Saudi Arabians woke up over the weekend to a once-in-a-decade cabinet reshuffle. Octogenarian oil minister Ali al-Naimi, who has been in charge of the Kingdom’s energy policy since 1995, was replaced by Khaled al-Falih, who is to head the newly created Energy, Industry, and Natural Resources Ministry. Majed al-Qusaibi was named head of the newly created Commerce and Investment Ministry. Finally, Ahmed al-Kholifey was made governor of the Saudi Arabia’s Central Bank (SAMA). It may come as a surprise to many Saudis that the origin of this reshuffle—and indeed the Kingdom’s new economic direction—finds its impetus in a report by the global management consulting firm McKinsey & Company.

A man with a plan

Saudi Arabia has been struggling to deal with the impact of lower oil prices. After years of recording budget surpluses, the government has seen its budgetary deficit grow to 15 percent of GDP. Lower oil prices—coupled with tensions with regional rival Iran over Yemen, Syria, and Lebanon—have put the Kingdom’s finances under pressure. Since oil prices began to plummet, Saudi Arabia’s ever-ambitious Deputy Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has been spearheading an ambitious reform initiative that seeks to diversify the Kingdom’s economy away from oil. 

Dubbed “Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030,” the prince says that the new economic blueprint will increase the role of the private sector from 40 percent to 60 percent, reduce unemployment from 11 percent to 7.6 percent, and grow non-oil income exponentially. This is to be financed by the partial privatization of the Kingdom’s oil behemoth, Aramco. 

The 2030 document outlines a number of significant reforms that seek to change not only the Saudi economy, but state-society relations more broadly, in a way that has been done since the Kingdom’s founding.

The 2030 document outlines a number of significant reforms that seek to change not only the Saudi economy, but state-society relations more broadly, in a way that hasn't been done since the Kingdom’s founding. The prince’s vision seems to have been inspired by a report issued by the McKinsey Global Institute in December 2015 titled “Moving Saudi Arabia’s Economy Beyond Oil.” The vision and the report have similar policy prescriptions for diversifying the Kingdom’s economy away from oil. 

Such similarities highlight the influence of consultancies on policymaking in the Kingdom. Indeed, Bloomberg news reported that consultancies are set to earn 12 percent more in commissions in Saudi Arabia this year, the fastest growth amongst the world’s advisory markets. In a wide-ranging interview with The Economist in January, Prince Mohammed himself said that “McKinsey participates with us in many studies.” According to the Financial Times, Saudi businessmen have sarcastically dubbed the Ministry of Planning as the “McKinsey Ministry.”

McKinsey’s key report, full with glossy illustrations, contains consultant buzzwords (“transformation,” “efficiency,” and “synergies”) that would make Marty Kaan in Showtimes’s House of Lies proud. It’s by no means novel for consultants to advise governments in the region and across the world, and indeed the report does outline an ambitious blueprint for the Kingdom’s economic transformation and diversification away from oil. 

Will the public buy it?

But in a glaring omission, the report does not adequately explain how the Saudi government will be able to change the mindset of everyday Saudi Arabia citizens, who have long been accustomed to state largesse that included fuel subsidies, loans, free land, and public sector jobs. 

This is the key issue. The reform plans sound promising, and will indeed make headway in weaning the Kingdom off its oil “addiction” (as the prince himself put it). But how will everyday citizens react to the reforms? The Saudi government will be asking more of its citizens—will the citizens in turn ask for more accountability and representation? Since January, the prices of gasoline, electricity, and water have gone up. There was a public outcry against higher utility prices, which lead King Salman to fire the water minister to absorb the public’s anger. 

Such discontent is the harbinger of things to come. The coming months and years will show how Saudi leadership implements much needed economic reforms without alienating its population. While the outcome is uncertain, one thing is: consultants will continue to flock to Saudi Arabia to work on the “mother of all transformation projects.”

Editors' Note: This post was corrected on May 12, 2016 to clarify that the report “Moving Saudi Arabia’s Economy Beyond Oil” was issued by the McKinsey Global Institute, the research arm of McKinsey & Company. MGI’s work is independent and wholly funded by McKinsey Partners. The MGI report was not commissioned by the government of Saudi Arabia and has no formal role in government decision-making.

On Tuesday, May 24, Nigerian Central Bank Governor Godwin Emefiele announced that the country will adopt a more flexible foreign exchange rate system in the near future. This move signals a major policy shift by Emefiele and President Muhammadu Buhari, who had until this point opposed calls to let the naira weaken. Many international oil-related currencies have depreciated against the dollar as oil prices began their decline in 2014. Nigeria, however, has held the naira at a peg of 197-199 per U.S. dollar since March 2015, depleting foreign reserves and deterring investors, who remain concerned about the repercussions of a potential naira devaluation. Following the announcement, Nigerian stocks jumped to a five-month high and bond prices rose in anticipation that a new flexible exchange rate regime would increase the supply of dollars and help attract foreign investors.

For now it remains unclear exactly what a more flexible system will entail for Nigeria, however, some experts suggest that the Central Bank may introduce a dual-rate system, which allows select importers in strategic industries to access foreign currency at the current fixed rate, while more generally foreign currency will be available at a weaker, market-related level. This new regime raises a number of questions, including how it will be governed and who will have access to foreign currency (and at what rate). On Wednesday, Nigeria’s parliament requested a briefing soon from Emefiele and Finance Minister Kemi Adeosun to provide additional clarity on the new system, although the date for such a meeting has not yet been set.

Earlier this month, Kenya announced plans to close the Dadaab refugee camp, located in northeast Kenya, amid security concerns. The move to close the camp has been widely criticized by international actors. United States State Department Press Relations Director Elizabeth Trudeau urged Kenya to “uphold its international obligations and not forcibly repatriate refugees.” The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees stated that the closure of the refugee camp would have “devastating consequences.” Despite these concerns, this week, at the World Humanitarian Summit, Kenya stated that it will not go back on its decision and confirmed the closure of the refugee camps within a six-month period.

The camp houses 330,000 refugees, a majority of whom fled from conflict in their home country of Somalia. Kenya insists that the camp poses a threat to its national security, as it believes the camp is used to host and train extremists from Somalia’s Islamist group al-Shabab. Kenya also argued that the developed world, notably the United Kingdom, should host its fair share of African refugees. This is not the first time Kenya has threatened to close the refugee camp. After the Garissa University attacks last April, Kenya voiced its decision to close the refugee camps, although it did not follow through with the plan.

