UNIDIR Télégrammes : UNATIONS, GENEVE Télex : 41 29 62 Téléphone : + 41 (0) 22 917 16 05 Téléfax : + 41 (0) 22 917 01 76 Email : [email protected] UNIDIR PALAIS DES NATIONS 1211 GENÈVE 10 SUISSE - SWITZERLAND Connections Disarmament as humanitarian action: Making multilateral negotiations work University of Sussex, 8-9 January 2007 John Borrie, Project Manager, United Nations Institute for Disarmament Research (UNIDIR) Summary Social connections bind together individuals in society. By considering how and why these connections come about – and what happens when they break down – we can see common analytical themes emerge, whether in arms control negotiations, humanitarian action or development. Some work the DHA project has done to extend this thinking about social interactions in an armed violence related context – that of small arms proliferation – is briefly described. Lastly, a few suggestions are offered about what it could mean for international security work more broadly, for disarmament practitioners’ ways of working, and even extending it to other areas such as the diffusion of new technologies that could be turned to hostile use, like those in the life sciences. 2 I’ve been asked to tell you about the project I run at UNIDIR called Disarmament as Humanitarian Action: Making Multilateral Negotiations Work. It occurred to me that you don’t want to be bored by a dry description of the DHA project: I also think our research is better understood when considered in the context of the issues that face problem-solvers in the international sphere. So today I want to explore with you the theme of social interactions as connections, and why they’re relevant to my project’s work and thinking about disarmament in general. When I was a kid, one TV show I really enjoyed was written and presented by the gentleman you see here, James Burke. The show was called Connections.1 It took an interdisciplinary approach to the history of science and invention and showed how various discoveries, scientific achievements and historical world events built off one another in an interconnected way to bring about particular aspects of the modern world. I’ve been fascinated with these themes ever since. Eventually I trained in history at university and went on to join the New Zealand Foreign Service, where I ended up involved in arms control negotiations. These included the BWC protocol, the “New Agenda” coalition and the 2001 small arms programme of action. One big surprise for me about multilateral diplomacy is that there is a particular way of doing things, one based heavily on precedent and experience that sometimes has little space for the kind of thinking that James Burke showed in his documentaries. Perhaps it reflected my naivety as a young diplomat trained in history, rather than the law. Diplomats are accustomed to thinking about connections, but in quite particular ways – most often in the disarmament context of devising agreements that set rules about “things” from the top down; regulating 3 nuclear activities, for example, or reducing the number of nuclear warheads through contracts. In fact, one way to consider the substance of disarmament and arms control negotiation as they developed through the 20th century would be to describe them as generally reductionist.2 All this means is that as multilateral diplomacy’s community of practice developed, it tended to do so along lines that broke down complicated problems into their constituent elements. Specialists were brought into negotiations to deal with technical or military issues. Oversight at the diplomatic and political levels was supposed to keep this aligned with broader realities. Reductionism wasn’t so much a driver in interactions between states in terms of their security as a means to help them achieve it. This model was, and continues to be, very powerful. It’s especially useful in circumstances in which each negotiating actor has the time and resources to study and understand the postures of its negotiating counterparts. Then, in theory, they can extrapolate others’ likely strategies and motivations into a picture of the future on which they can act. Examples include nuclear reduction measures between the US and Soviet Union, the Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE) agreement and the CWC. These agreements all contain discrete components, lists – whether of bombers, tanks, nuclear warheads or toxic chemicals – and were rationally organised to solve concrete problems of identification, verification and other aspects of arms control. Sometimes, for practical or political reasons, the reductionist tendency could only be taken so far, though. Agreements like the 1972 BWC look very different from the CWC negotiated two decades later. In the BWC’s case, means of verification lagged behind political commitment to 4 completing its negotiation and so the resulting treaty’s very general in much of its drafting and lacks a verification system. The case could be made that at the turn of this century when people like myself were trying to devise a BWC verification regime through a protocol resembling the CWC, we were barking up the wrong tree. Make no mistake: verification will have to be an important aspect of the BWC regime in the future if it’s to retain credibility. But two big conundrums were never addressed during the protocol negotiations that have wider relevance: 1. That new technological developments and the desire for weapons are ultimately driven by social interactions, including those at the local level. 