“Adults in a Room” is a series in collaboration with The Stimson Center’s Reimagining US Grand Strategy program. The series stems from the group’s monthly networking events that call on analysts to gather virtually and hash out a salient topic. It aims to give you a peek into their Zoom room and a deep understanding of the issue at hand in less than the time it takes to sip your morning coffee without the jargon, acronyms, and stuffiness that often come with expertise.
In an effort to broaden the grand strategy debate in Washington, the Reimaging US Grand Strategy team at the Stimson Center recently released “New Visions for Grand Strategy,” a series of essays and interviews on the greatest issues facing US foreign policy. With the unipolar moment over and US global dominance continuing to wane, Washington will need a wider breadth of perspectives to adapt to the circumstances of tomorrow.
September’s Reimagining US Grand Strategy roundtable brought members of the foreign policy community, including several contributors to “New Visions,” to consider the future of US grand strategy. Senior Fellow Emma Ashford of the Stimson Center opened by discussing her recently released book, First Among Equals: US Foreign Policy in a Multipolar World, and her taxonomy of the four main schools of thought in current grand strategy debates. Jennifer Lind, an associate professor of government at Dartmouth College, then discussed her “New Visions” essay, which focused on the outlook for progressive grand strategy. A group of policy experts discussed the grand strategy debate, the merits of progressive grand strategy, and whether it can meaningfully contribute to and shape US grand strategy.
Emma Ashford, Senior Fellow, Reimagining US Grand Strategy Program, Stimson Center
This is an era of upheaval in Washington, where the doors of foreign policy debate have been flung open in ways that would have seemed extraordinary just a few short years ago. There are good reasons for this. The “unipolar moment” — the post-Cold War period of American global predominance — is ending. The United States remains the world’s most capable power, but its lead over other powers is shrinking. China is rising, and globalization has diffused technology, capital, and industrial capacity across a broader set of states. Washington’s foreign policy community must also contend with the perceived failures of the unipolar moment, from the War on Terror to the backlash from globalization.
As we enter this new era, the most important question for US policymakers is, “How can America adapt its foreign policy to address the challenges of the 21st century?”
There is a diverse set of policy prescriptions on offer. For the most part, participants in the foreign policy debate agree that the United States mishandled aspects of the unipolar moment, but differ sharply in the remedies they propose. They also differ in party affiliation, differences in how they define American interests, how they envision Washington’s role in global affairs, and many other factors. Should Washington seek to reshape the world or focus narrowly on safeguarding its own security? Should the promotion of democracy be prioritized? Which instruments of power should take precedence? And are alliances sources of strength or constraints on freedom of action?
There are four central strands of thought in this debate:
Nationalism, best exemplified by policymakers in the Trump administration. They are skeptical of alliances and international institutions that they see as constraints on American sovereignty. Though they prioritize domestic renewal, they readily embrace military or economic coercion when they perceive US interests to be threatened.
Liberal internationalists, meanwhile, remain the dominant faction within the Democratic Party, and continue to see US alliances as “sacred commitments.” They believe that US leadership, including through international institutions, remains essential to global stability. In their view, the answer to US decline lies not in retrenchment but in rebuilding and expanding a rules-based order with the United States at its core.
Left-wing progressives are starting to articulate a strategy centered on using American influence to improve the world through nonmilitary means. They advocate tackling transnational issues — from climate change to kleptocracy — and emphasize diplomacy, aid, and economic reform over deterrence and force. Yet this camp remains internally divided, united more by its critique of militarism than by a clear alternative grand strategy.
Finally, realists (sometimes labeled “prioritizers” or “restrainers”) focus more narrowly on US security and warn of the dangers of overextension. This camp cuts across party lines. Realists, myself included, generally call for at least some reduction in the US military footprint, a sharper prioritization among regions, and a more limited conception of American interests — all in pursuit of a more disciplined foreign policy.
The ongoing clash among these visions is messy, but it is also productive. For too long, US foreign policy rested on assumptions that went largely unchallenged. The current moment offers an opportunity to think honestly about limits and trade-offs, and to deeply consider the challenging questions facing US policymakers.
Ali Wyne, Senior Research and Advocacy Advisor, US-China, International Crisis Group
China’s competitive challenge to the United States is multifaceted, comprising military, economic, and diplomatic components. The most salient component, however, may be psychological. It is difficult enough for policymakers to process that Washington faces its most potent challenger so soon after its triumph in the Cold War — and yet more vexing to accept that that challenger promulgates a model of domestic governance and an approach to international relations so far from those that the United States champions.
Among the most consequential questions for US grand strategy, then — during and beyond the remainder of the Trump administration — is how the United States will address a resurgent China: Will it proceed with composure, appreciating the likelihood that the two countries will have to coexist over the long term, or succumb to defensiveness, concluding that it can and must achieve a victory that will position it to inaugurate the next “American century”?