From May 23-27, Lusaka, Zambia hosted 5,000 delegates and participants for the 2016 Annual Meetings of the African Development Bank (AfDB), with the theme, “Energy and Climate Change.” Held in the wake of December’s COP21 climate agreement and in line with Sustainable Development Goals 7 (ensure access to affordable, reliable, sustainable and modern energy for all) and 13 (take urgent action to combat climate change and its impacts), the theme was timely and, as many speakers emphasized, urgent. Around 645 million people in Africa have no access to electricity, and only 16 percent are connected to an energy source. To that end, AfDB President Akinwumi Adesina outlined the bank’s ambitious aim: “Our goal is clear: universal access to energy for Africa within 10 years; Expand grid power by 160 gigawatts; Connect 130 million persons to grid power; Connect 75 million persons to off grid systems; And provide access to 150 million households to clean cooking energy."

As part of a push to transform Africa’s energy needs and uses, Rwandan President Paul Kagame joined Kenyan President Uhuru Kenyatta on a panel to support the AfDB’s “New Deal on Energy” that aims to deliver electricity to all Africans by 2025. Kenyatta specifically touted the potential of geothermal energy sources. Now, 40 percent of Kenya's power needs come from geothermal energy sources, he said, but there is still room for improvement—private businesses, which make up 30 percent of Kenya’s on-grid energy needs, have not made the switch yet.

As part of the meetings, the AfDB, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), and United Nations Development Program (UNDP) also launched their annual African Economic Outlook, with the theme “Sustainable Cities and Structural Transformation.” In general, the report’s authors predict that the continent will maintain an average growth of 3.7 percent in 2016 before increasing to 4.5 percent in 2017, assuming commodity prices recover and the global economy improves.  However, the focus was on this year’s theme: urbanization. The authors provide an overview of urbanization trends and highlight that successful urban planning can discourage pollution and waste, slow climate change, support better social safety nets, enhance service delivery, and attract investment, among other benefits.

For more on urbanization in sub-Saharan Africa, see Chapter 4 of Foresight Africa 2016: Capitalizing on Urbanization: The Importance of Planning, Infrastructure, and Finance for Africa’s Growing Cities.

This election cycle, what will separate Democrats from Republicans on energy policy and their approach to climate change? Republicans tend to be fairly strong supporters of the fossil fuel industry, and to various degrees deny that climate change is occurring. Democratic candidates emphasize the importance of further expanding the share of renewable energy at the expense of fossil fuels, and agree that climate change is a real problem—with some saying the challenge trumps most, if not all, other U.S. security concerns.

Now that there are presumptive nominees for both major political parties, it’s an important moment to outline, in broad strokes, the positions of Secretary Hillary Clinton and businessman Donald Trump. We realize that Democratic Presidential candidate Bernie Sanders has not dropped out of the race, but note that it is fairly unlikely at this point that he would clinch the nomination.

Clinton: Building on the Obama legacy 

Secretary Clinton has laid out the most comprehensive and detailed energy and climate policy proposals of the candidates to date. They are in essence a continuation, and in some cases a further expansion, of existing White House policies under President Obama. The Secretary has stated that she wants the United States to be the “clean energy superpower of the 21st century.”

This starts with the notion that climate change is an existential threat, which the global community has to address as soon as possible. In order to do that, in her view, the United States needs to continue to show leadership on the international stage, as the Obama administration sought to do surrounding the Paris agreement in December 2015. This will require substantial reforms to expand low-carbon options, including nuclear energy to some degree, while tightly regulating fossil fuels (and gradually phasing them out). 

[S]he wants the United States to be the “clean energy superpower of the 21st century.”

The first casualty of this transformation is the coal industry, which Clinton has explicitly acknowledged. She presented a $30 billion plan to revitalize communities where coal production is currently an important industry and job creator, for example, and has campaigned with this message in various state primaries. Implicitly, Secretary Clinton does not seem to believe in the economic viability of carbon capture and sequestration in the United States—this is despite the fact that most analyses, including those of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), suggest that this technology could be a cost-efficient tool in a wider carbon emission mitigation portfolio. 

Clinton sees natural gas as a bridge fuel, though at this point it’s not clear how long that bridge is. Questions remain about the role that natural gas can play in scenarios of deep decarbonization in 2030 and beyond. At the moment, the gas industry is rather nervous of the Secretary’s statement that she’d increase regulations on, in particular, the fracking industry—if her conditions came to fruition, there would very few places where fracking would continue. 

Secretary Clinton believes that oil consumption has to be cut substantially in the coming years, and she has suggested that new drilling in places like the Arctic, off the Atlantic Coast, and on federal lands would be discouraged or banned. She has previously opposed crude oil exports, though we would not anticipate a roll-back of existing policies (in December 2015, the Obama administration lifted the decades-old ban). 

Clinton foresees a new energy economy built on rapidly increasing shares of renewable energy, which should comprise 25 percent of the U.S. fuel mix by 2025 according to her plan (solar energy would be a key focus, with half a billion panels to be installed by the end of her first term). To facilitate this transition, she presented an elaborate energy infrastructure plan to modernize the U.S. grid and improve efficiency in reviewing and approving projects. 

Tax credits to support renewables would be continued under a Clinton White House, whereas fossil fuel subsidies would be phased out. Increased energy efficiency, including harmonization of vehicle efficiency and fuel standards, are high on her agenda as well. The Secretary also supports the Clean Power Plan that the Environmental Protection Agency under the Obama administration has launched, and which is currently on hold in the Supreme Court. 

On the international stage, Clinton supports the Paris agreement on climate change. Should she win the presidency in November, she would make an effort to take this Treaty to the next step, thus continuing U.S. leadership. That would mean reinforcing U.S. leadership along the lines described above, while helping address current uncertainties about finance, transparency, and accountability, to name only a few challenges that remain.

Trump: Drill, baby, drill

Although Donald Trump’s candidacy remains highly controversial, he is now the presumptive Republican nominee for president. To the extent that we know any detailed plans, quod non, it is safe to say that his views on energy and climate change are diametrically opposed to most of Clinton’s. Broadly speaking, Mr. Trump has come out as a fervent supporter of the fossil fuel industry, and has expressed skepticism about the economic viability of renewable energy.

Mr. Trump’s views start with the belief that climate change is not man-made. In the past, the controversial businessman has suggested that climate change might be a hoax invention from China, in order to undermine U.S. industrial interests and job creation. This starting point allows Mr. Trump to be extremely supportive of existing industrial interests (if carbon and other greenhouse gas emissions are not a problem, the thinking goes, then business as usual is the way to go). 

In a speech in North Dakota in late May, Mr. Trump laid out some broad initial ideas for his energy policy. He declared that under his presidency the United States would “accomplish complete American energy independence,” leaving unaddressed arguments about what that would mean for existing international energy trade. 

