Reducing carbon-dioxide emissions is primarily a political problem, rather than a technological one. This fact was well illustrated by the fate of the 2009 climate bill that barely passed the U.S. House of Representatives and never came up for a vote in the Senate. The House bill was already quite weak, containing many exceptions for agriculture and other industries, subsidies for nuclear power and increasingly long deadlines for action. In the Senate, both Republicans and Democrats from coal-dependent states sealed its fate. Getting past these senators is the key to achieving a major reduction in our emissions.

Technological challenges to reducing emissions exist, too. Most pressing is the need to develop the know-how to capture carbon dioxide on a large scale and store it underground. Such technology could reduce by 90 percent the emissions from coal- fired power stations. Some 500 of these facilities in the U.S. produce 36 percent of our CO2 emissions.

But these plants aren’t evenly spaced around the country. And therein may lie the key to addressing the political and technological challenges at the same time. If the federal government would invest in carbon capture and storage, it could go a long way toward persuading politicians in every state to sign on to emission reductions.

I’ll get to the specifics of the technology shortly. But first, consider how the costs of emission reduction fall hardest on certain parts of the country: A carbon tax levied on all major sources of released CO2, the approach favored by most of the environmental community, would make energy from coal-fired power plants cost more. To make a significant difference, such a tax would have to amount to $60 a ton.

Midwest Carbon Footprint

As a result, gasoline prices would rise 26 percent, and natural gas for household usage by 25 percent, nationwide. Rich and urbanized states could probably tolerate this. The West Coast, with its hydroelectric power, and the Northeast, which relies to a large extent on natural gas, could most easily absorb the associated increase in energy costs.

But the price of energy in the rural, Midwestern states would more than quadruple because of their large carbon footprint. Midwesterners get most of their electricity from coal; they drive relatively long distances to get to work, shopping and entertainment; and rural homes and buildings use more energy for heating and cooling.

One carbon-tax proposal now being considered is a “cap and dividend” plan that would send the tax revenue back to all U.S. citizens equally. But that would also favor the rich states that are less dependent on driving and coal.

It would be more helpful for the coal-dependent states if the federal government would use revenue from a carbon tax to help develop the technology for carbon capture and storage.

And that brings us to the technological challenges: No plant of any size with the capacity for CCS yet exists, but it has been demonstrated to work at small scales. Three different processes for capturing the CO2 are being tested, and scaling them up for 500-megawatt or 1,000-megawatt facilities should be possible.

For two years, the Mountaineer plant in New Haven, West Virginia, has been capturing and storing a tiny amount of its CO2 -- 2 percent of it -- but plans to build a full-scale carbon-capture plant here have been abandoned. Because Congress has dropped any idea of imposing a tax on carbon emissions, the investment doesn’t make sense.

A large plant in Edwardsport, Indiana, was being constructed with the expensive gasification process that makes it easy to add carbon-capture facilities, but it, too, has been shelved.

China may finish its large demonstration carbon-capture plant before the U.S. gets any model up to scale. Others are planned in Europe, and a small one is operating in Germany. This plant has been unable to get permission for underground storage, so it is selling some of its CO2 to soft-drink companies and venting the rest.

Subterranean Storage

Storing captured CO2 is eminently possible, too. For 15 years, the Sleipner facility in Norway has been storing 3 percent of that country’s CO2 underneath the ocean floor, with no appreciable leakage. Algeria has a similar facility, the In Salah plant, operating in the desert.

One storage strategy under consideration in the U.S. is to inject captured CO2 into huge basalt formations off both the east and west coasts. Inside the basalt, the carbon gas would gradually turn into bicarbonate of soda.

There are other ways to dispose of carbon dioxide. It has been used for enhanced oil recovery for many decades without any danger, and has been effectively stored in depleted oil reservoirs. (The gas is dangerous only in high concentration.)

It remains uncertain how much of the captured CO2 might leak during storage. Even if this were as much as 10 percent, however, it would mean that 90 percent of it would stay underground.

As CCS technology develops, it will have to be made more efficient so that it uses less energy. As it is, the capture phase is expected to require that a power plant burn 20 percent to 25 percent more coal than it otherwise would.

The technological challenges may explain why energy companies haven’t lobbied for subsidies to develop CCS. The electric-energy sector isn’t known for innovation and risk- taking. Just look at the U.S.’s outdated power grid.