Even if one were to stipulate the most expansive interpretation of China’s strategic objectives — that Beijing aims to supplant Washington as the world’s leading power and establish a Sinocentric order — it is unclear whether China could achieve such goals. But speculation that the Chinese Communist Party will soon collapse — or, less dramatically, that China’s comprehensive national power will soon plateau — appears erroneous as well. In brief, neither consternation nor complacency is warranted on America’s part.
Unfortunately, though, US commentary on China increasingly exhibits analytical whiplash, which inhibits prudent policy: Some observers express anxiety because they conclude that it is staring down decline, while others do so because they assess that it is marching toward dominance.
Those who emphasize China’s competitive liabilities are principally concerned with a short-term possibility: that within the next 10 years, if not by the end of this decade, Beijing will decide to make a move on Taipei — either because Chinese leaders discern a closing window of opportunity or because they seek to distract from mounting public discontent over China’s economic challenges — precipitating a great-power war that would exact an unfathomable human, economic, and military toll.
Those who emphasize China’s competitive assets worry not only about the possibility of a great-power war, but also about the prospect that a more confident and capable China could reconfigure today’s order in ways that would further weaken US influence in Asia, legitimize autocratic governance, and drive wedges between the United States and its longstanding allies and partners.
For proponents of both hypotheses, though, the motivating sentiment is distress, and the non-negotiable imperative is to win — whether the contest is one whose intensity will climax soon and then dissipate, or one that will be, with occasional reprieves, significantly testing for the United States over several decades, if not longer. In brief, the hope is that a policy of containment, or one approximating it, will eventually end the competitive challenge from China. One reason that policymakers often characterize US-China relations as “a new Cold War” is that the prospect of a decisive resolution in Washington’s favor is more comforting to contemplate than a tense cohabitation that does not culminate, but simply persists.
Washington should recalibrate its mindset given that it will likely have to cohabitate with a powerful Beijing indefinitely. Three propositions could help it do so: (1) It is strategically risky to treat competition as an end unto itself, (2) efforts to slow China’s technological progress and organize a counterbalancing coalition will likely prove less effective over time, and (3) the China challenge can only go so far in orienting America’s foreign policy and mitigating its internal dysfunction.
The United States and China each have significant competitive strengths that the other cannot readily replicate. In addition, each is sufficiently strong to resist the imposition of the other’s dictates — yet insufficiently strong to impose its own. If the two countries manage to avert an armed confrontation, as they can and must, they will need to undertake the longer-term project of cohabitation. A good starting point for that effort is the counsel of John Fairbank, the dean of modern China studies, who has argued that although they might not be able to reconcile their respective conceptions of exceptionalism, they could coevolve on the basis of strategic empathy.
To that end, China must resist concluding that the United States is in terminal decline and recognize that Beijing’s coercive conduct compels many US allies and partners to strengthen their security ties with Washington — especially as those friends want to hope, even if they may not believe, that the Trump administration’s “America First” foreign policy will ultimately prove to be an aberration. For its part, the United States should appreciate not only that China’s challenge to Washington’s confidence is likely to endure — even if Chinese leader Xi Jinping’s successor adopts a more conciliatory foreign policy — but also that that challenge is likely to prove an insufficient guide for policymakers. A power that can only articulate its purposes by invoking a competitor has neither an affirmative vision to inspire others nor the self-confidence to renew itself.
Michael Poznansky, Associate Professor, Strategic and Operational Research Department, US Naval War College
Disclaimer: The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not represent those of the US Naval War College, the Department of the Navy, or the Department of Defense.
In my contribution to New Visions for Grand Strategy — “Back to the Future: The Case for Strengthening the Rules-Based Order” — I argue that for the United States to successfully navigate a renewed era of great power competition with China, it must not abandon the postwar liberal, or rules-based, international order (LIO). To the contrary, US policymakers should recommit to its core principles, particularly strategic restraint. This is the most effective way to strengthen one of America’s greatest assets in this competition: its extensive network of alliances.
The essay opens by explaining how allies provide critical advantages across multiple domains. Economically, the combined GDP of the US and its partners dwarfs that of China, and collective action makes tools like sanctions more potent. Geopolitically, allies provide critical access, basing, and overflight privileges that act as a force multiplier and enhance deterrence. In terms of generating capabilities, allies compensate for certain gaps in US defense industrial capacity.
To secure and deepen these critical alliances, military protection alone is insufficient. Allies need confidence that the US will wield its immense power predictably and with restraint. Abiding by the rules-based order provides this assurance. It signals that Washington is a trustworthy partner, not an unconstrained hegemon, making it a far more attractive partner than rivals.
The LIO, as originally conceived in the early Cold War, was built on self-restraint. By agreeing to be bound by agreed-upon rules, the US built legitimacy, drew a sharp contrast with the Soviet Union, and cultivated deep partnerships that ensured its success. In the unipolar moment, the absence of a peer competitor made policymakers more comfortable openly disregarding core rules and norms even in pursuit of ostensibly liberal goals. This behavior strained trust with the very allies that are now critical to outcompeting China. With competition once again dominating the international landscape, policymakers must relearn the lessons from the Cold War while avoiding its excesses.
