Is there a contemporary crisis of
the nation state?
Formulating the question
Nations consist of those who belong together by birth (genetically, lineally, through familially inherited language and culture). States consist of
those who are fully subject to their own sovereign legal authority. A true
nation state, therefore, would consist only of those who belonged to it by
birth and of those who were fully subject to its sovereign legal authority.
By this (for practical purposes, no doubt absurdly stipulative) criterion it
is unlikely that there is a single nation state in the world at present, and
moderately unlikely that any such state has ever existed. But, as with most
political ideas, the force of the idea of the nation state has never come
principally from its descriptive precision. What it offers is a precarious
fusion of two very different modes of thinking: one explicitly subjective,
urgent and identificatory, and the other presumptively objective,
detached and independent of the vagaries of popular consciousness. (It is
hard to exaggerate the shaping impact of this second mode in forming the
category of state (Skinner 1989).) Common birth is both a ground for,
and a source of, allegiance. External authority is a device for furnishing
protection. Taken together, they furnish a basis for rulers and subjects to
live together with greater imaginative ease than either party would be
likely to draw from the other taken separately: a contemporary version of
xhepactum subjectionis (chapter 3 above).
It is unsurprising that this unsteady mixture has proved unsuitable for
clear analytical thought. But its analytical debility has been no bar to
ideological or practical potency. The ideas that every nation should have
its own state and that every state should be a single nation (Gellner 1983;
Anderson 1983) may not have much solid merit either as normative or as
practical proposals. But between them they have made a great deal of the
political history of the twentieth century.1
Each of the three great geopolitical shifts of this century - the First World War and its aftermath, the Second World War and the unravelling of European empire which succeeded it, and the collapse of communism in eastern Europe and
decomposition of the Soviet Union - has drastically extended the nation
state as a political format and strongly reinforced it as an ideological
option.
Why, then, has it come to be a commonplace of contemporary political
journalism that the nation state is today somehow in crisis: palpably
unable to master problems which it once handled with aplomb, incapable
of ensuring an order of its own (ecological, economic, civil, even spiritual)
on its subjects' behalf, baffled by the novel challenges of a turbulent
global economy and a decaying global habitat?
The first question to press in this context is whether the journalistic
commonplace is in fact valid. Has there been, for some specifiable set of
reasons, a clear deterioration in the capacity of the nation state format to
master the hazards to the security and prosperity of its subjects, in
comparison with some distinct and earlier phase in modern history? Has
there been some definite change in the sources or intensity of such
hazards, sufficient to render a long-serviceable formula, normative or
practical, palpably inadequate to control dangers which it once met with
relative serenity? The first view locates the crisis in a diminution of the
power of the nation state as such - a clear lessening in either its normative
appeal or its practical capacity (or, of course, in both). The second locates
the crisis in a sharp rise in the acuity or scale of the hazards which now
confront its subjects.
The least plausible of these hypotheses is the claim that the practical
capabilities of states today in any general fashion fall short of those of
their predecessors. Such a claim is not simply absurd. There have been
forceful arguments that modern political and economic organization has
a strong internal impetus towards immobilism, an impetus which can be
reversed only by massive disruption (war, conquest, perhaps large-scale
natural disaster) (Olson 1982). At a more ideological level, also, the rightwing economistic critique of rent-seeking and of the allegedly inherent
economic inefficiency of state as opposed to market distribution2
has
achieved considerable impact in many settings over the last two decades.
But it is hard to see firm grounds in any of these lines of thought for
judging that the intrinsic practical efficacy of modern state forms has
deteriorated over the last half century.
Far more plausible is the judgement that the present sense of crisis in
the efficacy of the nation state comes from a resonance between two very different types of shift: a fading in all but the most extreme settings (typically those of armed conflict) in the normative appeals of the idea of the
nation state, and a brusque rise in awareness of a series of new and
formidable challenges (economic, ecological, military, political, even cultural) the scope of which plainly extends far beyond national boundaries
and effectively ensures that they cannot be successfully met within such
boundaries. Seen this way, the sense of crisis, whether well judged or otherwise, is at least easy to understand. It is a sense, above all, of political
crisis: crisis in the efficacy of political action (cf. Dunn 1990a, chapter 8).
