CIAO DATE: 05/02

Georgetown Journal of International Affairs

Volume 1, Number 1, Winter/Spring 2000

 

Should Policymakers Listen to the Public?
by Frank Lavin

 

For the majority of Americans, U.S. foreign policy is an abstract phenomenon, one of little intrinsic interest or value. It enters the popular consciousness only when it threatens to impinge on the more fundamental aspects of life, such as family, work, and education. For many practitioners, academics, and journalists, on the other hand, foreign policy defines professional life and public stature. This gap between practitioners and the public is reflected in two contrasting approaches to foreign policy management: the “consequentialist” and “hortatory” schools.

The consequentialist school holds that only the practical effects of actions matter in foreign policy. Foreign policy must concentrate on achieving goals, not advocating policy. As Patrick Henry observed, a public assertion of the desire for peace does not necessarily promote peace. Actions that work toward peace are more important than rhetoric supporting that goal. At times, an arms buildup might be more conducive to peace than a rally or a speech that proclaims a heartfelt desire for peace.

The hortatory school views advocacy as a critical element of foreign policy, holding that “words speak louder than actions.” The unstated premise of the hortatory school is that the conduct of foreign policy is not as important as the expression of foreign policy. The best way to influence events is to come down rhetorically on the “right” side of an issue. Passionate expressions of beliefs become substitutes for policies that might turn those beliefs into reality.

Economic historian Joseph Schumpeter touched on the hortatory–consequentialist split in Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, in which he discussed the diminished sense of reality and responsibility encountered in dealing with matters remote from one’s direct experience. People who dedicate their lives to foreign policy tend to belong to the consequentialist school, whereas those removed from day–to–day policy management usually belong to the hortatory school.

States also illustrate the hortatory–consequentialist divide. Small and middle powers such as Sweden, which have only a modest ability to influence events, typically prefer the hortatory approach. In a sense they are free to say whatever they like, because no major powers are obliged to listen to them. Countries that have the power to pursue their policy goals–such as the United States–typically favor the consequentialist school. America tends to take a more cautious approach to international regimes like the Ottawa Treaty on Landmines, the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, or the International Court of Justice because these regimes could constrain American ability to act in the international arena. Smaller powers can freely participate in such regimes because in their case these treaties are less restricting. It is difficult to imagine a defense minister of any country commenting, “So Sweden will no longer use land mines, eh? That does change things.”

Despite these differences, the two schools are not mutually exclusive. A hortatory approach to an issue can reinforce a consequentialist policy. For example, the United States can call for Russia to better safeguard its nuclear materials, backing up its rhetoric with practical inducements, such as paying for the safeguards. Examples of the successful combination of hortatory and consequentialist approaches is U.S. foreign policy under the Kennedy and Reagan administrations. Under Reagan, anti–Communist rhetoric was backed up with concrete action. Speaking to the broader public and morally justifying America’s aggressive defense policy was a hortatory device, but it was consistent with the consequentialist approach of weapons buildups and direct challenges to Soviet initiatives.

More often, however, these two schools are at odds. Throughout the 1990s, we frequently saw a hortatory–consequentialist dichotomy over issues such as trade, human rights, and the IMF’s role in economic restructuring. This tension often leads to meaningful debate, but it can also lead to unintended negative consequences. The 1995–96 U.S.–Japan automobile trade negotiations are a case in point. During negotiations, the United States remained committed to numerical targets for its imports to Japan. This inflamed Japanese public opinion and made compromise extremely difficult for the Japanese political leadership, despite their acceptance of the need to open the Japanese automotive market. Thus, while America’s use of hortatory tactics appealed to the domestic audience, in this case it actually worked against the consequentialist goal of opening trade.

This split between the consequentialism of practitioners and the hortatory approach of non–practitioners causes considerable tension between the executive and legislative branches. The executive branch favors the consequentialist approach, where action backs rhetoric, due to its direct control over foreign policy. On the other hand, the hortatory tactic is particularly appealing to members of the U.S. Congress, who have limited power to shape foreign policy. Since all they can do is influence it at the margin, why not at least advocate the cause close to the hearts of constituents? The result of this legislative–executive split is tension, frustration, and at times, utter disdain. As Henry Adams noted in The Education of Henry Adams, “The Secretary of State exists only to recognize the existence of a world which Congress would rather ignore; of obligations which Congress repudiates whenever it can; of bargains which Congress distrusts and tries to turn to its advantage or to reject.”

There is no solution per se to the hortatory–consequentialist dichotomy, nor is one necessary. The split does, however, place a burden on the foreign policy leadership to operate at times without public support. The greatest challenge to foreign–policy makers is to pursue an active, consequentialist foreign policy in the face of public opposition, and the greatest danger arises when the executive branch chooses to acquiesce to the public’s lack of interest rather than lead on foreign policy issues. We should expect that the more removed one is from day–to–day foreign policy responsibility, the more likely one is to adopt a hortatory approach. But when the executive branch shares the public’s lack of interest in foreign policy matters and begins to follow a hortatory approach, it moves away from its consequentialist duties, emphasizing only foreign policies with domestic political repercussions, and neglecting those with less immediate domestic repercussions. Important issues that do not attract public attention, such as nuclear proliferation in South Asia or the political stability of Indonesia, can fall by the wayside.

The need for executive branch leadership on foreign policy issues is particularly pertinent in shaping U.S. bilateral relations and attaining long–range goals with emerging or latent powers such as China, India, and Russia. The public, and to a lesser extent Congress, is more responsive to short–term foreign policy issues. Only the executive branch has the capability to look ten to fifteen years down the road and formulate more forward–looking foreign policies.

Public lack of enthusiasm for a proposed policy must not bear the blame for failures in U.S. foreign policy management. Foreign–policy failures stem from the refusal of the political leadership to pursue the right policy regardless of political cost. For lay people to hold a superficial view of foreign policy is acceptable. It is when political leaders succumb to the impulses of episodic shifts in public opinion and ephemeral congressional sentiment that the drift to policy mismanagement begins.