of terror campaigns but also able to successfully thwart the terrorists’ goals.

Responding to Religious Certainty

Religion is not a given, it is interpreted, and as such open to discursive contestation, the realm of radical uncertainty, and protean power. Terrorists seek to legitimize their religious interpretation while confronting other claimants for religious authority, some of which hold considerable material, institutional, and ideational resources in another meeting of control and protean power.

Confronting terrorist actors holding strong religious convictions is challenging and often requires confronting their religious message head-on. Such efforts are particularly difficult because states appeals are directed at a faceless audience rather than specifically targeted individuals; Muslim states may dissuade most people from joining jihadi groups, but even a small minority could have a tremendous impact, and states are usually unable to identify those pockets of resistance early enough. Additionally, the decentralized nature of Islamic authority empowers radicals and defies states’ control efforts.

Secular countries are unlikely to persuade religious terrorists that their group misrepresents their religion. However, countries in which religion plays a central role, while more vulnerable to the allure of religious terrorism, are also better positioned to confront it because their delegitimation of terrorists’ religious narrative is perceived as more authentic. Importantly, these states can use religious institutions under their control to condemn the terrorists and declare that they have the “correct” understanding, whereas the terrorists distort the religion. For example, to reduce the danger of recruitment by firebrand preachers, Muslim states have tightened their supervision of mosque imams, requiring preachers to undergo special training focused on moderate versions of Islam, dictating sermon content, and spying on preachers to assure their compliance.Footnote 26

But these attempts at control have their limits, sometimes simply pushing jihadis’ recruitment underground. Ultimately, states’ measures involve a high level of uncertainty as they compete with the jihadis over a largely faceless audience sitting in front of their computer screens. The jihadis seek to mobilize this audience to action, whereas states wish to keep them loyal to state authorities and the official versions of Islam they promote. States have no way to truly assess the effectiveness of their efforts; after all, success is manifested in keeping people away from radical groups – that is, in a non-event.

De-radicalization programs to change the position of jihadi terrorists are somewhat easier to evaluate. In these programs – established in Saudi Arabia, Malaysia, Yemen, and elsewhere – jailed terrorists deemed to be reformable engage in direct dialogue with Islamic scholars who “correct” the prisoners’ understandings of Islam. The state also presents important inducements to reformed radicals, including early release (often under the supervision of the terrorist’s family, in an attempt to increase his commitment to the deal with the state), financial support, vocational training, and even assistance in finding wives.Footnote 27 In such programs, states rely on risk assessment before they graduate participants and release them, but even low rates of recidivism could result in devastating terrorist attacks that, in turn, undermine public support and, as in the Yemeni case, cripple the whole program.

Recantations by former jihadis are another tool to undercut jihadism’s appeal. Over the past two decades, imprisoned jihadi leaders from the Egyptian Gama’a Islamiya, the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, and the Southeast Asian Jema’a Islamiya have published numerous books articulating their revised position regarding the Islamic legality of their past terrorist activities. In addition to explaining why it is wrong to assassinate Muslim rulers, target foreign tourists, and kill ordinary people, they criticized al-Qaeda and other groups.Footnote 28 Al-Qaeda tried to dismiss these works as coerced and part of deals to mitigate prisoners’ suffering, rather than as sincere reflections. Nevertheless, at times it was so troubled by these works that its leaders intensely sought to refute them.Footnote 29

States’ efforts to contest the extremist messages of groups such as ISIS were often ineffective. A video titled “Welcome to ISIS Land,” produced by the US State Department’s Center for Strategic Counterterrorism Communications, sought to counter the caliphate’s self-portrayal as a haven for devout Muslims by showing its brutality and challenging the worthiness of its cause. Although it had close to a million views on YouTube, scholars and practitioners doubted its usefulness and even warned that it could actually appeal to ISIS supporters.Footnote 30

The lack of clear religious hierarchy in Islam (in contrast to, for instance, Catholicism) further complicates countering the jihadi message. States experience heightened uncertainty, struggling to identify both a persuasive anti-jihadi message, and Islamic scholars who would be viewed as its legitimate and reliable conveyers. Islamic universities such as Egypt’s al-Azhar and positions such as the Saudi Grand Mufti accrued considerable influence over the years, but they do not have ultimate authority and their ability to reach young Muslims is limited. Jihadis enhance this uncertainty with concerted efforts to challenge the authority of the state-sponsored ulama’ (Islamic scholars), and labeling them as collaborators of un-Islamic apostate rulers.

The accelerated erosion and fragmentation of Islamic authority following the revolution in communications technology and the rise of social media is adding further complexity. No one actor could control information and completely suppress undesirable views. Moreover, new claimants of religious authority utilize widely available platforms and reach vast audiences far beyond the areas where they live. The result has been a remarkable opening of the market for interpreting Islam. The new platforms seem to particularly favor virulent and extreme voices that can offer their followers easy-to-understand messages (preferably in 140 characters). A new class of jihadi scholars, many with little religious training but with charisma and great oratory skills, is overshadowing not only mainstream scholars but also jihadi old-guard scholars. Agile actors such as the Islamic State exploit the new landscape, while old-school scholars struggle to capture the imagination of a young, frustrated generation of Muslims. In this context even prominent jihadi scholars such as the Jordanian Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi and Abu Qatada al-Filistini, who try to dissuade young Muslims from adopting the ultra-radical ISIS version of Islam, struggle to assert their authority.Footnote 31

Improvisation, Agility, and Operational Uncertainty

Whereas terrorists’ strategic logic involves the exploitation of radical uncertainty, in their tactics they harness operational uncertainty – the de facto unknown unknowns. Agile terrorist groups improvise, developing tactics such as suicide bombing and lone-wolf attacks that rely on the inevitable limitations of states’ control. They also subvert and repurpose originally benign tools such as Facebook and Twitter for predatory purposes, recruiting members, promoting violence, and spreading fear.

Terrorism, Tactical Improvisation, and Social Media

Suicide bombing and lone-wolf attacks are two principal examples of how terrorists respond to and publicly expose the futility of states’ control efforts. Both tactics are extremely hard to defend against due to inherent operational uncertainty: states may be on high alert for terrorist threats, but they are unable to disarm bombers wearing suicide vests or to identify individuals without direct organizational links before they go on a killing spree. Furthermore, by directing operatives to attack “soft targets,” terrorists force states to defend an incalculable number of targets. When states inevitably fail – no matter how successful they were previously – terrorists reveal their inability to provide citizens absolute security.

Suicide bombing turns perpetrators into “smart bombs” able to insert themselves in the middle of civilians and produce a high number of fatalities. Because almost any individual can become a suicide bomber with little training, and because suicide bombers view their actions as altruistic self-sacrifice and are knowingly and happily going to their deaths, identifying bombers in time and thwarting such attacks is extremely difficult. Indeed, suicide bombing has proven to be an effective fighting tool, causing more deaths than unmanned bombsFootnote 32 and terrorizing foreign occupiers into compliance.Footnote 33 The use of suicide bombers strengthens terrorists’ claims that their foes are fighting an unwinnable war; bombers’ quest for martyrdom prevents states from maintaining security.

Lone-wolf attacks are another manifestation of protean power, based on the belief that the aggregation of uncoordinated autonomous acts can produce strategic effects. Such attacks are a form of swarming: the group does not need to plan all terrorist attacks or even know the perpetrators. Instead, it encourages individuals to attack on their own.

Al-Qaeda has long called for lone-wolf operations but has been largely unsuccessful. Its interest in “leaderless jihad” stemmed from post-9/11 operational constraints, drawing on the ubiquity of the Internet and the innovative thinking of Abu Musab al-Suri and his book The Call for a Global Islamic Resistance.Footnote 34 Military action and crackdowns led al-Qaeda to envision completely disconnected, invisible, infinite task forces, each responsible for the part of the mission for which it is best equipped. The realization of this vision required training, but since bombing drove al-Qaeda from its Afghanistan safe haven and training camps, the organization sought to reconstitute them in cyberspace. Using the Internet, it disseminates training manuals and instructs followers on how to carry out attacks. The Saudi branch of al-Qaeda even designated a journal, Mu’askar al-Battar, as a virtual training camp. In another example, its Yemeni branch’s Inspire magazine included instructional articles such as “How to make a bomb in the kitchen of your mom.”Footnote 35

Nevertheless, centralized dissemination of information is susceptible to disruption. The next logical step, therefore, was to decentralize knowledge-sharing. Al-Qaeda calls on individuals to use the vast information available online to identify material and instructions that will facilitate assembling explosives, producing toxins, forging documents, building jamming devices, and other activities that utilize rudimentary dual-use, widely available material (such as car parts, gardening equipment, plumbing tools, building material and other hardware). Once information and material are gathered, volunteers are asked to record an instructional video, presentation, or document and upload it online to provide others throughout the world (particularly non-specialists) with access to basic how-to knowledge, and, through comparison, to “best practices.” Sympathizers are also urged to share information about enemy weaknesses and how to exploit them. Indeed, participants on jihadi forums often raise ideas for attacks based on perceived Western weak spots.Footnote 36