It is in the nature of politics that new political challenges should arise
all the time. But some such challenges are manifestly far more formidable
than others. It is most unlikely that the causal capabilities of the nation
state as an organizational format should have declined significantly and
persistently in conditions of peace and appreciable long-term economic
growth. But even in these conditions the combination of drastic new challenges and inherently limited inherited powers of action might easily have
lessened the normative appeal of the repository of those powers and
should rationally have impaired the practical self-confidence of national
governing elites. Even if this emergent sense of political inadequacy did
not in itself impair the normative appeal of the state form in question, it
might readily expose the intrinsic limitations of that appeal in the face of
the far harsher demands which are now placed upon it. Whatever else
might be needed to meet them effectively, the drastic new challenges of
global interdependence plainly require vigorous political action: a preparedness on the part of immense numbers of human beings to alter substantially and rapidly major aspects of how they choose to behave. Such
changes place formidable strains on the political capacities of any human
population. There may be a reason (perhaps inherent in global economic
rationalization or in the dawning awareness of environmental peril) why
the normative appeal of the idea of the nation state as such is already
weakening. But even if it were not (indeed, even if it is not), it might still
be true that the novel challenges of rapid global transformation would
pose strains on the nation state, as an arena in which to concert political
action, far greater (and perhaps unmanageably more severe) than those
which have previously faced it.
The immediate appeal of the idea of nation has nothing in particular to
do with efficacy. We may not like, or choose to espouse, the social relations
into which we are born. But we are born into them, whether we like it or
not; and their claims are there, to embrace or to reject, quite independently of any practical impact on our own life chances. But the
immediate appeal of the idea of the state is virtually confined to the
latter's presumed efficacy (Skinner 1989). States which are in fact effective in promoting the security of their subjects undoubtedly win (and
deserve)3
- a higher degree of loyalty than those that fail lamentably to
furnish anything of the kind. But even states that notably fail to furnish
security (even Iraq (Makiya 1993)3
o r
Myanmar or the Republic of
Somalia) are compelled today to pretend not merely to wish to do so, but
to be within realistic reach of at least becoming able to do so. Because this
is so, the normative appeal of the idea of the state is inherently vulnerable
to a sense of political crisis, and the practical dissipation of such a sense
through effective political action is greatly impeded by any prolonged
weakening in the normative appeal of the state as a system of agency.
It may be difficult to judge whether or not particular states (or even all
states considered together) are or are not for the present gaining or losing
in the practical ability to handle the collective predicaments of their own
subjects (see chapter 10 above). But it is extremely easy to judge that there
is widespread and disagreeable suspicion across the even minimally politically concerned populations of most countries in the world at present,
from career politicians and high-ranking state officials to the most reluctant and despondent of voters, that their own states (and perhaps most
other states also) are at present palpably weakening in their capacity to
cope with these predicaments. At the limit, a sense of political crisis converges with the objective dynamics of state collapse - with revolution (cf.
Dunn 1989; Dunn 1990a, chapter 6) or descent into the state of nature
(Liberia, Somalia, much of Afghanistan). It is clear for the present that all
the OECD states (for example) are very far indeed from collapse, and
even further from revolution. But it is perhaps equally clear not merely
that their practical adequacy for many purposes is genuinely subjectively
in doubt in the eyes of their own subjects, but also that this adequacy may
in addition be quite objectively in doubt.