It is probably safe to say that Mr. Trump would like to further expand oil, gas, and coal production in the country. The latter, in particular, is remarkable: even coal executives have declared that market forces (particularly very competitive natural gas) have been the primary threat to the coal industry. Since Mr. Trump is also a strong supporter of the natural gas industry—and considering the challenges of building new bulk terminals for exports—it is unclear how a revitalization of the coal industry would occur. 

If climate change is a hoax, it will come as no surprise that Mr. Trump will not support efforts to mitigate carbon and other greenhouse gas emissions.

Contrary to his opponent, Mr. Trump would also like to revoke restrictions on drilling for oil and gas, and would permit production on federal lands. He also supports further expansion of energy infrastructure, and would, if elected, ask Trans Canada to resubmit a permit application for the Keystone pipeline, which he’d approve. He has caveated his support for projects like these by demanding that a portion of the revenues from oil and gas flows be redistributed to local communities, to compensate them for intrusion on their private property. Mr. Trump has also indicated that he wants to use revenues from oil and gas production to rebuild U.S. infrastructure more broadly.

If climate change is a hoax, it will come as no surprise that Mr. Trump will not support efforts to mitigate carbon and other greenhouse gas emissions. The candidate has called the Obama administration’s Clean Power Plan “stupid,” and when asked what he would do about the Paris agreement on climate change, he said he’d cancel it. 

Though Trump says the United States must pursue all forms of energy—including renewables—he has expressed skepticism about their economic viability, calling solar energy “very expensive.” Wind energy received similar pejorative feedback, since Trump says it kills eagles and is noisy. During one of the few debates about renewable energy during the Iowa primary, he voiced his support for blending biofuels in vehicles. 

To the polls

The 2016 U.S. presidential election will have a profound impact on global affairs. Not only will it affect a range of security and economic issues in important ways, it also means a lot for global energy and climate policy. Will the United States continue on the trajectory that President Obama has started and continue a major energy transition strategy? Or will it shift course, potentially undermining existing domestic policies and investments, as well as international obligations? In November 2016, the American people will decide.

Saudi deputy crown prince and defense minister Mohammad bin Salman is just wrapping up a heavily hyped visit to Washington, aimed at reinforcing the kingdom’s partnership with the United States. Recent years have frayed what is traditionally the central strategic relationship for Riyadh, principally over the Obama administration’s nuclear diplomacy with Iran.

Since the conclusion of the Iranian nuclear deal last July, the perennial antagonism between Riyadh and Tehran has reached a dangerous pitch, fueling the violence that rages in Syria, Iraq, and Yemen and the undercurrent of instability that saturates the region. And the fallout of their rivalry has left its mark well beyond the boundaries of the Gulf, exacerbating volatile energy markets and, by extension, the global economy. 

Within OPEC, Riyadh and Tehran are eyeing each other warily, and their continuing differences torpedoed a proposed ceiling on oil production at OPEC’s latest meeting. The outcome was not surprising; a similar effort to agree on a production freeze between the group and a handful of non-OPEC producers fizzled in April. In the meantime, any incentives for drastic measures to address soft oil prices have abated as oil prices creep back up to approximately $50 a barrel. 

Iran and Saudi Arabia have plenty of reasons to continue pumping for the foreseeable future. Since the lifting of nuclear-related sanctions in January, Iranian leaders have been determined to make up for lost time and lost revenues, already defying expectations by quickly raising production to levels that hadn’t been reached since November 2011 and aggressively cutting prices in hopes of winning back its pre-sanctions export market. 

The centrality of oil to the legitimacy and autonomy of both regimes means that these plans are little more than publicity stunts.

Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia appears prepared to continue pumping at record-high levels, part of a larger strategy aimed at maintaining market share and driving down non-OPEC production. The two states’ economic incentives are compounded by their fierce geostrategic and sectarian rivalry, which has intensified, as evidenced by the standoff over Iranian participation in the annual pilgrimage to Mecca.

But even as the two states duel over oil production and prices, both Saudi Arabia and Iran are conspicuously planning for a post-oil future. Leaders in both countries have decreed an end to the era of oil dependency, endorsing ambitious blueprints for restructuring their economies that—if implemented—would ultimately transform state, society, and the wider region. The centrality of oil to the legitimacy and autonomy of both regimes means that these plans are little more than publicity stunts. Still, just imagine for a moment what it would mean for Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the Middle East if these grandiose agendas were adopted.

Competing and complementary visions

Tehran’s plan actually dates back more than a decade, with the 2005 release of its “20 Year Perspective” (sometimes called “Vision 2025”). The plan laid out extravagant expectations: rapid growth and job creation, diversification away from oil, a knowledge-based economy. Intervening developments—sanctions that targeted Iran’s oil exports and helped expand non-oil trade—have only bolstered the rhetorical commitment of Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, to a “resistance economy” in which oil exports constitute a minor part.

“One of our most serious losses is dependence on oil,” Khamenei bemoaned in a 2014 speech. “I am not saying that oil should not be used. Rather, I am saying that we should reduce our dependence on selling crude oil as much as we can.” 

Not to be outdone, Saudi Deputy Crown Prince Salman announced Saudi “Vision 2030,” to address what he described as “an addiction to oil.” The plan, which has met with equal doses of fanfare and skepticism since its announcement last month, aims to create a “thriving economy” and end Saudi dependence on oil revenues by 2020. Vision 2030 includes provisions to sell off a small stake in the kingdom’s state oil company, Saudi Aramco, and create the world’s largest sovereign wealth fund to manage the country’s income, as well as goals of creating 450,000 new private sector jobs, cutting public sector wages, and tripling the country’s non-oil exports all within the same abbreviated time frame.

Jeopardizing domestic stability

There is one hitch, however: these aspirations, though laudable, are preposterously unmoored from current political and economic exigencies. The institutions of governance and the structure of power in resource-rich states such as Saudi Arabia and Iran are organized around the state’s role as purveyors of vital social and economic goods. Riyadh and Tehran distribute cash handouts, provide jobs in already-bloated state bureaucracies, and levy few taxes. Diversifying away from reliance on oil would essentially require Riyadh and Tehran to radically curtail this distributive role, inviting historic social and political changes that could ultimately compromise regime ideology and weaken state legitimacy. 

[T]hese aspirations, though laudable, are preposterously unmoored from current political and economic exigencies.

In Saudi Arabia, the supply of these benefits is central to the monarchy’s legitimacy. To diversify away from oil, which currently accounts for over 70 percent of government revenues, Riyadh would have to drastically cut spending, far more than it already has. Not only would this further slash subsidies and hike fees, it would also effectively force Saudi workers—two-thirds of whom are employed by the state—to take up private sector jobs, 80 percent of which are currently staffed by expatriates. To accomplish this transition would require fundamental changes to the incentive structure for the Saudi labor force: a much broader willingness to accept low-skill, low-wage jobs, as well as the requisite improvements in education and productivity to support larger numbers of Saudi nationals moving into private sector positions.