2. Traditional approaches to disarmament and arms control can be confounded when there are too many different but interacting factors to analyse.3 Based on my experiences in negotiations like the ones I’ve mentioned, I’m conviced that multilateral practitioners need new tools and perspectives to help them get their heads around these challenges – to “think outside the box” – in order to help them be more effective. Contrary to what you might have heard, multilateral failure isn’t simply due to lack of so-called “political will”. This isn’t to say that difficulties in international relations aren’t down to specific, underlying political differences. Of course, many are. Sometimes conflicting interests just can’t be reconciled. But invoking some all-pervasive force like political will can prevent us identifying new ways to lower the transactional costs of cooperation between negotiating actors to make it of enough perceived 5 benefit. Modest gains in this respect – say by modifying the procedural architecture of a multilateral institution – could have substantial effects. Searching for more productive ways of working in multilateral disarmament is what our project has tried to do. Specifically, it has two major themes: 1. A greater human security focus is relevant to disarmament and arms control processes. All human security means here is a focus on individuals and their communities as referent points for security, not just that of the nation state. The 1997 treaty banning anti-personnel mines is often held up as the prime example of bringing human security perspectives into arms control, including the influence of field-based perspectives from humanitarian deminers, physicians and those from mine affected communities. But there are also others, and some of these case studies are documented in our second volume of research.4 Linked to this is the recognition that if we’re going to treat humanitarian perspectives as relevant to the substance of arms control work, it’s also worth considering what being human means for the nature of these multilateral interactions. We’ve dubbed it the cognitive ergonomics of negotiating. Ergonomics are important, as anyone who’s used an uncomfortable keyboard or sat in a cramped airline seat for a long period of time knows. Yet, while they spend a great proportion of their time vying over matters of procedure, multilateral negotiators give little sustained thought to whether their perceptions, habits of work and structures they work within might be important to their effectiveness.5 And, in analyzing multilateral processes from academia, its perhaps easy to overlook the rich – and 6 often private – texture of human interactions and what about it is and isn’t significant. 2. Our work is concerned with developing practical proposals to apply this in functional terms to help negotiators. We want to help disarmament practitioners rethink their assumptions about multilateral work that often go unquestioned, including their perceptions and procedures. Perhaps this sounds abstract, which is why I want to rewind a bit and to think about what James Burke’s connections might mean for us. Social connections bind together individuals in society. By considering how and why these connections come about – and what happens when they break down – I think we can see a common analytical theme emerge, whether in arms control negotiations, humanitarian action or development. ↔↔↔ Let’s consider for a moment that cup of tea you drank this morning. As you’re hearing these words, somebody you’ve never met is working hard on your behalf. Somewhere, in Sri Lanka or elsewhere, tea is being grown and harvested to service your tea habit later this year. Eventually the tea is dried and otherwise prepared and packaged, ready for transport by other strangers, across the ocean to you here in Britain. For your part, I doubt you knew the name of the grocery assistant who put the packet of tea on the store shelf before you bought it, or the checkout operator who sold it to you. This morning, when you woke up, you switched on your electric jug. This device was probably imported, perhaps from Italy or Germany. You feel so confident in the safety of this device that you go and shower while it boils. A dam or power station somewhere else, minded by strangers, 7 generated the electricity that heated the water for your shower and your warm brew. After breakfast, you get into your car, built perhaps in Sweden or Japan, and bought at great cost to you from other strangers at a car dealership. Moreover, a mechanic you barely know serviced your vehicle. Implicitly, however, you trust that your car won’t break down or suffer a failure that will result in you dying a fiery death on the way to work. Or, perhaps you take a bus or train – the principle is the same. The people who’ve provided these things for you don’t know you. But they don’t need to, even though your life, your health and your prosperity depend upon them. You have every reason to be grateful for the intimate links that tie them to you. There are also lots of unintentional interactions between you and millions of other strangers around the world. Some of these are bad. The most important risk is infectious disease. Throughout history this has been a much greater threat to life than violence, and it remains true today. The WHO estimates that roughly 57 million illness or injury-related deaths were recorded for 2002 – a typical year. Nearly 11 million of these were due to infectious or parasitic disease. That’s just a little less than 20 per cent of the total. War and violence killed around 730,000 – a little over 1 per cent.6 Even in periods of major conflict, war has rarely rivalled disease as a killer: the influenza pandemic of 1918 alone killed more than 20 million people, more than died in World War One. Let’s consider the statistical risk of violent death at the hands of someone else. In Europe and the US, such deaths make up only one percent of all deaths. To put that in perspective, that’s much less than those due to traffic accidents and a