But the federal government could pay for the subsidies through a tax on carbon. Such a levy would have other advantages, too: It would raise the cost of energy to reflect the damage that burning coal and oil now do to the environment, and spur the development of renewable sources.

If states with large carbon footprints can’t accept such a tax, the CCS subsidies could be paid from the general fund. The cost to build coal-fired power plants with CCS technology is estimated to be about $5 billion to $6 billion -- about the price of a single nuclear power plant. The total price for the U.S.’s 500 large plants would be $250 billion. That’s as much as the planned modernization and expansion of our missile defense system over 10 years.

But it would slash our carbon emissions by at least 20 percent. There is no other politically possible way to cut CO2 as much, and as quickly -- in a decade or two. And devastating climate change is far more likely than a missile attack.

U.S. investment in CCS technology could also induce China and Europe to follow suit. And this would allow the world time for renewable-energy technologies to mature -- to the point where we could do away with coal burning altogether.

Russia will soon have another liberal ex-president. Twenty years ago this December, Mikhail Gorbachev stood in the Kremlin as the Soviet flag was lowered and replaced with the Russian tricolor. He sat down in the back seat of his limousine and was driven out the Borovitskaya gate, no longer president of the Soviet Union but instead a private citizen of the newly independent Russian Federation.

In March, Dmitry Medvedev, who has been president of Russia since 2008, will have a similar experience. He will surrender his office to his prime minister, predecessor and political patron Vladimir Putin, who after months of speculation has at last confirmed his intention to run for president on the ruling United Russia party's ticket. When Medvedev leaves office in March, he like Gorbachev will face the question of what role to play in his country's future. What becomes of a liberal ex-president in a decidedly illiberal state like Russia?

One thing is certain—Medvedev's welfare and personal security are assured as long as Putin remains in control. Medvedev has long been a close ally of Putin, and the latter is thought to have chosen him to become president in 2008 because of his unswerving loyalty. Thus, unlike former leaders in some other authoritarian states, Medvedev need not seek asylum abroad.

In fact, Medvedev has already telegraphed one likely possibility, namely that Putin's faith in him remains so great that he will continue to serve in the government, perhaps as prime minister. Putin may also define a new position for his protégé within the Russian government—for example, as chief justice of the constitutional court or in some high-profile international position, such as an ambassador at large for global security.

In any event, Medvedev's role in a future Putin-dominated government is likely to remain functionally similar to what it is today: evangelist in chief for Russia's modernization efforts, including the Skolkovo "city of innovation." Medvedev's voice could also continue to serve Putin's need for a popular lightning rod against corruption or in foreign policy as a spokesman and manager of the U.S.-Russia "reset."

If Medvedev is not given a formal appointment by his successor, he has another set of options altogether.

He can choose to follow the precedent set by Gorbachev, who also left office at a young age and well known for his liberal views—by participating selectively in political debates, possibly creating and leading a new political party or perhaps standing for office again in the next election, as Gorbachev did in 1996. Putin's predecessor and patron, Boris Yeltsin, was already in poor health when he left office in 1999, but even he spoke out occasionally on political and foreign-policy matters until his death in 2007.

Even without holding a formal office, Medvedev's voice will be influential. He could reach out to current and former political and business leaders and raise funds for favored causes. He could choose a signature initiative—most likely modernization—and create a nongovernmental organization to advance it, on the model of Gorbachev's Green Cross International or the Clinton Global Initiative. Other worthwhile causes might include combating corruption, environmental degradation, and drug and alcohol abuse, all of which cast a shadow over Russia's future.

Because he owes so much to Putin personally, Medvedev is unlikely to speak out as frankly or critically to Russian audiences about the Putin system as either Gorbachev or Yeltsin did. But he may have the opportunity to rise to a greater and more revered status internationally than he enjoyed as president if he chooses the path of ex-leaders like Vaclav Havel or Jimmy Carter, concerning himself with democratic development and human rights around the world. Even though he did not deliver perfect democracy and rule of law in his own country, the international community will surely welcome a prominent Russian voice to advocate these values.