For the Saudi economy to be truly competitive, Riyadh would have to initiate dramatic changes to a central component of the Saudi social compact—women’s rights and freedoms. The Vision 2030 document boasts that over 50 percent of Saudi university graduates are women and pledges to “continue to develop their talents, invest in their productive capabilities and enable them to strengthen their future and contribute to the development of our society and economy.” 

But the domestic Saudi labor force is overwhelmingly male, and even the plan’s modest aspirations to raise female participation in the workforce from 22 to 30 percent are likely to run into logistical and social obstacles. Shortly after announcing Vision 2030, Deputy Crown Prince Salman said Saudi Arabia is not yet ready to let women drive. A diversified economy will not emerge in the kind of constricted social environment mandated by the Saudi interpretation of sharia (Islamic law). 

Iran’s Islamic Republic doesn’t have the same degree of gender segregation, but Iran’s official interpretation of Islam has still constrained female participation in the workforce. Iran employs an equally low percentage of women—according to a 2014 U.N. report around 16 percent—and women’s unemployment is more than double that of men (nearly 20 percent).

A Saudi man walks past the logo of Vision 2030 after a news conference in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia June 7, 2016. Photo credit: Reuters/Faisal Al Nasser.

The bigger challenge for Iran will be truly opening up its economy to foreign direct investment. This remains hotly contested among the leadership, even in the aftermath of the nuclear agreement and the lifting of related sanctions. While there is some consensus around the need for foreign capital and technology, hardliners including Khamenei are determined to insulate Iran from any accompanying cultural influence and dependency. As the supreme leader recently inveighed, the global economy is “a plan and system that has been devised mainly by Zionist capitalists and some non-Zionists with the purpose of usurping the economic resources of the whole world...If a country merges its economy with the global economy, this is not a source of pride, rather it is a loss and a defeat!”

This deeply-rooted paranoia has provided a convenient platform for the Islamic Republic to galvanize citizens’ loyalty to the state and hostility to outside interference. And it also inhibits the liberalization that makes foreign investment possible: measures to enhance transparency and security, develop more attractive legal and fiscal frameworks, shrink the role of the state, and undertake an array of other structural reforms. Without these measures, Tehran will struggle to capitalize on its extraordinary reengagement with the world. 

While Saudi Arabia has maintained a more consistent and mutually beneficial pattern of foreign investment, its leadership too will have to revamp its approach if it is to broaden its economic base. For Riyadh, the challenge is less one of attracting foreign capital than of developing a sustainable influx of technology and expertise to develop sectors other than energy. The kingdom will also have to overcome serious regulatory hurdles and a proclivity for mammoth (and often white elephant) projects.

Compromising regional clout

Riyadh and Tehran will need to balance their economic aspirations and their approach to the region, too. Historically, their role in global energy markets has largely shielded both states from the fallout of regional instability. The world’s need for reliable oil at reasonable prices has inculcated the commitment of outside powers to secure transportation of resources and considerable autonomy for Riyadh and Tehran from the implications of their own policies. 

As a result, Saudi Arabia and Iran can fund nefarious activity across the region, violate the civil and human rights of their citizens and other residents, and carry out belligerent foreign policies without severe repercussions for their oil revenues. Only in the past five years has Tehran seen the limits of the world’s reluctance to jeopardize its investment with a major oil exporter; and the recent reversal of the U.N. condemnation regarding the Saudi-led coalition in Yemen demonstrates that Riyadh remains insulated.

Saudi Arabia and Iran can fund nefarious activity across the region, violate the civil and human rights of their citizens and other residents, and carry out belligerent foreign policies without severe repercussions for their oil revenues.

Regional developments make the prospect of economic diversification even less likely, as sensitivity to such developments will only increase if either country successfully develops its non-oil sectors. At the same time, regional stability is a basic prerequisite for economic diversification. Robust growth and good governance throughout the Middle East would provide the optimal context for the economic transformation of Iran and Saudi Arabia, since the marketplace for their non-oil exports is concentrated in the immediate neighborhood. But such transformation would require both countries to put economic priorities that serve their general populations above the ideological and religious agendas—supported by oil rents—that propel their regional and international influence and that provide a large portion of their autonomy in foreign policymaking. 

Technocrats in both countries understand this intuitively. At a 2015 conference on Iran’s economy, President Hassan Rouhani wondered “How long can the economy pay subsidies to politics?” He added that the country’s economy “pays subsidies both to foreign policy and domestic policy. Let us try the other way round for a decade and pay subsidies from the domestic and foreign policy to the economy to see [what] the lives and incomes of people and the employment of the youth will be like.” The problem, of course, is political will: neither country is prepared to elevate the interests of its people over the demands of ideology.

Imagining an unlikely future

Can either Iran or Saudi Arabia really kick the oil habit? It seems exceptionally unlikely. Even as Khamenei extols the need for inward-focused development, Tehran is racing to expand crude output level to four million barrels per day by March 2017. 

Oil enabled the creation of the modern Middle Eastern state and fueled the rise of both countries to regional predominance. Oil is a vector for their regional rivalry, and it provides prestige and funds to be used in other arenas of competition. A genuine diversification of the two largest economies in the Middle East and North Africa would jeopardize their revenue streams and domestic legitimacy, as well as their efforts to assert their primacy across the Islamic world.

[N]either country is prepared to elevate the interests of its people over the demands of ideology.

“All success stories start with a vision,” Deputy Crown Prince Salman is quoted as saying on the Vision 2030 website. But vision is insufficient to bridge the gap between aspiration and reality; a serious agenda to implement either the Saudi or the Iranian vision would require painful compromises to regime ideology and a fundamental overhaul of the institutions and the structure of power in both countries. 

Imagine, though, for a moment, that these far-fetched ambitions were quite serious, and that both the Saudi and Iranian leadership were determined to do what was necessary to truly wean their economies off oil dependence. Consider what it might mean for the region if these grandiose ambitions were not simply the illusions of overpriced consultants and embattled technocrats—if a leadership emerged in one or both of the Middle East’s most powerful actors prepared to invest political capital in a genuine transformation of priorities and policies. What might be possible if Tehran and Riyadh sought to compete for economic opportunities instead of fueling violence and sectarianism around the region? If instead of a vicious sectarian and geopolitical rivalry, these two old adversaries engaged in a race to the top?

What will it take to move these visions from wishful thinking to reality? More than rhetoric, to be sure. But even the articulation of improbable objectives will have its impact. As documented in a recent book, Iran’s post-revolutionary experience demonstrates that the regime’s reliance on promises of economic gains has generated public expectations for effective and accountable governance. Now Iranians and Saudis have been told by their leaders—who happen to be officially infallible—that the time has come to transcend oil. What might happen if they believe it?