bit more than half of those due to suicide. Even in Africa, violent deaths at the hands of others make up only a little over 2 8 percent of all estimated deaths. That means that even in on one of the most violent continents of the world, you’re ten times more at risk from death by disease than from murder. Yet these statistics don’t begin to capture the real impact of violence, of course. First of all, aside from the direct deaths caused by violence, disease, destitution and environmental damage follow in their wake. And, the fear of violence exerts a poisonous and disruptive effect on human relations. For every death at a stranger’s hands there are many thousands of living victims. For example, travellers have taken many million fewer airplane journeys since 911. The political and military map of the Middle East is being redrawn as a result of these events. And, in London, Tel Aviv, Madrid and Tokyo, people worry if it’s safe to take public transport. In Africa, millions of people are condemned to poverty and disease by the inability of the ordinary institutions of society to function without the periodic outbreak of violence. As the 2005 Human Security Report indicates, the measure of the indirect impact of conflict isn’t “simply the number of deaths, but rather the number of healthy years of life lost as a consequence of death, disease or other harmful conditions that develop as a consequence”.7 The economist Paul Seabright (from whom some of the ideas discussed here today are drawn) has observed that for all of these living victims, “their newly awakened fear of strangers disrupts the whole web of relations that bind people together in a healthy modern society and undermines all the institutions on which such a society depends, from schools to hospitals, shops, government departments, and the legal system.”8 9 Trust between strangers is the very fabric of human society. Without it, most of the things we hold dear and the rights and dignities in the modern world we hold to be self-evident are impossible. 21st century societies – whether we envisage New York or shell-pocked Kabul – are, if seen in this light, very fragile indeed. The “tunnel vision” that enables human beings to cooperate with strangers, and all of the cultural and social norms that flow from that, is what stands between us and violent anarchy, or the need for continual surveillance and repression in order to sustain cooperation given the complexity of our societies. These societies are both more fragile and more durable than we might expect. For instance, the 911 attacks on the World Trade Centre in New York were horrendous, causing thousands of casualties and billions of dollars of damage. But terror attacks, even on targets as economically significant and as symbolically important as these, didn’t rend the fabric of modern life irreparably. Likewise, despite attacks in Madrid and London, most people in those places still live their lives pretty similarly to before, perhaps more nervously.9 But when “tunnel vision” trust does break down seriously, this has pervasive and debilitating effects for people living in affected societies to do anything meaningful. Indeed, in the worst cases this breakdown can undermine social norms and so atomize society itself. What do we do in situations where we just cannot bring ourselves to trust strangers, for fear of their intentions against us, and when they feel the same? In these scenarios, we tend to fall back to our relationships with those we know well, and especially to those to whom we are related, if we can. This is precisely what we see in so many societies wracked by armed violence and under-development. Mechanisms for reliably cooperating with strangers are disconnected: either they have broken down, or they 10 never developed. From Afghanistan to Somaliland to Kosovo and Papua New Guinea, security and prosperity is to be found in the family, the clan and tribe, whether in ethnic or religious terms. These ties have much strength. Unfortunately, they may also be counter-productive in forming social cooperation free from nepotism or other forms of corruption. This much perhaps seems obvious. But I put it to you that thinking about these situations in this way has profound implications for multilateral work, whether in responding to humanitarian emergencies, in negotiating complex multilateral deals, or in planning development programs. Social interactions matter. For instance, a very complicated set of conditions need to be met to successfully rebuild post-conflict societies, but one yardstick could be how much intervention re-connects the web of trust between ordinary people, and permits cooperation with strangers. After all, trust, or its absence, creates a spectrum of differing contingent strategies. In some circumstances, contingent strategies in the absence of trust can be violent. Without the re-establishment of “tunnel vision” – the ability of strangers in a society to confidently interact with strangers – then international investments in post-conflict humanitarian efforts and development are simply likely to be money and effort down the drain. This, for example, is what seems to be happening in Iraq. Almost four years after the invasion, “liberation” from Saddam has instead seen spiralling alienation and violence between Iraqis of different ethnicities and faiths – conflicts suppressed during the decades of his brutal rule. It seems clear at present that the institutions in society intended to facilitate trust in the new Iraq such as the police, judiciary, welfare system and armed forces haven’t yet developed, however attractive the dream, because ordinary Iraqis don’t yet trust them each other sufficiently. In 11 this sense, the armed insurgency has been highly effective. Perceptions of insecurity matter, and