By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Infrastructure Is Remaking Geopolitics
Falling water levels
in Panama’s Gatún Lake. A cyberattack on a payment
platform. An earthquake disrupting silicon-chip production in Taiwan. Elon Musk
decided which countries have access to the Internet. At first glance, these
things have nothing in common other than their recent prominence in news
headlines. But an invisible through line connects them: each one highlights
modern society’s dependence on complex infrastructure to function. Disruptions
in the Panama Canal can delay the delivery of critical shipments around the
world. Computer failures can interrupt routine medical care provided by clinics
across the United States. A brief halt in the production of semiconductors
causes panic. And a billionaire’s whim can turn the tide of war.
The complex
hardwiring and technological dependence of modern life have made people reliant
on a wide array of infrastructure systems, and governments now compete to
create and maintain the networks that deliver essential services, from
electricity to clean water to telecommunications. A country’s power hinges on
its ability to influence and manage this vast set of systems. In this
infrastructure-dominated world, governments and their officials no longer
maintain unilateral control over international relations. Instead,
corporations, technology, and environmental conditions combine and interact
with governments to shape world order. Even though the landscape of
global affairs has shifted, U.S. approaches to policymaking too often remain
shackled to outdated conceptions of bipolar competition and great-power
rivalry.
Falling water levels
in Panama’s Gatún Lake. A cyberattack on a payment
platform. An earthquake disrupting silicon-chip production in Taiwan. Elon Musk
decided which countries have access to the Internet. At first glance, these
things have nothing in common other than their recent prominence in news
headlines. But an invisible through line connects them: each one highlights
modern society’s dependence on complex infrastructure to function. Disruptions
in the Panama Canal can delay the delivery of critical shipments around the
world. Computer failures can interrupt routine medical care provided by clinics
across the United States. A brief halt in the production of semiconductors
causes panic. And a billionaire’s whim can turn the tide of war.
The complex
hardwiring and technological dependence of modern life have made people reliant
on a wide array of infrastructure systems, and governments now compete to
create and maintain the networks that deliver essential services, from
electricity to clean water to telecommunications. A country’s power hinges on
its ability to influence and manage this vast set of systems. In this
infrastructure-dominated world, governments and their officials no longer
maintain unilateral control over international relations. Instead,
corporations, technology, and environmental conditions combine and interact
with governments to shape world order. Even though the landscape of
global affairs has shifted, U.S. approaches to policymaking too often remain
shackled to outdated conceptions of bipolar competition and great-power
rivalry.
It is past time to
prioritize infrastructure as the organizing principle of modern life. The
infrastructural turn in geopolitics has revealed that the world has a new set
of power brokers, from multinational banks to satellite operators, and that
solving global problems requires new forums and strategies to coordinate the
activities of these actors. Infrastructure’s central role in today’s world also
explains why seemingly small bottlenecks, such as the Houthi rebels’ attack on Red Sea cargo ships
or production delays at a single electronics factory, can unleash ripple
effects that imperil international supply chains and upend geopolitics.
Adapting to a new infrastructure-dominated reality requires policymakers to, first,
reorganize their thinking to account for the complex material and technological
interconnections that underlie geopolitical conflicts and, second, work with a
new set of power brokers rather than rely on the traditional channels of
government-to-government dialogue.
Infrastructure Of Yore
Infrastructure isn’t
new to the twenty-first century. The term became popular among
nineteenth-century French
engineers to describe the
earthworks that enabled the smooth transit of trains, such as the embankments,
trestles, and bridges that undergirded railway lines, rather than just the
tracks.
Infrastructure
entered mainstream English in the early Cold War as NATO negotiators in the
late 1940s and 1950s used infrastructure to describe the supporting systems
needed to ensure military preparedness in Europe—air bases, communications
networks, and radar systems, for example. In 1950, Winston Churchill scoffed at
fellow politicians’ use of the term: “Knowing well that there was no such word
[as infrastructure], Mr. Churchill … said he must reserve his comments till he
had consulted a dictionary,” one report noted. In 1952, U.S. Secretary of State
Dean Acheson said he found the term baffling, according to
the New York Times. These objections aside, “infrastructure”
caught on. Since the late 1950s, U.S. politicians have used the term to
describe everything from interstate highways to organized crime networks to
healthcare systems.