Despite its calls for lone-wolf attacks, al-Qaeda appears more comfortable encouraging its supporters to assist in propagating the jihadi message. It empowers sympathizers by assuring them that with even limited technological knowledge they can “change history right there from your home town, under the cool air of your air-conditioner, safe and sound away from any danger or fear.”Footnote 37 The media warriors would collect statistics about “America’s filth” to remind Americans “how evil and disgusting they are and why the mujahideen will do anything to kick them out from the Muslim lands.” They would also prepare statistics on the “crimes” the United States had committed throughout its history, and American servitude to the banks and the lobbyists (particularly the Israeli lobby). Muslims too should be targets for independent propaganda efforts, encouraged through simple messages to help their brethren and join jihad. These media efforts should be customized to the language and norms in each target country and spread through all media platforms available, including Facebook, Twitter, and blogs.Footnote 38

Al-Qaeda’s ambivalence regarding lone wolves might be the result of its bitter experience with rogue agents. The indiscriminate violence of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the leader of al-Qaeda’s Iraqi branch until his death in 2006 and the forefather of ISIS, harmed al-Qaeda’s brand and taught the group’s central leadership a valuable lesson about the hazards of uncontrollable agents: an effective decentralized campaign of terrorism requires its leaders to first articulate clear guidelines to insure that its followers’ attacks are in line with the group’s strategic plan, and that their actions will not end up backfiring. Indeed, in 2013, Ayman al-Zawahiri introduced a document titled “General guidelines for jihad,” although these guidelines hardly guarantee that agents will acknowledge the boundaries of “useful” violence.Footnote 39

In comparison, ISIS is less apprehensive of agents’ overreach, because it has few qualms about the use of indiscriminate violence. Moreover, whereas al-Qaeda promotes selective targeting, the Islamic State embraces and encourages extreme and indiscriminate brutality against the West, Shia, and even other Sunni jihadi groups. If inflicting pain is the only thing that matters, control is unnecessary as any lone-wolf attack could be a valuable contribution. The group does not worry about the psychological reasons that drove some of those who answered its call, or how well they fit its ideal model of Islamic behavior. The only thing ISIS asks from lone wolves is that they leave behind a message (such as a Facebook status update or YouTube video) paying homage to the group and its self-styled caliph Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi.

The Islamic State seeks to produce a self-sustaining dynamic in which one lone-wolf attack inspires other individuals to carry out their own operations, thus making the fight less dependent on the activities of ISIS itself. Although it has inspired such attacks throughout the globe (including the United States, Germany, France, Australia, and Canada) they are still relatively uncommon and have failed to generate the momentum that would turn them from isolated events into a strategic threat. ISIS has been more successful in using lone-wolf attacks to amplify societal cleavages. ISIS wants to erase the “gray zone” and create a clear division between friends (Muslims) and enemies (non-Muslims).Footnote 40 By persuading Muslims to abandon their national identity for its version of Islamic identity and to attack the society in which they live, ISIS is feeding doubts regarding the loyalty of Muslims to their states of residence and respective societies. And yet growing suspicion and even outright hostility toward Muslims, over which states have only limited influence, has yet to produce clear radicalization among Muslims, which would then lead to further terrorist attacks.

Terrorists’ agility is also apparent in their use of social media. They embrace platforms such as YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter while repurposing them for malignant use. Such platforms enable the bypassing of traditional media channels with their restrictions on the presentation of graphic violence, limits on time allocated to each news item, and other editorial considerations. They can disseminate information and propaganda independently. Al-Shabab’s attack on the Kenyan Westgate shopping mall was even live-tweeted by the perpetrators, adding to the drama and terror.Footnote 41

ISIS is particularly adept at utilizing social media. It produces numerous videos and magazines in several languages, and distributes them independently online, sometimes reaching an audience far greater than it would have had it relied on TV stations. The organization also uses manipulation to increase the visibility of its message. For example, it uses twitter bots to amplify the effectiveness of tweets, so that a tweet is retweeted automatically and at specifically tailored intervals in order to make it trend. The message then reaches a broader audience and strengthens the sense of ISIS’s omnipresence.Footnote 42 Co-opting hashtags (e.g., the hashtags for the World Cup games #Brazil2014 and #WC2014) extends ISIS’s reach.Footnote 43 ISIS also uses social media in a more targeted way, trying to reach out to individuals and, through online interaction, recruit them to come to its “caliphate” or to carry out terrorist attacks in their country of residence.Footnote 44

Agility and Improvisation in Counterterrorism

States have invested vast resources in counterterrorism in recent years, with technological developments boosting their control power. Drones, for example, have become a prominent counterterrorism tool for both surveillance and targeted killing. Technological innovations also enhance states’ ability to guard their borders.Footnote 45 Radical content online is closely monitored, and, notwithstanding legal limitations, electronic surveillance is rampant. The United States compelled (or went around) tech companies to make their data available for government investigations, seeking “back doors” into their programs and forcefully discouraging them from offering the public encryption programs that protect from state surveillance.Footnote 46 It was only after the Snowden leak revealed the extent of American online spying that the government began facing pressure to constrain its online surveillance.

States are gleaning information about radicalized youth who are looking to join terrorist groups by combing through Facebook statuses. They also collect intelligence about individuals who have reached jihad arenas and the arenas themselves by examining Facebook pages, Instagram pictures, and YouTube videos. Technological advancements allow the bringing together of huge amounts of information, while computing helps to make sense of the collected intelligence. Network analysis, for example, enables states to identify clusters of terrorist supporters and routes to join jihadis in conflict zones.

States also embrace protean power. Creatively, they improvise and innovate in an attempt to generate favorable effects. However, hierarchical structures and bureaucratic rigidness sometimes undermine their ability to steal from the playbook of their agile non-state enemies. Countering terrorists’ narratives, for example, is an objective that practitioners endorse yet struggle to implement for many reasons, including the danger that engaging terrorist claims would lend legitimacy to terrorist groups, and the need to quickly cut through bureaucratic hurdles to provide immediate responses to jihadis’ messages.Footnote 47

States achieve greater success in their attempts to magnify and exploit the uncertainty that terrorists face. Intelligence agencies have become adept at turning Internet forums into a source of information about the identities of jihadis, their ideology, and even internal debates. In lightly moderated forums, intelligence agents, using assumed identities, were able to confront radical messages. In more restricted password-protected forums, states utilized their superior technological capabilities to become privy to members’ discussions, expose their locations and identities, and even attempt to sow discord among forum participants. Because such engagements happen in cyberspace, penetrating jihadi circles has become both easier and safer for state agents. States also tried to erode users’ confidence and inflame relations between participants of different forums by temporarily shutting down some forums and not others and by spreading rumors of penetration.Footnote 48 These successes reached their limit as terrorist groups largely abandoned the forums and shifted to social media and to direct communication through encrypted messaging platforms (primarily, Telegram).

However, the expansion of the Islamic State’s manpower presented states with the opportunity to plant spies in its ranks. The fear of spies, magnified as the group started suffering defeats, is fomenting internal divisions and even leading to purges. As a result, foreign fighters that are loyal to ISIS nevertheless end up defecting to save themselves from their suspicious and ruthless fellow ISIS members.Footnote 49

How protean power circulates across different levels of analysis can be seen in the creation of new private actors dedicated to combatting terrorism. Many such actors operate out in the open and in the bounds of the law. Others, however, work in the shadows and their actions sometimes violate state laws. Although such empowered actors could undermine some states’ counterterrorism efforts, they can take actions that states avoid due to political and legal considerations. Shortly after 9/11, an operator of gambling and sex websites took advantage of al-Qaeda’s failure to re-register the domain name of its website al-nida.com to snatch it and replace its content with a picture of an American flag. This move was consequential: al-Qaeda responded by piggybacking unsuspicious websites and putting its content in their back pages, before later moving on to relying on chat rooms as the next generation of online jihad.

The London-based International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation and Political Violence has been at the forefront of private efforts to identify European foreign fighters. In another case, the hacktivist group Anonymous declared war on ISIS and launched a campaign to identify and report (to intelligence agencies’ chagrin) ISIS-linked Twitter accounts.Footnote 50 Hacktivists also take a more direct approach, identifying websites, blogs, videos, and social media accounts and disrupting them through denial-of-service attacks.Footnote 51 Naturally, the most important private actors to impact counterterrorism online are the social media companies, primarily Twitter, Facebook, and Google (which owns YouTube). Driven primarily by financial considerations, they interact with governments and provide information to intelligence agencies. Moreover, they design policies regarding prohibited content and take down the accounts of suspected terrorists and terrorist groups, as well as their material.

