President George W. Bush averted a nasty rift when he agreed in the final hours of the recent G8 summit to "consider seriously" the need to halve the world's emissions of global-warming gases by 2050. Canada, the European Union and Japan had already embraced that goal, leaving America the dirty stand-out. The deeper truth is that these eight industrial countries control.

Only part of the world's emissions, and the industrial activities that cause emissions are slow to change. Coal will be the hardest to tame because it is so cheap and abundant. Many coal-power plants coming online today will still be in service by 2050, and advanced plants that store effluent safely underground won't be used widely for many more decades. The geopolitical hurdles are also high. The plan introduced with much fanfare earlier this month by China, which next year will become the world's top emitter of greenhouse gases, contains nothing beyond what Beijing already had in place. The world, therefore, is in for some warming.

Pessimism about stopping global warming is leading some scientists to wonder out loud if it is possible through "geoengineering" to force the Earth to cool. The idea is not entirely new and is fraught with dangers, but it is likely to get more attention in coming years. At least since the 1950s, weather makers have dreamed of steering clouds and rain to crops (though they failed in practice). From there it was a small step to dreaming on the global scale. Indeed, when the thesis of global warming was first proposed a few decades ago, some analysts envisioned putting mirrors in space or on deserts to deflect a small fraction of sunlight--just enough to offset, crudely, the buildup of warming gases in the atmosphere. These premature plans were wildly costly and faltered also because climate is sensitive to a lot more than just the gross amount of sunlight that warms the planet.

Today's plans are looking more practical, though still fraught with danger. One would spread iron, a nutrient for algae, in the ocean to stimulate photosynthesis, a natural process in which plants absorb carbon dioxide. Injecting iron in parts of the ocean where it is scarce could trigger algal blooms and help remove even more CO2. Experimental "iron fertilization," as well as careful measurement around natural iron sources, offers tantalizing support for the theory, though nobody knows what biological horrors might follow from messing with the ocean ecosystem on a large scale. Nobel laureate Paul Crutzen helped touch off the current pondering about geoengineering with an editorial in the August 2006 issue of the scientific journal Climatic Change. He revived a Russian idea from the 1970s to inject sulfur particles into the stratosphere with balloons, artillery guns or jumbo jets. (Full disclosure: I am on the journal's board of editors.) Sulfur, in turn, can produce aerosols (particulates) and clouds that reflect some sunlight back to space.

The plan has some drawbacks. Nasty chemistry, including that which caused the hole in the ozone layer, might follow--nobody is sure. Sulfur can also cause acid rain and respiratory diseases. But such ideas are worth a close look, says Crutzen, because unchecked changes in climate might be even worse. And nature already does this--through volcanoes such as Mount Pinatubo, which cooled the planet for a while after it erupted in 1991. None of this is ready for prime time, and the mere mention causes environmentalists to shudder because it distracts from the urgent need to reduce emissions. But it will get more attention as the difficulties in making deep cuts in emissions and adapting to climate change become more apparent.

Geoengineering will raise at least two awkward questions. First, it turns the geopolitics of global warming on its head. Cutting emissions requires many nations to cooperate. Geoengineering can be done by just a few, or even one. Who will determine if geoengineering is safe, and what if the rest of us don't like the consequences? The second is humanity's relationship to nature. Climate warming is already causing stress on natural ecosystems, and it is a small step to imagine engineering rare and special ecosystems to help protect them. But if mankind extends management to the whole planet, do we, in effect, turn Earth into a zoo?

The probability of a nuclear weapon one day going off in an American city cannot be calculated, but it is larger than it was five years ago. Potential sources of bombs or the fissile materials to make them have proliferated in North Korea and Iran. Russia's arsenal remains incompletely secured 15 years after the end of the Soviet Union. And Pakistans nuclear technology, already put on the market once by Abdul Qadeer Khan, could go to terrorists if the president, Gen. Pervez Musharraf, cannot control radicals in that country.

In the same period, terrorism has surged into a mass global movement and seems to gather strength daily as extremism spills out of Iraq into the rest of the Middle East, Asia, Europe and even the Americas. More nuclear materials that can be lost or stolen plus more terrorists aspiring to mass destruction equals a greater chance of nuclear terrorism.

Former Senator Sam Nunn in 2005 framed the need for Washington to do better at changing this math with a provocative question: On the day after a nuclear weapon goes off in a American city, "what would we wish we had done to prevent it?" But in view of the increased risk we now face, it is time to add a second question to Mr. Nunn's: What will we actually do on the day after? That is, what actions should our government take?

