A growing feeling is taking hold that the bifurcation point of the current phase of global development has been reached—and, accordingly, passed. The world is already moving along a new trajectory, and all of us with it, of course. The only question is: what kind of trajectory is it? There are plenty of signs pointing to one or another type of development, yet their interpretation is far from obvious, writes Andrey Bystritskiy, Chairman of the Board of the Foundation for Development and Support of the Valdai Discussion Club.
What is unfolding should not come as a surprise. The world in which we live has turned out to be more complex than ever before. Moreover, before us—quite unmistakably—is a new world. A world that has never existed before. And this world is already alive and, in doing so, signalling its presence in one way or another. Yet these numerous signals of a universe emerging before our very eyes—on the basis of which we try to draw conclusions—are not easy to assess unambiguously.
How, for instance, are we to interpret the actions of the United States administration following the election of Donald Trump? Do they, on the whole, reduce conflict in the modern world, or do they draw us even deeper into a vortex of violence, ultimately leading to a global, devastating war? If one is to believe the rhetoric of the American authorities, then of course not—the stated aim is precisely to eliminate the causes of conflict. Then again, in the distant past, many illnesses were treated with mercury—a rather dangerous and poisonous substance. Yet—interestingly enough—it did help quite a few people.
Contemporary Western Europe speaks endlessly of its peaceful intentions, of defending democratic and humanistic values. And it increasingly resembles a caricature of the Soviet Union: in order to protect peace, not a stone will be left standing. What is particularly striking is that the sheer recklessness of their actions is, at least by some Western Europeans, fully understood—yet they are unable to stop. The reason, in my view, is simple: a lack of will, underpinned by reason.
In short, what I mean to say is that the world is full of signs indicating the path along which the train of modern civilisation is travelling. It is just that not all of these signs have yet been read or understood by us.
But what has been understood is, frankly, alarming.
The first thing that draws attention is the growing risk of shortages of goods essential for survival.
First and foremost—fuel. In principle, there is enough of it, but the systemic restrictions on all forms of supply are making themselves felt. Everyone is doing their worst. Ukraine is blocking oil and gas pipelines running through its territory and diligently striking, with all available means, fuel loading stations within reach of its weapons—kindly supplied by its Western European partners. In general, the suicidal tendencies of Ukraine’s leadership deserve a separate discussion—most likely a pointless one, since effective methods for treating serious mental disorders are, broadly speaking, lacking. One can mitigate the course of the illness, of course, but a radical cure is rare.
The Western European elites I have already mentioned appear to be just as blind as many others. Their actions most closely resemble a highly impressive political dance performed by Europe’s leadership on the eve of the First World War, described in Christopher Clark’s “The Sleepwalkers”. At that time, according to many—not only this Australian–British historian—a group of relatives (Tsar Nicholas of Russia, Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, King George of Britain, and many of their kin) blindly and largely thoughtlessly dragged the world into a war of monstrous destructiveness. The elites who initiated it largely perished in it themselves, yet its consequences are still felt to this day. Not to mention the Second World War, the emergence of which was undoubtedly, in many respects, linked to the results of the First.
As for US policy—there is hardly anything left to say. There is the recent blockade of Venezuela, whose resource exports are now fully under Washington’s control. There is also the monstrously inhumane blockade of Cuba—albeit with an opposite aim to that in Venezuela. Fuel is prohibited from being delivered to Cuba, which—without any doubt—contributes to the deaths of innocent people, such as patients in hospitals. The absence of electricity under conditions of energy shortage, sadly, interrupts many medical procedures.
Nor are the problems confined to the Western Hemisphere. Attacks on Iran, blockades, counter-blockades, and the threat of further blockades of the Strait of Hormuz, among much else in that region—inevitably worsen the global energy situation. There is little need to list all the actions of the United States and its allies—it is enough to note that a critical situation with fuel supply has been reached worldwide.
And even if—quite likely—the situation eases somewhat in the near future, the risk of new restrictions will loom on the horizon for a long time yet.
The second—and growing—problem is food.
Incidentally, a telling illustration of this approach was the distribution of vaccines during the pandemic, which clearly demonstrated that hypocrisy was the principal—and finest—characteristic of the behaviour of the so-called civilised countries. Let me clarify: no one should be idealised, but the actions of EU leadership during the pandemic are, I hope, still remembered by many.
Fuel, food—and information. The third element pointing to the direction of development preferred by Western elites.
The emergence of the digital world caught almost everyone off guard. Yet it quickly became clear that this element—whose nature is not fully understood and, it seems, not entirely subject to human control—can be used to preserve or attain dominance, and to manipulate everyone else. Today, struggle and hostility in the digital realm have reached full intensity. First, digital technologies and their derivatives, such as artificial intelligence, have quite literally become part of the battlefield. Second, they have occupied the entire sphere of communication—from economics and politics to culture and education. Third, they have become a crucial instrument of socialisation—that is, the formation of the individual, and thus, ultimately, of society itself. And, as is often the case, the digital world has inherited all the worst traits of its creators—hostility and malice.
Finally, the fourth element—the one in which everyone places their hopes: new technologies in biology, medicine, construction, and beyond. Yet here, too, we observe a striking combination of remarkable achievements and almost malicious manipulation of results. State egoism, combined with personal greed, blends into a remarkably toxic cocktail.
Entire countries are discovering that widely advertised solutions do not work in reality, that transferred patents are flawed. And this is not always due to deliberate wrongdoing—although that does occur—but primarily because the complexity of not only the global system as a whole, but also of its individual components, has increased many times over.
Nouriel Roubini, an American economist of Turkish origin, wittily described the current situation as a new “Cambrian explosion”. As is well known, during the Cambrian period, roughly 588 million years ago, there was a sharp increase both in the number and the complexity of living organisms. Put very crudely, instead of primitive, very simple organisms, highly complex and diverse creatures began to inhabit and interact on the Earth’s surface. The system became complex. The final outcome ought to alarm us—humans appeared.
Something similar is happening now. The Earth’s system and its inhabitants have undergone a dramatic increase in complexity.
Yet those in power in many countries either do not wish—or are unable—to recognise the qualitative novelty of the emerging world. Moreover—as I have already noted—they are doing everything in their power to obstruct its emergence, naively hoping that the forces of development will somehow submit to them.
Nevertheless, the key issue is understanding the situation in which we find ourselves. On the one hand, we face destructive tendencies with their many active supporters. On the other, unstoppable development—a colossal, unprecedented qualitative increase in the complexity of the reality in which we live. Unlike the Cambrian period, we humans possess far greater intelligence than, say, trilobites—but also far greater aggressiveness. And, as is known, it was precisely in the Cambrian that the division between predators and prey first emerged. The crucial task of the new era we are entering is therefore to ask: is a world order built on the dualism of predator and prey truly inevitable?
Alas, the trends we observe today suggest that the chances of a better world are slim. For now, there are more signs pointing towards an escalation of mutual aggression. Nevertheless, hope should not be abandoned.
First, the overwhelming majority of people are, in themselves, peaceable and do not desire aggression.
Second, most states are likewise inclined towards peacefulness.
Third, if the conflict-driven and deteriorating trends in global affairs persist, the very development of the world may be placed at risk.
Frankly, I am not a great optimist, and, looking back at the past, it is easiest to assume that if things can go badly, they will. Yet this is not a sentence.
There have been instances when reason has prevailed. But that depends on the will and cohesion of those who are prepared to temper their ambitions and achieve greater benefit through cooperation with others. Incidentally, our Cro-Magnon ancestors won this planet precisely through cooperation.