• In October 2025, I had the privilege to visit Japan for the first time. I had been invited to the Dutch pavilion at the 2025 Osaka Expo to share my insights on multi-stakeholder partnerships as a key way of implementing the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). What I wanted to achieve with my talk was nothing less than convincing the audience that, in order to achieve a society based on well-being and the SDGs, we need to shift our mindset from one of competition and conflict to one of collaboration and partnership. Easier said than done when our entire culture is based on the ideas of individual achievements and competition.

    Right before my keynote lecture, in order to calm down, I took a walk across the huge Expo terrain, and I was totally overwhelmed. So many people, more than 30 degrees, and all these beautiful pavilions competing for my attention. I had to escape for a bit, and so I went up on the wooden ring that surrounds the entire Expo. And when you are up there, you can see two things very clearly. First, everything is connected, everything is a big circle. And second, from far away, that what looked very different becomes very similar. All the beautiful pavilions from above look very much the same, just buildings. And this is an important realization. We have different opinions, ideas, and cultures, but we are all connected. We have a shared goal to make the world a better place than it is right now, and we have to do it together. With this realization in mind, I went back down to deliver my lecture.

    And as you are all aware of, the world is in a terrible state right now. In fact, we have just received confirmation that seven out of nine planetary boundaries have been transgressed, the recent UN summit has shown division and lack of leadership, while wars and conflict are raging and new technologies are changing our daily lives faster than we can make sense of it.   

    In this situation, it is good to be reminded that the world as we perceive it, the real world, is shaped by our mindsets, by our thoughts, words and actions. If we perceive the world as violent and full of conflict, it will be full of conflict and violence. To remedy this situation, I want to prescribe an antidote, the antidote of partnership and collaboration.

    This has two levels: the general idea of partnership and collaboration as an antidote to conflict; and multi-stakeholder partnerships as a concrete institutional form of global sustainability governance. Both will be discussed briefly in the following sections.

    Partnerships: the building blocks of nature and society

    A partnership is a collaborative arrangement in which different actors contribute their unique strengths to achieve something they could not accomplish alone.

    When we hear the word partnership, many of us think of something familiar. A partnership might be two friends opening a small business together and sharing the risks and rewards. It might be a married couple, building their lives on trust and mutual support. Or it might be two athletes in a doubles tennis match, coordinating every move to win. At its core, a partnership means people working together toward a shared goal, combining their strengths, and relying on one another. Partnerships are not only human inventions but exist everywhere in nature.

    In nature, there are three main symbiotic relationships (another way to refer to partnerships): commensalism, parasitism and mutualism. A bird building a nest in a tall tree is an example of commensalism, where one species benefits and the other remains unaffected. But if the bird is a cuckoo, it will use other birds to care for its offspring, a relationship we refer to as parasitism. However, In nature, some of the strongest partnerships are also the most surprising. Take my favourite example of symbiosis (the third kind of symbiotic relationship), lichens, those crusty, colourful patches you often see on rocks or tree bark. A lichen is not one organism, but two: a fungus and an alga living together. The fungus provides structure, shelter, and protection. The alga, in turn, produces food through photosynthesis. Alone, neither would survive in such harsh conditions, bare rocks, icy tundra, dry deserts, and in space. But together, they create a thriving mini-ecosystem, able to live where few others can. This is a true example of symbiotic mutualism.

    This is a perfect illustration of partnership: very different organisms pooling their strengths to achieve what neither could do alone. And just like lichens in nature, symbiotic partnerships that create value for everyone involved do exist also in the social realm. Multi-stakeholder partnerships bring together very different actors, governments, businesses, communities, and NGOs, to create solutions in challenging environments that no individual actor could produce alone. The diversity is what makes the partnership resilient and effective. And they are referred to as multi-stakeholder partnerships, because they involve a variety of ‘stakeholders’, i.e. different groups that all have a role to play in achieving sustainable development.

