How the International System Shapes Change
How the International System Shapes Change
Abstract and Keywords
This chapter analyses how change happens in the international system. In many ways, the international system is an extraordinary success story, with smoothly functioning exchanges occurring under a fairly loose system of governance—a combination of norms, rules, procedures, and institutions—and without any recognized world government. The chapter explores how these international systems have evolved over time to their present incarnation, then looks at how activists can harness the system to initiate change. Here, they have two choices: ‘hard power’, which can compel governments to act, such as international laws; or ‘soft power’, the ideas and norms that filter down to societies and states from the endless round of conferences, conventions, and discussions within the international system. Finally, the chapter offers a critique on the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), arguing that the SDGs and the discussions that had led to them might be insufficient for facilitating meaningful change.
‘Shame!’ roared the bearded activist, pointing an accusing finger as, uncomfortably besuited, I wended my way through the police lines. Attending an international trade conference as a civil society delegate was supposed to be a routine induction to CAFOD’s work in international institutions. However, the 1999 WTO ministerial in Seattle was anything but routine. Trapped between tear gas spraying robocops and enraged protesters, we NGO lobbyists from the UK had to take refuge with the British government delegates in their swanky conference centre offices. And that proved a great chance to build relationships and trust. It probably wasn’t what my placard-wielding accuser intended, but as it turned out he was very helpful.
For me Seattle marked the beginning of several years of lobbying on global trade rules. Working alongside government delegations from Pakistan, the Philippines, and many other countries, plus a plethora of fellow NGO policy wonks and academics, provided me with a great introduction to the complex dynamics of the international system, and how activism interacts with events, long-term trends, and shifts in norms and ideas.
The key event in those years was the 9/11 attack on New York’s World Trade Center, which took place just weeks before the WTO ministerial that followed the debacle in Seattle. Jittery delegates in Doha flinched whenever planes flew near the conference centre. Along with berobed Qatari staff, the delegates and I watched on TV screens in the conference hall as US troops took Kabul in response to the attack. In this febrile atmosphere, governments rallied behind the (p.136) international system and launched an ambitious ‘Doha Development Round’ of trade talks.
At the ministerial in Cancun two years later, however, longer-term trends came to the fore. Growing unease in the US and Europe had helped weaken the rich countries’ resolve and, more importantly, newly assertive developing country blocs refused to sign on to the rich countries’ agendas on agriculture and investment, and the talks fell apart in spectacular fashion.
Ideas also played a key role in the evolution of the trade debate, especially the academic counter-attack against the crude ‘if it moves, liberalize it’ impulse that had dominated in the late 1990s.1 With the rich countries in retreat on the intellectual and political realms, the round remains on life support a decade and a half after its launch.
That ecosystem of interacting events, long-term economic and political processes, individuals, and ideas is typical of how change happens in the international system.
The multilateral system evolves
In many ways, the international system is an extraordinary success story. Every day sees huge amounts of largely smooth interchange between nation states: people cross borders; emails, letters, and postcards arrive at the correct destination; freighters load and unload containers of goods in foreign ports in an ever-expanding cycle of global trade. We only notice when those relatively unencumbered processes are interrupted, as in Europe’s migration meltdown, which is dominating the headlines as I write. Remarkably, these smoothly functioning exchanges occur under a fairly loose system of governance—a combination of norms, rules, procedures, and institutions—and without any recognized world government.
(p.137) The first attempt to bring order to international relations came in Europe after the defeat of Napoleon in 1815. The victorious powers set up a ‘Concert for Europe’ which, though it had no written rules and no permanent institutions, offered a forum for negotiating differences. It successfully limited warfare in Europe for much of the nineteenth century, accommodating the unification and rise of Germany and Italy, before collapsing in the First World War.
Ever since the founding of the Red Cross in 1863, discussions on international governance have been driven by efforts to regulate the use of violence, and the international system has evolved primarily in response to war. The First World War led to the creation of the League of Nations, an idealistic and ill-fated attempt to build a ‘world parliament’. The Second World War bequeathed the basic institutions that make up the international system today. The UN, unlike the League, fuses global democracy (the General Assembly) with ‘great power’ politics (the Security Council). To promote economic coordination between countries and curb the economic nationalism that helped destroy the League, the victorious powers established the predecessor to the WTO and what are known collectively as the ‘Bretton Woods Institutions’—the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (better known as the World Bank), the International Monetary Fund (IMF).