The essay also addresses several common critiques of the LIO. For those who blame the postwar order for costly interventions and forever wars, I clarify that many of these actions — most notably the Iraq War — were violations of the rules-based order, not its logical endpoint. The LIO implies a hierarchy where established rules, such as those governing the use of force, predominate over the promotion of liberal values when the two conflict. For those who argue that the LIO subordinates US interests to global ones, I suggest that this takes too narrow a view of the national interest. The constraints the LIO imposes are precisely what enabled the US to build an order that helped it win the Cold War. In an era of competition, exercising power through consensus, legitimacy, and multilateral action — honey, not vinegar — is essential.
In sum, my essay calls for a renovation, not a rejection, of the postwar order. This does not mean the United States should abandon values like democracy and human rights. Instead, it should pursue them collectively within the system’s rules. When faced with challenges where US interests conflict with key rules and norms, Washington should exhaust multilateral options — such as seeking authorization from regional bodies or using Uniting for Peace resolutions in the UN General Assembly — before considering unilateral action. And of course, there is good reason to consider creative solutions for improving the LIO and fixing some of its major shortcomings. But the order itself has strong foundations and should be preserved.
A.J. Manuzzi, Program Associate, John Quincy Adams Society
As Bob Dylan once observed, one does not need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows. On American foreign policy, those winds are increasingly shifting in an unambiguously more restrained direction among younger Americans.
While this trend holds to some extent across both political parties, the generational gap on the Democratic side is notable as progressives look to construct a coherent progressive foreign policy framework that endures beyond the second Trump administration. As politics is increasingly defined by the divide along pro- and anti-system lines, a new generation of Democrats directs its ire at the foreign policy establishment and its guiding vision of primacy.
Gen Z’s worldview is influenced by early life experiences and the foreign policy issues that have dominated the news as they have come of age. While establishment figures romanticize the Cold War of their youth, Gen Z progressives’ points of reference are the late War on Terror and the onset of unbalanced multipolarity, in which the United States is a mere “first among equals” rather than the singular global hegemon. For young progressives, diplomacy with adversarial states is not a reward for good behavior, but rather the cost of doing business in a world of nuclear weapons and transnational security challenges. For them, it is elites standing athwart the winds of change, trying to save the project of Cold War liberalism, that ought to be considered radical and reactionary, not demanding a real peace dividend and winding down security commitments that entangle us in conflict or implicate us in war crimes.
Nowhere is this disconnect more evident than on the issue of the Gaza Strip. Young progressives are tired of Washington’s unconditional support for Israel amid a military campaign in Gaza that experts call a genocide, escalating settler violence in the West Bank, and persistent Israeli calls for a regime change war in Iran. The Israel that existed in the mind of Biden (a vulnerable upstart democratic outpost), these critics argue, does not exist in reality. Israel today is a nuclear weapons state with the region’s most modern, technologically advanced military backed by almost $4 billion in annual US military assistance. Polling demonstrates that younger voters are fed up with blank checks and double standards — according to a recent New York Times/Siena University poll, just 19% of respondents between the ages of 18 and 29 sympathize with the Israelis compared to 61% who sympathize with the Palestinians. According to the same poll, 68% of that same age cohort (as well as 62% of respondents between the ages of 30 and 44) oppose additional economic and military support for Israel. While the presence of elected officials representing this perspective is a bit of a lagging indicator, it is undeniable that as more members of the Gen Z cohort vote, organize, and run for office, the Democratic Party establishment is beginning to feel the heat.
Additionally, young progressives reject the false choice of unilateral “America First” militarism or barely reheated Cold War liberalism. Military Keynesianists argue that America is in an existential and ideological zero-sum great power competition and that war abroad is an economic boon here at home. Young progressives tend to see the world differently, wary of open-ended military commitments and insistent on the need for collaboration to address pressing transnational challenges like climate change and public health. This cohort of Americans have more modest goals for US policy as it relates to Russia and China. Recent polling also indicates that Gen Z Americans are more likely than the general public to say that the costs of maintaining US primacy exceed its benefits.
Why? Cold War liberalism was an elite project, transferring wealth from the public to the military-industrial complex while offloading the costs and risks from the Pentagon onto the American taxpayer. It is little wonder that an emerging electorate more critical of the political establishment in general opposes this elite project. Furthermore, “great power competition” is explicitly at cross-purposes with young progressives’ expressed desire to reduce great power tensions and stimulate great power cooperation on mutual areas of interest.
Finally, young progressives have a less sanguine view of a “new Cold War” tied to US domestic revival because of its potential domestic consequences. Making domestic renewal contingent on great power rivalry, to us, is (a) unnecessary, because social democracy has a constituency in the US that is independent of the threat paradigm and (b) counterproductive, because it incentivizes political elites to engage in threat inflation to sustain support for social democratic measures, making conflict more likely. This threat inflation ultimately empowers the far right, which relies upon it to wage repression campaigns against its enemies at home under the veneer of US interests (McCarthyism is the keystone example).
On one thing, Biden was right: This is no longer Scoop Jackson’s Democratic Party.