    In short, multi-stakeholder partnerships are a perfect embodiment of the partnership paradigm that I alluded to in the beginning of this text. Let me know tell you a bit more about what we know about these partnerships when it comes to achieving sustainable development and well-being.

    Multi-stakeholder partnerships for sustainable development: the promise and pitfalls

    What do we know about the first generation of multi-stakeholder partnerships for sustainable development that became more frequent at the international level starting in the early 2000? Let me take you back to 2002 and the World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg.

    Partnerships became prominent as a new instrument of global environmental governance around the time of 2002 World Summit on Sustainable Development. Governments were meeting in Johannesburg in South Africa to commemorate the 10-year anniversary of the 1992 United Nations Conference on Environment and Development in Rio de Janeiro. It was expected that governments would reaffirm their 1992 commitments and agree on additional binding measures to protect the environment. However, in the wake of the 2001 9/11 terrorist attacks in the US, priorities had rapidly shifted from environment and development to security and terrorism. As a result, countries could not agree on anymore international treaties. Instead, governments agreed to prioritize so-called type-2 agreements, public-private partnerships, to implement existing multilateral obligations. Instead of taking responsibility themselves, governments transferred some of that responsibility to a broader set of stakeholders.

    This new approach promised to deliver a number of benefits, compared with the more traditional approach of multilateral and international binding agreements negotiated by states: additional resources; contextual knowledge; a focus on solutions; less politicization; and increased inclusiveness and representation. But criticism was also raised. Observers warned against potential corporate capture, greenwashing, lack of responsibility of governments for failure and a possible diffusion of accountability.

    Consequently, a lot of effort was directed towards analyzing the effectiveness of partnerships. First, empirical research programs have confirmed a number of challenges and shortcomings.

    Weak outcomes. Empirical studies have shown that many multi-stakeholder partnerships fail to achieve their intended goals or deliver tangible impacts on sustainable development. Often, MSPs generate only incremental progress, limited to pilot projects or symbolic initiatives. Weak institutionalization, lack of enforcement mechanisms, and vague objectives contribute to underperformance, raising questions about their overall effectiveness as instruments of global sustainability governance.

    Low accountability. A persistent challenge in MSPs concerns insufficient accountability mechanisms. Many partnerships lack systematic monitoring, transparent reporting, or independent evaluation of outcomes. As a result, stakeholders and the public often cannot assess whether commitments are met or resources are used effectively. This absence of oversight weakens credibility and can allow powerful actors to pursue their interests without being held responsible for failures or negative impacts.

    Power asymmetries. Research highlights that MSPs often reproduce existing global power imbalances. Corporate actors, international organizations, and stakeholders from the Global North frequently dominate agenda-setting, decision-making, and resource allocation. This can marginalize voices from civil society, local communities, and the Global South, leading to biased priorities and outcomes that reflect the interests of the powerful rather than addressing broader sustainability or equity concerns.

    Democratic deficit. MSPs give significant policy influence to private and non-state actors, but these entities are not democratically elected or accountable to citizens. This shift of authority from public institutions to hybrid, voluntary arrangements raises concerns about legitimacy and representativeness. Without clear mechanisms for public oversight or participation, MSPs risk undermining democratic governance while advancing agendas shaped by selective stakeholder groups.

    Fragmentation. The proliferation of MSPs has contributed to a fragmented landscape of global sustainability initiatives. Many partnerships operate in isolation, with overlapping mandates and competing goals. This lack of coordination can lead to policy incoherence, duplication of efforts, and inefficiencies in resource use.

    Funding problems. Financial instability is a recurring obstacle for MSPs. Many partnerships depend on short-term, voluntary, or in-kind contributions, resulting in unpredictable funding streams and limited operational capacity. Insufficient resources constrain project implementation, long-term planning, and the ability to monitor outcomes effectively. This reliance on ad hoc funding can also reinforce power asymmetries, as wealthier partners gain influence through financial leverage.

