ashington D.C. is a city that is easily captured by trends and policy fads. Nowhere is this more evident than in the books that seem to seize the attention of the political elite. For China, it was—and somewhat (disappointingly) remains—Graham Allison’s “Thucydides Trap,” which selectively used historical cases of rising and falling powers entering or avoiding conflict to argue how Washington and Beijing navigate contentious relations. These literary fads are useful in that they stimulate conversation and get policymakers thinking, but they fall short when readers seek to go beyond the surface and unpack the details (which are often lost on those elites).
It is rare that a book emerges that one actually hopes will capture the attention of the very elite who would most benefit from reading and internalizing its subject matter. “World on the Brink” by Dmitri Alperovitch (written with Garrett Graff) is that book. It is a rare entry into the growing body of literature on the relationship between the United States and China in that it manages to present existing knowledge in a new light, say something thought–provoking, and meaningfully contribute to the intellectual framework of the subject.
Divided roughly into three sections (but technically two ‘parts’), “World on the Brink” opens with histories of China, Taiwan, and relations with the United States, before turning to assessments of the relative weaknesses of China and the strengths of America in the second part. Alperovitch smartly leverages other, deeply researched works (such as Rush Doshi’s excellent “The Long Game”), but packages them in a novel way—he sensibly includes a history of Taiwan, which is often omitted in other books. The third, and final, section provides one of the most incisive policy discussions on how Washington can leverage its strengths to exploit China’s weaknesses and, in the end, win.
Winning in what Alperovitch sees as Cold War II is predicated first and foremost on understanding America’s adversary in China. Whilst some may dispute his definition of the current dynamic as a second Cold War, he retorts that “One of the most important lessons from Cold War I is that it only matters to some extent whether we recognize we’re in a cold war. China has a voice in this too.” In his assessment, China is clearly on a war–footing of sorts with America, and it is well past time that Washington realizes this to be the case.
Xi’s designs on Taiwan are clearly enumerated, but a central feature—and one which many American policymakers often forget—is how China views America: “It’s easy to discount the insecurity and fear that undergird Xi’s (and the CCP’s) desire for Taiwan, but the geopolitical reality is that America often underestimates the degree to which out adversaries’ actions are driven by fear of our power and potential actions.”
Here he hits on a central issue with American foreign policy: the delta between our assumed knowledge and actual knowledge about our adversaries and intentions, and our concurrent inability to see the world through our adversaries’ perspectives. “Envisioning the path forward for American democracy and Western values requires a clear–eyed assessment that global actors are rational, even if the reasons for their actions are not consistent with Western democracy priorities and views of the world.” Well said.
Alperovitch frames the contemporary challenge not just as a bilateral one between China and America, but one in which Taiwan is central, and is not just about semiconductors—important though those most are. He rather cleverly suggests flipping the map of the Indo–Pacific to put China in the north, to better visualize why Taiwan matters and how it is connected to the other island chains. It is a simple suggestion, but one that is illuminating. Should Taiwan fall by military action or political fiat to Beijing, Alperovitch rightly argues that the entirety of the Indo–Pacific’s security architecture will dramatically realign, and not to America’s interests.
For Alperovitch, China is fundamentally weaker than it appears, though it is no less a threat to Taiwan or American interests in the region. Similar to Hal Brands’ recent book “The Danger Zone,” Alperovitch finds structural weaknesses in China’s demography, environment, and economy. Concurrently, he sees America’s strengths as far more evident than they appear in America’s day–to–day discourse. Poignantly he recounts his own immigrant experience from Russia to the United States as indicative of what makes the country truly great and most competitive.
America’s real competitive advantage lies in its innovation. In two chapters, “Enabling Innovation” and “Defending Innovation,” Alperovitch articulates clear and succinct policy prescriptions that move beyond the de rigueur topics seen in most books on China and competitiveness. Chief among these is securing America’s supply chains for semiconductors, but also critical minerals and rare earth elements. Alperovitch writes, “In one word, this strategy is all about leverage: We must increase our leverage over China and decrease its leverage over us.” Today, China has far too much leverage over these, and other, supply chains because of globalization, conscious policies of the Chinese Communist Party, and Washington’s inattention to this critical issue.