A prevailing sense of political crisis is volatile and potentially misleading, an unreliable tracer of real changes in economic, social and even
political circumstances. But it is also a political factor in itself, and
capable under some conditions of exerting its own causal force in reshaping or dismantling political arenas: consider the recent decomposition of
Italy's postwar political system and the emergent challenge to Japan's for
long remarkably successful postwar conservative hegemony.4
At this level,
accordingly, the journalistic commonplace that there exists a contemporary crisis of the nation state might well prove virtually self-validating. By
being reiterated, and through coming to be believed, it could make itself rue: consider, for example, the backwash from the Maastricht agreement. Because a sense of political crisis is itself an important political
phenomenon, it is certainly pertinent to study its sources and its potential
consequences. But, if we wish to understand what is going on in contemporary politics, it is likely in the long run to prove more rewarding to concentrate principally on the more external and objective features of the
contemporary situation of nation states.
Locating crisis
Every actual nation state is both a somewhat hazy amalgam of at least two
constitutive ideas and a disorderly, complex and profoundly opaque fact
(Dunn 1990a, Introduction; Dunn 1985, Introduction). If we are to determine how far, and in what sense, the nation state is today in crisis, we first
need to consider whether the prevailing sense of its being in crisis (if and
where this does prevail) comes principally from the ideas or principally
from the facts. Whether at the level of ideas or at the level of facts, it is
inherently unlikely that all nation states should ever be equally in crisis at
the same time. (A world in which they were so would already have
become one in which the hazards to the human species were palpably
beyond the reach of human powers to meet: a condition of uncontrollable
biological or physical catastrophe, a planet which now precluded life, the
heat death of the universe.) In the world of today, incontrovertibly, some
states (Liberia, Somalia, Angola, Afghanistan) are far more in crisis than
others (Switzerland, Singapore). As far as we know, this has always been
true in the past; and we still have dismayingly little reason to expect that it
will ever cease to be true in the future.
The judgement that the nation state is today in crisis is not founded on
the experience of the feeblest of contemporary states (cf. Cruise O'Brien
et al 1989, Introduction and Conclusion). There is nothing either in the
idea of a nation or in that of a state to ensure that Liberia or Chad will ever
be firmly viable again (even though Liberia, for example, had in some
respects a longer continuous political history than any other single subSaharan state in Africa before it first slipped into anomic military tyranny
and then dissolved into competitive banditry).5
We should not be surprised that ideas alone prove insufficient to ensure peace and prosperity
for any human population, even though the idea of the state, both at the
level of ideological pretension and at the level of international law (Vincent 1990)3 inhibits the acknowledgement of such insufficiency with
some obduracy. But in a world in which human populations are technically compelled to live on terms of ever greater intimacy with one
another, the inability to guarantee minimal security to particular populations may prove over time an important threat to the appeals of ideas
through which their interests are supposedly protected.
In this respect there is an important asymmetry between the ideas of
nation and state. In conditions of adversity, nation might become a
purely passive category, a pure community of suffering. But even in
conditions of adversity, the category of state retains in itself both a claim
to be an agent and a corresponding burden of responsibility. Settings in
which the idea of the state carries no factual structure of effective agency
along with it (Cruise O'Brien et al. 1989, Conclusion; Hawthorn 1994)
threaten the chances of their inhabitants to act together strategically and
effectively in the face of their predicament. But they also threaten the
prospects for the normalizing political instruments of the world economy
(the IMF, the World Bank) to prevent concomitant disruption in the
latter's trade and credit flows.The ending of the ColdWar has left a world
of less imminent eschatological horror (cf. Bracken 1982), but also one
of even more discomfiting tension between social intimacy, gross disparities in human misery, and limited political and military capability and
will to alleviate the misery or even suspend the intimacy (see chapter 8
above).