A comprehensive and persistent campaign by Twitter to take down radical accounts has significantly limited the reach of ISIS propaganda.Footnote 52 In response, many ISIS sympathizers transitioned to Telegram, which has weaker terms of use and stronger encryption. Although Telegram provides jihadis a safe haven in cyberspace, ISIS leaders are calling on followers to return to Twitter.Footnote 53 The suspension of accounts makes retaining followers an onerous task, but giving up on that platform means abandoning the efforts to mobilize new crowds. As long as most of the individuals whom ISIS wishes to mobilize stick to Facebook and Twitter – a trend over which jihadis have very little control – the group must stay there.

The recent wave of Palestinian terror attacks and Israeli reactions to it exemplifies the unpredictable and often negative effects of this new class of counterterrorist actors. In response to knife attacks by young lone-wolf Palestinian terrorists, most acting on their own initiative, Israeli leaders called on their people to assist in neutralizing attackers. Civilians’ responsiveness created an awkward situation in which the state is outsourcing the provision of security to individuals it does not know before they take action. Moreover, empowered and often undertrained Israelis, fearful of any Palestinian-looking individual, ended up killing instead of subduing attackers and, consequently, further inflaming the atmosphere. Discrimination and sometimes outright violence directed at Israeli-Arabs amplified tensions within Israeli society. Additionally, cases of mis-identification led to the lynching and shooting of innocent Israeli residents. It is a cautionary tale for the way enhancing state capabilities through broad mobilization of the public could backfire; terrorists can be stopped faster, but the strengthening of a state’s capabilities could enhance uncertainty and produce unanticipated dynamics that might result in increased motivation to commit terrorism as well as the amplification of societal and racial cleavages.

Conclusion

Terrorism could be understood as a creative resistance to the control power of the state. On the face of it, terrorists are better equipped to exploit uncertainty than their state opponents. State legitimacy strongly depends on its ability to demonstrate control, predictability, and accountability. No wonder it prefers to view the world through the lens of risk. But such inclination is a source of weakness given the prevalence of uncertainty. States might try to address this uncertainty by planning for the worst-case scenario and throwing resources at the problem, implicitly translating uncertainty into risk. As it is impossible to show that a particular means used was successful or not, such a damaging dynamic could continue for a long time, costing the state considerable resources without necessarily making it safer. Ultimately, states repeatedly fall into the trap of terrorists who expose control power’s limitations.

Notwithstanding the greater agility of terrorist groups, they are confronted with the fact that protean power is very hard to control. As a result, protean power can become a double-edged sword, manifesting in unanticipated and undesirable effects (in the eyes of those harnessing uncertainty). Furthermore, terrorists’ agility does not guarantee success. Terrorist groups can survive online by jumping between different social media platforms, thus defying control attempts. But Telegram allows them to only communicate with each other or post their propaganda; it does not offer channels to the much broader Muslim audience whom ISIS must mobilize if it is to attain its objectives. As long as most young Muslims stick to platforms that do not tolerate ISIS, it must fight to stay on Facebook and Twitter.

Even more problematic from the terrorists’ perspective is the fact that most of them seek control power and thus must still grapple with their weaker material capabilities. It appears that protean power is more meaningful as an effect of subversion, designed to undermine local and international order. But when terrorist groups seek to establish their preferred order, it is the logic of control power that dominates. In fact, the greater the trappings of a state that terrorist groups attain, the less relevant their ability to negotiate protean power and the more vulnerable they become to their enemies’ control power. This could explain how terrorists can wreak havoc yet still often fail to achieve their political objectives.

The turmoil in the Middle East is a testament to states’ struggles to handle flaws and internal contradictions at the heart of the international system. The Arab revolutions involved great uncertainty from the start as individuals took to the streets long before they could enjoy the safety of numbers. But this was only the beginning of the story as the toppling of regimes further enhanced an already pervasive uncertainty. The regional system is in flux as control power diminishes and greater space for protean power opens. Regimes throughout the region have been unable to re-establish control power, but are also ill-equipped to harness uncertainty. Whether due to the sovereignty norms, fears of entanglement, or the complexity of recreating functioning states that could provide their people security and other services, members of international society appear unable to find a solution to the chaotic aftermath of the revolutions. In contrast, jihadi groups, who thrive in this chaos and benefit from exacerbating it, have been quick to capitalize on the uncertainty and fill political and security vacuums. But the loss of territories that ISIS and al-Qaeda had controlled in Iraq, Syria, Yemen, and Libya show that as long as terrorist groups keep looking to achieve control at the expense of others, they will find that, like their state enemies, they also are vulnerable to both control and protean power.

10 Slumdog versus Superman: Uncertainty, Innovation, and the Circulation of Powerin the Global Film Industry

Lucia A. Seybert , Stephen C. Nelson , and Peter J. Katzenstein Footnote 1

You know Hollywood, you are likely familiar with India’s Bollywood, and you may have heard of Nigeria’s Nollywood. There is also Chollywood in China, Wellywood in New Zealand, Lollywood in both Pakistan and Liberia, and several more in Africa. Such labeling of regional film industries reveals more than an attempt at a catchy gimmick. The reference to Hollywood in all these cases is clear, but so is the alternative desire to produce films that the Los Angeles-based studios are unable or unlikely to offer. Similar reinvention efforts have rebalancing consequences for the film industry, often beyond what their initiators intended. Each of the many “woods” caters to diverse tastes, some more and some less specific than those of Hollywood’s traditional target viewers. Most importantly, non-Hollywood film production undermines the pretense of control over cultural templates and meanings that move global audiences and even pushes traditionally powerful actors to abandon the assumptions of calculability. The underdogs of the movie world introduce a decisive degree of fluidity to cultural, economic, and political competition. They thrive on the uncertainty that incumbent Hollywood seeks to reign in, although they are not themselves immune to unexpected challenges at the next creative turn.

The quintessential underdog story that both emerged from and symbolized such ongoing power shifts was the Oscar triumph of Slumdog Millionaire (2008). Audiences around the world found themselves cheering for protagonists in the Mumbai story of unlikely success. Slumdog Millionaire, directed by a British director, based on a book by an Indian author, tapping international production talent, and featuring local actors also reveals boundary-blurring trends in moviemaking that provide opportunities for capitalizing on high levels of uncertainty. Power need not come from a single center and flow in one direction only. In fact, we should differentiate between an order that is made and one which forms itself as a result of apparent regularities and their reconfiguration.Footnote 2 Slumdog Millionaire illustrates the role of geographically and culturally dispersed activity in enhancing innovation, adaptation, networking of international talent and, ultimately, power.Footnote 3

What our account employing the concept of protean power captures is that seemingly stable systems can be reconfigured quickly through decentralized innovative moves.Footnote 4 Such changes turn the tables and send challenged leaders scrambling to restore their primacy. Their search for full control, however, may be illusory. Outcomes in such struggles are unpredictable. Analytical quandaries of how to explain and interpret shifting constellations of international power emerge with great regularity. The theoretical framing of this book calls for an additional vantage point for examining power dynamics. Other contributions to this volume aptly illustrate that all too often power does not inhere in the measurable attributes of the actors wielding it. Rather, it rests in the dynamic interactions between the controlling and the controlled.

Without wishing to diminish in any way the importance of control power, we highlight the explanatory significance of protean power. It is diffuse in its effects and lacks an identifiable core as it operates from multiple, often uncoordinated sites. Ultimately, this power can enhance political conformity and social stability while also engendering political innovation and social change. Protean power links actors and networks with distinctive discursive structures. It comes into effect through creative individual or collective actions that tap into the distinctive capacities of and relationships among dispersed actors that do not necessarily mirror the apparent distribution of control power or the propensity to use it.

We explore the dynamics of protean power in a heuristic case study, the AmericanFootnote 5 film industry. At the nexus of commerce and culture,Footnote 6 its political and cultural significance make it an important subject for social science analysis.Footnote 7 Are a small number of capitalist and cultural entrepreneurs located at the center of the American movie and media industry controlling the world with films infused by American ideas, norms, and values? Or are foreign governments, producers, directors, and audiences developing effective strategies to circumvent, adapt to, and innovate around American control? The first question is indebted to theories of cultural imperialism with a long pedigree in Marxist theory; the second to contemporary discussions of cultural and economic power. Yet, rather than operating like ships passing at night, control and protean power typically are interacting and co-evolve. Control power of American producers and directors aims at foreseeable consequences that is often undermined by creativity and innovation, characteristic hallmarks of protean power coursing through global viewing publics and non-American film producers.