He rightly identifies issues with America’s defense industrial base, not the least of which are its overly lengthy and expensive programs of record. Bitingly he wonders how many targets are worth $56 million—the price of one hypersonic missile—especially in an era of cheap and effective loitering munitions and drones. As America and its European partners are finding, the real challenges are not necessarily high–tech equipment so much as supercharging a just–in–time production system for the needs of high–intensity conventional warfare. As with managing the supply chain, enhancing, and accelerating the defense industrial base are issues for which we already have the tools to improve and enhance—it is a matter of political will and urgency, more than anything else.
It is vital, Alperovitch writes, that we work more closely with our allies. He titles a chapter “Say Yes to Our Friends” which outlines how we can be better allies and partners. It is equally important that we “Say No to Distractions” and recognize the limitations of American power. “This is about making hard choices we haven’t forced ourselves to make over the last generation. America needs to admit it can’t do everything and can’t be everywhere.”
“World on the Brink” is strongest when Alperovitch allows himself to come most clearly through the writing—to steal a phrase from the West Wing, “Let Dmitri be Dmitri.” Listeners of his superlative podcast “Geopolitics Decanted” or those who have heard him speak in–person know he does not suffer poor analysis or faulty assumptions lightly, if at all. He will cut right to the heart of a matter, candidly and frankly, and often in a manner that shakes up what are often staid policy conversations. He is unafraid to speak uncomfortable truths.
This incisiveness is woven throughout “World on the Brink.” For example, when writing on Ukraine, he rightly identifies the successes the United States and its European allies have achieved, “Yet, despite all of these tremendous successes, big and little, our end goals with this conflict remain frustratingly undefined.” Consequently, and perhaps something most within Washington are unwilling to acknowledge, “Our ambiguity means that our definition of victory in this conflict is essentially being left to Ukraine, which itself has issued contradictory statements on its ultimate desired outcome. That’s not a successful recipe for a winning grand strategy.”
Towards the end of the book, he returns to the subject of Russia, highlighting again an uncomfortable truth, one that is out of step with much of the political and policy zeitgeist: “US policymakers should nevertheless appreciate that Russia… is not likely to disappear and that we need a strategy for managing that relationship if for no other reason to reduce tensions between the two largest nuclear states while making it more difficult for China to benefit from Russia’s weakness.”
Reading “World on the Brink,” one is left curiously and conflictingly optimistic. Alperovitch articulates a clear objective—win against China—and aligns America’s strengths and capabilities to achieve victory. Washington has the tools and authorities, in most cases, necessary to leverage its strengths and exploit China’s weaknesses. There are no moonshot Apollo programs needed. Rather it is the smart and judicious application of American power, while avoiding pitfalls, distractions, and overreach. This is by no means easy, but the way in which Alperovitch presents it, it is clear and focused, and quite possibly doable.
That’s the optimistic part.
The conflict comes when one realizes that Alperovitch, arguably quite sensibly, omits the entirety of American politics from the equation. Had Alperovitch dove into the morass that is American politics it would have detracted from the clarity of his message and the focus of his strategy, which is, at its core, wholly apolitical—it is about beating China, not scoring partisan points or addressing narrow interests. Washington is wholly capable of doing the things he outlines, but whether it can or will is an open question. November’s election will almost certainly not end once all the ballots are cast, whatever the outcome. The distractions and disputes that will result will cost time, time Washington can ill–afford to waste. Yet beyond November 2024, the political process and the way Washington is organized militates against effective policy. As Alperovitch penetratingly writes, “After all, if it’s truly a “national strategy,” should it really change so frequently?”
Washington is, at its simplest, a 19th century government confronting a 21st century challenge using 20th century tools. In “World on the Brink” Alperovitch delivers a clear–eyed, modernized strategy for confronting China and winning, one that acknowledges hard truths and, hopefully, will capture the attention of Washington policymakers and shape not just the conversation, but also policy itself.
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Strategic clarity and vision for the contest with China
A stretch of the Great Wall in Jinshanling, China. Photo by Max van den Oetelaar on Unsplash
May 11, 2024
Dmitri Alperovitch’s “World on the Brink” is a rare book on the U.S.–China relationship in that meaningfully contributes to the intellectual framework of the subject while being captivating enough to capture the attention of the elites who would most benefit from the read, writes Joshua Huminski.