In itself the fact that some parts of the world are at present in no condition to instantiate convincingly the category of the state is conspicuously
worse news for those parts of the world than it is for the category of the
state. But if we consider the role of that category in articulating relations
between states - horizontally and globally, rather than vertically and
locally - local inefficacy may in the end prove a major impediment to the
capacity of states in happier settings to furnish the services which they too
purport to supply. (It is an important question about the realist strand in
the understanding of international relations whether (or how far) its trenchantly zero-sum conception of the nature of these relations makes it
obtuse to this possibility.) Where it plainly is unviable in practice, therefore, there is more than one way in which the failure of the nation state
may react back on its appeal as an idea in less beleaguered settings. But
even if these negative reactions do more on balance to impair its appeal
than they do to reinforce it (which is far from evident), we can be confident that a sense of political crisis in the core countries of the OECD has
not arisen from the travails of Liberia or Somalia (or indeed even from the
uncomfortable experience of post-communism from Saxony to Bosnia
and Vladivostok).
Nationhood
In this ampler, and for the moment altogether more comfortable, setting
is it reasonable to see a sense of political crisis as emanating in any degree
from the properties of the idea of the nation state? To answer this question, we need to consider its two core constitutive ideas in turn. The idea
of a nation is that of a community of birth (in more liberal interpretation,
perhaps, a community of birth and mutual choice). But actually existing
nation states (as with actually existing socialism (Dunn 1984)) are altogether scruffier than this: medleys of birth, mutual choice, provisional
instrumental exploitation approximately within the law, and vigorous
manipulative penetration from well outside it. In idea, membership of a
nation should be wholly uncontentious; a brute matter of fact, and prior
to (a premiss of) any conceptualization of interest. In fact, however, few
things are more contentious (already) in the more prosperous of modern
nation states than who exactly at any particular time is entitled to full
membership of the nation; and conflicts of interest over this question
(while hard to demarcate either stably or accurately) are acute and
intensely inflammatory (see chapter 9 above). (Consider the prospective
impact of the NAFTA free trade agreement, especially upon relations
between Mexico and the USA.) These conflicts have increased; they are
increasing; and there is no reason whatever to expect them to diminish for
the foreseeable future.
As a fact, the nation state is a rough and ready mechanism for furnishing a set of real services (Gellner 1983). But the relation between fact and
idea is increasingly slack; and there are no imaginative or analytical
resources within the idea to alleviate the increasingly prominent strains
within the fact. It may in the end prove important that the idea of nation
should be so conspicuously exposed from two very different angles. From
a realist viewpoint it is too vague and too sentimental to serve convincingly as a device for assessing interests (but cf. Weber 1980). From a
liberal viewpoint it is too particularist in taste and too recklessly submissive to contingency to serve as a device for interpreting value for
human beings.6
But these threats, if threats they are, are as yet scarcely
imminent. While it is reasonable to suppose that the idea of nationhood
should be under somewhat greater practical strain as a framework for
organizing collective action in conditions of massive and (at the receiving
end) largely involuntary external penetration of citizenship as well as with unpleasantly slack national labour markets, the strictly civic aspect of
such conditions is still in most OECD countries more a fear about the
future than a fact about the present.
Statehood
Insofar as a sense of crisis emanates from the properties of these two key
ideas, therefore, it is reasonable to assume that it must be coming less
from a weakening in the appeals of the idea of the nation than from a lessening in the cogency (normative or practical) of the idea of the state.
Crisis at the periphery
There are two main doubts about the state, both certainly as old as the
concept itself, and each clearly foreshadowed in the historical experience of
the miscellany of large-scale political units which preceded its full formulation and to which the concept has since been regularly applied (cf. chapter 4
above). The first is a doubt about the intentions of those who at any given
time direct state power: a scepticism that these intentions are in the case in
question (or usually, or often, or ever), as benign as they are fulsomely proclaimed to be. We can be confident in the face of this doubt, that there
remain ample grounds for entertaining it; but we can be at least equally confident that the chances of the doubt's being in general better founded now
than it has been for the last three and a half centuries are slight.7The second
(and perhaps even weightier) doubt concerns the state's efficacy in relation
to its expressed intentions: above all as a device for furnishing security to its
subjects. Here too, while there continues to be massive reason for entertaining the doubt, it is inordinately unlikely that the grounds for doing so have
strengthened greatly since the seventeenth century.