Although the American film industry enjoys a position of unrivalled primacy in global markets, this does not diminish the radical uncertainty it faces when releasing its movies. This uncertainty stems from unattainable knowledge about the changing circumstances that encompass much more than just audience tastes. In a global marketplace the need for rapid adaptation to such change is greatly facilitated by decentralization.Footnote 8 Innovation and improvisation are bypassing rather than controlling uncertainty. At the same time, the fluidity of relations between actor experiences and the context in which they operate alters the nature of the underlying uncertainty further, making it important to examine the link between culture, markets and power.

Deploying Control Power By and Against Hollywood

To talk about power and culture is a subject fraught with difficulties. Josef Goebbels reportedly reached for his gun when he heard the word culture. The philosopher Slavoj Žižek reaches instead for culture when he hears the word gun.Footnote 9 Political philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah uses less martial imagery but also conveys the challenge of working with the concept: “It’s reached the point,” he writes, “that when you hear the word ‘culture,’ you reach for your dictionary.”Footnote 10

Compulsion, institutions, and structures are three different faces of control power. Compulsion occurs in relations of direct interaction of control by one actor over another. Institutional power is found in the control that actors exercise indirectly over others, including through controlling the process of agenda-setting in various institutions.Footnote 11 Structural power affects directly both the context and the conduct of actors.Footnote 12 It often entails its opposite, structural uncertainty, which frequently makes it difficult to translate successfully policy intentions into action with predictable consequences. Structural power in no way guarantees success. Hollywood’s all-too-many failed or middling movies show this clearly.Footnote 13 This section focuses on historical episodes of control power deployment by the American film industry, with particular attention to why such strategies would have seemed viable and the reasons why they ultimately proved to be inadequate.

In the 1920s and 1930s, Hollywood gained the upper hand over its competitors by standardizing film production through the adoption of more capital-intensive technologies aiming at greater economies of scale. Brand loyalties flourished together with the star system and the ever-widening appeal of the nascent Hollywood studio complex’s products.Footnote 14 Regional concentration and later subcontracting in and around Los Angeles were efficient “for an industry where standardization is important to keep costs down, but innovation remains critical as a hook for audiences.”Footnote 15 The production complex that had emerged in California during the 1920s and 1930s was thus well positioned for extending its reach nationally and internationally.Footnote 16 The high cost of producing movies generated an advantage for established players in both production and promotion.Footnote 17 This advantage was reinforced further by American dominance over channels of distribution.Footnote 18 Taken together these added up to a powerful structural advantage of American moviemakers.Footnote 19

In the annals of the history of movies, compulsion plays a role in times of war and postwar reconstruction. Before the Second World War the German movie industry dominated European markets and Josef Goebbels built on that strength to construct an imposing propaganda machinery. In the midst of the Second World War American movie moguls planned, with the active support of different branches of the US government, to establish European markets freed from German, though not American, influence. According to Geoffrey Nowell-Smith this was little more than “a cover for obstructing the revival of any [European] film industry.”Footnote 20 Since film was an essential tool of the government’s de-Nazification campaign, government and industry were engaged in a relationship of competitive cooperation.

“Studio bosses like Darryl L. Zanuck demanded the total destruction and unlimited prohibition and elimination of their strongest pre-war rival, the German film industry.”Footnote 21 Somewhat reluctantly, the Information Services Division (ISD) of the American occupation authorities obliged and insisted on a total dismantling of the Ufa conglomerate, the center of German movies in the Weimar Republic and a docile instrument in the hands of Josef Goebbels after 1933. After 1945, West Germany was soon fully permeated by American culture, including movies.Footnote 22 But only after the US Army gave in to Hollywood’s most far-reaching demands in 1949, did the studios release Hollywood movies in the German market in large numbers.Footnote 23 The result, in T. P. Elsaesser’s words, was that after 1945 “Hollywood stands at the very heart of the New German Cinema becoming a national cinema.”Footnote 24

Some German filmmakers resented the decartelization of the German movie industry, modeled after the change in America’s domestic film industry in 1948; others welcomed it as offering an escape from the meddling of local conservative state and religious leaders.Footnote 25 By being free to join Germany’s central film industry trade organization during the military occupation, American distributors enjoyed a unique advantage which gave Hollywood an effective veto over German film policy. It is therefore hardly surprising that American film companies had a profound influence over West Germany’s cultural policy.Footnote 26 This manifest success of control power in Hollywood’s penetration in postwar Germany justified its continued prioritization and expectation of efficacy.

There were parallel attempts to adopt the strategy of structural positioning, institutional backing, and economic muscle to protect the rising dominance of Hollywood studios in America and abroad. This power has been widely recognized. Aspiring presidential candidates, especially of the Democratic Party, make Hollywood a regular stop on their fund-raising trips. With ready access to the halls of power, the lobbying of the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) has been very successful.Footnote 27 By trying to have movies covered under the catch-all rubric of intellectual property rights, the US government, for example, has backed the industry’s demand at the international level. Such interventions were often without great success;Footnote 28 however, that is not a reflection of the limits of control power wielded by Hollywood but rather that of the US government.

The recognition of Hollywood’s control power resulted in valiant efforts to resist it. Both comparatively strong European producer countries (such as Britain, France, and Germany) and weak ones (in Latin America, Africa, and the Middle East) have relied on a panoply of direct and indirect protectionist and promotive measures.Footnote 29 What Anne Jäckel describes for Europe holds also for other parts of the world. Most countries “continue to implement some form of protection for their national film industry … films are considered far too socially important to be left to market forces.”Footnote 30 Yet, because non-American audiences have come to share American tastes for films and genres that translate well across national borders and different subcultures, political resistance against the import of American movies often has been half-hearted and short-lived.Footnote 31 Informed or instructed by the preferences of viewing publics, American and foreign producers and governments are thus enmeshed in an unending game of probing and adaptation.Footnote 32

Hollywood studios have also used their dominance to shape markets.Footnote 33 For example, exclusive distribution of “one-size-fits-all” movies, selected by a few leading distributors, spurs markets that favor “a homogenized film product that can be profitable everywhere” and generates pressures that leave only limited market segments available for international competitors of American movies.Footnote 34 These developments set the stage for a profound transformation of global cinema in the 1980s and 1990s. Film production, financing, and distribution have each become increasingly global, and are dominated by America’s major studios. This has created a system in which the national production of movies abroad, through different commercial linkages, became an integral part of the American industry.Footnote 35 Film production in the United States has long been seen as a template for corporate and industrial change.Footnote 36 The advent of the era of conglomerates allowed for the development of digital technology,Footnote 37 which further boosted Hollywood’s distribution system.Footnote 38 More recently, the combined effect of big-budget moviemaking and expanded marketing opportunities that include the full range of media and sales outletsFootnote 39 has extended the reach of Hollywood to secondary markets in soundtracks and other paraphernalia, creating additional advantages for the American movie industry.Footnote 40 The movie industry is part of a thriving American popular culture complex that includes television programs, rock, rap and pop, theme parks, sports, clothes, fast food, advertising, the internet, and social media that easily reach customers across national borders.Footnote 41 Across a broad front, Hollywood has frequently succeeded in muting refusal to submit to its control by cajoling actors abroad.

The fact that Hollywood has benefitted greatly from the different kinds of control power does not mean that key representatives of the industry followed a strategic plan. As Michael Storper writes, “outcomes need not be intended or planned by large firms; if new production techniques are superior, at a given moment, to what they replace, the path taken can be the outcome of short-term strategies or even accidents.”Footnote 42 This describes accurately the workings of protean power as partially intended and at the same time unanticipated in a situation shot through with fundamental uncertainty. As we argue here, while the effects of control power are real, fundamental uncertainty is not eliminated by measures focusing on market share and risk calculations.