Seventy years on, with increasing signs of sclerosis and strain, the UN, World Bank Group, and IMF, joined by the WTO in 1995, sit atop a burgeoning and complex system of international governance. And I mean complex: during the course of the twentieth century, over 38,000 international organizations were founded, almost half of them in its last two decades.2
The UN is a sprawling system unto itself. It consists of three core bodies set up in 1945, the General Assembly, the Security Council, and the Secretariat, subsequently joined by numerous ‘specialized agencies’, (p.138) such as the World Health Organization (WHO) (1948), the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (1950), the UN Conference on Trade and Development (1964), the UN Development Programme (1965), and UN Women (2010).3
In response to events (especially failures and crises) as well as the political sclerosis and glacial pace of reform in existing institutions, new elements continue being grafted onto the basic architecture of the international system. The failure of UN peacekeeping to prevent massacres in Bosnia and Rwanda in the 1990s led to the founding of the International Criminal Court in 2002 and an increasingly assertive role for UN peace keepers in crises, backed by a 2005 agreement on the ‘responsibility to protect’ civilians from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing, and crimes against humanity. The inability of the IMF and World Bank to reflect the long-term decline of Europe’s power in their governance structures prompted China, India, Brazil, and other rising economic powers to create the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank in 2014.
My own highly peripheral engagement is also a sign of another evolution in the international system, the rise of non-state networks. States remain the main players, but they are increasingly surrounded by, and forced to engage with, representatives of the private sector, NGOs, philanthrocapitalists such as Bill and Melinda Gates, and policy-savvy academics. Networks among these new players have given rise to public-private initiatives such as the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis, and Malaria or the Global Alliance for Vaccines and Immunization.
While constitutionally part of the UN system, the IMF and the World Bank were set up in a radically different manner. The UN works largely on the principle of ‘one country, one vote’ (with the notable exception of the Security Council), whereas decisions at the multilateral financial organizations are generally taken on the basis of (p.139) ‘one dollar, one vote’, guaranteeing the dominance of the US and other major donors.4 At US insistence, the organizations were located in Washington, within walking distance of the White House, rather than with the UN in New York. Put crudely, the UN system is weighted towards the developing countries (although they are often themselves divided in terms of ideology and positions), whereas the Bretton Woods Institutions are more likely to reflect the views of the rich countries.
Ideology and politics are not the only differences. I have always been struck by the divide between the seedy offices and frustrating bureaucracy of the UN and the swanky digs and smart efficiency of the Bank and Fund. I received a graphic demonstration of this in 2013, when I gave talks about blogging to staff at the UN Development Program (UNDP) and World Bank. At the UN, cowed staff debated whether they were even allowed to blog, for fear of offending one or other member state. At the World Bank, the self-confident and amused response to my request to meet its bloggers was ‘tricky, there are 300 of them’.5
The particular culture of each organization matters because global activism by NGOs and others often relies on alliances with one international institution to influence the rest. Building alliances with the UN system ought to be a no-brainer, given its orientation and commitment to progressive change. Alas it is often a frustrating bureaucratic nightmare.
And adopting a simplistic ‘UN good, World Bank bad’ view of the world is too simplistic. There are endless turf wars, but also genuine (p.140) differences of opinion and ideology within the UN system and the Bretton Woods Institutions, as well as between them. After the 1998 Asian financial crisis, for example, the IMF wanted to pressure countries to cut spending, while the World Bank thought they should reflate.
‘Hard’ and ‘soft’ power
Given that most of the decisions that matter in the lives of ordinary people are ultimately taken by national governments, it is not surprising that many officials at international institutions (and not a few activists) yearn for the international system to acquire the ‘hard power’ to compel governments to act. Only a few international bodies can exercise such influence: the UN can impose sanctions on oppressive regimes; the IMF can try to impose particular economic policies, such as public spending cuts; the WTO can authorize fines to enforce trade rules; and the International Criminal Court (ICC) can prosecute leaders with blood on their hands.
Activists managed to harness the international system’s hard power through a successful campaign on arms control launched in 2003 by Oxfam, Amnesty International, and the International Action Network on Small Arms (IANSA), along with many other organizations across the world. The aim of the Control Arms Campaign was to reduce armed violence and conflict through a new Arms Trade Treaty (ATT), which would be the world’s first ever global effort to regulate the transfer of conventional weapons and ammunition from one country to another.