It turns out that much could be done to save lives and ensure that civilization endures in such terrible circumstances. After all, the underlying equation would remain a few terrorists acting against all the rest of us, and even nuclear weapons need not undermine our strong societies if we prepare to act together and sensibly. Sadly, it is time to consider such contingency planning.

First and foremost, the scale of disaster would quickly overwhelm even the most prepared city and state governments. To avoid repeating the Hurricane Katrina fiasco on a much larger scale, Washington must stop pretending that its role would be to support local responders. State and local governments--though their actions to save lives and avoid panic in the first hours would be essential--must abandon the pretense that they could remain in charge. The federal government, led by the Department of Homeland Security, should plan to quickly step in and take full responsibility and devote all its resources, including those of the Department of Defense, to the crisis.

Only the federal government could help the country deal rationally with the problem of radiation, which is unique to nuclear terrorism and uniquely frightening to most people. For those within a two-mile circle of a Hiroshima-sized detonation (in Washington, that diameter is the length of the Mall; in New York, three-fourths the length of Central Park; in most cities, the downtown area) or just downwind, little could be done. People in this zone who were not killed by the blast itself, perhaps hundreds of thousands of them, would get radiation sickness, and many would die.

But most of a city's residents, being further away, would have more choices. What should they do as they watch a cloud of radioactive debris rise and float downwind like the dust from the twin towers on 9/11? Those lucky enough to be upwind could remain in their homes if they knew which way the fallout plume was blowing. (The federal government has the ability to determine that and to quickly broadcast the information.) But for those downwind and more than a few miles from ground zero, the best move would be to shelter in a basement for three days or so and only then leave the area.

This is a hard truth to absorb, since we all would have a strong instinct to flee. But walking toward the suburbs or sitting in long traffic jams would directly expose people to radiation, which would be the most intense on the day after the bomb goes off. After that, the amount would drop off day by day (one third as strong after three days, one fifth as strong after five days, and so on), because of the natural decay of the radioactive components of the fallout.

More tough decisions would arise later. People downwind could leave their homes or stay, leave for a while and then come back or leave and come back briefly to retrieve valuables. The choices would be determined by the dose of radiation they were willing to absorb. Except in the hot zone around the blast and a few miles downwind, even unsheltered people would not be exposed to enough radiation to make them die or even become sick. It would be enough only to raise their statistical chance of getting cancer later in life from 20 percent (the average chance we all have) to something greater--21 percent, 22 percent, up to 30 percent at the maximum survivable exposure.

Similar choices would face first responders and troops sent to the stricken area: how close to ground zero could they go, and for how long? Few would choose to have their risk of death from cancer go up to 30 percent. But in cases of smaller probabilities--an increase to 20.1 percent, for example--a first responder might be willing to go into the radiation zone, or a resident might want to return to pick up a beloved pet. These questions could be answered only by the individuals themselves, based on information about the explosion.

Next comes the unpleasant fact that the first nuclear bomb may well not be the last. If terrorists manage to obtain a weapon, or the fissile material to make one (which fits into a small suitcase), who's to say they wouldn' have two or three more? And even if they had no more weapons, the terrorists would most likely claim that they did. So people in other cities would want to evacuate on the day after, or at least move their children to the countryside, as happened in England during World War II.

The United States government, probably convened somewhere outside Washington by the day after, would be urgently trying to trace the source of the bombs. No doubt, the trail would lead back to some government--Russia, Pakistan, North Korea or other countries with nuclear arsenals or advanced nuclear power programs--because even the most sophisticated terrorist groups cannot make plutonium or enrich their own uranium; they would need to get their weapons or fissile materials from a government.

The temptation would be to retaliate against that government. But it might not even be aware that its bombs were stolen or sold, let alone have deliberately provided them to terrorists. Retaliating against Russia or Pakistan would therefore be counterproductive. Their cooperation would be needed to find out who got the bombs and how many there were, and to put an end to the campaign of nuclear terrorism. It is important to continue to develop the ability to trace any bomb by analyzing its residues. Any government that did not cooperate in the search should of course face possible retaliation.

Finally, as buildings and lives were destroyed, so would the sense of safety and well-being of survivors, and this in turn could lead to panic. Contingency plans for the day after a nuclear blast should demonstrate to Americans that all three branches of government can work in unison and under the Constitution to respond to the crisis and prevent further destruction.

A council of, say, the president, the vice president, the speaker of the House and the majority leader of the Senate, with the chief justice of the Supreme Court present as an observer, could consider certain aspects of the government's response, like increased surveillance. Any emergency measures instituted on the day after should be temporary, to be reviewed and curtailed as soon as the crisis ends.

