My Arctic Journey, Part 1: A Northern Perspective on World Politics and IR Theory

Two decades ago, the first of what has evolved into a full baker’s dozen of my published books went under contract, marking a shift from my prolific writing of articles and book chapters to much longer-winded and more in-depth and nuanced format for theoretical reflection. While I started out my life of scholarship as an IR Theorist, it was my field-based works on Arctic geopolitics, international relations and multilevel governance that came to press first, and which in turn deeply influenced my approach to IR Theory (as discussed previously in “My Realist Journey.”) Below, I will explore the chapter of my life of scholarship that emerged from my Arctic journey, away from the groupthink of Cold War-era IR Theory, as informed and inspired by the Arctic as a distinct and alternative model for world politics and IR Theory.

In this retrospective journey through my books on Arctic international relations and multilevel governance, “My Arctic Journey,” I extract and develop a comprehensive macro-theory of international relations (IR) and geopolitical order based on my decades of research in and on the Arctic. Across my oeuvre of published books and articles, I present a shift away from top-down, state-centric and (IMHO) overly fatalistic Westphalianisn toward a bottom-up model of collaborative sovereignty and stability. My work in IR Theory discussed above (“My Realist Journey”) bridges the gap between raw, material realism and identity-driven constructivism through Constructive Realism, which informs my understanding of Arctic IR and multilevel governance, rooted in the durability and salience of tribal polities in world politics, yielding what I call Fourth Image Theory, an innovative framework that explains, describes and predicts how sub-state actors ultimately anchor global politics.  

The literature and core concepts I have developed follow an interconnected trajectory across my oeuvre of published works:

  • Breaking the Ice (2008): In this book, I establish the historical and theoretical foundation of my work, examining how indigenous populations in Alaska and Northern Canada transitioned from marginalized groups into central actors in Arctic governance. I introduce the concept of sovereign duality (or hybrid sovereignty) to show how comprehensive land claim agreements (LCAs) allowed native communities to balance ancient traditional frameworks with modern Westernized corporate and public government systems without losing their cultural identity.  
  • On Thin Ice (2009): Transitioning directly to international relations theory, I use this work to introduce my “Fourth Image”—the tribal or sub-state indigenous level of analysis—to correct a structural blind spot in Kenneth Waltz’s traditional three-image framework. Using the rapid geopolitical changes of the polar thaw, I illustrate the successful synthesis of tribe and state, highlighting how a nation’s Arctic sovereignty relies heavily on continuous indigenous occupancy and co-management systems. I also issue a warning regarding the potential for “Inuit fundamentalism” if socioeconomic gaps widen between indigenous corporate elites and remote local communities.  
  • Arctic Doom, Arctic Boom (2009/2010): Here, I shift to a macro-level evaluation of the geopolitical impacts of climate change, presenting the melting ice cap as a structural double-edged sword. I contrast the “Doom” of ecological and cultural disruptions with the “Boom” of newly exposed maritime routes and oil reserves, framing the thawing Arctic Ocean as a “New Mediterranean” transit basin where resource-rich indigenous corporations have the leverage to become the new “Saudi Royals” of the polar world.  
  • Arctic Exceptionalism: Cooperation in a Contested World (2024): In this recent update, written in the wake of the post-2022 freeze of the Arctic Council, I mount a robust, realist defense of the Arctic as an enduring zone of peace. I argue that the region’s hostile environment makes unilateral conflict logistically prohibitive, naturally forcing states toward cooperation. I also critique southern defense establishments for “threat inflation” and for executing a performative “staged Great Game”.  
  • Additionally, across a prolific mix of theoretical essays, such as “Tribe, State, and War: Balancing the Subcomponents of World Order,” book chapters, and multi-volume book series (such as my States of Mind project in addition to my books on the Arctic), I formalize my theory of Constructive Realism as well as Fourth Image Theory. From these, I deconstruct world order into a taxonomy with three key pillars: the Organic (natural cultural/kinship foundations), the Synthetic (artificial administrative frameworks), and the Ethereal (ideational or spiritual doctrines).  