Renewable energy is an important source to tackle against climate change, as the latest IPCC report has pointed out. However, due to the existence of multiple market failures such as negative externalities of fossil fuels and knowledge spillovers of new technology, government subsidies are still needed to develop renewable energy, such as solar photovoltaic (PV) cells. In the United States, there have been various forms of subsidies for PV, varying from the federal level to the state level, and from the city level to the utility level. California, as the pioneer of solar PV development, has put forward the biggest state-level subsidy program for PV, the California Solar Initiative (CSI). The CSI has planned to spend around $2.2 Billion in 2007–2016 to install roughly 2 GW PV capacity, with the average subsidy level as high as $1.1/W. How to evaluate the cost-effectiveness and incentive pass-through of this program are the two major research questions we are pursing.

Our cost-effectiveness analysis is based on a constrained optimization model that we developed, where the objective is to install as much PV capacity as possible under a fixed budget constraint. Both the analytical and computational results suggest that due to a strong peer effect and the learning-by-doing effect, one can shift subsides from later periods to early periods so that the final PV installed capacity can be increased by 8.1% (or 32 MW). However, if the decision-maker has other policy objectives or constraints in mind, such as maintaining the policy certainty, then, the optimally calculated subsidy policy would look like the CSI.

As to the incentive pass-through question, we took a structural approach and in addition used the method of regression discontinuity (RD). While in general, the incentive pass-through rate depends on the curvature of the demand and supply curve and the level of market competition, our two estimations indicate that the incentive pass-through for the CSI program is almost complete. In other words, almost all of the incentive has been enjoyed by the customer, and the PV installers did not retain much. Based on the RD design, we observe that PV installers tend to consider the CSI incentive as exogenous to their pricing decision.

The relative good performance of the CSI in terms of both the cost-effectiveness and the incentive pass-through aspect are tightly related to its policy design and program management. International speaking, the biggest challenge for the design of any PV subsidy program is the quick running out of the budget, and in the end, it looks like customers are rushing for the subsidy. Such rushing behavior is a clear indication of higher-than-needed incentive levels. Due to the policy rigidity and rapid PV technological change, the PV subsidy policy may lag behind the PV cost decline; and as a result, rational customers could rush for any unnecessarily high subsidy.

Due to the high uncertainty and unpredictability of future PV costs, the CSI put forward a new design that links the incentive level change and the installed capacity goal fulfillment. Specifically, the CSI has designed nine steps to achieve its policy goal; at each step, there is a PV capacity goal that corresponds to an incentive level. Once the capacity goal is finished, the incentive level will decrease to the next lower level. Furthermore, to maintain the policy certainty, the CSI regulated that every step-wise change in the incentive level should not be higher than $0.45/W, nor smaller than $0.05/W, together with other three constraints.

A good subsidy policy not only requires flexible policy design to respond to fast-changing environment, but also demands an efficient program management system, digitalized if possible. For the CSI, the authority has contracted out a third-party to maintain a good database system for the program. Specifically, the database has documented in detail every PV system that customers requested. Key data fields include 22 important dates during the PV installation process, customers’ zip code, city, utility and county information, and various characteristics of the PV system such as price, system size, incentive, PV module and installer. All information is publicly available, which to some extent fills in the information gap held by customers and fosters the market competition among PV installers. For customers to receive the incentive, their PV systems have to pass the inspection of the local government, and also to be interconnected to the grid. On the supply side, the CSI has also certified and created a list of PV installers that every customer can choose from.

Although the CSI has ended in 2014 due to fast PV cost reduction starting from 2009, its experience has been transferred to other areas in the United States and in Europe. It is highly possible that other similar new technologies and products (e.g. the electric car and the battery) can adopt the CSI policy design, too. In summary, a good and successful policy may need to be simply, clear, credible, foreseeable, flexible, end-able, and incentive-compatible. The PV subsidy policy in China still has a long way to go when compared to the CSI.

The increasing diversification of news media—from online versions of major newspapers to political bloggers, to 24-hour cable news to social media—plus the profession’s changing economics have caused the balance of power between political reporters and presidential candidates to change. Stephen Hess, senior fellow emeritus, says our very good, well-trained reporters are “almost dangerous” to presidential candidates who are trying to stay on message. Thus, says Hess, the way the press covers campaigns has changed as well, and not for the better.

Video

• Stephen Hess: The Changing Balance of Power in Presidential Campaign Reporting

The civil war tearing through Syria is worsened by a growing tide of refugees and displaced persons along with an escalating humanitarian crisis. Food shortages, a lack of housing and adequate health care are additional burdens that many Syrians now face. Senior Fellow and Brookings-LSE Project on Internal Dispacement Co-Director Elizabeth Ferris examines the cost of war in Syria in this episode of @ Brookings.

Video

• Elizabeth Ferris: Syria’s Escalating Humanitarian Crisis

Editors’ Note: Donald Trump has exposed the tension between democracy and liberal values—similar to the Arab Spring, writes Shadi Hamid. This piece originally appeared on The Atlantic.

When I was living in the Middle East, politics always felt existential, in a way that I suppose I could never fully understand. After all, I could always leave (as my relatives in Egypt were fond of reminding me). But it was easy enough to sense it. Here, in the era of Arab revolt, elections really had consequences. Politics wasn’t about policy; it was about a battle over the very meaning and purpose of the nation-state. These were the things that mattered more than anything else, in part because they were impossible to measure or quantify.

The primary divide in most Arab countries was between Islamists and non-Islamists. The latter, especially those of a more secular bent, feared that Islamist rule, however “democratic” it might be, would alter the nature of their countries beyond recognition. It wouldn’t just affect their governments or their laws, but how they lived, what they wore, and how they raised their sons and daughters.

Perhaps more than at any other time, millions of Americans are getting a sense, however mild in comparison, of what it might feel like to lose your country—or at least think about losing your country—because of what people decide to do in the privacy of the voting booth. It still remains (somewhat) unlikely that Donald Trump, the now presumptive Republican nominee, can win a general election. Regardless of the final outcome, however, the billionaire’s rise offers up a powerful—and frightening—reminder that liberal democracy, even where it’s most entrenched, is a fragile thing.

* * *

When I hear my friends debating how, exactly, so many of their fellow citizens could support someone like Trump, it reminds me a bit of Egypt. In my forthcoming book, I relay a telling conversation I had four years ago, which has stayed with me since. A few days after the country’s first post-revolutionary elections concluded in January 2012, I visited my great aunt in her extravagant flat in the posh Cairo suburb of Heliopolis. She was in a state of shock, but worse than that was the confusion. It was one thing for the Muslim Brotherhood, long Egypt’s largest opposition group, to win close to 40 percent of the vote, but how could 28 percent of Egyptians vote for ultraconservative Salafi parties, which believed in the strict implementation of Islamic law?