W
ashington D.C. is a city that is easily captured by trends and policy fads. Nowhere is this more evident than in the books that seem to seize the attention of the political elite. For China, it was—and somewhat (disappointingly) remains—Graham Allison’s “Thucydides Trap,” which selectively used historical cases of rising and falling powers entering or avoiding conflict to argue how Washington and Beijing navigate contentious relations. These literary fads are useful in that they stimulate conversation and get policymakers thinking, but they fall short when readers seek to go beyond the surface and unpack the details (which are often lost on those elites).
It is rare that a book emerges that one actually hopes will capture the attention of the very elite who would most benefit from reading and internalizing its subject matter. “World on the Brink” by Dmitri Alperovitch (written with Garrett Graff) is that book. It is a rare entry into the growing body of literature on the relationship between the United States and China in that it manages to present existing knowledge in a new light, say something thought–provoking, and meaningfully contribute to the intellectual framework of the subject.
Divided roughly into three sections (but technically two ‘parts’), “World on the Brink” opens with histories of China, Taiwan, and relations with the United States, before turning to assessments of the relative weaknesses of China and the strengths of America in the second part. Alperovitch smartly leverages other, deeply researched works (such as Rush Doshi’s excellent “The Long Game”), but packages them in a novel way—he sensibly includes a history of Taiwan, which is often omitted in other books. The third, and final, section provides one of the most incisive policy discussions on how Washington can leverage its strengths to exploit China’s weaknesses and, in the end, win.
Winning in what Alperovitch sees as Cold War II is predicated first and foremost on understanding America’s adversary in China. Whilst some may dispute his definition of the current dynamic as a second Cold War, he retorts that “One of the most important lessons from Cold War I is that it only matters to some extent whether we recognize we’re in a cold war. China has a voice in this too.” In his assessment, China is clearly on a war–footing of sorts with America, and it is well past time that Washington realizes this to be the case.
Xi’s designs on Taiwan are clearly enumerated, but a central feature—and one which many American policymakers often forget—is how China views America: “It’s easy to discount the insecurity and fear that undergird Xi’s (and the CCP’s) desire for Taiwan, but the geopolitical reality is that America often underestimates the degree to which out adversaries’ actions are driven by fear of our power and potential actions.”
Here he hits on a central issue with American foreign policy: the delta between our assumed knowledge and actual knowledge about our adversaries and intentions, and our concurrent inability to see the world through our adversaries’ perspectives. “Envisioning the path forward for American democracy and Western values requires a clear–eyed assessment that global actors are rational, even if the reasons for their actions are not consistent with Western democracy priorities and views of the world.” Well said.
Alperovitch frames the contemporary challenge not just as a bilateral one between China and America, but one in which Taiwan is central, and is not just about semiconductors—important though those most are. He rather cleverly suggests flipping the map of the Indo–Pacific to put China in the north, to better visualize why Taiwan matters and how it is connected to the other island chains. It is a simple suggestion, but one that is illuminating. Should Taiwan fall by military action or political fiat to Beijing, Alperovitch rightly argues that the entirety of the Indo–Pacific’s security architecture will dramatically realign, and not to America’s interests.
For Alperovitch, China is fundamentally weaker than it appears, though it is no less a threat to Taiwan or American interests in the region. Similar to Hal Brands’ recent book “The Danger Zone,” Alperovitch finds structural weaknesses in China’s demography, environment, and economy. Concurrently, he sees America’s strengths as far more evident than they appear in America’s day–to–day discourse. Poignantly he recounts his own immigrant experience from Russia to the United States as indicative of what makes the country truly great and most competitive.
America’s real competitive advantage lies in its innovation. In two chapters, “Enabling Innovation” and “Defending Innovation,” Alperovitch articulates clear and succinct policy prescriptions that move beyond the de rigueur topics seen in most books on China and competitiveness. Chief among these is securing America’s supply chains for semiconductors, but also critical minerals and rare earth elements. Alperovitch writes, “In one word, this strategy is all about leverage: We must increase our leverage over China and decrease its leverage over us.” Today, China has far too much leverage over these, and other, supply chains because of globalization, conscious policies of the Chinese Communist Party, and Washington’s inattention to this critical issue.