Upon this structural foundation, I define the various entities that emerge when these components interact, contrasting brittle, artificially engineered regimes (ESSLEs, or Ephemeral Synthetic State-Level Entities) with cohesive, historically aligned nation-states (POSLEs). Ultimately, my work culminates in the concept of Persistent Organic Sub-State Entities (POSSEs, or Persistent Organic State-Level Entities)—a highly resilient, self-defending unit (such as an Arctic indigenous corporation or a localized tribal matrix) that fuses all three subcomponents to survive a “State of Siege” and anchor fragile national institutions from the ground up.

My Realist Journey: Looking Back Upon 2,500 Years of Realist Theory as America Turns 250

Part 1: An American State of Mind

It’s amazing how fast 250 years can go by!

Celebrating America’s 250th anniversary since its momentous Declaration of Independence certainly makes a quarter millennium feel like the blink of an eye. Especially after the triumph of people power brought President Trump back into office in a sweeping indictment of the deep state and its subversion of American values and constitutional principles.

Ultimately, the American experience has been an experiment in achieving a realist vision of the world, and crafting a modern republic built upon the same balanced “trinity of power” (a liberating alignment of the people, the state and the armed forces) that has empowered the Western order since the days of Socrates, Plato and Xenophon.

But to fully grok the universal significance of the American experiment, we must look back not just 250 years, but much farther — to the start of the Western experiment 2,500 years ago!

And it just so happens that I have penned just such a retrospective analysis, originally (before the Cold War ended) called Visions of Order, a three-volume work (Volume 1: State of Hope; Volume 2: State of Fear; and Volume 3: State of Awe); and later, States of Mind, an expanded four-volume work with the added volume, State of Siege, which soon again expanded to include a fifth, sixth and seventh volume, State of Chaos, State of Doom and State of Recovery. 

My original three-volume treatise (Visions of Order) concluded, in State of Awe, with the bipolar Cold War peace, and was penned in the mid-to-late 1980s, coming to completion just as Cold War ended, collapsing the seemingly millennial era of bipolarity (like all such millennial dreams of everlasting order), and with the swiftness of that collapse, unmasking neorealism and most other Cold War IR theories (with notable exceptions like Regime Theory) as brittle ideological dogmas masquerading as theories.

Visions of Order was going to be my dissertation, a rebuttal of Ken Waltz’s neorealism written under Waltz’s apoplectic supervision (he hated it, but at the same time, loved it, but mostly hated it!) His other students were unwilling to stand up to him, and he loved a good debate (as Scott Sagan came to appreciate with their post- Cold War debate on nuclear proliferation). But when the Cold War ended, imploding the now obsolete field of Soviet and East European Studies, and unmasking a whole generation of IR theorists as delusional navel-gazers and Waltzian butt-kissers, I proposed a new subfield in Circumpolar Studies to replace the now-obsolete field of Soviet and East European Studies (itself a fiction of Russian imperialist fantasy), but was laughed at by the pompous defenders of obsolete subfields.

Rather than kick a dead horse, I hopped on my 250cc Honda Rebel motorbike and road up the Alaska Highway to Whitehorse, and from their up the Klondike Highway to Dawson, and from there up the Dempster Highway to Inuvik on the Mackenzie River Delta near the Beaufort Sea Coast, where over the next decade I penned another three-volume treatise on the foundations of international relations, based upon my observations and experiences in the Western Arctic (and which is discussed in the companion to this retrospective theoretical memoir, “My Arctic Journey.”)

Two decades later, as the dust and debris of 9/11 was settling, I pulled out my handwritten draft of my completed, three-volume Visions of Order on spiral bound notebooks, and hired a wonderful typist on Craigslist to digitize the manuscript for me for the Internet era, with the idea of adding new volumes to bring what I was now calling States of Mind up to date (as both tribute to, and defiant mockery of, the nonsensical, and overly ideological, Constructivist school that has colonized the hive mind of academia after neorealism became obsolete with the 1989 fall of the Berlin Wall to people power.)