Governments’ reliance
on infrastructure is also a centuries-old story. Throughout the 1800s, the British
Empire used its supremacy over infrastructure in banking, telegraph networks,
and maritime transportation to control distant colonies and punish rivals.
Similarly, the United States consolidated claims over far-flung
territories by channeling infrastructural power to build the Transcontinental
Railway and the Panama Canal.
The pursuit of
infrastructure supremacy is an old story, but what’s new about today’s
infrastructure is both our reliance on it and the interconnectedness and
interdependence of networks themselves. Nearly three-quarters of global
goods—80 percent of the international trade in goods by volume—move on
intricately connected maritime networks. These networks are not naturally
occurring, but are constructed and maintained through hundreds of
intermediaries, technological systems, and processes. Shipping across borders—flowers
from Kenya to the Netherlands, for example—requires an average of 36 documents
and 240 copies.
And that’s just the
beginning. The world’s most promising breakthroughs in knowledge and
technology, from genomics to renewable energy, demand even greater
infrastructure complexity. Artificial intelligence computing, for example,
relies on billions of “parameters” powered by tens of thousands of high-tech
processing units. Those processors are manufactured through intricate supply
chains involving thousands of PhDs, rare minerals, and sophisticated
machinery—such as photolithography machines, which require 800 suppliers and can each cost as much as a Boeing 747.
Energy grids,
shipping routes, AI networks, and digital payment platforms are, on their own,
massively complex systems, and they’re also interdependent. Doctors cannot
maintain their caseloads without billing software and digital communications.
Electronics manufacturers cannot produce smartphones without the international
supply chains for silicon chips and strategic minerals. The dense layering of
modern infrastructure systems has become so entangled and continuous that it
now operates as the substrate of modern existence.
The interconnected
networks and systems of modern life enable astonishing complexity, such as
gaining permission to cross an international border simply by walking through a
retinal scan. But they also create gaping vulnerabilities. For example, a
single cyberattack on an Australian port operator imperiled 40 percent of the
country’s flow of goods. These massive networks of interwoven systems have
become so vital to the functioning of U.S. society that the federal government
has designated 16 domains as “critical infrastructure,” meaning their
destruction would have a debilitating effect on national security. These
include everything from nuclear reactors to financial services.
The New Power Brokers
Who wields more
power, Elon Musk or Greece? According to traditional financial rankings, Musk’s
net worth of more than $200 billion falls within striking distance of Greece’s
GDP of roughly $220 billion. But examining financial rankings alone misses the interdependence
of today’s global actors and the importance of infrastructure to shaping world
order.
In terms of
geopolitical heft, Musk’s infrastructural power is dizzying. His decisions
influence—or even outright determine—whether Ukrainian forces can launch
attacks against Russian targets or whether humanitarian agencies in the Gaza
Strip can access wireless networks. He wields this power because he controls
SpaceX, which provides satellite connectivity via its Starlink
service. He decides when and where Starlink’s network
of low-orbit satellites will provide access to communications networks during a
crisis. Musk’s infrastructural
power far outstrips his wealth.
Furthermore, Starlink is not just an infrastructure system operating in
isolation. It depends on and benefits from other systems, from the universities
that train its engineers to the U.S. government, which has contracted with
SpaceX for classified defense projects for more than two decades, including a
recent $1.8 billion deal. Focusing on nation-states as the key actors of global
affairs overlooks the layering and interconnections of these new power
dynamics.
Traditional
international relations tend to distinguish between state and nonstate actors
as operating in different spheres, but today, entrepreneurs, investors, or
consultants are often every bit as relevant as political officials. Financiers
play a particularly important role in shaping infrastructure politics, as
infrastructure investing has become central to international finance and global
politics. In 2018, the G-20 developed the Roadmap to Infrastructure as an Asset
Class to encourage investors to fund projects from ports to schools to
telecommunications networks, especially in emerging markets. Goldman Sachs and
McKinsey have created specialized divisions to focus on infrastructure
investment and development. In January 2024, the world’s largest asset manager,
BlackRock, announced its biggest acquisition since the global financial crisis:
Global Infrastructure Partners, the third-largest infrastructure investment
firm in the world.