When the campaign began, only three governments (Mali, Costa Rica, and Cambodia) would publicly associate themselves with the call for a treaty. Undeterred, the campaign assembled a wide range of allies, including companies in the defence industry that saw themselves as the ‘responsible end’ of the arms industry, retired generals and former war correspondents, financial investors, people wounded by small arms, and more. Lining up on the other side, were the US (until 2009 the only country that publicly opposed a treaty) and other (p.141) weapons-dealing states (Russia, China, and Middle Eastern countries), plus the National Rifle Association and associated pro-gun groups.
The initial strategy was to get one government in each region of the world to champion the ATT, and convince others to follow their lead in a snowball effect. Direct lobbying won individual converts within governments, but it was mass petitions and other public campaigning activities that made support for the ATT politically feasible. By mid-2005, the snowball was rolling: at the Biennial meeting of the UN Programme of Action on Small Arms, fifty-five states voiced support; by the end of 2006, 153 countries voted in favour of moving towards a treaty. The ATT became international law on Christmas Eve, 2014.
The ATT campaign is a great case study in how to use power and systems analysis to drive change in the international system. Campaigners were adept at building alliances with ‘unusual suspects’, had a deep understanding of the way power operated in the international system and moved adroitly between outsider campaigning and insider lobbying as the negotiations progressed. They also made full use of critical junctures, such as outbreaks of violence in Eastern Congo, Darfur, and later Syria, and China’s arms shipment to Zimbabwe in 2008 just before violence-marred elections. (South African dockworkers refused to unload the ship, and the campaign promptly highlighted both the effectiveness of the action, and the human cost it prevented.)6
But the ‘hard power’ of international law has its limits. Powerful countries can ignore the rulings of international bodies or apply them selectively, while less powerful governments often say yes and do nothing.
An underestimated strength of the international system is its ‘soft power’: the ideas and norms that filter down to societies and states from the endless round of conferences, conventions, and discussions within the international system. As discussed in Chapter 3, the UN’s (p.142) most profound influence may well be its role in agreeing and promoting the evolving norms that govern human society on everything from the treatment of women, children, or indigenous people to attitudes to corruption or warfare. International knowledge networks (comprising academics, policy makers, and the research arms of international institutions) can be highly influential, as the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has shown in the case of global climate negotiations. The IPCC is in many ways a modern expression of a nineteenth-century belief in the power of scientific knowledge to solve humanity’s most pressing problems, and its success is heartening for a lapsed scientist like me.
I like to think of the debates in international forums as an ecosystem. New ideas, and variations of old ones, are constantly introduced and chewed over. Some rise and are taken up by the institutions that comprise the system, while others wither away. Churn and change are constant, as intellectual tides shape individuals’ understanding of the world, and decisions at all levels.
Activists who despair at the deaf ear turned to them by the international system need patience. When I first encountered the IMF and World Bank in the late 1980s, they were ‘the Poverty Brokers’,7 using the debt crisis of the 1980s to impose austerity and ‘structural adjustment’ across the developing world. Growth was all; the state was always the problem, never the solution; deregulated markets the only way forward.
I started off firmly in the ‘anti’ camp, supporting the ‘50 years is enough’ protests in 1994 that argued for the Bretton Woods Institutions to be scrapped. But as I engaged more and more with staff at the Bank and Fund, my views began to soften. I’d like to believe my shift was due to the institutions improving, but I confess I was also growing older and more conciliatory. These days I even write for the World Bank’s governance blog.8 Even so, when IMF boss Christine Lagarde (p.143) launched its new paper on gender and inequality at Oxfam’s Washington office in 2015,9 I had to pinch myself. Words like ‘gender’ and ‘inequality’ would never have made it past the IMF’s internal thought police thirty years ago.
Explaining how the Bretton Woods Institutions have evolved would take a book in itself, but the process shows all the hallmarks of a complex adaptive system. ‘Tribes’ within each institution from different disciplinary or ideological backgrounds slug it out over vital issues such as the role of the state, the importance and origins of inequality, or whether health and education services should charge user fees.10 Events and real life move debates along: the terrible human cost of those 1980s structural adjustment dictums sowed doubt and confusion over the ‘rightness’ of the policies known as the ‘Washington Consensus’. Some brilliant, visionary critics in the UN system led the counterattack—UNICEF’s book Adjustment with a Human Face11 highlighted the human cost of IMF and World Bank policies, while the annual ‘Human Development Report’, first published by the UNDP in 1990, pioneered a rethinking of poverty and development away from narrow definitions of income and economic performance; its broader focus on the multiple aspects of well/ill-being guides the work of most of the aid and development sector today.