    Exclusion. Despite their inclusive rhetoric, MSPs frequently fail to engage marginalized groups such as local communities, Indigenous peoples, or small-scale producers. Barriers related to language, resources, and access prevent meaningful participation. As a result, the perspectives of those most affected by sustainability challenges are often missing from decision-making processes, weakening the legitimacy, equity, and contextual relevance of partnership outcomes.

    Depoliticization. MSPs often emphasize technical solutions and voluntary collaboration while avoiding the structural and political roots of unsustainability, such as unequal trade relations, power concentrations, or extractive economic models. This depoliticization narrows the scope of action to manageable, apolitical projects rather than addressing contested questions about justice, redistribution, and systemic transformation. Consequently, MSPs risk perpetuating the very dynamics they aim to reform.

    Second, there is a robust consensus on the conditions for success of MSPs.

    Optimal partner mix. Successful MSPs bring together a balanced set of stakeholders—governments, businesses, and civil society—ensuring relevance and diversity. Avoiding dominance by powerful actors helps foster trust, inclusivity, and the co-creation of solutions that reflect multiple perspectives and interests.

    Effective leadership. Entrepreneurial and visionary leaders are essential for initiating, steering, and sustaining partnerships. They build trust, broker compromises among diverse actors, and maintain momentum through complex negotiation processes, ensuring long-term commitment and strategic coherence across all stages of collaboration.

    Stringent goal-setting. Clearly defined, measurable, and time-bound objectives are critical for guiding collective action. Goals should align with international norms and sustainability frameworks, providing a shared reference point that enhances accountability, facilitates coordination, and allows for systematic progress assessment.

    Sustained funding. Stable, diversified, and predictable financial resources enable continuity and resilience. Reducing dependence on a single donor or corporate actor minimizes power imbalances, supports long-term planning, and strengthens the partnership’s capacity to implement, scale, and adapt activities effectively.

    Professional management. Well-managed MSPs rely on dedicated staff, transparent governance structures, and formal procedures for decision-making and conflict resolution. Professional administration ensures efficiency, clarity of roles, and the ability to mediate interests while maintaining credibility and operational effectiveness.

    Monitoring, reporting, and evaluation. Regular, transparent monitoring and evaluation foster accountability, learning, and legitimacy. Public reporting on performance and outcomes allows stakeholders to assess progress, share best practices, and adapt strategies based on evidence rather than assumptions or political considerations.

    Active meta-governance. Effective coordination by international organizations or public authorities helps align MSPs with broader governance frameworks. Meta-governance reduces duplication, enhances coherence across initiatives, and ensures that individual partnerships contribute meaningfully to global sustainability goals and collective action.

    Favourable political and social context. Partnerships perform better when embedded within supportive political, institutional, and social environments. Alignment with local norms, regulatory frameworks, and community expectations enhances legitimacy, facilitates implementation, and fosters ownership among domestic stakeholders and beneficiaries.

    Fit to problem-structure. MSPs are most effective when addressing “benign” problems—those with shared interests, clear solutions, and manageable complexity. For highly political or “malign” issues, conflicting interests and structural barriers often exceed the collaborative capacity of voluntary partnerships.

    The new generation of partnerships: fit for purpose?

    In 2015, more than a decade after the first generation of international MSPs, the newly agreed-upon Sustainable Development Goals of the United Nations (SDGs) elevated MSPs to a new level. In SDG 17, partnerships are identified as a key delivery mechanisms for the SDGs. One of the specific sub-goals of SDG 17 is to “Enhance the Global Partnership for Sustainable Development, complemented by multi-stakeholder partnerships that mobilize and share knowledge, expertise, technology and financial resources, to support the achievement of the Sustainable Development Goals in all countries, in particular developing countries”.