Although
infrastructure already provides the backbone of daily life, the recent push to
transform it into an asset class also makes it a financial product that can be
traded on secondary markets. This dual role—infrastructure as both a concrete
reality and a financial construct—changes how people interact with large-scale,
earth-moving projects in their communities. Decisions about allocating
resources and managing the debt of a hydropower project, for example, are
shifted to higher, more distant levels of decision-making, where asset managers
and consultants can assess the risk profiles and “bankability” of projects. The
pressure from investors to “de-risk” infrastructure can constrain communities’
decision-making about what gets built and how it operates. The model
incentivizes governments to conform to standards set by the World Bank or the
Asian Development Bank, for example, rather than focusing on whether
communities’ needs are better served by less “bankable” projects, such as
hospitals and schools.
Today, global power
brokers include not only the countries and companies that build complex
networks but also standards-setting entities, such as the International
Maritime Organization and the Internet Engineering Task Force, that shape the
global protocols for building and operating infrastructure. This shift
downgrades the power of local communities and elevates a middle tier of
international players—consulting firms such as EY and KPMG, and multinational
law firms such as Clifford Chance and White & Case, as the legal
scholar Nahuel Maisley
has noted. The push to
standardize and accelerate “green infrastructure,” for example, can constrain
the way cities address housing insecurity, and in the process exacerbate
gentrification.
Beyond Ideology
At the heart of the
competition between China and the United States is a fight over who
controls today’s infrastructure. Beijing seems to understand this. But U.S.
efforts to counter China’s large-scale construction with its own projects
suggest that Washington has not mastered the nuances of infrastructure
statecraft. U.S. policymakers constantly portray China as an existential
challenge to the current world order. It’s “a battle between democracy and
autocracy,” according to U.S. President Joe Biden. This characterization
depicts two systems competing for supremacy over limited resources. A win for
China, such as its dominance in software for managing logistics operations,
represents a threat to U.S. security.
By contrast, thinking
in terms of infrastructure pushes beyond ideological binaries to focus on how
different actors shape the terms of engagement and the systems that move
information, money, and goods. This approach draws attention to the material
networks of communications, finance, military procurement, shipping, and
manufacturing, rather than fixating on a clash of worldviews.
The power accrued in
operating networks often has less to do with the grand designs of master
planners than with the second-order relationships, long-term ties, and gradual
evolution of a project. After all, infrastructure is not just a one-time
investment of pouring concrete or bulldozing a ditch. Projects must be
maintained, serviced, and financed over decades. It is often the second-order
relationships—the enduring work of maintenance firms, financial agents, and
ancillary services—that transform isolated procurement contracts into durable
connections.
Under a traditional
view of geopolitics, infrastructure represents just another theater of
competition between rivals. But this approach mischaracterizes infrastructure
power. Meaningful control depends not just on the nationality of, say, a
software platform’s owner, but also on the functionality of that platform, whom
it empowers, and what activities it precludes or enables.
A more constructive
framing would do more than denounce Chinese software or seek to “reshore” manufacturing
that hasn’t happened in the United States since the 1980s (producing, say,
container cranes, a market that China now dominates). Instead, an
infrastructure-oriented approach would envision a thicket of strategies to
ensure that critical networks such as shipping and payment systems are anchored
to market relationships, norms, and regulatory systems that provide
transparency and accountability.
Infrastructure’s
functionality depends on how people use it, not just who builds it. The early
history of the Internet provides a telling example: its architecture promised
an egalitarian, end-to-end design that democratized access to information. Yet
this design was soon transformed, as increasingly oligarchic corporations
seized on its potential to amass astounding profits for themselves and their
shareholders. The mere act of building infrastructure does not predetermine how
societies will adopt it.