Forceful efforts to prevent a nuclear attack--more forceful than we have seen in recent years--may keep the day from coming. But as long as there is no way to be sure it will not, it is important to formulate contingency plans that can save thousands of lives and billions of dollars, prevent panic and promote recovery. They can also help us preserve our constitutional government, something that terrorists, even if armed with nuclear weapons, should never be allowed to take away.

William J. Perry, a professor at Stanford, and Ashton B. Carter, a professor at Harvard, were, respectively, the secretary and an assistant secretary of defense in the Clinton administration. Michael M. May, also a professor at Stanford, is a former director of the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory.

The Forum on Contemporary Europe is pleased to announce the inauguration of its research and public dissemination program on Sweden, Scandinavia, and the Baltic Region. With generous support from the Barbro Osher Pro Suecia Foundation, the Forum is able to act on long term plans to launch research and public programs on Sweden and the pressing issues of the Scandinavian and Baltic region. Special emphasis will be placed on developments in Sweden and the region's trans-Atlantic relations, and on the evolution of domestic and international policy, culture, science, trade, and law in emerging global relations.

The Forum's Program on Sweden, Scandinavia, and the Baltic Region is comprised of several components, which together are designed to make the Forum, and the Freeman-Spogli Institute for International Studies, a crucial nexus for new thinking and influential public programming on Sweden and the region. The program's components include:

Keynote lecture series

The Forum invites leading public figures from Sweden, and from Scandinavian and Baltic region policy centers and governments to deliver major addresses to the Stanford faculty and surrounding community.

Research and public seminar series

The Forum invites senior affiliated research faculty to design and conduct seminars, open to the public, on new research on Sweden and the region, across the full range of fields supported by all seven of Stanford's schools.

FCE Anna Lindh Fellowship

The Forum on Contemporary Europe is pleased to announce the inauguration of the Anna Lindh Fellowship for the study of Sweden, Scandinavia, the Baltic region and trans-Atlantic relations. The fellowships are part of the Forum's new Sweden, Scandinavia, and Baltic region program promoting research and public dissemination lectures, seminars, and conferences on contemporary Sweden and trans-Atlantic relations, as well as scholarly exchange between Stanford and Swedish peer institutions. The Anna Lindh Fellowship is designed to bring fellows from Sweden to Stanford University for periods of research, library and archive consultation, and collaboration with Stanford faculty and community.

The Forum on Contemporary Europe is now accepting applications for the Anna Lindh Fellowship for the 2007-2008 academic year. These fellowships are intended to support scholars from Sweden conducting research in any field of social, natural, or technical sciences, as well as law, business, and the humanities. This span of fields is supported by the wide range of research conducted in all of Stanford's seven schools. The fellowship is intended to support either short research visits (two to four weeks) or for a longer period of research work at Stanford (up to an academic year) to work with faculty and libraries and archives. Research projects could, in addition, address issues and thus involve travel to other U.S. institutions of higher learning and affiliated scholarly libraries and archives in the United States.

Stanford-Sweden-Regional peer university exchange

The Forum is planning to develop scholarly exchange programs, in addition to the Anna Lindh Fellowship, with leading peer universities and research centers in Sweden and the Scandinavian and Baltic regions. The aim of the affiliation with peer institutions is to build a community of senior and emerging scholars and policy figures, centered at the Forum on Contemporary Europe, and contributing to the advancement of knowledge on and policies concerning Sweden and the region's development and integration in trans-Atlantic and global relations.

WASHINGTON, May 24 (IPS) - This year the Association of Southeast Asian Nations celebrates its 40th birthday, and it has big plans. After four decades of being largely a political and security alliance, ASEAN is accelerating its plans for economic integration.

ASEAN leaders are so eager to pull together into an economic community that they recently decided to move the goalposts. The economic benchmarks originally planned for 2020 have been moved up to 2015.

"The mission of this economic community is to develop a single market that is competitive, equitably developed, and well integrated in the global economy," says Worapot Manupipatpong, principal economist and director of the office of the Secretary-General in the ASEAN Secretariat. He was speaking last week at an Asian Voices seminar in Washington, DC, sponsored by the Sasakawa Peace Foundation.

The single market of 2015 would encompass all ten members of ASEAN: Brunei, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar (Burma), Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, and Vietnam. According to the projections of the ASEAN Secretariat, the single market will be accomplished by removing all barriers to the free flow of goods, services, capital, and skilled labor. Rules and regulations will be simplified and harmonised. Member countries will benefit from improved economies of scale. Common investment projects, such as a highway network and the Singapore--Kunming rail link, will facilitate greater trade.