    As a consequence of the elevated status of MSPs as key delivery instruments for achieving the SDGs, more than 9000 concrete partnerships and commitments have since been registered with the dedicated UN action platform. Similar to the earlier generation of MSPs, much was expected from them initially, including to perform better, to be more transformative and more inclusive and to effectively address the challenge of fragmentation and siloes in implementing the SDGs. What do we know about this new generation of partnerships?

    Performance. We find that the new generation of MSPs is connecting various SDGs but not necessarily between the ones that could have most impact.

    MRV. A majority of MSPs has no strict MRV procedures in pace, which makes measuring progress difficult and accountability almost impossible.

    Transformative. When we study system transformation (that is what we ultimately want to achieve), we can think about a range of leverage points for change. Some are easy to realize but will not have deep impact. Some are more difficult to achieve but once achieved, they will generate widespread and rapid change. In the case of partnerships, we find that leverage points are used that do not touch upon the deeper drivers of unsustainability, such as worldviews and mindsets but rather information-based leverage points.

    These new insights confirm that MSPs can play an important role in delivering SDG implementation, but also highlight that several shortcomings need to be urgently addressed in order to achieve the full potential of what MSPs are capable of. As the 2030 SDG agenda is slowly coming to an end, discussion on follow-up are emerging. It will be crucial to safeguard our collective lessons-learned for effective and transformative MSPs for the time beyond 2030.

  • The international system is is crisis, undergoing a profound transformation. We seem to be quickly regressing back to a system of national egoism, “The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must”.

    Addressing the fundamental crisis of climate change will not work based on national egoism. We need to revive global cooperation. Here is why climate change needs global cooperation (and what we have already achieved in that regard, and need to protect).

    Why is climate change an international problem?

    Climate change doesn’t stop at national borders. When greenhouse gases are released into the atmosphere, whether in one country or another, they mix globally and affect the entire planet. That means the emissions from one region can contribute to rising temperatures, sea level rise, or extreme weather events on the other side of the world.

    No single country can solve the climate crisis on its own. Even if one nation cuts its emissions drastically, global warming will continue unless others do the same. That’s why international cooperation is essential. We need global agreements, like the Paris Agreement, where countries work together to reduce emissions, share technology, and support those most vulnerable to climate impacts.

    In short, climate change is a shared problem, and it needs shared solutions.

    What problem is climate change actually?

    At its core, climate change means the Earth’s average temperature is rising, mainly because of human activities, especially the burning of fossil fuels like coal, oil, and gas. This releases carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, trapping heat like a blanket around the planet.

    The main drivers of climate change are things we depend on every day: energy production, transportation, agriculture, and industry. These systems release the bulk of the emissions, but they’re also deeply connected to how our societies and economies function.

    Climate change isn’t just about the environment. It affects food security, water supply, health, and even global stability. Heatwaves, droughts, floods, and storms are becoming more intense and more frequent. And those who are least responsible often suffer the most.

    But here’s the deeper challenge: climate change is tied to the way we live, produce, and consume. It’s about what we value, like convenience, growth, or short-term profit, and whether we’re willing to shift toward more sustainable, fair, and long-term ways of thinking.

    How is climate change being addressed? From Kyoto to Pais and beyond

    Because climate change affects everyone, and no country can fix it alone, international cooperation has been key. Over the past few decades, countries have come together under the United Nations to try to tackle the problem together. The most well-known result of this is the Paris Agreement, signed in 2015.

    The Paris Agreement marked a fundamental turning point in global climate governance. While it is often described as a successor to the Kyoto Protocol of 1997, the two agreements differ significantly in their architecture, scope, and approach to mobilizing climate action. These changes are not merely procedural tweaks, they reflect lessons learned from nearly two decades of climate diplomacy, as well as the shifting political, economic, and scientific context in which the agreements were negotiated.

    One of the most visible shifts from Kyoto to Paris is the move from a top-down compliance system to a bottom-up pledge-and-review process.