As my updated expanded treatise approached completion, I decided it was time to publish it. Waltz was still alive, and still beating the dead horse of neorealism, even arguing in The New York Times that an Iranian bomb would be good for world peace. Though too late to become a dissertation under his supervision, he did enthusiastically agree to serve as an external reader, but unfortunately passed away before the public defense, owing to an overly eager junior faculty member insisting on yet another revision to bring the work current with the literature, since I wrote the first draft just before the end of the Cold War, resulting in a year delay that we simply did not have as Waltz’s precarious health deteriorated.

With Waltz no longer with us, I refocused my attention on State of Awe, in tribute to Waltz, and wrote the expanded State of Doom which further evolved into a strategic biography of Bernard Brodie, a contemporary of Waltz’s who did for deterrence and strategic theory what Waltz did for IR theory: wedded it to the existential nuclear challenge of the post-Hiroshima world.

States of Mind further evolved into what ultimately became a seven-volume treatise and I ended up dividing the work in two to ensure the entire work could be published. Praeger Security International agreed to publish the original Visions of Order with the addition of the post-9/11 State of Siege, while Continuum Books agreed to publish State of Doom, State of Chaos, and State of Recovery.

Thus, in 2011, my four-volume, twenty-five century chronicle of realism across the ages (The Realist Tradition in International Relations: The Foundations of Western Order) came to press—the first part of my seven-volume States of Mind project. In it, I present a sweeping and provocative (if I do say so myself!) reinterpretation of realist theory.

Challenging the systems-centric neorealist tradition of structural realism as articulated by Waltz—one of the two most stubborn mentors I’ve ever had, the other being Gene Sharp, another realist thinker of Waltz’s generation who was as unyielding on strategic nonviolence as Waltz was on systemic structure—I frame the evolution of realist thought through the eyes of two-and-a-half millennia of individual realist thinkers and their respective quests to tame the chaos of their times, from the era of city-states and classical empires to global nuclear superpowers, yielding an evolving but strikingly consistent philosophical and theoretical tradition.

I conclude that the foundations of world order are built upon these evolving “states of mind” that correspond to distinct historical eras and their respective technologies, strategies and paradigms of warfare. I organized this framework into four distinct “states of mind,” each examined in its own volume, capturing how political leaders, philosophers, and strategists responded to, and yearned to transcend, the chaos of their times.

Volume 1: State of Hope: Order in the Age of Classical War

  • The Era: Classical Antiquity (tracing back to Thucydides and ancient Greece).
  • The Concept: This state of mind emerges from a baseline of supreme geopolitical chaos. It is a “state of hope” because it represents humanity’s earliest philosophical efforts to conceptualize, predict, and ultimately tame international anarchy. Rather than accepting perpetual vulnerability, classical realism sought the intellectual foundations necessary to construct a predictable, sustainable balance of power out of raw conflict.

Volume 2: State of Fear: Order in the Age of Limited War

  • The Era: The early-modern period through the Enlightenment (and the rise of the Westphalian states system).
  • The Concept: Driven by a collective psychological dread of endless religious and civil bloodbaths (such as the Thirty Years’ War), this state of mind prioritized survival and stability above all else. This collective “fear” directly catalyzed the birth of the modern sovereign nation-state. By monopolizing violence and establishing strict borders, states constrained the scope of conflict, transitioning the world into an era of structured, “limited” warfare governed by clear diplomatic rules.

Volume 3: State of Awe: Order in the Age of Total War

  • The Era: The 20th century through the Cold War (both World Wars and the nuclear age).
  • The Concept: The rise of absolute industrialized warfare and the advent of the atomic bomb shifted humanity into a state of psychological “awe”—a paralyzing realization of our capacity for total self-destruction. Realist strategy during this period evolved to manage unprecedented systemic danger. It gave rise to the philosophy of nuclear deterrence and strategic stability, where order was paradoxically maintained through the terrifying equilibrium of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD).

