CETA – A Failure of Direct Diplomacy?
By Julian Dierkes
CETA, the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement between Canada and the EU, is lurching from one near-death experience to the next. In mid-September, more than a quarter million people demonstrated against CETA in Germany. Last Sunday, Francophone Belgians voted against the agreement. That may have been a lethal blow.
But since the agreement had been hailed as a “new generation” trade agreement by the Liberals, it is noticeable that the discussion in Canada has been very muted. That is a risk to future decisions on trade. It is easy to sneer at the EU as a supranational body in shambles, but its failure may have come in a lack of engagement of stakeholders. The same lack could be observed in Canada, but the stakeholders did not revolt to the same extent.
The Canadian government will need to embrace tools to engage stakeholders and Canadians in a discussion and decision about the merits of such free trade agreements if potential failures such as CETA ratification are to be avoided here.
European Criticisms of CETA
Some of the criticisms of free trade in Europe are somewhat simplistic, knee-jerk reactions, even more so as CETA is portrayed as a stepping-stone toward the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP), a similar agreement with the U.S.
But some of the criticisms should be taken more seriously, as they address precisely the “next-generation” aspects of CETA that the Liberal government seems to be pursuing following the Conservative lead.
What makes this a different free trade agreement is that it goes beyond tariffs by addressing non-tariff hurdles and challenges to access. That is public procurement on the one hand, but, perhaps most controversially, protection for foreign investors, the infamous-in-Europe “investor state dispute settlement”. The Liberal government has made very little effort to explain to Canadians why these are desirable elements, a task that European governments have also failed at, apparently.
Most of the responses to criticisms of dispute settlement have been technical in nature. From the original provisions of ad hoc private arbitration boards, CETA in the end envisioned permanent arbitration courts. But European critics ask two more basic questions:
- both, Canada and the EU, have well-institutionalized predictable legal systems, why do foreign investors need to be “protected” by a different mechanism?
- if foreign investors are able to “protect” their investment by suing host governments following (democratically legitimated) regulatory decisions, to what extent does that hamper future regulation?
Lessons for Canada
Again, these criticisms have been muted in Canada, but they probably do resonate and might become more of an issue in other contexts like the Transpacific Partnership (TPP, likely doomed by the U.S. electoral circus), but even more so in considering a free trade agreement with China, for example. They are much less of a challenge in bilateral deals like the pending agreement with Japan that is less comprehensive, perhaps.
So, while CETA died in Europe, future Canadian efforts might include a focus on active involvement of stakeholders in deliberations prior to trade negotiations and to more engagement during and after negotiations. That is not to say that trade agreements should be put to an online vote at all. Nor that elements of negotiations should be disclosed. But instead, direct and digital diplomacy tools should be mobilized to explain the benefits and all elements in trade agreements to Canadians. This is where a digital diplomacy might focus on domestic stakeholders as much as on negotiation partners abroad.
Currently, free trade agreements are largely concluded on behalf of business interests in Canada, under the assumption that they will benefit Canadian consumers and employees. That assumption is being questioned by European critics. If the Liberals are certain that these kind of agreements will bring benefit to individuals Canadians, as many experts also agree, they should involve the interested public more directly in their deliberations. Trade negotiations are at the core of diplomacy, and diplomacy in this day and age should be direct and digital. Yet, CETA deliberations were primarily limited to consultations that the seemingly inexhaustible Minister of International Trade, Chrystia Freeland, has been conducting around the country.
After having started their tenure under the theme of transparency and openness, the Liberals should seek more ways to engage Canadians directly on free trade. This can be done through social media platforms, for example, by going beyond the endless tweeting of photos of Minister Freeland meeting with colleagues around the world. Instead, technologically enabled direct and digital diplomacy should build platforms that allow Canadians (expert or “merely” interested) to contribute to deliberations about policy, rather than comment on decisions that have been taken.
Such platforms do not really exist yet, but the importance of stakeholder engagement in consideration of free trade agreements makes a strong case to use this engagement as an impetus for the development of channels to involve Canadians directly in deliberations.
Instagram in Digital Diplomacy
By Julian Dierkes
As more and more diplomats and foreign ministries have taken to Instagram, I’ve noticed that their use of the platforms seems to differ quite a bit from text-based microblogging platforms like Twitter.
Given the discussion of the presumed “death” of Twitter (the main reason apparently being a levelling off of Tweeps, an odd reason as levelling off what not spell death in many areas), what implications does this different use (if my sense is right) have for direct diplomacy?
Social Media as Funnels to More and Deeper Content
Digital diplomacy efforts should/are several layers deep in content. Each layer can work as a platform for information sharing but also for engagement.
Given the possibility for engagement at each level, the image of a funnel doesn’t work very well for me. But, ultimately, at the bottom of communications about foreign policy is some kind of broad conceptual statement. More specific (geographically or by issue) version of that might then be white papers or lengthier texts of some kind. These in turn can form the basis for blog-post-length writing. And social media can serve as a means to announce and discuss foreign policy. But given the limitations of 140 characters, for example, few would claim that the complexity of foreign policy is captured best through micro-blogging. So, some of the intention of the use of social media channels can include the linking of more complex and longer texts or presentations. This is certainly very common on Twitter.
Read full address given by @MinCanadaFA at #ThinkTankSummit2016 last night: https://t.co/M1L8ptWxiH @CIGIonline pic.twitter.com/Z6YjtyA6Ub
— Foreign Policy CAN (@CanadaFP) September 29, 2016
Digital Diplomats on Instagram
One example of an active foreign ministry on Instagram is the German Auswärtiges Amt. Its presence on Instagram mirrors its presence on Twitter in that it is almost entirely focused on the minister and on announcements, though some creative elements are thrown into the feed occasionally. This is an approach that’s quite different from Global Affairs Canada, at least on Twitter, where many of the missions are also represented on their own, rather than simply a headquarters account.
Another foreign ministry that is active on Instagram is the Israeli ministry. Their feed is more text heavy in that they frequently include images of texts, such as quotes from speeches, etc.
The US Department of State is also somewhat more focused on Sec Kerry.
Instagram Does Not Seem to be a Funnel
By contrast to Facebook, Twitter and even YouTube to some extent, Instagram is not a platform that has embraced links to non-Instagram resources, nor have users adopted linking as a common element in posts. Thus, hashtags are possible and are used extensively (more so than on Facebook, for example), and other users can be mentioned and their userids become clickable.
The only link that is possible as a clickable link appears on a profile page, but it is thus not linked to a specific post.
Of course, there could be workarounds, for example the use of a URL-shortener to generate links that are memorable enough for users to note them to type into a browser. For Global Affairs, for example, that could be a custom shortener, like global.ca that could be used, for others (this kind of blog, for example) some URL shorteners also offer customized URLs that are short and memorable. But, to be clear, that is a workaround not a solution.
Given this lack of interlinking, the apparent ethos of diplomatic instagramming does not emphasize the role of Instagram as a funnel to lead users to deeper resources, or to invite them to comment substantially.
But then, what is the point of an Instagram that doesn’t include any links?
Here, as elsewhere on Instagram, digital diplomacy in practice appears to be entirely limited to an announcement, i.e. Instagram is essentially utilized as a photo-centric broadcast channel. While this may be effective to catch the eye of different kind of audiences, will their interest be sustained by this kind of announcement? I doubt it, as long as this initial interest does not lead to a deeper engagement of some kind.
A similar argument could probably be made about Snapchat. While some diplomatic institutions are setting up shop on Snapchat, this presence also seems to treat social media as a broadcast channel, rather than an engagement tool.
Recent Comments