they’re both driven by social interactions and drive them. ↔↔↔ This is all very well, but how will that awareness help multilateral practitioners? Looking at social phenomena as interdependent systems is a nice idea, and it’s mentioned a great deal in the rhetoric of statecraft. But it’s often less intuitive than attempting to simplify problems by breaking them into their constituent parts. Indeed, when diplomats talk about “complex” phenomena, it seems they often confuse them with those that are complicated. But in science there’s a clear distinction between what’s complicated and what’s complex. Even though it’s very sophisticated, a complicated system like a watch, a computer or car can’t be considered to be complex. The pieces can be studied in isolation and reassembled to understand the whole. The responses of the components and of the whole are fully determined and the fixed algorithms that rule the system produce linear and predictable outcomes. Real-life international security problems are frequently complex rather than just complicated. We live in a world that’s ever more interconnected. Changes often don’t occur in the smooth, predictable linear progressions we intuitively prefer. Instead, they often appear chaotic or indiscernible until they go through “tipping points” that we didn’t predict. Nothing much seems to happen, then everything does, seemingly at once, throughout the system. Examples include: • The spread of infectious disease; • The diffusion of some new technologies; • Refugee flows; 12 • Trafficking in people, guns and narcotic drugs; • Environmental damage. Policy makers need to move beyond rhetoric about complexity and interdependence and toward a real conceptual understanding about the characteristics and implications of these phenomenal, rather than traditional linear viewpoints that may not reflect what’s really going on. So, that’s what we tried to provide in a chapter in our third volume entitled “A physics of diplomacy?” containing a scientifically accurate “101” guide for diplomats exploring what complexity is about. In plain language, for instance, it explains the relevance of scientific concepts like phase transitions, self-organized criticality and complexity and network theory.10 Next, Aurélia (who is a physicist) constructed a model to use these concepts and techniques from complexity science to examine a human social phenomenon – that of the social interactions driving demand for small arms at a local level. The model isn’t a predictive one (in fact, it shows that specific predictions aren’t really possible in such a system) but it illustrates the fundamental mechanisms driving the proliferation of small arms throughout a population. There are some equations underpinning this model, but don’t let them intimidate you, as chapter 8 of “Thinking Outside the Box” also contains a plain language description.11 Let’s very briefly review the model. ↔↔↔ Curbing the spread of illicit guns is a difficult challenge in international security. Government cooperation in this area is already underway, and has focused on what is often described as supply-side measures. Broadly, supply-side measures are steps to control the flows of arms into, and their availability within, certain settings. Multilateral efforts, as shown by 13 agreements like the Vienna Firearms Protocol and the 2001 UN Programme of Action on the illicit trade of small arms and light weapons in all its aspects, have focused on trying, mainly through legal and regulatory means, to stop weapons being produced, circulated and used illicitly. Less well understood are the factors that drive demand for small arms and how these interact, both with each other and supply-side factors. Developing such an understanding is important. If policymakers don’t understand why people want to obtain and use illicit guns—and respond accordingly—supply-side measures alone are like trying to pump the water out of a basement without turning off the broken mains-pipe flooding it. While supply- and demand-side labels are convenient, they’ve led to confusion among some multilateral practitioners because of their association with conventional economic models. The problem is that these models, which assume that supply- and demand-side factors interact to achieve market equilibrium, fail to adequately describe many social phenomena that have epidemic characteristics. This includes the spread of small arms. In particular, orthodox economic theory assumes that agents, regardless of how others behave, have fixed preferences and rationally maximize their “utility”. Yet we know this to be a poor description of the real world. In many cases, others do affect our preferences, and this is likely to be especially true where perceptions of security or insecurity are concerned that might lead us to want to have a gun. Social interactions matter: our choices tend to be affected by what those around us are doing—not least if we think they are armed, or if their fear of those who are armed with illicit guns influences us. 14 And, armed violence may not be rationally planned or “pre-meditated” but can be responses to the actions of others or perceptions about other people’s behaviour. The model described in our third volume is adapted from work by two British economists, Campbell and Ormerod, which analyses social interactions in the dynamics of crime.12 What’s striking about their analysis is its different methodological approach to understanding the process by which crime rates increase (or decrease) across populations over time. The approach they took is similar to that used in mathematical biology to describe how potential epidemics are either spread or contained in a population. Key to the model is the simulation of social interactions, which isn’t taken into account in orthodox