In attempts to retain control by preserving and expanding its primacy, it is easy for Hollywood executives to overreach in their international ambition. Structural power can have unexpected consequences. Outside the United States there exists, for example, considerable resistance to treating movies as normal economic commodities that should be traded freely.Footnote 43 In the words of one French movie director “the majors have been laying the foundation for future domination by infiltrating countries with cartel power. As a result, audiences get accustomed to US production values and voila, the Yanks control the world.”Footnote 44 That sentiment is likely to be even more pronounced in culturally different and institutionally distant international markets, China and India most prominently, possibly limiting the industry’s widely touted growth opportunities abroad.Footnote 45

Whatever the dominance over global markets by Hollywood creators and the blockbusters they produce, it does not make the American film industry immune against unknowable fluctuations. On the contrary, a lack of knowledge about the preferences of global audiences makes the industry often operate under conditions of radical uncertainty.Footnote 46 Hollywood has set key standards for the global film industry, gaining considerable market control, only to find that the markets for which the strategy was devised may follow an entirely different course. “Much of what Hollywood does,” Prindle writes, “can be interpreted as a series of strategies to replicate the unpredictable … People in Hollywood … face the incalculable every day.” As in the crisis-prone markets for sophisticated financial products with highly uncertain future values, in which agents’ expectations are often (contingently) stabilized by market conventions (see Chapter 8), Hollywood producers thus have developed strategies to cope with the fact that few movies actually make a return on the invested capital. “Brand loyalty” and “star power,”Footnote 47 specific genres, sequels, and series to tap into stable audiences,Footnote 48 cutting production costs, expanding markets, control over distribution channels and finance,Footnote 49 high production and advertising budgets and moderately priced starsFootnote 50 – all make the list of practices and strategies employed by predictability-seeking Hollywood producers.Footnote 51 Yet De Vany’s statistical analysis of the covariates of Hollywood films’ box office performances rejects as useless nearly all of these strategies, without weakening the tenacity with which they are pursued.Footnote 52 More recent (and ever-more sophisticated) attempts at forecasting the performance of films have proved to be similarly unsuccessful.Footnote 53 The bi-modal (and unusually long-tailed) shape of the distribution of box office returns is captured in Figure 10.1. The figure plots the box office performances for 8,401 films released between 1950 and 2010.Footnote 54 The data confirm that many films earn little, a few do well, and a very, very small number become global blockbusters – and no one can predict in advance of the release into which category a film will fit.Footnote 55 Screenwriter William Goldman encapsulated the radical uncertainty that defines the modern movie business in his best-known bon mot: “nobody knows anything.”Footnote 56

Figure 10.1 The Distribution of Box Office Returns, 1950–2010

Despite Hollywood’s dominance in select areas, like box office revenues, which enhance control in domestic and international markets, the battles for survival are hardly won. Returns on investments are low, and the ability to reach global audiences and retain their loyalty has been a source of permanent anxiety among Los Angeles film producers. Analyses of the movie industry stress its history of instability.Footnote 57 Although fewer films are made today than two decades ago, competition within the industry remains fierce, and is aggravated by competition with television, Blu-ray, online streaming services, other entertainment industries, and with piracy. The unpredictability of consumer preferences in Hollywood’s domestic and foreign markets is also well known.Footnote 58 In a complex market place, the frequency distribution of profits and losses in the film industry is non-Gaussian and has very long tails.Footnote 59 Hollywood’s film producers may try to exert control power, and they have been assisted in this endeavor by the establishment of a template for global blockbuster movies that has helped to create key markets in its viewing public, as well as aspiring moviemakers wanting to create global hit movies. But they are often frustrated when their competitors have a better view of the (moving) target, or once creative entrepreneurs in other sites of protean power master, perfect, and substitute the tools devised by Hollywood to reach the widest audiences.

Put differently, Hollywood’s control over global markets and audiences is not limited only by the counter-power of state and corporate actors seeking to evade its control and to impose their own instead. It is also limited by a protean power that circulates among producers, directors, and viewing publics and that can, at times, also course through Hollywood, although not as a result of deliberate strategies. That protean power operates in a decentralized manner and indirectly, appearing to lack identifiable agents, and often results in novel practices.

Both control and protean power are, therefore, deeply intertwined. To focus only on one or the other type of power impairs our understanding. It is the dynamic relation between the two kinds of power that best elucidates developments in the movie industry. “Movies are both art and commerce.”Footnote 60 Existing studies typically provide either an economic analysis of the system of production and distributionFootnote 61 or focus on the movies themselves, the culture of consumption and the ultimate arbiter, the moviegoer.Footnote 62 The analysis of the movie industry should, however, capture both economic relationships and cultural exchanges.Footnote 63 Economic and cultural crosscurrents reveal clearly power’s two different and complementary facets and practices that enhance the circulation of power.

Protean Power

The uncertainty that Hollywood faces comes in forms that are not fully captured by market competition. Cultural producers tackling the problem of competitiveness head on and relying on risk-driven shortcuts are often frustrated. Those strategies fit the template for exercising control power, which is not ineffective but limited both as a practical guide, evidenced by Hollywood’s struggle for dominance, and as a conceptual framework, since it neglects the dynamic complexity characterizing the world of global film. Control power would suffice if specific market moves met with predictable responses that could be thwarted and neutralized by still more calculated action. No global actors, and certainly not Hollywood, operate in such a laboratory-like environment where controlled experiments produce transparent results. Rules of the game and of “competitiveness,” if they are set at all, remain temporary and the creative content of films offered to diverse audiences is only the most visible manifestation of the impossibility of anticipating success. Behind this fluidity, we find control-eluding improvisation-turned-innovation, which both sustains and unravels the relations of power between actors.

Film producers operating in other national and international markets do not necessarily compete with Hollywood’s domination head on. Films produced for specific audiences, like those of Bollywood, “have carved out an autonomous history alongside American popular films on an international and now an increasingly global scale.”Footnote 64 For example, in serving their respective diaspora communities, the Chinese and Indian film industries harnessed Hollywood’s content-standardizing strategies that generate product according to the “most-exportable” formula.Footnote 65 Cairo, Mumbai, and Hong Kong have significant cultural divides that differ from Hollywood’s, which helps to explain “why producers in these cities have been able to sustain distinctive product lines and survive the onslaught of a much more powerful competitor.”Footnote 66 In striving to become their own force, prospective competitors to Hollywood in India, China, and Korea adapt the organizational content of Hollywood films, sometimes unwittingly. Their power lies in their less-than-fully-deliberate revision of audience tastes and their tapping of local talent, both moves that unintentionally end up transforming practices in major Hollywood studios as well.

For example, the rise of the Nigerian film industry since 1992 has been a totally unexpected development in the global film industry. The emergence of “Nollywood,” decidedly low-budget and rooted in Nigeria’s informal economy,Footnote 67 is popular throughout Africa and even generates worries about the continent’s “Nigerization.”Footnote 68 Within two decades the film industry has displaced Hollywood films not only in Nigeria but throughout Africa. It has become the second largest sector of Nigeria’s oil-dependent economy and employs about 200,000 people directly and 1 million indirectly. In 2013, it generated $800 million.Footnote 69 Between 1992 and 2009 it released about 11,000 full-length features, which made Nollywood the world’s leading producer of digital video films. Production costs typically are well below $50,000 and the average production time is seven days. Low-quality is a hallmark of Nigerian movies. In the words of veteran Nigerian director Eddie Ugbomah, “you don’t produce 20 films a week. You must be producing rubbish.”Footnote 70 Movies are produced in English and in one of Nigeria’s 521 native dialects. Customized to existing markets, they sell about 50,000 copies, successful ones ten times more. Without a strong property rights regime creativity has flourished. And competition is weak in Africa’s most populous country. The entire country has less than fifty movie theaters. Programming on state-run TV is unappealing. Internet connections are slow and unreliable. And about two-thirds of households have either VHS or VCD players. Piracy is widespread and discs now sell for about a dollar. Distribution networks are highly decentralized and have regional and even global reach.Footnote 71 Typically, within two weeks of their release date new films are distributed across the continent.Footnote 72

Actors from other African countries, mostly living in Lagos, are hired to enhance the appeal of Nigerian movies in markets throughout Africa.Footnote 73 Still, times are changing and competition is bound to emerge from other African countries. Filmmakers in South Africa, Tanzania, and Cameroon are producing hundreds of movies a year. And in an exercise of creative self-branding, South Africa, Ghana, and Kenya are describing their own nascent film industries as “Sollywood,” “Ghallywood,” and “Riverwood.” Uganda’s “Wakaliwood” is taking this development to its extremes; emblematic of the growing industry is Isaac Nabwana’s dusty backyard in Kampala’s Wakaliga neighborhood, where he has written, directed, shot, and edited forty-seven movies since 2008, the last one at a cost of less than $200 (selling 20,000 copies in the first week after release before wide-scale piracy took its toll on sales of the film).Footnote 74 Film has become Africa’s dominant popular cultural medium, ahead of music and dance.