Certainly the concept of state is applied more widely (and perhaps
more promiscuously) to political units in the world today than it was in
the days of Hobbes: not least for its convenience in imposing a minimal
framework of order on social interactions and economic transactions
which bind human populations ever closer together. In the settings of
modern international law and international relations the sufficient conditions for applying the concept manifestly do not at present entail a level of
practical efficacy in state performance adequate to guarantee the security
of anyone. ome portion of the sense of crisis in the nation state today, accordingly, may well derive in this way from two types of threat to state legitimacy. The first, stemming principally from the diffusion of a variety of
secular rationalist theories of political value and political possibility (cf.
chapter 14 below; Dunn 1984; Dunn 1993, Conclusion), foments excessively high political expectations, and vents its disappointment at the
failure of history to live up to them on the state powers which are (in
fantasy at any rate) the most concrete facilities for at least attempting to
realize them. It is inherently difficult to pin down a relation of this character (cf. Habermas 1976). But it remains a plausible diagnosis of anomalies
within the modern understanding of politics, albeit more convincingly
seen as a permanent dimension of vulnerability than as an at present
especially dynamic source of novel hazard. As we have already noted, the
second variety of threat to legitimacy, arising from the overextension of
the category of the state, its relentless application to what are often grimly
inappropriate referents, occurs principally at the periphery of the world
political and economic system. The dismal realities to which the term
'state' frequently refers in these settings (President Mobutu on his river
boat), do nothing for the majesty of the idea of the state. (They are not
what Hobbes or Hegel had in mind.) But it is hard to believe that they
inflict much damage upon its standing or authority closer to the centre of
world political economy. (What would you expect of the Heart of
Darkness?)
Crisis at the centre
If there really is a contemporary crisis of the nation state, it must in the
end be a crisis not of the periphery but of the centre. At that centre, too,
there is good reason to suppose that it must stem not from diminishing
intrinsic powers on the part of particular nation states9
but from a
growing gap between the causal capabilities of even the more advanced
nation states and the effective demands placed upon those powers. This is
as we should expect. All power is relational. It is apparent enough that in
many concrete ways the powers of advanced states today to carry out particular actions vastly exceed those of their predecessors. They can move
their armed forces far more rapidly from place to place. They can communicate with (and spy upon) each other with a speed, intensity and
amplitude which are wholly unprecedented. They can shift earth, raise
buildings or unleash explosive power on a scale which no past ruler could have seriously imagined. But these awesome powers are not focused on
fixed and stable targets. Indeed, now that the Cold War is over, they are no
longer even aimed crucially at the rapidly rising powers of other human
agencies. Instead, they need to be assessed (and to an increasing degree
they are already coming to be assessed), in relation to a range of formidable new threats to human security of which we are belatedly becoming
aware (cf. Hurrell & Kingsbury 1992). If there really is a contemporary
crisis of the nation state (and not merely a transitory, quasi-cyclical
decline in political self-confidence, prompted by recession or by reaction
to the brief euphoria of 1989), this is where it must emanate from.
There is no reason to assume any clear relation between the degree to
which human populations at any time are aware of the threats which they
face and the scale of those threats themselves. Neither political theory nor
political science offers much special aid in judging that scale (see chapter
10 above). But, between them, they may reasonably hope to capture some
aspects of the structures from which the threats arise. Two of these structures are essentially external to state agency: a product of global economic dynamics and ecological degradation. But one is itself in part a
consequence of state action: not an immediate product of state agency
itself, but an interactive effect between states, generated by the extremity
of the challenges now posed by global economic dynamics and ecological
pressure.
It is hard to judge the acuity of all three threats, but easy to appreciate
how each could readily exacerbate the others. Because of these two features of the situation, we can be reasonably confident at present that no
one is in a position to assess accurately quite how severe the contemporary crisis of the nation state really is (or even whether the term 'crisis' is
genuinely appropriate). But none of us should have much difficulty in
seeing that the sense of crisis, however frivolously generated or insecurely
grounded, may well turn out to be all too apposite.