    Under the Kyoto Protocol, emission reduction targets were negotiated at the international level and legally assigned to a limited set of industrialized countries, the so-called Annex I Parties. These commitments, measured against a 1990 baseline, were binding and subject to a formal compliance regime. Developing countries, by contrast, were not required to adopt binding targets, based on the principle of “common but differentiated responsibilities.”

    By 2015, this binary division between developed and developing countries had become politically untenable and environmentally insufficient. The Paris Agreement introduced Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs), which every Party (regardless of income level or development status) must submit. These pledges are determined domestically, tailored to national circumstances, and updated every five years with an expectation of increased ambition. This “bottom-up” structure is intended to encourage universal participation, while a transparent review process and global stocktakes create soft pressure for stronger action over time.

    The Kyoto Protocol was focused on quantified emissions reductions, for example, requiring Annex I countries to cut greenhouse gas emissions by an average of 5% below 1990 levels during the first commitment period (2008–2012). Although clear in scope, this design did not link directly to long-term climate stabilization goals, and it applied to only a fraction of global emissions.

    The Paris Agreement, in contrast, anchors its ambition in a scientifically informed temperature target: holding the increase in global average temperature “well below” 2°C above pre-industrial levels and pursuing efforts to limit it to 1.5°C. This framing reflects advances in climate science and the recognition that the impacts of climate change intensify rapidly between these thresholds. The focus on a temperature outcome also allows for more flexible national pathways, provided that the aggregate effect of NDCs aligns with the long-term goal.

    Kyoto was fundamentally a government-to-government agreement. While it enabled mechanisms such as the Clean Development Mechanism (CDM), the formal responsibility for mitigation rested squarely on national governments. Engagement with the private sector, cities, and civil society was indirect and mostly limited to project-level activities.

    Paris explicitly acknowledges that climate action is not the exclusive domain of states. The Agreement encourages cities, regions, businesses, investors, and non-governmental organizations to take active roles in mitigation, adaptation, and finance. This is not simply rhetoric, but initiatives such as the Marrakech Partnership for Global Climate Action and the UNFCCC’s Global Climate Action Portal now serve to track and showcase non-state commitments alongside national policies. The rationale is that accelerating and scaling up climate action requires mobilizing all segments of society, not just central governments.

    The Kyoto Protocol’s architecture was heavily weighted toward mitigation, i.e. reducing greenhouse gas emissions. Adaptation and capacity-building were treated as supplementary concerns. This reflected the late-1990s policy focus on preventing dangerous climate change primarily through emission cuts.

    By the time of the Paris negotiations, it had become clear that even the most ambitious mitigation efforts would need to be complemented by robust adaptation strategies, financial support, and technology cooperation. The Paris Agreement adopts a holistic framework covering mitigation, adaptation, loss and damage, climate finance, technology development and transfer, capacity-building, and a transparency mechanism that applies to all Parties. It institutionalizes the concept of a global stocktake every five years to assess collective progress across all these dimensions, providing an iterative cycle of planning, reporting, and ratcheting up ambition.

    Why do these changes matter?

     The shift from Kyoto to Paris represents a pragmatic adaptation to political realities and scientific urgency. Kyoto’s legally binding but narrow commitments proved insufficient to bend the global emissions curve, in part because they excluded major emerging economies and lacked the flexibility to adjust to changing circumstances. Paris’s inclusive, iterative, and multi-actor design seeks to overcome these limitations by combining universal participation with dynamic ambition-raising.

    However, the Paris model is not without its challenges. The reliance on nationally determined pledges means that ambition is only as strong as domestic political will and capacity. The temperature goal provides a unifying vision, but translating it into sufficient and timely action remains a formidable task. Moreover, while non-state actors have stepped up in unprecedented ways, their efforts need to be systematically integrated with robust national policies.

    The differences between Kyoto and Paris thus reflect a deeper evolution in the philosophy of international climate governance: from a compliance-driven treaty among a few industrialized countries to a global framework that mobilizes all nations and actors toward a shared long-term objective. Whether this transformation will deliver the pace and scale of change required is the defining question for climate diplomacy in the coming decade.