In short, in Africa Nollywood rather than Hollywood came out on top. Though we usually fail to notice until it has already happened, when the shift occurs, the innovative sway of protean power can be so forceful that it may transform even what newly empowered actors do, perpetuating the uncertainty of the environment surrounding all film producers. The direct connection to audiences, the low-cost operation, and the ambition to penetrate markets beyond Nigeria has also exposed Nollywood to the vulnerabilities stemming from uncertainties only seemingly separate from film production.Footnote 75 The emergent threat of Boko Haram, for instance, necessitated agile responses that Nigerian military leaders hoped to borrow from Nollywood.Footnote 76 In an attempt to tap access to viewing households and gain valuable legitimation, the army has sought cooperation in portraying the fight against Boko Haram in Nollywood films.Footnote 77 Interestingly, a parallel strategy is being pursued by Pakistan’s army, whose soldiers work as extras in otherwise low-cost productions and participate in spreading a deliberately positive picture of anti-insurgent operations.Footnote 78 Although it is only a matter of time until audiences see through such efforts, this additional layer of resourcefulness and innovation in addressing terrorist threats reinforces the argument made by Barak Mendelsohn (Chapter 9). The profound uncertainty that gave rise to Nollywood is exacerbated by growing security challenges, opening new territory not only for market–political relations but also redefining threat, with an impact on the future uncertainty within the sector.Footnote 79

Protean power does not denote direct or actor-specific effects. It speaks to the degree to which the attempted transfer of values sets free creative processes that generate new capacities as the values in question are examined, breached, negotiated, affirmed, and undermined. The flow of ideas and information as well as fashions and fads on a global basis, with American society as an important node, thus reflects protean power’s face. It is partly shaped by the spontaneous preferences and practices of ordinary people.Footnote 80 Just like imported movies, the international success of the TV-series Dallas, for example, illustrates the ability of non-American viewers to interpret, select, resist, and adapt to the themes of a quintessentially American television show to suit their own distinctive institutions, values, and practices.Footnote 81

The lack of an overarching strategy that marks protean power, given the right circumstances, is readily discernible in the case of American cinema and supports our core point about the co-evolution of and interaction between control and protean power. In the words of film historian Vanessa Schwartz, the globalization of culture produced a “‘cosmopolitan’ cinema … this term denotes multinational production teams making films that represented subjects, themes, and plots that underscored a transnational cultural experience and perspective rather than a discrete national experience of culture that contributed to separate national identities and rivalries.”Footnote 82 While this cosmopolitan cinema is neither anti- nor un-American, it retains unmistakable American traits. David Puttnam, a producer, puts it this way: “The norms and values embodied in Hollywood films have come to be absorbed as universal … American films have always been consciously tailored to a multicultural audience; in the early days they had to be simply because of the high proportion and diverse mix of immigrants in America. In defining itself in acceptable national terms, the US domestic industry quite naturally tended to be international.”Footnote 83

It would be unfair and inaccurate to argue that Hollywood has misguidedly used control power only and has been immune to the opportunities resting with protean power. In fact, what may seem as a structural advantage is an element that has been exploited by both Hollywood and its competitors. They all watched the dynamic unfold with some intention, but without any ability to anticipate the full extent and depth of the resulting impact. Exemplifying this dynamic in the case of Hollywood, the polyglot character of American culture may well have greater access to and be more readily accessible by members of other communities. Looking well past structural power, Janet Wasko singles out not only the effects of Hollywood’s diverse cultural milieu, but also the role of English as a lingua franca that enhances the narrative transparency of American movies.Footnote 84 As film director Sidney Pollack observed while reflecting on the American obsession with remaking foreign films: “You can’t understand a lot of Japanese movies unless you understand Japanese culture. You don’t have to understand American culture to understand our movies.”Footnote 85 The narrative transparency of many American movies is a great asset in global markets. “Transparency is defined as any textual apparatus that allows audiences to project indigenous values, beliefs, rites, and rituals into imported media or the use of those devices. This transparency means that American cultural exports … manifest narrative structures that easily blend into other cultures.”Footnote 86 Protean power thus reflects the very construction of American fantasies and the illusions of control and pleasure that cannot be actualized anywhere.Footnote 87

Returning to the de-Nazification example, elements of protean power underpinned much of that success as well. Even under the extreme circumstances of US occupation German audiences did not passively accept or imitate Hollywood norms. “Hollywood was a cultural palimpsest upon which local audiences construed their own readings.”Footnote 88 Jennifer Fay writes in a similar vein that “German spectators and filmmakers did not merely imitate Hollywood examples; they reinterpreted, adapted, and domesticated these fictions. German directors even managed to subtly mock, boldly contest, and at times empty these constructs of American citizenship by inverting the conventions of Hollywood genres.”Footnote 89 This has also happened under more normal circumstances in recent decades.

Protean power helps us to understand why Hollywood’s control over domestic and international markets remains limited. Protean power sets unavoidable limits to the notion of control that focuses on the mechanisms of compulsion, institutions, and structures. It has decentralized and indirect effects. These effects create the innovations and unpredictabilities in a world marked not only by calculable risk but also unavoidable uncertainty.

Conclusion

The American film industry illustrates a puzzle. Hollywood controls the global industry by many conventional measures such as screen time, artistic and technological inventiveness, prestige, and access to capital. Yet the confidence that control should instill is not what Hollywood experiences. The American film industry operates in an uncertain environment marked by the intersection of control and protean power. In entertainment, Nate Silver states, “statistics do not provide all the answers; you have to measure the uncertainty in a problem.”Footnote 90 Overstating a good point, Taleb emphasizes uncertainty even more when he writes that “what we call talent generally comes from success, rather than its opposite … a large dose of nonlinear luck makes the movie.”Footnote 91 Control power, therefore, is an incomplete guide for fathoming the direction of the next big wave of hot cultural products that will capture the imagination of consumers, directors, producers, and investors. The statistical effect of the wisdom of the crowds on the revenues a film generates is ten times stronger than the reviews of film critics.Footnote 92 Crowds thus have agency in shaping Hollywood, but in an attenuated sense of that term.

As this chapter has sought to demonstrate, the world of movies is marked by the intersection between control and protean power. Despite its formidable compulsory, institutional, and structural resources, protean power stands in the way of the American movie industry’s secure control of markets and recurrent attempts to transform radical uncertainty into manageable risk. Thinking of power in differentiated terms highlights dynamic relationships between power types that can be mutually reinforcing, undermining, or indifferent. As a practical matter, in the film industry, America’s institutional and structural power is more important than its compulsory power. Still, the former two operate in direct interaction with protean power – the greater the push to streamline production processes and bet on previously proven horses, the greater the inclination to assume away important changes in market context, thus opening up room for innovative interventions. As such institutional and structural power are both enhanced and set back by the dispersed and indirect effects of protean power.

The American and global movie industry is an institutional complex full of conflicts and contradictions revealed in both the refusal of national governments to submit to US pressure for unfettered access to protected national markets and the improvisations and innovations by foreign producers and moviemakers, setting free protean power dynamics. The historical trajectories of the movie industries in different parts of the world diverge widely in both the scope they reached and the means they use, while subject to the scrutiny of choice-wielding audiences. The American and European film-production complexes date back to the beginning of the twentieth century; Nigeria’s cottage industry saw the light of day as late as 1992. The difference in timing, scale, and audience responses has a lot to do with the balance between centralizing and decentralizing movements in each industry and in its links to global networks, from finance to diasporas. Uncertainty has typically defeated efforts at forecasting audience preference with the help of risk-based models. Yet it is that same uncertainty that provides a fertile ground for the exercise of creative, innovative, and improvisational protean power.

The existence of and configuration between different types of power is helpful for rethinking what we mean by the term Americanization and how processes that this concept describes link to the broader world. Rather than arguing that America made the worldFootnote 93 or extolling that world’s flatnessFootnote 94 in imposing one best standard, the analysis of different types of power points to two perspectives. First, the transnational movement of American film elucidates how and why American culture is an important part of global culture. The broad context of world politics connects local and global domains of social and political life. Local practices remake global culture just as global culture remakes local practices. It is unhelpful to think of national cultures as stable and global culture as intrusive. Contested local and global cultures change as they travel. Second, the protean power of American society interacts with the control powers of the United States. Circulation is not a one-way process. Just as American society affects others, so do others affect American society and the United States. Protean power can be genuinely creative, innovative, and original in developing new social practices, knowledge regimes, and policies.

Like the American imperium of which it is a part, Hollywood is remarkable for the open access it grants to outsiders.Footnote 95 Distinctive of the contemporary American movie industry is the fact that most of its studios are foreign-owned; many of its most distinguished directors are non-American; and many foreign producers can come to make “Hollywood” movies for non-American audiences. The intimate relation between the American movie industry, foreign producers and directors, and global audiences expresses widely shared commonalities and differences across boundaries that make global viewing publics both receptive and resistant to the industry’s products.Footnote 96 Located in America and belonging to the world, Hollywood thus embodies very different and complementary faces of power in contemporary world politics.

Footnotes

7 Firms in Firmament: Hydrocarbons and the Circulation of Power

1 For insightful reactions to previous drafts, I thank Jacqueline Best, Noelle Brigden, Christina Davis, Rafael Di Tella, Catherine Duggan, Jessica Green, Aida Hozic, Jeffrey Isaac, Miles Kahler, Peter Katzenstein, Robert Keohane, Stephen Krasner, Daniel Nexon, Leonard Seabrooke, and Lucia Seybert, as well as participants in seminars at Princeton University and the University of Waterloo. I am grateful to Rachel Van Horn and Morena Skalamera for research assistance.

6 This is one of the classic questions of international political economy. See Vernon Reference Vernon1971; Gilpin Reference Gilpin1975; Krasner Reference Krasner1978. See also Baldwin Reference Baldwin1989.