The economic threat has been most extensively explored. We can catch
the subjective flavour of it clearly enough in the petulant tones of M.
Balladur at the obsequies of the franc fort: cWe can't allow a situation to
continue where so much money can change hands in a very short time
and threaten a nation's security' {Financial Times, 13 August 1993, p. 1).
(Those who live by the market need not be surprised if they prove to die
by the market.) It is still difficult to judge the full impact of the vast expansion in trade flows, the dramatic increase in the scale and speed of capital
movements, or the dizzy volatility of currency markets, on the capacity of
state elites to realize their own purposes; not least because the starkly
unintended consequences of market liberalization will certainly continue
to promote vigorous attempts to reverse many of the changes that have produced these outcomes. The accents of M. Balladur are those of a
humiliated (and politically exposed) representative of a peculiarly proud
state. But they serve to epitomize the discomforts of an entire political
class. We can trace the resulting stigmata of impotence already in many
prominent political processes: the effective blunting of the social democratic project (cf. Esping-Anderson 1985); the recoil from European monetary union;10
the faltering of the Uruguay Round of the GATT (contrast
Winham 1986); the sharpening (though ultimately contained) challenge
under the Clinton presidency to the NAFTA agreements between
Canada, Mexico and the United States.
The central challenge of global economic liberalization is to the
Keynesian conception of the welfare state; the promise., reaching back at
least to Lorenz von Stein, to take full responsibility for the economic
welfare of a given population through the deft exercise of the power of its
state. The existing and anticipated unemployment levels of the OECD
countries, and of western Europe in particular, are a notable setback not
merely to Keynes's own hopes and expectations in the aftermath of the
GeneralTheory (Clarke 1988), but also to the variety of expedients eventually deployed by other western governments in face of the Great
Depression (cf. Barber 1985; Hall 1989), and still more to the levels of
employment achieved and welfare publicly provided across most of
western Europe over most of the period since the Second World War
ended. Since there is such a clear elective affinity between the Keynesian
conception of macroeconomic management to deliver popular welfare
and the idea of the nation state (with its claim to embody a relatively intimate relation between ruler and ruled), it is unsurprising that these experiences should have spread anxiety well beyond the ranks of career
politicians or state officials. Insofar as the political formula of the welfare
state proves to be economically unsustainable (or even insofar as it proves
to be unsustainable in the competitive political conditions of modern
representative democracy (cf. Dunn 1992, Conclusion)), doubts about
the normative legitimacy of capitalism which have dogged it throughout
its history (and which have never been fully resolved even at a purely
intellectual level - see chapter 7 above) will press against it once more,
and with increasing force (Dunn 1990b, esp. Introduction and
Conclusion). While they are most unlikely to place the state as a political
format objectively in jeopardy, there is far greater likelihood of their disturbing the comfort of political incumbency (and thus of sharpening a
sense of political crisis, not least against incumbents).
A less immediate, but potentially more profound, threat to state viability is already beginning to arise from the challenges of environmental
degradation. In the spheres of economics, the threat to the political standing of the nation state comes essentially from the tension between a
national framework of sovereign authority and government responsibility
and an uncompromisingly international field of economic causality. In
the sphere of ecology, the national framework of sovereign power and
government responsibility is also in some tension with ecological causality. (Acid rain, the ozone layer, still more global warming, are no respecters of boundaries.) But the principal residual obstacle to effective action
in face of ecological hazard (over and above the key elements of sheer
expense and painfully limited scientific comprehension) is less an
incapacity on the part of governments to meet locally generated ecological threats within their own borders than a difficulty in cooperating effectively together to guarantee one another against the involuntary
importation of pollution from elsewhere. Their problem, in this context,
is not a deficiency in domestic power but a disinclination or incapacity for
effective collective action. Even domestically, the ecological threat to state
viability may in the end prove quite formidable. The scale of cost already
palpably involved in any attempt to reverse many major instances of
environmental degradation,11
the bitter conflicts which will certainly
arise over distributing the costs of any such reversal, even the widespread
doubts whether states can readily be equipped to find out what should
best be done over matters where powerful interest groups are so drastically at risk, all ensure severe pressures on the state's capacity for effective
agency.