    What are positive examples of progress already being made?

    Despite existing challenges and severe delays in the implementation of Paris, there’s also a lot of progress, and that’s important to recognize.

    More and more countries are investing in renewable energy like wind and solar, which are now cheaper than fossil fuels in many places. Cities are rethinking mobility, with better public transport, bike lanes, and electric vehicles becoming the norm.

    Some countries have set ambitious goals to reach net-zero emissions, and industries are starting to innovate, whether it’s steel made without coal, or buildings designed to be energy-neutral.

    We’re also seeing a shift in values. People are talking more about sustainability, companies are being held accountable for their carbon footprints, and climate awareness is growing, especially among young people.

    These are signs that change is possible. The solutions are already out there; we just need to scale them up and make sure the transition is fair and inclusive. So yes, climate change is a big problem. But we’re not starting from scratch. The world is moving, and with enough ambition and cooperation, we can still shape a better, more sustainable future.

  • Across civilizations and centuries, balance with the natural world was more than a metaphor, it was a way of knowing, a way of being.

    In Taoism, the dance of yin and yang expresses the interdependence of opposites: light and dark, action and stillness, life and decay. Harmony arises not from dominance, but from reciprocity.

    In Buddhism, the principle of balance is woven into the very fabric of the path to liberation. The Middle Way, neither indulgence nor denial, emphasizes moderation and harmony within oneself and with the world. Importantly, Buddhist cosmology does not separate humans from nature; all beings are seen as arising through dependent origination, meaning everything exists only in relation to everything else. There is no isolated self, no isolated species, only interconnection. Suffering arises when we resist this reality, when we cling, extract, or separate.

    In Stoic philosophy, living in accordance with nature was the foundation of virtue and peace. And the ancient Greeks spoke of kosmos, not simply as the universe, but as an ordered, elegant whole, where human flourishing meant aligning oneself with the harmony of the whole.

    And across Indigenous traditions worldwide, nature was never “other.” It was kin, alive with agency, and deserving of respect. These worldviews were rooted in a common principle: that humans are part of a larger whole, and that our survival depends on maintaining the delicate balance within it. When going into the forest, we would breath deep and meet our brothers and sisters, the trees, who are part of our breath.

    For most of human history, balance wasn’t optional. It was the definition of wisdom.

    But then came a rupture.

    Around the time of the European Enlightenment, we began to see the world differently. Not as a partner in dialogue, but as an object of study and control.

    Think of Francis Bacon, who famously envisioned science as a means to “bind nature to our service.” Nature was no longer a living presence but a machine, predictable, disassembled, to be optimized. The philosophical shift was subtle, but profound. We no longer asked how to live with nature; we asked how to master it.

    This ushered in a new kind of asymmetry. We built systems that take more than they give, and knowledge frameworks that prized abstraction over embeddedness. What was once a feedback loop became a one-way extraction. What was once a conversation became a monologue.

    Today, imbalance is not just environmental. It is psychological, social, and spiritual.

    Climate disruption. Species extinction. Soil depletion. Plastic pollution in our bloodstream. These are symptoms, yes, but they are also signals: signs that something deeper has been lost in our orientation toward the world.

    The term Anthropocene doesn’t just mark a geological epoch. It marks a philosophical moment, a time when one species disrupts the balance of the whole. We have collectively managed to cross 6 out of 9 planetary boundaries. We live, increasingly, inside metaphors of limitless growth, linear progress, expansion, and unilateral control. But nature doesn’t follow linear scripts. It cycles, it oscillates, it corrects. And we have forgotten how to listen to Mother Nature.

    Imbalance is no longer an anomaly. It has become our operating system.

    So the question I pose is this: Can we relearn symmetry? Not as nostalgia, but as an act of courage?

    We don’t need to abandon science or modernity. But we do need to recover the parts we left behind, those ancient intuitions of humility, interdependence, and restraint. We need a new synthesis of knowledge and wisdom, of progress and perspective. We need a new Middle Way.