Many outgoing presidents become obsessed with "legacy" to the point of wasting resources and political capital pursuing unrealistic or impossible goals during their last months in office. Thus far, Medvedev seems to have avoided chasing political rainbows. If anything he has refined his focus on concrete initiatives like Skolkovo and new campaigns against alcohol and tobacco use.

Perhaps Medvedev is keeping his head down, hoping that if he does not appear to threaten the system's stability, Putin will agree to keep him at the center of power, or perhaps even restore him to the presidency in 2018. Then again, maybe Medvedev has already defined his legacy and post-presidential role: offering Russians a bright vision of their country's future but accepting that the road to get there will be long and winding and that he may not himself be in the driver's seat.

Matthew Rojansky is the deputy director of the Russia and Eurasia program at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Russia watchers in the West cannot be surprised that Vladimir Putin is on his way back to the Russian presidency. Dmitri Medvedev was always his protégé, and there was no doubt that major decisions could not be made without his approval. This includes signing the New START arms control treaty, cooperating with NATO in Afghanistan and supporting U.N. sanctions on Iran — all of which should provide reassurance that Putin’s return won’t undo the most important accomplishments of the U.S.-Russia “reset.”

Yet the relationship with the West will inevitably change. For one thing, Putin can have nothing like the rapport his protégé developed with President Obama, which was built upon the two leaders’ shared backgrounds as lawyers, their easy adoption of new technologies, and their fundamentally modern worldviews.

The Bilateral Presidential Commission which Obama and Medvedev created and charged with advancing U.S.-Russia cooperation on everything from counterterrorism to health care may suffer. The relationship as a whole is not adequately institutionalized, and depends on the personal attention of Russian officials who will likely avoid taking action without clear direction from Putin, or who may be removed altogether during the transition.

Putin’s return to the presidency will also provide fodder for Western critics bent on portraying Obama and the reset as a failure, or dismissing Putin’s Russia as merely a retread of the Soviet Union.

These critics are wrong — today’s Russia bears little resemblance to what Ronald Reagan dubbed an “evil empire” — but Putin has been far more tolerant of Soviet nostalgia than his junior partner, and his next term will surely bring a new litany of quotations about Soviet accomplishments and Russia’s glorious destiny that will turn stomachs in the West.

Although he has spent his entire career within the apparatus of state power, including two decades in the state security services, Putin is at heart a C.E.O., with a businessman’s appreciation for the bottom line. Western companies already doing business in Russia can expect continuity in their dealings with the state, and it will remain in Russia’s interest to open doors to new business with Europe and the United States. The next key milestone for expanding commercial ties will be Russia’s planned accession to the World Trade Organization, which could come as soon as December.

At home, Putin faces a looming budget crisis. As the population ages and oil and gas output plateaus the government will be unable to continue paying pensions, meeting the growing demand for medical care, or investing in dilapidated infrastructure throughout the country’s increasingly depopulated regions.

This means that while Putin will seek to preserve Russia’s current economic model, which is based on resource extraction and export, he will be forced to assimilate many of his protégé’s ideas for modernizing Russia’s research and manufacturing sectors. Medvedev’s signature initiative, the Skolkovo “city of innovation,” will likely receive continuing support from the Kremlin, although it will have little long-term impact without a thorough nationwide crackdown on corruption and red tape.

Putin’s restored power will be strongly felt in Russia’s immediate neighborhood, which he has called Moscow’s “sphere of privileged interests.” Even though Kiev has renewed Russia’s lease on the Black Sea Fleet’s Sevastopol base through 2042 and reversed nearly all of the previous government’s anti-Russian language and culture policies, Ukraine is unlikely to win a reprieve from high Russian gas prices. Putin will also continue to press Ukraine to join the Russia-dominated customs union in which Kazakhstan and Belarus already participate. He may also take advantage of Belarus’s deepening economic isolation and unrest to oust President Aleksandr Lukashenko in favor of a more reliable Kremlin ally.

Putin and Medvedev have been equally uncompromising toward Georgia. Both are openly contemptuous of Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili, and it is unlikely that any progress on relations can occur until Georgia’s presidential transition in 2013.

Putin has good reason to continue backing NATO operations in Afghanistan to help stem the flow of drugs, weapons and Islamism into Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Russia itself. Moreover, as China extends its economic hegemony into Central Asia, he may find America to be a welcome ally.