Like most Egyptians, she personally knew Brotherhood members even if she didn’t quite like them, but she hadn’t had much experience with Salafis and seemed totally unaware that they had extended their reach deep into Egyptian society. She realized, perhaps for the first time, that the country she had thought was hers for the better part of 70 years would never quite be the same. It hadn’t really even been hers to begin with.

What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

What my aunt feared was that Egypt would become an “illiberal democracy,” a term popularized by Fareed Zakaria in his 2003 book The Future of Freedom, but one that’s still difficult for Americans to fundamentally relate to. In the American experience, democracy and liberalism seemed to go hand in hand, to such an extent that democracy really just became shorthand for “liberal democracy.”

As Richard Youngs writes in his excellent study of non-Western democracy, liberalism and democracy have historically been “rival notions and not bedfellows.” Liberalism is about non-negotiable personal rights and freedoms. Democracy, while requiring some basic protection of rights to allow for meaningful competition, is more about popular sovereignty, popular will, and accountability and responsiveness to the voting public. Which, of course, raises the question: What if voters don’t want to be liberal and vote accordingly?

* * *

When the stakes are high, there is more to lose, and if there is more to lose, those on the losing end of a ballot box have powerful incentives to play “spoiler.” Fortunately, in the post-Civil War United States, the stakes have never reached what political scientist Barry Weingast calls the “threshold” at which citizens decide to defend themselves through extra-constitutional means, including by appealing for the military to take sides. This, in part, is why (good) constitutions are so important: They lower the stakes, reassuring citizens that even if their preferred party loses the election, it’s still just that—an election.

Donald Trump, or more specifically what he represents, calls some of these assumptions into question. Trump himself isn’t quite an Islamist, but he is a proponent of a kind of “illiberal democracy,” even if he himself may not be familiar with the term. Drawing on a wellspring of white nativism and machismo, candidate Trump has regularly made demeaning statements about entire groups of people, including African-Americans, Mexicans, and women. His commitment to the protections enshrined in U.S. constitution are questionable, at best, and if we assume the worst, downright frightening (the difficulty with Trump is that he’s not precise with words, so it’s sometimes hard to make sense of what he’s saying). He has expressed support for registering Muslims in a database, elaborating that they could “sign up at different places.” When a reporter asked how this was different from requiring Jews to register in Nazi Germany, Trump said “you tell me,” prompting The Atlantic’s David Graham to note that “it’s hard to remember a time when a supposedly mainstream candidate had no interest in differentiating ideas he’s endorsed from those of the Nazis.” Trump, for good measure, has also refused to disavow President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans.

The U.S. Constitution includes robust civil-liberties protections, enshrined in the Bill of Rights. But these protections are not unlimited. Contrary to popular belief, majorities—if they’re large enough—can, in fact, do nearly anything they want, even in established democracies. It’s only really a question of how high the majoritarian bar is. In the United States, two-thirds of Congress and 75 percent of the states can amend or repeal articles of the Constitution. They could theoretically pass a constitutional amendment banning abortion. In countries like Egypt, Tunisia, and Turkey, where alcohol is currently legal and relatively easy to find, the issue of alcohol consumption is a touchstone for endless “what if” hypothesizing. Yet, Prohibition happened not in any of those countries but in America, with large majorities in the Senate and House of Representatives as well as 46 of 48 states backing the 18th Amendment (of course, banning alcohol in the U.S. wasn’t justified on primarily scriptural grounds, while in Muslim-majority countries, prohibition is seen as fulfilling an explicitly Quranic directive).

In other words, built-in constraints and constitutional “guarantees” aren’t enough on their own to preclude illiberal outcomes. What Americans really depend on, then, is a shared political culture and the ideas and ideals that undergird it. As James Fallows notes, “Liberal democracies like ours depend on rules but also on norms—on the assumption that you’ll go so far, but no further, to advance your political ends.” But all it apparently takes is one man with charisma and an unusually perceptive understanding of the human psyche to change that. There are norms against politicians suggesting that minorities should have special identification cards. There are norms against saying you want to kill the families of terrorists. There are norms against encouraging your supporters to use violence against their political opponents. It’s not entirely clear why you don’t do or say these things (because Trump clearly has), but you just don’t. The very fact that Trump has made such frightening comments on national television—without any corresponding “disqualification” or decline in popular support—has already undermined these longstanding norms.

The United States has had demagogues before, but they rarely make for viable presidential candidates. This is democracy’s blessing as well as its curse: that people you really don’t like—people who you think might threaten the Republic—can actually win. In the specific context of the Republican nomination, Trump opponents basically called for prioritizing good outcomes over democratic ones. They continued to search for possible paths to denying Trump the nomination, despite the fact that, barring acts of God, he was certain to win the popular vote and a plurality of delegates in the primaries.

Even if Trump reached the magic number of 1,237 delegates, which would normally settle the matter, there were those who still seemed intent on scouring the rulebooks, parliamentary procedure, and delegate details in the hope of averting disaster. Democratic norms, the thinking goes, are great in normal contexts, but sometimes the stakes are simply too high to let democratic outcomes stand. As the columnist Walter Shapiro wrote, “[W]ith the threat of the first takeover of a modern political party by an authoritarian who traffics in racism and exudes contempt for the First Amendment ... [t]here would be nothing anti-democratic about GOP leaders using every mechanism in their power to stop Trump.” Nate Silver pointed out that “technically [Republicans would] be able to deny Trump the nomination even if he had a delegate majority by changing the rules at the last minute.” They could still theoretically do something like this, even after Trump’s decisive victory in Indiana. The Republican Party is not a country, and the party can disregard the preferences of primary voters if it so chooses, but elite pacts and back-room negotiations would seem decidedly antiquated during an unusually populist moment in American politics.

[T]here will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump.

This particular debate in some ways mirrors arguments over the tensions between democracy and liberalism, a debate that will only intensify if Trump gains ground on Hillary Clinton in the coming months. It is probably time to err on the side of imagination, since party elites and pundits failed to imagine the unthinkable once already. What if Trump actually wins the presidency? How would we as Americans deal with an outcome that at least some of us see as a potential danger to our Constitution as well as our livelihoods?

If Donald Trump wins, he would have, whether we liked it or not, a democratic mandate. Once in power, he might moderate his rhetoric and policies (yet another data point in the debate over the “inclusion-moderation hypothesis”), rendering at least some of this discussion moot. Yet it’s also possible that, facing a growing terrorist threat and a sputtering economy, more and more Americans might, like their newly elected president, dispense with the norms of reasonable conduct and support extreme measures. Still, a President Trump would be a legitimate president, having been freely and fairly elected by enough Americans. He would be, as much as it pains me to say it, our president. Still, there will no doubt be a temptation to defy or otherwise undermine a democratically elected Trump. For those of us who study the Middle East, the idea of not respecting democratic outcomes is business as usual, but I never thought it would be up for debate in the United States.