Although there will not be a single currency like the European Union's euro, the ASEAN countries will nevertheless aim for greater currency cooperation.

"ASEAN's process of economic integration was market-driven," says Soedradjad Djiwandono former governor of Bank Indonesia, and it was influenced by the "Washington consensus" favoring increased liberalisation. "It is a very different framework from the closed regionalism of the Latin American model," he continues. With multilateral talks on trade liberalisation stalled, efforts have largely shifted to bilateral negotiations. "There has been a proliferation of bilateral agreements that developed countries use as a way to push a program for liberalising different sectors," Djiwandono concludes.

So far, ASEAN points to increased trade within the ten-member community as an early sign of success. But, overall trade share -- 25 percent -- pales in comparison to the 46 percent share of the North American Free Trade Agreement countries or the 68 percent share of EU countries. And with intra-ASEAN foreign direct investment rather low -- only 6 percent in 2005 -- financial integration lags behind trade integration.

The ASEAN approach differs in several key respects from the EU model, which originated in a 1951 coal and steel agreement among six European nations. ASEAN's origins, in contrast, have been primarily political and security-oriented, observes Donald Emmerson, director of the South-east Asia Forum at the Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center at Stanford. "The success attributed to ASEAN is that it presided over an inter-state peace ever since it was formed. There's never been a war fought between ASEAN members."

Also distinguishing ASEAN from EU is the latter's institutionalisation. "ASEAN is radically different," Emmerson continues. "The much discussed ASEAN way is consultation, not even voting, since if they vote, someone will lose. Sometimes the consultation goes on without result. Sometimes decisions are reduced to the lowest common denominator. It also means that rhetoric predominates." This consultative process will be tested in November, when ASEAN leaders gather to adopt a charter, something that the EU has so far failed to accomplish.

Another difference with Europe is the enormous economic disparities among the ASEAN members, with Singapore and Brunei among the richest countries in the world and Laos among the poorest. These economic disparities are reproduced within the countries as well.

Worapot Manupipatpong points to two ASEAN initiatives for closing the gap. There is help for small and medium-sized enterprises. And the Initiative for ASEAN Integration,"basically provides technical assistance to Cambodia, Laos, and Myanmar so that they can catch up with the rest of the ASEAN members," he says. "Attention will be paid to where these countries can participate in the regional networks, what comparative advantage they have, and how to enhance their capacities to participate in the regional development and supply chain."

Then there are ASEAN's efforts to address "public bads," according to Soedradjad Djiwandono. "When there is a tsunami or a pandemic," he argues, "the worst victims are the marginalised or the poor. Addressing that kind of issue has some positive impact on reducing inequality."

"The gap between the early joiners and the later joiners will continue to be substantial because ASEAN has always been more of a forum and less of a problem-solving organisation," observes Karl Jackson, director of the Asian Studies Program at the School for Advanced International Studies at Johns Hopkins University. "As a result one would expect that these gaps would be closed only as individual countries increase their rates of growth." He attributes the inequality within countries to the middle stage of growth experienced by almost all societies: "Inequality increases before the state becomes strong enough to redivide some of the pie and take care of the gross inequalities caused by rapid economic growth."

ASEAN is banking on financial and trade liberalisation increasing the overall regional pie. On paper it is an ambitious project. But "the low hanging fruit have been plucked," says Donald Emmerson. Tariffs on the "easy commodities" have already been reduced to less than 5 percent. But non-tariff barriers to trade remain, and member countries are very protective of certain sectors.

Also tempering the region's optimism is the memory of the Asian financial crisis. The crisis began in Thailand in 1997 and spread rapidly to other countries in the region. One school of thinking holds that capital mobility -- "hot money" -- either caused or considerably aggravated the crisis. Since the ASEAN integration promises greater capital mobility, will the region be at greater risk of another such crisis?

"One consequence of the economic dynamism of the Asia-Pacific region," notes Donald Emmerson, "is that the accumulation of vast foreign exchange reserves -- obviously in China, but in other countries too -- more than anything else represents an asset that can be brought into the equation as a stabilising factor in the event of a financial crisis." Also, he continues, as a result of the ASEAN plus Three network, which adds China, South Korea, and Japan to the mix, the 13 countries have "made serious headway toward establishing currency swap arrangements that would come into play in an emergency on the scale of an Asian financial crisis."

Karl Jackson also looks to currency reforms as a hedge against future crisis. The Thai baht and the Indonesian rupiah are now unpegged currencies. "You will not have a situation in which the central bank of Thailand loses 34 billion US dollars defending the baht," Jackson argues. "Instead, the baht will appreciate or depreciate according to market forces."