In the same vein, the
Chinese origins of a software program or platform does not mean it should be
tallied on a ledger of great-power competition or classified as categorically
antidemocratic. Instead, its international adoption shows how central infrastructure
control has become to geopolitical rivalries. It is the substrate—the
earthworks and embankments—undergirding “strategic competition,” a buzzword of
choice among U.S. and European security planners. For the United States to
compete more ably on these terms, policymakers must become attuned to
implementation, long-term management, and oversight of modern societies’
hardwiring.
Call To Action
In the United States,
the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act and the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and
Jobs Act committed over $1 trillion to revamping the nation’s infrastructure.
The European Union has countered with investments in European semiconductor manufacturing,
renewable energy, and climate mitigation. But as the world gets rewired,
today’s global leaders remain bound to outdated conceptions of state-dominated
geopolitics. It is time for policymakers to reorient their thinking about where
true power lies in the global system and how that power can be harnessed to
address today’s problems.
First, policymakers
must focus on governance more than governments. The decisions of Musk or
BlackRock, for example, might carry more weight than those of the United Arab
Emirates or Denmark. Once the U.S. government can identify the gatekeepers,
designers, financiers, and implementers who control different layers of service
delivery, it can better understand how networks are managed and what
vulnerabilities they create. In a world where a small group of armed rebels can
imperil an artery on which roughly 15 percent of the world’s trade depends,
flexing hard power to combat the rebels’ threat to international shipping isn’t
enough. After all, the Red Sea region is also a communications chokepoint
through which 90 percent of the subsea cable capacity between Europe and Asia
passes. Downed ships pose a risk to communications connectivity, as the world
learned when several lines were severed in March, disrupting a quarter of
data traffic passing
between Europe and Asia. Improving resilience means not only addressing the
proximate threat but also working with insurers, shippers, cable operators, and
others to protect critical infrastructure.
Meanwhile, the
complexity of world-spanning problems has only grown. Managing the future of
biomedicine—unlocking the promise of cloning and gene editing, for example,
while balancing their risks—will require high-level negotiations and complex
agreements, and not just between governments. Space policy and pandemic
response are two areas in which it has been demonstrated that, when working in
isolation, national governments lack the power and tools to regulate
effectively. States will play a leading role in an infrastructural order, but
they must learn to work with new partners and traditional adversaries in novel
ways.
Because
infrastructure projects exist in a quasi-public–quasi-private middle ground,
they are often shielded from traditional market competition and public
accountability. Building large-scale networks tends to be expensive,
time-consuming, and dependent on public commitments and licensing. Centralized
decision-making can reduce transaction costs, and network operators tend to
benefit from rich-get-richer
effects. These features do not
lend themselves to democratic governance or public accountability. The world
needs better mechanisms to ensure that the infrastructure of modern life can
answer to communities’ calls for justice, transparency, and an equitable
distribution of resources.
As infrastructure
blocs fracture into U.S.- and Chinese-leaning domains, go-between locations
such as Qatar, Singapore, Turkey, and the United Arab Emirates will gain
prominence and neutral intermediaries will become more important, says
Alexander Geisler of the German Shipbrokers’ Association. The mutual suspicion
with which Chinese and U.S. policymakers view each other’s infrastructure
increases the likelihood that different specifications and patterns of lock-in
will emerge. One bloc’s payment platform might be organized around the U.S.
dollar while an alternative architecture enables the movement of China’s
renminbi and other currencies.
Similarly, one
network of logistics and shipping businesses could facilitate trade between the
United States and its allies, while Chinese-backed technologies and hardware
could enable connectivity among other maritime centers. Infrastructure
competition means battles over standards will likely escalate in the coming
years, and places and entities that can work as trusted intermediaries will
become more essential.
As global challenges
interconnect and amplify one another, world leaders will miss opportunities if
they don’t see more clearly how infrastructure is operating today. Global power
is no longer defined by stockpiling munitions in bunkers, dominating a single
supply chain, or wielding dominion over one technology. High-tech networks are
central to the basic functioning of modern societies, but today’s
infrastructure is too multifaceted, layered, and interconnected for any one
state to truly control it. In the age of infrastructure, shaping world order
requires political leaders to find new ways to collaborate with the
entrepreneurs, builders, bankers, and operators who manage the interdependent
systems that sustain twenty-first-century life.
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