Q. What initially drew you to the field of international relations and foreign policy? Were there any particular experiences or childhood memories that sparked your interest in these areas?
As a British citizen, born in Brazil, raised in international schools in the US, and with parents who had lived all over the world, I realised early on that ‘the world’ isn’t an abstraction. I never experienced the feeling that other countries were just places on a map - although I am partial to a countries of the world quiz! History was the subject that captured me most at school. At some point I started applying what I was learning and reading to current affairs, and quickly realised the past was never really the past. The same pressures and rivalries were simply wearing modern clothes. That turned an interest in history into an interest in politics and international relations. What drives me now is the need to understand the world, including everywhere and everyone in it, as it actually is rather than as we might wish it to be.
Q. In your view, what are the key principles or non-negotiables that should guide foreign policy decision-making?
I’m wary of the word “non-negotiable”, because the best foreign policy is almost always negotiated! That said, there are a few principles I regularly come back to. The first is clarity: a country that can’t say what it actually wants will find others happy to decide for it. The second is credibility. In practice, never draw a line you aren’t prepared to defend, because every empty threat makes the next one worth less. The third is prudence - judging decisions by their likely consequences rather than their good intentions. History offers plenty of well-meaning decisions that ended badly. And finally, a proper respect for history itself. Most crises have very long memories, and the leaders who forget that tend to be surprised by things that really shouldn’t have surprised anyone.
Q. If you had the opportunity to create your own political ideology, what principles would define it?
Honestly, I would turn the opportunity down! Ideologies tend to start with the answers and work backwards, and I’d much rather begin with the questions. If I had to define a set of principles, they’d be about how to think rather than what to think: curiosity before conviction, a willingness to change my mind when the evidence changes, and a habit of asking what history has to say before assuming something is new. I’d also want room for real disagreement. Some of the best conversations I’ve had have been with people I disagree with, and I think politics is better when we argue with each other’s best arguments rather than our worst. So perhaps my ideology would simply be a healthy suspicion of anyone who is completely certain they’re right.
Q. How significant a role do economic considerations play in shaping a country’s foreign policy? Do you believe economic interests often take precedence over political or ideological concerns?
Far more significant than governments usually like to admit. I tend to think ideology sets the rhetoric, but economics sets the limits of what’s actually possible. A country’s economic strength is ultimately the foundation of everything else, such as its defence, its influence and its ability to stand by its allies. Europe’s reliance on Russian energy is a clear recent example of what happens when that’s forgotten. For years there was a comfortable assumption that trade would make difficult regimes more reasonable, and the true cost of that assumption became obvious in 2022. I think one of the most important lessons of the past few years is that economic resilience is a matter of national security. Being able to produce, power and supply yourself in the areas that matter is no longer old-fashioned; it’s simply sensible.
Q. Where do you see the current world order heading over the next few decades? Are you optimistic or concerned about the direction of global politics?
Somewhere more crowded and more competitive. The relatively settled order of the post-Cold War decades is giving way to a world with several centres of power, and transitions like that are rarely smooth. In answering your second question, I’d say I’m concerned, but not alarmed. I’ve written before against nuclear alarmism, and I think the same instinct applies more broadly. Panic makes for bad policy. History suggests that peace is usually kept not by good intentions but by strength, credible deterrence and alliances that mean what they say. The years after the Cold War allowed many Western countries to assume that peace would look after itself, and I think we’re now relearning that it doesn’t. What keeps me cautiously optimistic is that this is a lesson that can be learned. If the West has the confidence to invest in its own security and stand by its allies, the incentives against catastrophic conflict remain enormous. A lot will depend on whether today’s leaders have the patience and the backbone to manage rivalry without either provoking it or pretending it isn’t there.