    Perhaps balance is not a state to be achieved, but a relationship to be restored. And perhaps that restoration must begin not in policy or technology alone, but in how we think, in the philosophical ground from which our actions grow. To restore balance with nature, we must first repair the rupture in our understanding. And in doing so, we may find that the very idea of balance, once discarded, is the very foundation of everything.

  • Attending ESA’s 2025 Living Planet Symposium in Vienna, I encountered a familiar refrain: if only we had more and better data on the state of our environment, from climate change, biodiversity loss, and air pollution to plastics and pesticides, then, surely, decision-makers would finally act. And if they don’t, it’s because scientists haven’t communicated the facts clearly enough. If we just simplify the charts, make the message more digestible, talk like normal people, the change will come.

    I’m very sorry to burst that bubble.

    Politics isn’t failing us because scientists have failed to explain the problem. It’s not a lack of pie charts or language for five-year old children that’s keeping action at bay. The truth is far more unsettling: policy-makers already understand the mess we’re in. Many of them are fully briefed. They’re not confused. They’re conflicted at best, corrupt at worst.

    So why does the data so rarely lead to meaningful decisions? Let’s consider three uncomfortable truths.

    First, politics runs on power, not on evidence. In the political realm, power is the only currency that matters. Scientific insights, no matter how profound or urgent, are powerless unless they can be translated into influence. A dataset without a constituency, a model without a lobbying arm, is simply background noise. If your science doesn’t threaten or bolster someone’s power, it might as well not exist.

    Second, politics is emotional, not rational. Voters don’t support leaders because of their nuanced grasp of atmospheric modelling. They follow charisma, storytelling, and tribal signals, well-fitting suits, soundbites, and sometimes the yellow-press home story. Political movements thrive not by appealing to rational self-interest, but by channelling emotion: fear, hope, anger, pride. Facts are too often bystanders in this game.

    Third, science often challenges the status quo, and that makes it a threat. Research on climate, biodiversity, or pollution doesn’t just reveal problems; it implicates specific industries, disrupts business models, and demands transformation. Those benefiting from the current system have every incentive to delay, discredit, or distract. Entire industries exist to muddy the waters just enough to make inaction seem like a reasonable choice.

    So no, the problem isn’t a lack of data, or that scientists are too obscure in their messaging. The problem is that information alone does not change power structures, emotional narratives, or entrenched interests.

    We must stop pretending that clarity will save us. The facts are already clear. The question is: who has the power to act on them, and who is willing to give up what it takes to let them?

    What can be done? Here is a simple (but difficult to enact) recipe.

    Show how your scientific findings empower actors. Connect your findings to emotions. Connect your findings to those interests challenging the status quo. This should ensure that scientists are heard and not silences. Give it a try!

  • We’re not just facing one big crisis, we’re facing many of them, all at once.

    Climate change, geopolitical tension, rising inequality, technological disruption, pandemics, information warfare, it’s overwhelming. But what makes this moment especially dangerous is that these crises don’t exist in isolation. They overlap, feed off each other, and make everything harder to solve. This is what experts are now calling a polycrisis. And just when the world needs a strong, cooperative international system to respond, that system itself is failing us.

    So, what exactly is a “polycrisis”?

    The term builds on ideas from the 1993 book Terre-Patrie (Earth-Homeland) and has gained traction in recent years. A polycrisis refers to a situation where multiple global challenges, from economic, environmental, political to social and technological, collide and interact in unpredictable ways. They don’t just add up; they compound.

    Take the global food system: it’s under strain from climate impacts, supply chain breakdowns, war, and pandemic disruptions, all at the same time. Other elements of the polycrisis include the climate emergency, global health threats, inequality, economic instability driven by new technologies, the rise of AI, and disinformation wars.