Those critics and many other activists and intellectuals within and close to the UN system articulated both the failures of the old thinking and a more progressive alternative. One of them, Ha-Joon Chang, likens the band of heterodox economists to which he belongs to the (p.144) heroes in Lord of the Rings, standing shoulder to shoulder at Helm’s Deep, taking on the oncoming tides of neoclassical orcs.
Events and long-term political and economic processes came to the rescue of these beleaguered heroes: the 1998 Asian Financial Crisis and the 2008 global meltdown forced the IMF to recognize the folly of forcing countries to open their capital markets. The economic rise of the BRIC countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China) weakened the dominance of the US and Britain, as exemplified by the World Bank’s appointment of Chinese and Indian experts to the top post of chief economist in 2008 and 2012.
As I watched this battle unfold, I came to realize that one of my most useful roles as a non-economist activist was to use the NGOs’ ability to organize and communicate to help the Helm’s Deep heroes get their message across. I became something of a cheerleader for the heterodox economists.
Others certainly don’t share my optimism, so perhaps I have been too thoroughly co-opted. A study of the World Bank’s Development Economics Vice Presidency (DEC) concluded that its role was one of ‘paradigm maintenance’, defending and perpetuating an orthodox form of neoclassical economics through an interlocking set of ‘drivers of inertia’, including hiring preferences, promotion, and the selective enforcement of rules. Dissident research generally undergoes stricter external review with occasional rejection, or disappears into a Kafkaesque limbo where it is never signed off for publication. Dissidents are labelled ‘idiosyncratic’, ‘disaffected’ and otherwise deemed misfits, while the Bank’s External Affairs Department gets behind the ‘good guys’, showering them with high profile speaking and writing opportunities.12
(p.145) But whether you are of the cup-half-full or cup-half-empty persuasion, this battle of ideas has great implications for activists and policy makers around the world, because the UN, Fund, and Bank play a crucial role as ‘knowledge brokers’. The research they conduct and publish shapes thinking about development and economic policy in virtually every country (including that of activists).
Because ‘soft power’ matters, we activists should put our shoulders to the wheel to support the forces of light, providing platforms, building alliances, spotting champions, amplifying messages, and doing our own research. If the new friendly rhetoric on rights or inequality at the Bank or Fund doesn’t match what they do in practice, we have a perfect opportunity to highlight implementation gaps and double standards.
The sustainable development goals
I became convinced of the value of a power and systems approach in international advocacy during the three frustrating years of discussion that led to the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), the successor to the UN’s Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). As far as I could tell, the large group of UN and other technocrats involved were more interested in debating metrics and indicators than in driving change on the ground. And the huge circus of NGO and other lobbyists were only trying to shoehorn ‘their’ issue onto an ever-expanding agenda. Missing was an understanding that progress toward any global goal relies primarily on national decision makers hemmed in by multiple constraints.
The SDG discussion started badly, dogged by confusion over correlation vs. causation in their predecessor. Because poverty had indeed been halved since the MDGs were agreed in 2000, many argued that the MDGs were a success, sidestepping the awkward truth that the main reason behind global progress on poverty was the extraordinary advance of China. And no-one was claiming that the MDGs were the force driving the Chinese government.
(p.146) As aid dwindles in importance relative to national government spending, the issue of how international agreements can exert traction over national decision making becomes increasingly important. In a 2012 paper written with Matthew Lockwood and Stephen Hale,13 we looked at what was known about the impact of different kinds of agreements (e.g. international law, goals and targets, regional league tables) on changes in global norms, national government decisions, and empowerment of local civil society. Concerning the SDGs, we concluded that ‘Given the substantial investment of money and brainpower in both the MDGs and the global debate over what should replace them, it is scandalous and astonishing that research seems to tell us so little about the impact of such global instruments on the things that matter—the performance of governments and the development of communities in poor countries.’
Subsequently, when Columbia University’s Elham Seyedsayamdost did so, surveying fifty countries’ implementation of the MDGs, she found that the goals had no apparent influence on how governments spent their money.14
But, as I noted in Chapter 4, research and evidence often plays second fiddle to political horse-trading in democratic systems, and our paper, like Seyedsayamdost’s, disappeared into the ether.