8 Machiavelli [1513/32]Reference Machiavelli and Mansfield1998, ch. XXV.

9 Clegg Reference Clegg1989, chs. 1 and 2.

12 This is basically so. Oil comes onto the market in different grades (heavy or light, sweet or sour) that are not altogether fungible because refineries differ in their capabilities to manage them.

13 See, for example, Spar Reference Spar1994.

14 Stern and Rogers Reference Stern, Rogers and Stern2012; Mitrova, Kulagin, and Galkina Reference Mitrova, Kulagin and Galkina2015.

17 Abdelal, Jorov, and Tarontsi Reference Abdelal, Jorov and Tarontsi2008a.

19 A fuller recounting of this episode can be found in Abdelal Reference Abdelal2013.

23 Abdelal, Maugeri, and Tarontsi Reference Abdelal, Maugeri and Tarontsi2014.

24 Abdelal, Çekin, and Çelik Reference Abdelal, Çekin and Çelik2015. The downing of a Russian jet by the Turkish military in November 2015 delayed the project, although by 2017 it seemed to be back on track.

25 Author’s interview with Bruno Lescoeur, CEO, Edison, Paris, June 12, 2013.

26 Skalamera Reference Skalamera2014. Also see Abdelal and Tarontsi Reference Abdelal and Tarontsi2012; Abdelal, Skalamera, and Tarontsi Reference Abdelal, Skalamera and Tarontsi2015.

27 On the variety of Eurasianisms, see Katzenstein and Weygandt Reference Katzenstein and Weygandt2017. Also see Laruelle Reference Laruelle2008.

29 Abdelal Reference Abdelal2001; Abdelal, Di Tella, and Tarontsi Reference Abdelal, Di Tella and Tarontsi2014.

30 On this logic of economic sanctions, see Baldwin Reference Baldwin1985.

31 Several analysts anticipated the subsequent decline by evaluating investment patterns in oil fields over the past decade. See Maugeri Reference Maugeri2012.

8 Incomplete Control: The Circulation of Power in Finance

1 For helpful comments and encouragement we wish to thank Rawi Abdelal, Jacqueline Best, Aida Mozic, Miles Kahler, Kate McNamara, Mark Nance, Dan Nexon, Len Seabrooke, the other contributors to this volume, and – in particular – Lucia Seybert and Peter Katzenstein.

2 Johnson and Kwak Reference Johnson and Kwak2010.

3 Admati and Hellwig Reference Admati and Hellwig2013.

6 Zuckerman Reference Zuckerman1999: 1411.

8 Chong and Tuckett Reference Chong and Tuckett2015: 310.

9 FCIC 2011: 61.

10 Streeck Reference Streeck2016: 25.

11 Dyson Reference Dyson2014: 340.

12 While the problem of valuation is more acute in financial than in product markets, contracting nonetheless plays an important role in each as a means of stabilizing actors’ expectations in an environment of uncertainty. Indeed, this is precisely why commodity derivatives were initially developed in agricultural markets as both farmers and grain buyers sought greater predictability in future grain prices.

13 Morgan Reference Morgan2016: 211–12.

14 Nesvetailova Reference Nesvetailova2014: 547.

15 Woll Reference Woll2014: 55.

16 Johal, Moran, and Williams Reference Johal, Moran and Williams2014: 400.

19 Footnote Ibid.: 234, 236–37.

22 Scott Reference Scott1998: 327.

24 Scott Reference Scott1998: 310.

26 Admati and Hellwig Reference Admati and Hellwig2013: 2–3.

27 Woll Reference Woll2014: 53.

29 MacKenzie Reference MacKenzie2008: 19.

31 Tett Reference Tett2009: 12.

32 Funk and Hirschman Reference Funk and Hirschman2014: 671.

33 Greenspan Reference Greenspan2003: 5.

36 Zepeda Reference Zepeda2014. ISDA netting rules, however, disproportionately benefit derivatives dealer banks over other creditors in situations of insolvency. Carruthers Reference Carruthers2015: 390–91.

37 See, for example, Hendricks Reference Hendricks1994.

39 Haldane Reference Haldane2009: 5.

40 G20 2009.

41 Bank for International Settlements 2016: 22–23.

42 Helleiner and Pagliari Reference Helleiner, Pagliari and Helleiner2010: 74–90.

43 Greenspan Reference Greenspan2003: 6.

46 ISDA 2015.

48 See, for example, Jones Reference Jones2015.

49 This section draws from Nelson Reference Nelson, Mallard and Sgard2016.

50 Dyson Reference Dyson2014: 341.

52 A publicly traded corporation, MSCI, generates the annual country classifications that are widely used by international money managers. See at: www.msci.com/market-classification.

53 Weidemaier and Gulati Reference Weidemaier and Gulati2015.

54 Dyson Reference Dyson2014: 340.

55 Panizza, Sturzenegger, and Zettelmeyer Reference Panizza, Sturzenegger and Zettelmeyer2009: 656.

56 Penet and Mallard Reference Penet and Mallard2014.

58 Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2016: 42.

59 Buchheit and Pam Reference Buchheit and Pam2004: 871. Gulati and Scott’s careful studies of the history of the clause show that there are several different versions that appear in sovereign debt prospectuses over time. The “toughest” version of the clause (in the sense that it is most vulnerable to the legal interpretation that we describe in the next pages) became the most common and now appears in 74 percent of bonds issued by developing and emerging countries (Tomz and Wright Reference Tomz and Wright2013: 256). Gulati and Scott’s extensive interviews with market players, however, indicate that there was “no bargaining between the issuer and the creditors over the type of pari passu (or any other clause that would be used)” (Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2016: 47). Standardization of the contract is the name of the game in the sovereign debt market.

60 Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2013: 3; see also Buchheit and Pam Reference Buchheit and Pam2004; Varottil Reference Varottil and Kolb2011.

61 Choi, Gulati, and Scott Reference Choi, Gulati and Scott2016: 1–2.

62 Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2016: 55.

63 Panizza, Sturzenegger, and Zettelmeyer Reference Panizza, Sturzenegger and Zettelmeyer2009: 657; Varottil Reference Varottil and Kolb2011: 227–28.

64 Buchheit and Pam Reference Buchheit and Pam2004: 877–78.

66 Panizza, Sturzenegger, and Zettelmeyer Reference Panizza, Sturzenegger and Zettelmeyer2009: 658.

67 Buchheit and Pam Reference Buchheit and Pam2004: 883–90.

69 Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2013.

70 Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2013: 170–71.

71 In March 2016, Argentina’s newly elected center-right government paid $2.3 billion to Elliott (on top of the $2.35 billion it paid to other holdout creditors) – a settlement that amounted to a 369 percent return on Elliott’s initial investment in Argentine bonds.

72 Gulati and Scott Reference Gulati and Scott2016: 8–9.

73 Gelpern Reference Gelpern2016: 73.

74 Choi, Gulati, and Scott Reference Choi, Gulati and Scott2016.

9 Terrorism and Protean Power: How Terrorists Navigate Uncertainty

1 I would like to thank the other participants in this project for their helpful feedback. I am also indebted to Aida Hozic, Jacqueline Best, Stefano Guzzini, Jeffrey Isaac, Miles Kahler, Stephen D. Krasner, Kathleen McNamara, Daniel Nexon, and Leonard Seabrooke for their sharp comments on earlier drafts, and to Peter Katzenstein and Lucia Seybert for their invaluable assistance (sometimes in the form of control power). Ashly Bennett provided much needed editing and Rachel Miller excellent research assistance.

2 Hofmann Reference Hofmann2006: 1–41; Pape Reference Pape2005.

5 Mueller and Stewart Reference Mueller and Stewart2016.

7 Fingar Reference Fingar2011: 29.

8 On the futility of state control efforts to stem unauthorized migration, see Brigden and Andreas (Chapter 5).

9 ODNI 2006.

12 Mitzen and Schweller Reference Mitzen and Schweller2011.

13 For how religion helps to reduce uncertainty for migrants, see the contribution of Brigden and Andreas (Chapter 5).

14 Contrast the way in which actors attempt to transform inherent uncertainty to a calculable risk through legal fictions in finance, and mutual understanding by negotiating sides in energy deals that the terms of their agreements will have to be renegotiated in the future. See the contributions of Abdelal (Chapter 7) and Lockwood and Nelson (Chapter 8).