economic explanations. To see how our adapted approach works, divide a population into three groups. The first group (called N) is made up of people who aren’t susceptible to becoming gun owners. We can speculate about who might be in this group—young mothers, old-age pensioners—but this isn’t the purpose of the model whose aim is rather to illustrate the dynamics of flow between the three populations. The second group (called “C”) is comprised of those possessing guns. The third group (called “S”), includes everyone who isn’t in one of the two other groups, N or C, and consists of people susceptible to becoming gun owners. A system of nonlinear differential equations describes the flows between these groups. Without going into the maths (which in parts are beyond me) there are essential properties that the model had to preserve in order to be plausible, which are discussed in Aurélia’s chapter: • Our intuition tells us that a higher level of insecurity, or increasing the level of socioeconomic deprivation, should lead to a greater proportion of gun owners in a population. 15 population. • Allowance needs to be made for large variations across time and space of gun ownership. We know from observing the real world that populations living in similar contexts may sometimes present huge discrepancies in the number of people possessing a gun. • The model must satisfy concerns about the range of values N, S and G can take. None can be less than zero, for instance. What the outcomes tell us, which we can graph, is that two different levels of gun ownership are possible: one low (corresponding to the lower branch) and one high (represented by the upper branch). Let’s consider, for instance, a system situated at the extreme left of the lower branch. This corresponds to a population living in highly secure conditions and presenting a low number of people carrying a gun. Starting from this point, if the level of insecurity is increased little by little, the system moves along the lower branch and the proportion of gun owners increases slowly in the population. It’s interesting to note that even after a substantial worsening in security conditions, the gun ownership level has increased but in a very moderate way. However, it doesn’t work like that forever: when the end of the branch is reached, the system jumps suddenly from the lower to the upper branch. At this point, a tiny deterioration of the security level can bring about a tremendous change in the number of gun owners in the population. Identically, if the system starts from the right extremity of the upper branch, improvements in security conditions lead at first to a limited decrease in the proportion of gun owners. It’s only when the system reaches the downturn at the end of the upper branch that an abrupt jump is observed. At that point, a small improvement of security conditions makes the system switch from a society presenting a high level of gun ownership to a society with a low number of gun owners. 16 While the core of the model is based on simple assumptions, it produces results that are far from intuitive for the human brain, which unconsciously tends to analyse things in a linear way. In reality, complex social phenomena, like the proliferation of small arms and light weapons, are all but linear: such a conclusion has important implications for gun policy. It means, in particular, that theories assuming a direct and linear relationship between cause and effect may not only fail to describe the spread of small arms, but may actually be very misleading when used as a starting assumption for the elaboration of policy prescriptions, like those made at the multilateral level. To sum up, rather than making predictions, the model is a striking conceptual tool that is useful in at least three ways: • It highlights the core factors influencing demand for small arms in a manner taking into account the profound effect that social interactions have on individual decision making; • It helps to account for puzzling disparities in rates of gun ownership between apparently similar social systems that each display phase transition patterns—non-trivial sudden switches between two very different levels of gun ownership; and • It potentially offers policy makers the prospect of new policy options to address aspects of small arms proliferation. ↔↔↔ Our model is a first step, and is an example of how disarmament problems, and broader challenges of armed violence, can be reframed in new ways. Key to productive reframing is the recognition that there are connections to be made between the practice of multilateral work and other fields including the natural and behavioural sciences. 17 This kind of approach has a couple of big implications. The first is that the problem of small arms proliferation can be approached quite differently if considered as a complex social phenomenon. A host of tools already developed for other disciplines such as population biology, economics and physics can be deployed. There is nothing new under the sun, and scholars like Robert Axelrod and Thomas Schelling have known this for a long time. Indeed, the WHO, for instance, has been examining firearm violence using epidemiological tools for some years now.13 But a willingness to make connections and de-compartmentalize our thinking about disarmament problems has not yet penetrated the world of multilateral diplomacy very deeply. Following on from the type of model I’ve described, agent-based simulations of certain social phenomena would seem a logical next step. This is something we’ve recently received funding to begin looking at. In the small arms context, for instance, it would help test assumptions based on common wisdom held about the spread of small arms. Also, it could help to test and validate gaps in data collection