Putin appreciates the advantages of pragmatic partnerships and will seek to preserve the influence of traditional groupings like the U.N. Security Council and the G-8 while at the same time promoting alternatives like the Shanghai Cooperation Organization and the Brics.

The succession from Putin to Medvedev and back again was decided behind closed doors, and the formal transition of power is likely to take place with similar discipline. This should offer the West and the wider world some reassurance. Putin’s return to the presidency is far from the democratic ideal, but it is not the end of “reset.” Many ordinary Russians support him because he represents stability and continuity of the status quo and, for now, that is mostly good for Russia’s relations with the West.

Summary from Columbia University Press:

For more than a century, from 1900 to 2006, campaigns of nonviolent resistance were more than twice as effective as their violent counterparts in achieving their stated goals. By attracting impressive support from citizens, whose activism takes the form of protests, boycotts, civil disobedience, and other forms of nonviolent noncooperation, these efforts help separate regimes from their main sources of power and produce remarkable results, even in Iran, Burma, the Philippines, and the Palestinian Territories.

Combining statistical analysis with case studies of specific countries and territories, Erica Chenoweth and Maria J. Stephan detail the factors enabling such campaigns to succeed and, sometimes, causing them to fail. They find that nonviolent resistance presents fewer obstacles to moral and physical involvement and commitment, and that higher levels of participation contribute to enhanced resilience, greater opportunities for tactical innovation and civic disruption (and therefore less incentive for a regime to maintain its status quo), and shifts in loyalty among opponents’ erstwhile supporters, including members of the military establishment. 

Chenoweth and Stephan conclude that successful nonviolent resistance ushers in more durable and internally peaceful democracies, which are less likely to regress into civil war. Presenting a rich, evidentiary argument, they originally and systematically compare violent and nonviolent outcomes in different historical periods and geographical contexts, debunking the myth that violence occurs because of structural and environmental factors and that it is necessary to achieve certain political goals. Instead, the authors discover, violent insurgency is rarely justifiable on strategic grounds.

Description from Stanford University Press:

The US government spends billions of dollars every year to reduce uncertainty: to monitor and forecast everything from the weather to the spread of disease. In other words, we spend a lot of money to anticipate problems, identify opportunities, and avoid mistakes. A substantial portion of what we spend—over $50 billion a year—goes to the U.S. intelligence community.

Reducing Uncertainty describes what intelligence community analysts do, how they do it, and how they are affected by the political context that shapes, uses, and sometimes abuses their output. In particular, it looks at why intelligence community analysts pay more attention to threats than to opportunities, and why they appear to focus more on warning about the possibility of "bad things" happening than on providing the input necessary for increasing the likelihood of positive outcomes.

The book is intended to increase public understanding of what analysts do, to elicit more relevant and constructive suggestions for improvement from outside the Intelligence Community, to stimulate innovation and collaboration among analysts at all grade levels in all agencies, and to provide a core resource for students of intelligence.

The most valuable aspect of this book is the in-depth discussion of National Intelligence Estimates—what they are, what it means to say that they represent the "most authoritative judgments of the intelligence community," why and how they are important, and why they have such high political salience and symbolic importance. The final chapter lays out, from an insider's perspective, the story of the flawed Iraq WMD NIE and its impact on the subsequent Iran nuclear NIE—paying particular attention to the heightened political scrutiny the latter received in Congress following the Iraq NIE debacle.

Abstract:

By examining via a case study the political authority of US proliferation experts since the 1960s, this article contributes to nuclear weapons proliferation studies and to the growing literature on the role of expertise in democracies. First, it argues that policy choices are determined by an understanding of history and that approaching nuclear history as a history of nuclear weapons proliferation is a presumption shared by both US experts and policy makers. Second, it shows that this understanding of history, relying on the metaphorical use of the term proliferation (which was imported from biology), strongly distorts the facts. Third, the article shows that nuclear experts are plagued by a conservative bias as a result of this use of the proliferation metaphor. Instead of challenging the faulty proliferation narrative, most experts have backed it without question. Fourth, the legitimacy that experts lend to this view of history has important political effects: it provides an authoritative assessment of past policies and limits the possibility of political innovation. Policy initiatives tend to be restricted to changes in speed or intensity. The article suggests three changes that might restore room for informed political innovation in nuclear weapons policies.