15 Vail III et al. Reference Vail2010.

16 Al-Sahab 2007a.

19 Al-Sahab 2007a.

20 Al-Sahab 2007b.

22 For example, see Islamic State 2015b: 52–54.

23 For example, see Brown Reference Brown2007: 57.

26 The Economist 2014: 52.

27 On the Saudi program, see Rabasa et al. Reference Rabasa2010: 56–77.

28 For an example of criticism of al-Qaeda, see Al-Gama’a al-Islamiya Reference al-Islamiya2004.

30 Miller and Higham Reference Miller and Higham2015.

31 Al-Maqdisi Reference Al-Maqdisi2014; Abu Qatada al-Filistini Reference Al-Filistini2013.

32 For example, see Institute for Economics and Peace 2015: 32–35.

35 Al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula 2010: 33–40.

38 Footnote Ibid.: 14–15.

40 Islamic State 2015a.

41 Higham and Nakashima Reference Higham and Nakashima2015.

42 Stern and Berger Reference Stern and Berger2015.

44 For example, see Callimachi Reference Callimachi2015.

45 Mendelsohn Reference Mendelsohn2009: 161–84.

47 Miller and Higham Reference Miller and Higham2015.

48 The Economist 2007.

52 Berger and Morgan Reference Berger and Morgan2015.

10 Slumdog versus Superman: Uncertainty, Innovation, and the Circulation of Powerin the Global Film Industry

1 We are indebted greatly to Aida Hozic and Stefano Guzzini who over several years helped us enormously in clarifying our thinking about movies and power. Without their help this chapter would not have seen the light of day. For their engaged readings and critical comments on successive drafts we also thank Michael Barnett, Susan Christopherson, Matthew Evangelista, Harvey Feigenbaum, Peter Gourevitch, Jeffrey Isaac, Jonathan Kirshner, Daniel Nexon, Nissim Otmazgin, Toby Miller, Galia Press-Barnathan, John Sayles, Len Seabrooke, Etel Solingen, David Spiro, and all of our fellow authors in this project. Kirat Singh was an outstanding research assistant for Peter Katzenstein. Lucia Seybert relied on excellent research assistance from Robert Vainshtein.

2 Hayek Reference Hayek1973: 27.

5 Our discussion necessitates one note on conceptual clarity. In this chapter’s terminology the “United States” references the state and often stresses the central role of the executive branch of government. “America” refers to social actors and their variegated practices. Located in the “United States” and bearing unmistakable traits of “America,” Hollywood is not an actor but a site that permits us to observe power processes.

8 Hayek Reference Hayek1945: 524.

9 Žižek Reference Žižek1999: 4. Popular culture and the arts more generally have elicited an aesthetic turn in international relations theory that is indebted to post-modernism and that differs from the argument developed in this chapter. The aesthetic turn focuses on cinema, literature, visual art, music, and other forms that encompass high art and extend into popular culture. Sensibility, imagination, and emotion are all part of aesthetic approaches, complementing cognition, knowledge, and reason. The aesthetic turn insists on the unavoidable necessity of interpretation that links the values of the perceiver to the phenomena she or he seeks to illuminate. Aesthetic approaches focus on the gap between the object of representation and the form of representation not as a problem to be overcome, but as the location of a profoundly important politics. And that politics should be made accessible to all human faculties and not just human reason. Since representation is always also an act of power, as Foucault has reminded us, scientific realism should be subjected to questioning and the aesthetic turn in cultural studies provides us with one such opportunity. Bleiker Reference Bleiker2009: 18–47; Steele Reference Steele2010.

10 Appiah Reference Appiah2005: 114.

12 Hay Reference Hay2002: 185–86.

14 de Grazia Reference de Grazia1989: 61.

15 Moran Reference Moran1996: 77.

16 Waterman Reference Waterman2005: 272.

18 Flibbert Reference Flibbert2007: 52.

19 Christopherson Reference Christopherson2012.

25 Fehrenbach Reference Fehrenbach1995: 52–53.

26 Segrave Reference Segrave1997: 209–10.

28 Flibbert Reference Flibbert2007: 159; Miller, Kurunmäki, and O’Leary Reference Miller, Kurunmäki and O’Leary2008; Miller et al. Reference Miller, Govil, McMurria and Maxwell2001: 38–39.

29 de Grazia, Reference de Grazia1989: 54, 86; Flibbert Reference Flibbert2007: 8, 19.

30 Jäckel Reference Jäckel2003: 1.

33 Cowen Reference Cowen2002: 75–77.

34 Flibbert Reference Flibbert2007: 138; Iordanova, Martin-Jones, and Vidal Reference Iordanova, Martin-Jones and Vidal2010.

35 Moran Reference Moran1996: 6–7.

36 Hozic Reference Hozic2001: xvi.

37 Allen Reference Allen2003: 36, 220.

38 Hozic Reference Hozic2001: 22–27.

39 Wasko Reference Wasko1994: 242.

41 Press-Barnathan Reference Press-Barnathan2013.

42 Storper Reference Storper1993: 291.

44 Wasko Reference Wasko1994: 226.

45 Leaver Reference Leaver2010: 474.

47 Statistical script testing is the latest illustration of these beliefs. “It takes a lot of the risk out of what I do,” says producer Scott Seindorff (quoted in Barnes Reference Barnes2013).

48 Prindle Reference Prindle1993: 18–29.

49 Aksoy and Robins Reference Aksoy and Robins1992: 13.

50 The Economist 2016a.

51 Uncertainty is reduced also by vertical integration of production, distribution, and exhibition; careful audience research – test screenings and focus groups on rough cuts of films; completion guarantors – companies that, for a fee, guarantee money necessary to finish production; negative pickup – major studios agree to pay part of the costs of the movie’s production upon the delivery of the negative; creative accounting techniques to mask the true net loss and profit of a film; developing ancillary markets like video and DVD; and increasing access to foreign markets. See Acheson and Maule Reference Acheson and Maule1994.

53 For example, two physicists developed a machine learning algorithm to pre-assign films (based on publicly available information) to different categories (ranging from “flop” to “blockbuster”); when they compared the actual performance to the prediction, they found that the routine correctly classified only about one-third of the films in their dataset of over 5,000 films. Pan and Sinha Reference Pan and Sinha2010.

54 Bamman, O’Connor, and Smith Reference Bamman, O’Connor and Smith2013. The film data used to construct the figure can be accessed at: www.ark.cs.cmu.edu/personas.

55 And what is true for Hollywood is true for Bollywood as well: “fewer than 8 out of the 800 films made each year [in Bollywood] will make serious money.” Torgovnik Reference Torgovnik2003: 6.

56 Asked seventeen years later whether the bon mot still held true, Goldman replied “now more than ever.” Quoted in Lavin Reference Lavin2000. The micro-level evidence on the total unpredictability of audience tastes is strong. Experimental evidence shows that slight shifts in social cues can move audience valuations of cultural objects in wildly divergent directions. These micro-level studies shed additional light on the “pervasive ‘nobody knows’ problem, whereby even sophisticated cultural industry insiders have difficulty predicting which cultural products will become highly popular and which will fail.” Zuckerman Reference Zuckerman2012: 226.

57 Allen Reference Allen2003: 37.

59 De Vany Reference De Vany2004: 2–3, 6.

64 Baumik Reference Baumik and Cooke2007: 202. In fact, Bollywood is an inaccurate label. India actually produces films in thirty languages and multiple genres. Hindi movies have a supportive audience even in Pakistan, despite India’s troubled relationship with that country.

65 Curtin and Shah Reference Curtin and Shah2010.

66 Curtin Reference Curtin2007: 19. Powerful, we would add, only if measured as control-power linked to financing capacity and advertising clout, not audience impact.

69 Rutschman Reference Rutschman2015: 693.

70 Ang Reference Ang2016: 225.

71 Arewa Reference Arewa2012: 3–4, 7, 9, 12, 15–16, 22–23, 25–26; Olopade Reference Olopade2014: 23–26.

72 The Economist 2010.

73 The success of the Nigerian movie industry is in contrast to the experience of other African countries where resources are too limited to support state-of-the-art filmmaking equipment; poorly organized distribution and exhibition sectors have forced the government to assume most or all of the production costs; and direct governmental control over the content and style of filmmaking have stifled creativity. See Diawara Reference Diawara1992.

74 The Economist 2016b.

76 Klein and Palmer Reference Klein and Palmer2016.

78 The Economist 2016c.

79 Klein Murillo Reference Klein Murillo2016.

81 Liebes and Katz Reference Liebes and Katz1990.

82 Schwartz Reference Schwartz2007: 5.

83 Puttnam and Watson Reference Puttnam and Watson1998: 277.

84 Wasko Reference Wasko2003: 175–81; de Grazia Reference de Grazia1989: 59–61.

85 Quoted in Allen Reference Allen2003: 85.

86 Olson Reference Olson1999: 5.

87 Hozic Reference Hozic2001: 28.

89 Fay Reference Fay2008: xvii.

91 Taleb Reference Taleb2010: 30–31.

92 The Economist 2016a.

95 Katzenstein Reference Katzenstein2005: 149–78.

96 Acland Reference Acland2003: 11.

Figure 0

Figure 10.1 The Distribution of Box Office Returns, 1950–2010

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