    The idea is also backed by insights from complexity science. In complex systems, the whole behaves differently than the sum of its parts. That’s why the polycrisis is often described as a “wicked problem”, one that’s hard (or even impossible) to solve neatly, because the rules keep changing, and the problems are deeply interconnected. If we keep addressing these issues in isolation, we risk missing the bigger picture and creating unintended consequences in other systems.

    The international system is under pressure, too

    The institutions and agreements that make up the international system, stuff like the UN, global trade frameworks, and transnational alliances, were built to manage global cooperation.

    But that system is now facing its own existential crisis.

    Some describe it as the unraveling of the global rules-based order. Others call it the decline of Western liberal democracy. However you frame it, the world is clearly moving from a unipolar moment (dominated by the West) into a more fragmented, multipolar reality. While this change is not ‘bad’ in itself, the emerging new world order has three big features we need to watch.

    The Rise of Authoritarianism

    Around the world, we’re seeing more leaders and regimes consolidating power, limiting freedoms, and suppressing dissent. Whether in the name of stability, nationalism, or economic growth, authoritarianism is making a comeback.

    Why? Several reasons:

    • Economic frustration: Rising inequality and a sense that democracy isn’t delivering results drive people to seek strong, symbolic leadership.
    • Populist politics: Leaders exploit public dissatisfaction, often undermining democratic norms under the guise of protecting national identity or restoring order.
    • Technology: Digital surveillance, disinformation, and control over social media give authoritarian regimes powerful tools to monitor citizens and shape narratives.
    • Geopolitical shifts: As Western influence declines, countries like China and Russia offer alternative governance models focused on order and growth over democratic freedoms.

    The consequences go far beyond borders. Authoritarian regimes often reject cooperation and opt for more aggressive, unilateral actions (to be fair, some Democracies do that too).

    The Return of Protectionism

    A second trend is the rise of economic protectionism, that is policies that shield domestic industries through tariffs, quotas, or regulatory hurdles. This marks a major shift away from the global trend toward trade liberalization that defined the post–World War II era.

    What’s driving it?

    • Economic nationalism, spurred by job losses and deindustrialization.
    • Distrust in globalization after the 2008 financial crisis and COVID-19.
    • Supply chain vulnerabilities exposed during the pandemic, prompting governments to secure critical industries at home.

    As countries retreat inward, global cooperation becomes harder, and the economic instability deepens.

    Emerging Alliances Challenging the West

    While Western powers (like the G7) try to maintain their leadership, new alliances are forming that challenge their authority.

    China and Russia, for instance, are actively promoting alternatives to the Western-led world order, such as the BRICS+ bloc, and openly questioning who gets to write the rules.

    These shifts reflect a broader trend: the postwar global system is no longer the only game in town.

    So where do we go from here?

    The international system, rooted in the values of sovereignty, peaceful cooperation, and sustainability, is being pulled in multiple directions. We’re seeing the cracks.

    But giving up on global cooperation isn’t an option. The question is:

    How can we protect the core of a rules-based international system, while also adapting it to handle today’s complex, fast-changing world?

    There are no easy answers. But the first step is seeing the big picture and thinking systemically. We need fresh ideas, bold thinking, and new forms of collaboration.

    What are your thoughts? How do we rebuild trust, protect democracy, and prepare for the next phase of global transformation?

    Let’s start the conversation.

  • As a social scientist, I spend a lot of time thinking about how people communicate, connect, and construct meaning. So it only felt right to apply a little of that thinking to my own online presence.

    This website is my humble attempt at practicing what I preach: creating a space where ideas, research, and the occasional soapbox moment can live in peace (or at least be less scattered across institutional pages, half-updated profiles, and forgotten conference bios).

    It’s part academic archive, part digital identity experiment, and part proof that even qualitative researchers can wrangle a bit of HTML. If you’re here to browse, collaborate, or just procrastinate responsibly: welcome! And if something doesn’t work, it’s probably a feature, not a bug (I study human behavior, not websites).