But the main ecological challenge to state viability is likely to come not
from domestic limits to the state's power, but from the difficulties of
securing effective and trustworthy international cooperation (Hurrell &
Kingsbury 1992). The problem of collective action (Hardin 1982) permeates all politics. It is at least as easy to pick up in the domestic politics
of the United States12
as it is in the general assembly of the United
Nations. But the problems of collective action are peculiarly intractable
where there is little realistic prospect of creating an effective enforcement
agency and where the rational appeal of seeking to ride free is often
devastatingly apparent. It is a complicated and unobvious question about
many ecological issues whether or not the structure of costs and rewards
of cooperation yields a clear balance of advantage for state actors to cooperate or to defect (Heal 1993): to form binding collective agreements to restrict environmental damage to one another and abide strictly by their
terms, or to participate, in the spirit of Callicles,13
like skulking brigands,
in the complex processes of global negotiations, affix their signatures slyly
to such treaty documents as emerge from them, and resolutely ignore
their terms thereafter, whenever it is more convenient to do so. One
element of this complexity lies in the prospective costs and rewards of
punctilious observance of the agreements themselves. But a second,
which may in practice be every bit as important, lies in the strategic
dilemmas delineated in the theory of games. What might be starkly irrational in the case of a single pay-off Prisoner's Dilemma could well be
strategically optimal in a frequently repeated game, with no definite terminal point, and with conspicuous relations to many other concurrent
repeated games.
If human beings are to re-establish control over the ecological dangers
of which they are now becoming aware, they will certainly need to act
together more deftly and patiently than they have usually contrived to do
in the past. For the present, there is no serious possibility of their either
discovering or fashioning a discrete new instrument of action which can
supplant the nation state in this struggle against the recalcitrance of
nature. If they do eventually learn how to behave in a consequentially less
self-destructive manner, there is little reason to expect that the sites of
their learning will have any especially intimate relation to states as such.
But the agencies required to implement this learning in the last instance
are likely to continue for the foreseeable future to be states. Faute de
mieux: either states or nothing.
If states fail, by and large, to make, enforce, or abide by effective international agreements restraining the environmental destructiveness of
modern economic activity, it may be an analytical error to blame them for
this failure (Dunn 1990a, chapter 12).The fault may lie principally elsewhere: in the cognitive limitations (or intemperate and inveterate greed)
of their subjects - the ultimately ruling demos - or in the fundamental features of the pay-off matrix of environmental costs and damage. But their
subjects are unlikely to be prepared to acknowledge the former; and most
of them will usually be unequipped to recognize the latter.
At the receiving end, therefore, the consequences of state inaction or
breach of faith are likely, as they come out, to appear both avoidable and
discreditable. While this need in itself have no instantaneous effect on the
material or organizational components of state power, it would quite
rapidly impair the residual normative appeal of states as such. Every state
is many other things too; but the key feature of each state is that it is a potential structure for political action. Damage to the normative appeal
of a state is not merely damage to an idea. It also impairs (and can at the
limit simply eliminate) the capacity of a state to serve as a structure of
political action. If there is a crisis of the nation state today, it cannot result
merely from speculative guesses about future possibilities. But even if it is
right to conclude that there is no clearly delineated crisis of the nation
state today (no objective feature of its location which explains why it must
now be in crisis)3 that is no guarantee that there will not be such a crisis
tomorrow. We do not yet know that the political challenge of arresting
environmental degradation is any threat at all to the nation state as a
format for political life or political action. But just in case it does prove to
pose such a threat, we would be well advised to consider that possibility in
advance. That at least would give us an opportunity to see why exactly it
might do so., while there was still time to do something about it.