* * *

“Deep state” is a phrase that’s used to describe the constellation of autonomous and self-perpetuating institutions, namely the judiciary, military, and security services, which operate outside the glare of the public and are immune to the electorate’s whims. This deep state, acting as the guardian of national identity, puts limits on what elected politicians can hope to accomplish. The deep state was responsible for four coups in Turkey, the most recent of which deposed the country’s first-ever democratically elected Islamist prime minister in 1997.

It would be difficult for Americans to think about their own government—or “regime”—in such terms. The U.S. military is subject to civilian control, while Supreme Court justices, though unelected and appointed to life terms, are nominated by the president and confirmed by the Senate. It is possible, however, to imagine a president so reckless as to activate state institutions against him or her, in a way that makes the notion of an American deep state more meaningful and relevant.

Former CIA Director Michael Hayden ignited some speculative debate when he said that the military “would refuse to act” if ordered by a President Trump to take actions that were clearly illegal, such as killing the families of terrorists. Moreover, he said, military commanders are “required not to follow an unlawful order.” Even short of flagrant illegality, the military can still do what it’s done, at times, with nearly every sitting president. Peter Feaver, a leading expert on civil-military relations, notes that “the historical record is replete with cases of the military shirking—withholding information and options, slow-rolling, end-runs to Congress and the media, inflating cost estimates, etc.—to thwart civilian policies they deem to be unwise.” Considering, however, that Trump would likely be more “unwise” than most past presidents, such tensions could intensify well beyond what America’s political system is accustomed to.

"[C]oup”...is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse.

One can also easily imagine left-of-center (and right-of-center) civil servants in the Departments of State and Defense working against the president from within to mitigate his effectiveness and even his authority. This would be good, insofar as Americans wouldn’t want their president doing things that were crazy, illegal, or both. But it would still raise difficult questions about democratic legitimacy and how far an elected president can pursue his preferred policies, especially when it comes to issues that aren’t clear-cut. If the military refused to obey orders, however justified their refusal, then it could very well erode norms against military intervention in domestic politics. In response to Hayden’s comments, host Bill Maher joked that the former CIA director was floating “a coup.” This is not a word that Americans should ever get used to hearing in everyday political discourse. The norm against “coups” is a powerful one, which explains why American analysts (if not the U.S. government) are generally uncomfortable with military coups in foreign countries. No one teaches us that military coups are bad. Rather, it’s something we absorb in the process of being American. It goes without saying, so it’s rarely said.

Recently, a few friends (who work on Middle East issues) and I had an interesting although ultimately frightening conversation, as Trump extended his delegate lead over Ted Cruz. Sometimes it’s useful to game out worst-case scenarios, however unlikely they might seem. We tried imagining a dystopian future and came up with internment camps, (threats of) military coups, and pro-Trump militias. Soon enough, the last didn’t seem nearly so farfetched, with volunteers offering to provide security at Trump rallies (for Trump supporters).

* * *

It is hard to imagine such things because, despite a long, low-intensity war on terrorism, America hasn’t faced a large-scale terrorist attack on the homeland since September 11, 2001. Democratic systems produce self-perpetuating norms, because they are accountable to a voting public. It’s this very responsiveness, though, that can be a source of vulnerability, if enough citizens, in the grip of fear, decide to prioritize “security” over liberty. As the legal scholar Christopher Kutz writes in the suggestively titled article “How Norms Die,” democracy can be “at the same time both fertile and toxic: fertile as a source of humanitarian values and institutions, but toxic to the very institutions it cultivates.”

This is something we can measure. As Daniel Bush observed, after analyzing Pew survey data from 2002 to 2014: “During each campaign season, respondents reported having a higher negative impression of Muslim Americans than in non-election years.” This is a bit more mild than the link between elections and religious riots in India. As the historian of religions Michael Cook notes, “There is no doubt that Hindu nationalist politicians believe that communal riots can get out the Hindu vote for them. ... Under the right conditions the communal riot is a winning [electoral] strategy.”

Norm shifting of an even more dangerous kind than India’s can happen rather quickly in countries where democracy is not yet consolidated. For example, millions of Egyptians who demanded freedom and democracy in 2011 turned seemingly against it in less than two and half years, supporting not just a return to authoritarian rule but the August 14, 2013 massacre of more than 800 protesters—what Human Rights Watch calls the “worst mass killing in [Egypt’s] modern history.”

The kinds of shifts that occur in established democracies are less nefarious, but they can happen just the same. Torture is a good example. Kutz calls the spread of global norms against torture “one of the most impressive successes of the post-war period.” Yet, in the United States, these norms began to erode after the attacks of September 11th. Soon enough, torture—or what some were now euphemistically calling “enhanced interrogation”—came to enjoy broad support among the American public. The lesson again is clear. However strong they may first appear, norms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think. Once their sanctity is undermined by authority figures (whether presidents or presidential candidates), others can judge that what was once considered shameful is now not just socially tolerated but also necessary, good, and just. This is why “political correctness”—even if it seems irritating and is sometimes abused to restrict reasonable debate—still represents a public good: It makes us think twice about saying things that might contribute to the erosion of liberal and democratic norms.

[N]orms, particularly those relating to national security, are more fragile than we might like to think.

We have now reached a point where current or former presidential candidates from both parties have flirted with the idea of internment camps (former Democratic candidate Wesley Clark has called for “segregating” radicalized Muslims who are “disloyal to the United States”). In a series of incidents that have received less attention, a Tennessee State Representative called for using state institutions, in this case the National Guard, to “round up” Syrian refugees. Meanwhile, the mayor of Roanoke, Virginia, called for suspending assistance to refugees, but went further in an official statement on government letterhead. “I’m reminded,” he wrote, “that President Franklin D. Roosevelt felt compelled to sequester Japanese foreign nationals after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and it appears that the threat of harm to America from ISIS now is just as real and serious as that from our enemies then.”

No less than Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia believed that it could happen here. On this, he is on strong ground, since it has, of course, already happened. In 1944, the Supreme Court upheld Roosevelt’s internment of Japanese-Americans in Korematsu v. United States. While Scalia said that the decision was “wrong,” he also issued a warning in his blunt style: “You are kidding yourself if you think the same thing will not happen again.”