He rightly identifies issues with America’s defense industrial base, not the least of which are its overly lengthy and expensive programs of record. Bitingly he wonders how many targets are worth $56 million—the price of one hypersonic missile—especially in an era of cheap and effective loitering munitions and drones. As America and its European partners are finding, the real challenges are not necessarily high–tech equipment so much as supercharging a just–in–time production system for the needs of high–intensity conventional warfare. As with managing the supply chain, enhancing, and accelerating the defense industrial base are issues for which we already have the tools to improve and enhance—it is a matter of political will and urgency, more than anything else.
It is vital, Alperovitch writes, that we work more closely with our allies. He titles a chapter “Say Yes to Our Friends” which outlines how we can be better allies and partners. It is equally important that we “Say No to Distractions” and recognize the limitations of American power. “This is about making hard choices we haven’t forced ourselves to make over the last generation. America needs to admit it can’t do everything and can’t be everywhere.”
“World on the Brink” is strongest when Alperovitch allows himself to come most clearly through the writing—to steal a phrase from the West Wing, “Let Dmitri be Dmitri.” Listeners of his superlative podcast “Geopolitics Decanted” or those who have heard him speak in–person know he does not suffer poor analysis or faulty assumptions lightly, if at all. He will cut right to the heart of a matter, candidly and frankly, and often in a manner that shakes up what are often staid policy conversations. He is unafraid to speak uncomfortable truths.
This incisiveness is woven throughout “World on the Brink.” For example, when writing on Ukraine, he rightly identifies the successes the United States and its European allies have achieved, “Yet, despite all of these tremendous successes, big and little, our end goals with this conflict remain frustratingly undefined.” Consequently, and perhaps something most within Washington are unwilling to acknowledge, “Our ambiguity means that our definition of victory in this conflict is essentially being left to Ukraine, which itself has issued contradictory statements on its ultimate desired outcome. That’s not a successful recipe for a winning grand strategy.”
Towards the end of the book, he returns to the subject of Russia, highlighting again an uncomfortable truth, one that is out of step with much of the political and policy zeitgeist: “US policymakers should nevertheless appreciate that Russia… is not likely to disappear and that we need a strategy for managing that relationship if for no other reason to reduce tensions between the two largest nuclear states while making it more difficult for China to benefit from Russia’s weakness.”
Reading “World on the Brink,” one is left curiously and conflictingly optimistic. Alperovitch articulates a clear objective—win against China—and aligns America’s strengths and capabilities to achieve victory. Washington has the tools and authorities, in most cases, necessary to leverage its strengths and exploit China’s weaknesses. There are no moonshot Apollo programs needed. Rather it is the smart and judicious application of American power, while avoiding pitfalls, distractions, and overreach. This is by no means easy, but the way in which Alperovitch presents it, it is clear and focused, and quite possibly doable.
That’s the optimistic part.
The conflict comes when one realizes that Alperovitch, arguably quite sensibly, omits the entirety of American politics from the equation. Had Alperovitch dove into the morass that is American politics it would have detracted from the clarity of his message and the focus of his strategy, which is, at its core, wholly apolitical—it is about beating China, not scoring partisan points or addressing narrow interests. Washington is wholly capable of doing the things he outlines, but whether it can or will is an open question. November’s election will almost certainly not end once all the ballots are cast, whatever the outcome. The distractions and disputes that will result will cost time, time Washington can ill–afford to waste. Yet beyond November 2024, the political process and the way Washington is organized militates against effective policy. As Alperovitch penetratingly writes, “After all, if it’s truly a “national strategy,” should it really change so frequently?”
Washington is, at its simplest, a 19th century government confronting a 21st century challenge using 20th century tools. In “World on the Brink” Alperovitch delivers a clear–eyed, modernized strategy for confronting China and winning, one that acknowledges hard truths and, hopefully, will capture the attention of Washington policymakers and shape not just the conversation, but also policy itself.