But Jackson still remains cautious about the future. He points to the large number of non-performing loans in the Chinese banking sector. Also, there is "this anomaly of the U.S. absorbing two-thirds of the savings coming out of Asia, plugging it mostly into consumption rather than direct investment," he observes. "Eventually there has to be some kind of readjustment. The real value of the dollar must fall." (END/2007)

Reprinted by permission from IPS Asia-Pacific.

Political science Professor Michael McFaul gave the Class Day lecture Saturday in Maples Pavilion.

If Stanford is indeed a bubble, political science Professor Michael McFaul deftly pointed out its radiant lining while simultaneously bursting it with a needle--in the form of sobering statistics and descriptions that paint a dour portrait of America's international standing--during his Class Day lecture on Saturday in Maples Pavilion.

Sponsored by the Stanford Alumni Association, the Class Day tradition gathers graduates and their families before a distinguished faculty member for a keynote address that is at once congratulatory and weighty. But McFaul, the Peter and Helen Bing Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution, began by describing his humble roots as a boy from Montana.

"When I came to Stanford as a 17-year-old freshman, I was raw and not ready for prime time," McFaul admitted. "I had never lived anywhere but Montana. I hadn't even set foot in California, let alone a foreign country."

In 1986, McFaul said he emerged from the Farm a dramatically different person--holding a bachelor's degree in international relations and Slavic languages and literatures, as well as a master's in Russian and East European studies. He had lived in the Soviet Union, Nigeria and Poland; and today, McFaul is regarded as one of the top scholars in terms of bringing together the theory and practice of democracy.

"I came here wanting to practice law and left here wanting to practice diplomacy," said McFaul, who in 2005 was appointed director of the Center for Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law at the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies. "So, my time in the bubble changed me."

Then McFaul brought out the needle. He noted that, just as this year's graduates were first arriving on the Farm, President George W. Bush was outlining his "freedom agenda," a plan to transform the world. McFaul said the plan outlined Bush's strategy for promoting democracy around the world as a way of keeping Americans safe.

But so far, McFaul lamented, few of the plan's goals have been realized. "It hasn't been pretty out there," McFaul said. "While you have been living inside the bubble, a lot has been happening--much of it bad--outside of the bubble."

McFaul then reminded graduates of positive developments, such as the Rose Revolution in Georgia in 2003 and the Orange Revolution in Ukraine in 2004. And, no one, he added, misses the Taliban regime in Afghanistan or Saddam Hussein in Iraq.

"But overall, trends are disappointing," McFaul said. "In Afghanistan, democracy is barely holding on. In Iraq and Palestine, there's civil war."

Between 2003, when the departing undergraduates in the audience arrived as freshmen, and today, more than 3,000 American soldiers, roughly 60,000 Iraqis and more than 200,000 people in Darfur have died, McFaul said. He added that the number of al-Qaida's followers also has grown during the four years that the Class of 2007 was in "the bubble."

And yet, the graduates might have left Maples completely deflated were it not for the main message of McFaul's lecture, which was one of renewal. When he graduated from Stanford in 1986, McFaul gave a graduation speech at the ceremony for international relations majors in which he lamented the failing arms control treaty between the Soviet Union and the United States. He also expressed dismay that South Africa's apartheid regime had just declared emergency rule and that Washington seemed too confrontational or too indifferent to address either.

"However, after each of these periods, the United States had found a way to renew itself and become again a force for freedom and justice around the world," McFaul said. "So, my understanding of history gives me confidence in our capacity for renewal. But so does my sense of the future that comes from teaching here at Stanford University."

McFaul said he has taught enough of this year's graduates to know that they have the smarts, the drive and the convictions to turn things around--young men and women from throughout the United States but also from nations such as Afghanistan, Brazil, Egypt, India, Indonesia and Nigeria.

"Someone sitting here right now will someday open the first U.S. Embassy in a democratic Iran," McFaul said. "Someone sitting here right now will inspire a third grader in the South Bronx to become the first kid in his neighborhood to win a Nobel Prize in physics."

But in the effort to renew the world, McFaul also told the graduates they should not forget to renew themselves. He urged them not to describe whatever occupation they take up simply as a job title, but as an action verb; to occasionally welcome idle time to refocus their energies; to embrace uncertainty; and to continue to learn and stay connected to Stanford.

McFaul's parting message echoed the welcome address by Howard Wolf, '80, vice president for alumni affairs and president of the Stanford Alumni Association. "Alumni are the only permanent stakeholders" of the university, Wolf said. "Get involved, stay connected."