on gun possession at the local level. These kinds of model could also be applied, in my view, to looking at the diffusion of new technologies like those in the life sciences that could potentially be turned to hostile use. We only have to look at the nonlinear transformations wrought by the internet, or the penetration of mobile phones in our societies to appreciate that social interactions drive technological change and vice versa. In a world in which the life sciences are becoming information sciences and their footprint in society is widening, surely these approaches are worth pursuing to better understand what is going on, and to help policy makers cope with it. 18 There is also another way to apply understanding that some social phenomena are complex in nature, one that also interests the DHA project greatly. That is, if we care to consider multilateral negotiations themselves as complex social systems. There is a lot that international relations theory and the broader social sciences fail to explain convincingly about what goes on in multilateral work. In particular, getting beyond the level of political biography in understanding the role and nature of informal social interactions between negotiators is a persistent challenge. For negotiators used to thinking about what’s going on around them – like all human beings – in linear ways, knowing that unexpected behaviours may emerge simply as a feature of the system may be very helpful. It would, at the very least, make them better negotiators because to be forewarned to be forearmed about the cognitive constraints upon them in the face of non-linear and counter-intuitive situations. But it could also lead to sounder recommendations for reform of institutional structures and procedures that sometimes currently hinder productive work – the Conference on Disarmament being a case in point. Looking at the influence of group size, perceptions of reputation and how to promote informal trust building between negotiators is key, and there is a lot that new disciplines like behavioural economics can usefully tell us – information that joins up nicely with other approaches I’ve described today. That brings my talk to an end. If you’ve gathered the impression that this is just scratching the surface then you’re right. The good news is that there’s a huge amount of information out there that could be useful in productively reframing multilateral negotiations – not only in how we 19 understand them, but in how headway can be made in reforming them, the theme of our volume on “Thinking Outside the Box”. Over the next year, while it will continue its research, the DHA project will also focus on engaging diplomats and other multilateral practitioners in various ways, including by exposing them to the ideas I’ve talked about today. We hope to show them that thinking outside the box doesn’t have to be a fringe activity, and can really help them in their collective endeavours. Failure to do so has real human costs. 1 (v.5.1.07) Burke has also written many books, some of which accompanied his documentary television programmes. For instance, see James Burke, Connections, London: Little Brown: 1978/1995. 2 See John Borrie, “Rethinking Multilateral Negotiations: Disarmament as Humanitarian Action” in John Borrie & Vanessa Martin Randin (eds), Alternative Approaches in Multilateral Decision Making, Geneva: UNIDIR: 2005. 3 For more discussion, see ibid and John Borrie, Thirty Years of the BTWC: ‘Back to the Future’? in E. Geissler, N. Sims and J. Borrie, 30 Years of the BTWC: Looking Back, Looking Forward, (Occasional Paper no. 2), Geneva: BioWeapons Prevention Project: 2005. 4 John Borrie & Vanessa Martin Randin (eds), Disarmament as Humanitarian Action: From Perspective to Practice, Geneva: UNIDIR: 2006. 5 See John Borrie, “What do we mean by “thinking outside the box” in multilateral disarmament and arms control negotiations?” in John Borrie & Vanessa Martin Randin (eds), Thinking Outside the Box in Multilateral Disarmament and Arms Control Negotiations, Geneva: UNIDIR: 2006. 6 World Health Organization, 2004 World Health Report: Changing History, Geneva: 2004: World Health Organization. 7 Human Security Centre, 2005 Human Security Report, Oxford: 2005: Oxford University Press, p. 126. Moreover, an intriguing statistical analysis produced in 2005 by the Carnegie Endowment argues that the poorest countries – most of whom are in Africa – lost, on average, some 40 percent of their economic output because of their much greater involvement in wars compared with the rest of the world in the last 25 years. See Branko Milanovic, Why Did the Poorest Countries Fail to Catch Up? (Carnegie Papers no. 62) (Washington D.C., Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, November 2005), p. 25. 8 Paul Seabright, The Company of Strangers: A Natural History of Economic Life, (Princeton/Oxford, Princeton University Press, 2004), pp. 246-247. 9 While these attacks are awful, psychologically they could be viewed as external and not seriously damaging to the webs of trust that exist within these societies. 10 Aurélia Merçay & John Borrie, “A physics of diplomacy? The dynamics of complex social phenomena and their implications for multilateral negotiations” in John Borrie & Vanessa Martin Randin (eds), Thinking Outside the Box in Multilateral Disarmament and Arms Control Negotiations, Geneva: UNIDIR: 2006. 11 Aurélia Merçay, “Non-linear modelling of small arms proliferation” in John Borrie & Vanessa Martin Randin (eds), Thinking Outside the Box in Multilateral Disarmament and Arms Control Negotiations, Geneva: UNIDIR: 2006. 12 For a description, see Paul Ormerod, Butterfly Economics, London: Faber & Faber: 1998. 13 http://www.who.int/violence_injury_prevention/.
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