The SDG process made me highly sceptical about any sentence beginning with the words ‘we can’, as in ‘we can end poverty/abolish hunger/eradicate this or that disease’. The ‘we’ is an imaginary construct, an exercise in technocratic ‘if-I-ruled-the-world’ thinking that ignores the national and local officials who will take and implement (p.147) the decisions necessary to achieve any given goal, not to mention the constraints those decision makers face.15
In fairness, the value of such global discussions also lies in their ability to draw attention to development issues, especially insofar as they influence norms. As I write the discussion on how the SDGs will be implemented is ongoing and could yet produce something that influences national governments. But I fear that what we will get in the end is periodic global updates on social progress, issued in New York, which have negligible impact on how governments treat their citizens.
It is easy to become disillusioned with the international system and its unappealing mix of power politics, legalistic nitpicking, and apolitical technocracy. When I first joined the development NGOs, I stalked the pressrooms and NGO fringe events at summits and international conferences, seduced by their aura of power and importance. Summits generate a kind of Stockholm Syndrome even among we marginal NGO types: too many meetings, too little sleep and endless arguments over the fine print of declarations can convince you that the fate of the world lies in changing ‘should’ to ‘shall’ in paragraph 2.b.iii.
I remember how disheartening it was when I finally got to ‘speak truth to power’ at a UN meeting in Geneva, only to watch my carefully honed speech disappear into the cavernous room full of delegates chatting to each other and occasionally tuning in to the simultaneous translation. It didn’t feel like a vibrant, world-changing institution and brought to mind a renowned phrase of UN Secretary-General Dag (p.148) Hammarskjöld, ‘The United Nations was not created to take mankind to heaven, but to save humanity from hell.’16
That year, 2005, marked a personal watershed: after Make Poverty History and yet another WTO summit in Hong Kong, I dropped out of the frontline of NGO advocacy. I had become convinced that the real arena for social change was at the national, rather than the international, level. I wrote From Poverty to Power to make that case, which I like to think contributed to a wider move by Oxfam and others to spend more time and energy on national influencing, rather than the caravan of international summitry.
Looking back, however, I think I swung too far the other way. The international system has a critical role in shaping society’s norms and beliefs. Moreover, many of the most pressing challenges facing humanity are ‘collective action problems’ that cannot be solved by single countries alone.
National politics more often than not punishes leaders who seek to address the collective problems humanity faces, especially when they engage with the international system to do so. UN stalwart Mark Malloch Brown calls it ‘the Gordon Brown problem’. At the onset of the financial crisis in 2008, the UK finance minister (no relation) showed extraordinary leadership at the G7 and G20 in pushing for public investment to avert an even greater global meltdown. Yet his political reward was negligible because, though action had to be global, votes remained national, with little credit (and lots of brickbats) for leaders engaging in foreign policy, even if it involves saving the world economy.17
Activists can change that equation. Our movements in the national and local arenas can make it politically feasible for governments, as well as enlightened leaders in the international system, to address (p.149) climate change, pandemics, crime, weapons proliferation, migration, or race-to-the-bottom competition between nations on taxation. And by acknowledging the primacy of national politics, our advocacy in the international system could become much more effective.
Growing up in the west of England, national elections in the Bath constituency where I lived were enlivened by a classic English eccentric. Posters would appear saying ‘vote for Gilbert Young, World Government Party’. (The party’s other proposals included turning Buckingham Palace into a home for old-age pensioners.) Young never won more than a few hundred votes, and his party died with him in 1998, but as global collective action problems become more pressing, he may end up being proved right after all.
Making the international system work better is essential to the survival of our species and the individual and community wellbeing of its members. And yes, that may eventually require a move from global governance to some kind of global government. Perhaps one day, Gilbert Young will be lauded as a prophet in the 1970s wilderness.
In the meantime, we activists have plenty of work to do, sharpening our understanding of power and process in the complexity that is the evolving international system, and working to ensure it addresses the many pressing problems we face.
The next chapter looks at another, increasingly important player in that international system—the transnational corporations.
H.J. Chang, Kicking Away the Ladder: Development Strategy in Historical Perspective (London: Anthem Press, 2003).
J. Gaventa and R. Tandon (eds.) Globalizing Citizens: The New Dynamics of Inclusion and Exclusion (London: Zed Books, 2010).
Mark Malloch-Brown, The Unfinished Global Revolution: The Road to International Cooperation (New York: Penguin Press, 2011).