Volume 4: State of Siege: Order in the Age of Insurgency

  • The Era: The post-Cold War and post-9/11 contemporary world.
  • The Concept: This modern state of mind reflects the fragmentation of the traditional nation-state’s monopoly on security. As globalized networks, tribal factions, and asymmetric actors rose up against Western modernization, states found themselves in a perpetual “state of siege” from within and below. This era shifts the realist focus away from massive, state-on-state clashes toward navigating non-state insurgencies, counter-terrorism, and localized border friction.

Some Monday Links

Is taxation theft? (Aeon)

Who Controls What Books You Can Read? (Reason)

The Rule of Law, Firm Size, and Family Firms (FED St Luis)

20 Movies That’ll Remind You the Government Can’t Be Trusted (Life Hacker)

Some Monday Links

Science fiction, cont.

Jobs and Class of Main Characters in Science Fiction (Vector)

Steampunk: How this subgenre of science fiction challenges the beliefs of civilisational progress (Scroll)

Have yet to actually read a steampunk book, Mistborn notwithstanding. Was about to buy “The Difference Machine”, but last minute I opted for the history/ fiction hybrid of “Red Plenty” (one of the books I keep returning to, btw, very rewarding read).

Presidents as Economic Managers (National Affairs)

South Korea: Why so many struggle to sleep (BBC)

Monday’s literal fantasies

Sciences of “Dune”: An Introduction (LA Review of Books)

A symposium on Dune’s medicine, ethnography, eugenics and others.

Why Do We Love the Brutality of “Grimdark” Fantasy? (LitHub)

Have neither read ASoIaF nor watched GoT, but I will leave the root of word “grimdark” here: In the grim darkness of far future there is only war.

On Tolkien and Orwell (Darcy Moore)

More common points than just “being peculiarly English authors with evergreen book sales“.

Ursula K. Le Guin’s biography gets a publisher and a release date (Oregon Live)

Just finished The Dispossessed, the 1974 SF novel by Le Guin. A worthy, humane read, definitely. Apart from the beautiful prose, the setting is compelling. Two planets: Urras, complete with states, money and war, and Anarres, a former mining outpost turned to colony by settlers from Urras. Governments of Urras offered to people adhering to the teachings of a semi-legendary woman (“Laia Asieo Odo”) the colony, so that they could do their thing without disrupting “civil order”. Le Guin explains:

Odonianism is anarchism. Not the bomb-in-the-pocket stuff, which is terrorism, whatever name it tries to dignify itself with; not the social-Darwinist economic “libertarianism” of the far right; but anarchism as prefigured in early Taoist thought, and expounded by Shelley and Kropotkin, Goldman and Goodman. Anarchism’s principal target is the authoritarian State (capitalist or socialist); its principal moral-practical theme is cooperation (solidarity, mutual aid). It is the most idealistic, and to me the most interesting, of all political theories.

Source

The book follows a scientist from the anarchist planet who travels to the old world. The chapters alternate between his interactions there and flashbacks from his homeland. The writer paints the capitalist state, that hosts the traveler, as funky, but sinister (she does not spare a neighboring socialist one, either), while she treats the anarchist world more generously. It even gives it some, let’s say, additional leeway, contrasting its arid, hostile landscape with the lush environment of Urras. The dichotomy is furthered by guarantees of isolation: The two worlds only do some limited communications and trade, no traveling in-between.

The outline of life in Anarres was the most interesting aspect, to me. Trust, mutuality and personal freedom are the basic elements in this anarchist society, which prides itself against those competitive, “archists”, “propertarians” of Urras. They also fear and loathe them (acknowledging that Anarres is practically defenseless at the face of tactical armies), and also need to trade with them ores for necessary goods.