The norm against internment has been undermined, even though Americans do not face anything close to the threat presented by the Nazis and Japan during World War II. Which raises the question of what a plurality, or even a majority, of Americans might be willing to support if they had to confront a threat that was truly existential. We Americans are not, today, at war, at least not in the normal sense. I hope to God that we never will be again. But we might be. And this is where Scalia’s words that day were perhaps most chilling, in part because he was right. Evoking the Latin expression inter arma enim silent leges, he reminded the audience that “in times of war, the laws fall silent.” All we will have then are the things we still believe in—our norms. But, by then, they might not be enough.

Last month’s decision by the Palestinian Authority to schedule municipal elections in early October hardly registered in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, much less here in Washington. In light of Hamas’ recent decision to take part in the process, however, those elections have suddenly taken on new meaning. While the election of some 414 village, town, and city councils across the West Bank and Gaza Strip will not change the face of the Palestinian leadership or alter the diplomatic impasse with Israel, local elections have the potential to unlock the current paralysis within Palestinian politics.

Although Palestinian law calls for local elections to take place every four years, they have only been held twice since the creation of the Palestinian Authority (PA) in 1993, only one of which could be deemed genuinely competitive. The first and only local elections to take place in both the West Bank and Gaza Strip were held in 2004-05, in which Hamas—in its first foray into electoral politics—made major gains. Local elections were again held in 2012, although this time Hamas boycotted the process, preventing the vote from taking place in Gaza and allowing Fatah to declare a sweeping, if somewhat hollow, victory. 

Hamas’ decision to take part in this year’s local elections was therefore something of a surprise. Indeed, Hamas initially expressed dismay at the announcement, accusing the leadership in Ramallah of acting without consulting the other parties. Moreover, should the elections proceed as planned on October 8, they would be the first competitive electoral contest in the occupied territories since Hamas defeated Mahmoud Abbas’s ruling Fatah faction in the 2006 legislative election. Those elections triggered an international boycott of the PA which eventually led to the split between Fatah and Hamas and the current political paralysis.

If nothing else, Hamas’ entry into the elections averts another needless internal crisis in Palestinian politics. A boycott by Hamas would likely have further entrenched the political and geographic division between the Fatah-dominated West Bank and Hamas-ruled Gaza Strip, while dealing yet another blow to the beleaguered National Consensus Government, which despite being accepted by both factions in April 2014 has yet to physically return to Gaza. Movement on the reconciliation track could also help push the long-stalled reconstruction of Gaza, which has yet to recover from the devastating war of 2014.

Hamas has little to lose from participating in an election that is unlikely to significantly alter the political landscape one way or the other...[and Fatah] has little to gain from “winning” another electoral process that is largely uncontested.

What explains Hamas’ apparent change of heart? For one, Hamas may believe it has an advantage over Fatah, which continues to suffer from widespread perceptions of corruption and incompetence—a perception reinforced by the collapse of the peace process as well as the unprecedented unpopularity of President Abbas. Hamas may also view the upcoming vote as a way to gauge its current standing and future prospects in anticipation of long-awaited legislative and presidential elections. Either way, Hamas has little to lose from participating in an election that is unlikely to significantly alter the political landscape one way or the other. 

Hamas’ decision to participate in the elections is welcome news for Palestinian voters eager to see the return of competitive elections and a revival of political life after years of stagnation. It even helps Fatah, which has little to gain from “winning” another electoral process that is largely uncontested. More important, as the party that lost both parliamentary elections and a civil war in 2006-07 and that remains the chief proponent of a failed process, Fatah desperately needs a political victory of some kind as well as a basis on which to stake its claim to legitimacy and continued grip on power.

That said, it is important not to overstate the significance of local elections, which in the end will do nothing to address the deeper problems facing Palestinians in the occupied territories, whether from Israel’s continued occupation and its ever-expanding settlement enterprise or the ongoing political dysfunction within their own ranks. On the other hand, the prospect of the first competitive Palestinian elections in a decade represents a small but significant ripple in the otherwise stagnant waters of Palestinian politics.

Event Information

Many clinicians have terrific ideas for improving the quality and cost of health care, but often don’t know how to navigate the frequently baffling landscape of payment and delivery reform options. To address this need in clear, practical terms, we are pleased to announce the third MEDTalk event in the “Merkin Series on Innovations in Care Delivery.” The series is designed to support clinicians and policymakers who’ve always wondered how delivery reform occurs, but didn’t know where to begin.

Our third case drew on the experiences of the Community Asthma Initiative, an enhanced pediatric asthma intervention, and their efforts in sustainability. The event featured seven brief “TED-style” talks that consider the challenges of delivering pediatric care, while tackling non-medical factors that drive suboptimal care, improving patient and family quality of life, and reducing costs. The agenda included firsthand experiences from patients, payers, policymakers, and clinical leadership from Massachusetts and Arkansas. Sustainable improvement strategies and the financial mechanisms available to encourage innovations in asthma were explored.

Video

• MEDTalk: Pediatric Asthma and Transforming Care for the Most Vulnerable
• A Day in the Life: The Patient Experience
• Challenge Accepted: Delivery of Asthma Care in a Triple Aim World
• The Community Asthma Initiative: A Case Study in Clinical Innovation
• Paying for Asthma Care: Options for Tackling Challenges
• State Medicaid Innovation: Opportunities and Barriers
• A Tale of Success: How to Get the Payer on Board
• Lessons Learned and the Path Forward
• Question and Answer Session

With over 16 million people and nearly 8.6 million jobs, America's older industrial cities remain a vital-if undervalued-part of the economy, particularly in states where they are heavily concentrated, such as Ohio and Pennsylvania. They also have a range of other physical, economic, and cultural assets that, if fully leveraged, can serve as a platform for their renewal.

Read the Executive Summary  »

Across the country, cities today are becoming more attractive to certain segments of society. Meanwhile, economic trends-globalization, the demand for educated workers, the increasing role of universities-are providing cities with an unprecedented chance to capitalize upon their economic advantages and regain their competitive edge.

Many cities have exploited these assets to their advantage; the moment is ripe for older industrial cities to follow suit. But to do so, these cities need thoughtful and broad-based approaches to foster prosperity.

"Restoring Prosperity" aims to mobilize governors and legislative leaders, as well as local constituencies, behind an asset-oriented agenda for reinvigorating the market in the nation's older industrial cities. The report begins with identifications and descriptions of these cities-and the economic, demographic, and policy "drivers" behind their current condition-then makes a case for why the moment is ripe for advancing urban reform, and offers a five-part agenda and organizing plan to achieve it.

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Connecticut State Profile
Connecticut State Presentation 

Michigan State Profile
Michigan State Presentation 

New Jersey State Profile
New Jersey State Presentation 

New York State Profile
New York State Presentation 

Ohio State Profile
Ohio State Presentation
Ohio Revitalization Speech

Pennsylvania State Profile 

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