S. Park, Owning Development: Creating Policy Norms in The IMF and the World Bank (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Thomas Weiss, Global Governance: Why? What? Whither? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2013), p. 16.
S. Woolcock and N. Bayne, The New Economic Diplomacy: Decision-Making and Negotiation in International Economic Relations (Abingdon: Routledge, 2011).
(1) See, for example, Dani Rodrik, The Global Governance of Trade as if Development Really Mattered (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 2001), www.sss.ias.edu/files/pdfs/Rodrik/Research/global-governance-of-trade.pdf. Or Ha-Joon Chang, Kicking Away the Ladder: Development Strategy in Historical Perspective (London: Anthem Press, 2003).
(2) Thomas Weiss, Global Governance: Why? What? Whither? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2013), p. 16.
(3) Anthony Payne, The Global Politics of Unequal Development (London and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), chapter 5.
(4) One exception is the arm of the World Bank that lends to low-income countries, the International Development Association (IDA). Technically, this has a different structure to the main board of the Bank, and poor countries get 41 per cent of the vote in decisions made by the IDA board. However, only a few of these countries are involved in setting the agreements that decide the IDA’s policies, a process that takes place every three years. Here, as everywhere at the International Finance Institutions (IFIs), it is the large donors who really make all the significant decisions.
(5) Duncan Green, ‘Blogging in Big Bureaucracies Round Two: The View From the World Bank’, From Poverty to Power blog, 10 May 2013, http://oxfamblogs.org/fp2p/blogging-in-big-bureaucracies-round-two-the-view-from-the-world-bank/.
(6) Duncan Green and Anna Macdonald, ‘Power and Change: The Arms Trade Treaty’ (Oxford: Oxfam GB for Oxfam International, 2015).
(7) Martin Honeywell, The Poverty Brokers: The IMF and Latin America (London: Latin America Bureau, 1983).
(9) Christine Lagarde, Managing Director, IMF, ‘Catalyst for Change: Empowering Women and Tackling Income Inequality’, speech to Oxfam America, 22 October 2015, Washington DC, www.imf.org/external/np/speeches/2015/102215.htm.
(10) Oxfam has been deeply involved in this debate. See, for example, Anna Marriott and Jessica Hamer, ‘Investing for the Few: The IFC’s Health in Africa Initiative’ (Oxford: Oxfam GB for Oxfam International, 2014), http://policy-practice.oxfam.org.uk/publications/investing-for-the-few-the-ifcs-health-in-africa-initiative-325654.
(11) Giovanni Cornia, Richard Jolly, and Frances Stewart, Adjustment with a Human Face: Protecting the Vulnerable and Promoting Growth (Gloucestershire: Clarendon Press, 1987).
(12) Duncan Green, ‘Why is Economic Orthodoxy so Resistant to Change? The Art of Paradigm Maintenance’, From Poverty to Power blog, 17 September 2014, http://oxfamblogs.org/fp2p/the-art-of-paradigm-maintenance-has-anything-changed-at-the-world-bank/.
(13) Duncan Green, Stephen Hale, and Matthew Lockwood, ‘How Can a Post-2015 Agreement Drive Real Change? The Political Economy of Global Commitments’, revised edition (Oxford: Oxfam GB for Oxfam International, 2012), http://policy-practice.oxfam.org.uk/publications/how-can-a-post-2015-agreement-drive-real-change-revised-edition-the-political-e-250371.
(14) Duncan Green, ‘Have the MDGs Affected Developing Country Policies and Spending? Findings of New 50 Country Study’, From Poverty to Power blog, 24 July 2015, http://oxfamblogs.org/fp2p/have-the-mdgs-affected-developing-country-policies-and-spending-findings-of-new-50-country-study/.
(15) Pierre Jacquet, ‘Incantations, Inclusive Growth and the Illusory “We”: Whatever Happened to Politics in the Post-2015 Process?’, From Poverty to Power blog, 25 April 2013, http://oxfamblogs.org/fp2p/incantations-inclusive-growth-and-the-illusory-we-whatever-happened-to-politics-in-the-post-2015-process/.
(16) Quoted in Thomas Weiss, Global Governance: Why? What? Whither? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2013), p. 3.
(17) Mark Malloch-Brown, The Unfinished Global Revolution: The Road to International Cooperation (New York: Penguin Press, 2011), p. 199.