The constructed language of Anarres expresses the core beliefs, for example, it uses “central” instead of “higher”, to denote significance in the absence of hierarchies. The word for “work” is the same as “play” (or was it “joy”?), and the really unpleasant tasks are shared on a rotating basis. This means that specialized and unspecialized individuals alike spend some considerable time laboring for society’s wellbeing. Professions are conducted through syndicates, which form and dissolve voluntarily. Individuals move freely across the planet’s communities. There is a unit that coordinates production, work postings and resources allocation (a Gosplan-lite, if you take away the imposing building and that 5-year fetish). It also has powers like emergency work postings in times of need (the closest thing to quasi-official “compulsion” in a society without the notion of it). Serial slackers deserve food and shelter, like anyone else, but at some point will probably get their asses kicked by their peers and/ or pressed to fuck-off to another location.

Only the original Gosplan deserved a fancy garage like this – source

Each individual is responsible to the others. This simple standard of meeting social expectations, benevolent as it is at first, in the novel is seen as gradually taking the shape of an “orthodoxy” placed, and finally encroaching, upon individual freedom. The writer is also keen to pinpoint the effects of creeping hierarchies, even in organizations open to participation. For example, an anarchist argues that the coordination unit has assumed the bureaucratic attitude (“no to everything”). Other institutions, like research centers, are seen festering with dug-in cliques and “seniors”, that fend-off outsiders and boss around among supposedly equals. I think that anyone who has experienced office life can relate to this.

There is more, about self, relations, gender (not The Left Hand of Darkness – not read, or Tehanu – read, level), constraints and science (the last I cannot judge). A final note, the people of Anarres describe themselves as anarchists, Odonians and, of course, libertarians.

Some Monday Links

Burning the witch (New Humanist)

Not as funny as it may sound.

Will nudge theory survive the pandemic? (UnHerd)

From an ex-member of the UK Nudge Unit:

[I]t may be worth reflecting on where we need to draw the line between the choice-maximizing nudges of libertarian paternalism, and the creeping acceptance among policy makers that the state should use its heft to influence our lives without the accountability of legislative and parliamentary scrutiny.

Why Do We Return to the Greek Myths Again and Again? (LitHub)

Olympus, Texas?

French Socialism Embraced Neoliberalism and Signed Its Death Warrant (Jacobin)

The usual disclaimers on the use of term neoliberalism apply.

The Periodic Table of Commodity Returns (2012-2021) (Visual Capitalist)

Book list triple threat

Neither new books, nor in any particular order. Hell, did not even read them all in 2021.

Fiction

  • Mistborn trilogy – Gripping enough, long slog, well-thought magic system. (Brandon Sanderson)
  • The Alloy of Law, a sequel that became the 1st part of another Mistborn trilogy. Gritty steampunk setting, the mix & match of magic powers didn’t do it for me. Meh. (Brandon Sanderson)
  • Reckoners trilogy – Almost fine for YA. Forgettable. (Brandon Sanderson)
  • Earthsea Quartet – Rich and beautiful, seems a bit dated or familiar, since it set standards encountered in later works in the genre. (Ursula Le Guin)
  • Farseer trilogy – Intricate world building, the 1st person POV suits. Curiously, the 2nd book is the best of the series. (Robin Hobb)

Prose-wise, Le Guin and Hobb lead by a wide margin vs Sanderson. The two also go beyond the usual hack-n-slash and shed light to the more mundane labors of daily life in a largely medieval world. A documentary on castles/ forests/ ports could certainly use a few of Hobb’s descriptions and terms.

  • The Lacquer Screen – A detective novel set in Imperial China, of a particular subgenre called gong’an. I enjoyed the ambience of Tang period, while the whole read is quite old-fashioned. (Robert van Gulik)

Comic Books

  • Watchmen – Superb. (Moore/ Gibbons)
  • Batman: The Dark Knight Returns – I expected to like it more, I think. (Miller)
  • Blacksad (#1-5, integrated version) – Sublime artwork, storylines good but uneven. I had already read #1-3 some 15 years ago. (Canales/ Guarnido)

On the pile

  • The dispossessed (Ursula Le Guin)
  • Watership Down (Richard Adams)
  • Ship of Magic (Robin Hobb)
  • Superman: Red Son (Millar/ Johnson/ Robinson/ Wong/ Plunkett)
  • Batman: White Knight (Murphy)

And a sole non-fiction entrant to the pile:

  • The Body: A Guide for Occupants (Bill Bryson)

Second Nature

Michael Pollan gets me. Highly edumacated middle class white guy whose in to food and gardening. Last year I read Omnivore’s Dilemma and became convinced that Pollan occupies essentially the same position as me (challenging my preconceptions): the humble anarchist. Pollan has a sense of emergence, and skepticism of the beneficiaries of government policy. He might not take public positions as an anarchist, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see Ol’ Spooner’s ghost whispering in his ear.

This Christmakwanzakkah I read an older book of his. Second Nature is his record of the same experiences I’m currently going through as a gardener. This is from way back in 1991, and in it gives some evidence that he might be an epistemological anarchist:

As it happens, the etymology of the word true takes us back to the old English word for “tree”: a truth, to the Anglo-Saxons, was nothing more than a deeply rooted idea.

p. 159

Here he is appreciating emergent order in markets:

More than a work of art, I like to think of the garden as if it were a capitalist economy, inherently unstable, prone to cycles of boom and bust. Even the most prosperous times contain the seeds of future disaster. A flush year in the perennial border usually means lean times ahead; now spent, the perennial need dividing and won’t peak again for two years. Unless pruned in spring, my asters, phlox, and delphinium willput out way too many shoots, a form of herbaceous inflation that will cheapen all their blooms come summer. Wealth is constantly being created and destroyed in the garden, but the accounts never blanace for very long–a shortage of nutrients develops in this sector, a surplus in that one, the value of water fluctates wildly. Who could hope to orchestrate, much less master, so boisterous an assembly of the self-interested? The gardener’s lot is to try to get what he wants from his plants while they go heedlessly about getting what they want. …

The garden is an unhappy place for the perfectionist. Too much stands beyond our control here, and the only thing we can absolutely count on is eventual catastrophe. Success in the garden is the moment in time, that week in June when the perennials unanimously bloom and the border jells, or those clarion days in September when the reds riot in the tomato patch–just before the black frost hits. It’s easy to get discouraged, unless, like the green thumb, you are happier to garden in time than in space; unless, that is, your heart is in the verb. For the garden is never done–the weeds you pull today will return tomorrow, a new generation of aphids will step forward to avenge the ones you’ve slain, and everything you plant–everything–sooner or later will die. Among the many, many things the green thumb knows is the consolation of the compost pile, where nature, ever obliging, redeems this season’s deaths and disasters in the fresh promise of next spring.

p. 131-2

Pollan is showing as a great an ability to appreciate the market as a process as any Austrian economist.

Physical Goods, Immaterial Goods, and Public Goods

Public goods in economics have been a contentious theoretical issue since Paul Samuelson introduced the concept in 1954. The main sources of contention are what real world things are public goods, and who should provide them. In this post I propose a new way of looking at goods that will shed light on why public goods have posed such a problem. In particular, I propose that there is an important distinction between physical goods and immaterial goods; that public goods can only be immaterial goods; and that this unique feature of public goods does not preclude the market to provide the “socially optimal level.

Introduction

Economists define a public good as something that is “non-rival” (meaning that one person’s consumption does not affect another person’s), and “non-excludable” (meaning that one person cannot stop another person from consuming the good.) Public goods are often contrasted with private goods, which are rival and excludable.

The implications are that public goods cannot be provided by a free market, because no one would have to pay for such a good, and so there would be so incentive to produce it. Therefore, the argument goes, the government ought to provide public goods.

Features_of_goods

An example of a private good is an apple. Imagine a world with just you, me, and an apple. If I take a bite out of the apple, there is now less apple for you to consume. That means it’s rival. If I put the apple in a locker to which only I know the combination, then again you are prevented from consuming the apple. This makes it excludable.  Continue reading