Temas de relações internacionais, de política externa e de diplomacia brasileira, com ênfase em políticas econômicas, viagens, livros e cultura em geral. Um quilombo de resistência intelectual em defesa da racionalidade, da inteligência e das liberdades democráticas. Ver também minha página: www.pralmeida.net (em construção).
My maternal grandmother was born in 1932 in Queens, one year before Ruth Bader Ginsburg in Brooklyn. She was married in 1955 and, like many Irish-Catholic families then, she and my grandfather went on to have many children—seven, in their case. He worked in construction and she did not work outside the home, but she volunteered at church and at the polls, and eagerly took an office job after her sixth child entered grade school, happy for the slice of independence. According to family lore, she was crushed to leave her position when she found out she was pregnant again.
My grandma’s is an entirely common story for a woman born in the ’30s. That Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s life diverged so remarkably from the rest of her generation seems to be a function of two things. First, there was the fact that her mother, Celia Bader, left behind a college fund when she died of cancer the day before Ruth’s graduation; then, there was the man she married: Martin “Marty” Ginsburg, a proto-feminist unicorn who supported her dreams and ambitions along with his own.
In the outpouring of remembrances following RBG’s death on Friday, it’s become increasingly clear that Marty was Ruth’s not-so-secret weapon; that she may never have been able to reach her full, glorious and iconic potential had she not had a husband who ranked her career as equal to his own. In a career full of legal battles dismantling gender discrimination, Ruth’s own love story may be the best case study for proving the power of an egalitarian partnership.
“If she wants children and a job, a woman’s life is only as good as the man or woman she marries,” Caitlin Moran writes in her new book, More Than a Woman. “All too often women are marrying their glass ceilings.” By this metric, one can understand at least part of why Ginsburg said that meeting Marty was “by far the most fortunate thing that ever happened to me.”
When they got together at Cornell University in the ’50s, “Marty was a most unusual fellow,” Ginsburg famously said. “He was the only boy I ever knew.…who cared that I had a brain.” She fell in love with his mind too—in professor Vladimir Nabokov’s lit class, Marty correctly answered a quiz question about Dickens, and Ruth was hooked. They reportedly read Tolstoy and Dickens aloud to one another—a real-life fairy tale for the bookish among us.
The Ginsburgs hitched their wagons to each other’s stars, going from Cornell to Harvard Law. When Marty was diagnosed with testicular cancer, Ruth attended his classes and typed up his notes before starting her own coursework at 2 a.m. She and their daughter, Jane, followed Marty to New York when he got a law firm job after graduation, with Ruth foregoing her last year at Harvard Law and instead finishing her degree at Columbia. What feels rare is not that Ruth made sacrifices for their marriage, but that Marty made them too. As he became a tax attorney and Ruth pursued advocacy work at the ACLU and professorships, he famously took on the domestic task of cooking for the family. “Ruth wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the kitchen,” former Solicitor General Theodore Olson once said.
Cooking was not a chore for Marty, but a love language, according to Irin Carmon and Shana Knizhnik’s The Notorious R.B.G. “If my first memories are of Daddy cooking,” Jane Ginsburg said, “so are my last. Cooking for Mother even when he could not himself eat, nor stand in the kitchen without pain, because for him it was ever a joy to discuss the law over dinner with Mother while ensuring that she ate well and with pleasure.” As Marty told the New York Times: “As a general rule, my wife does not give me any advice about cooking and I do not give her any advice about the law. This seems to work quite well on both sides.”
But Marty also gave his direct and indispensable professional support. As a potential nominee to the Supreme Court under President Bill Clinton, it was considered taboo for Ginsburg herself to self-promote. But there were no rules against husbands lobbying on behalf of their wives, so Marty launched his own campaign for Ruth’s nomination. “I wasn’t very good at promotion, but Marty was,” Ruth told PBS’s Gwen Ifill, adding that he was “tireless” leveraging his own network of lawyers, media columnists, and politicians. After she got the nomination, Ginsburg said of her husband: “I have been aided by my life’s partner, Martin D. Ginsburg, who has been, since our teenage years, my best friend and biggest booster.” The line “I married my best friend” has been contorted into near-satire on social media, but in the Ginsburgs’ case, the best friendship feels purely true.
Ruth’s ascent to Supreme Court Justice meant eclipsing her husband at the very top of their shared field, but he showed no evidence of having a fragile ego. “The thing about Marty was that he had such confidence in himself and he never regarded me as any kind of a threat,” Ginsburg later said. Marty was only the second-ever husband of a SCOTUS justice—after Sandra Day O’Connor’s husband, John. Together, the two were said to joke that they were members of the Denis Thatcher Society (named for Margaret’s husband) of men whose wives have “a job which deep in your heart you wish you had,” according to Time. But Marty added, “Now let me just say that in my case it is not true. Only because I really don’t like work. She works like fury all the time. The country’s better off as it is.”
When the SCOTUS spouses (mostly wives) gathered for lunch, “I remember being surprised when I realized his dishes weren’t catered,” said Cathleen Douglas Stone, widow of William O. Douglas. People seem to wonder, a little taken aback, how ever a first gentleman would manage all of the domestic labor of the East Wing—the china selections and state dinners and Easter Egg rolls. Let Marty Ginsburg be the exemplar: He leaned into the role of first SCOTUS spouse in all of its domestic glory, just like any woman with a graduate degree and careers of her own has been expected to do. According to The Notorious R.B.G., “On each clerk’s birthday, Marty would bake a cake—almond or chocolate, sometimes ginger, lemon, or carrot. [Ruth] would leave a to-the-point note: ‘It’s your birthday, so Marty baked a cake. ’ ”
Sixty-six years after the Ginsburgs married, the world still needs more Martys. For all of the legal progress RBG made for both sexes (including establishing the legal concept of sex discrimination itself), marriage and motherhood still do not tend to benefit women’s careers. A recent New Yorker cartoon showed a man on bended knee, mid-marriage proposal, captioned: “Would you do me the honor of taking on even more responsibilities while my life remains largely unchanged?” It’s funny because it’s true: Men are still paid more, and, as such, their careers are often given more weight, prone to subsuming those of their wives. Even when women do work, they often do double-duty, shouldering more housework and childcare (a dynamic magnified by the pandemic) than male partners. By these limitations, there is little opportunity for women’s careers to thrive. Unless—unless!—her partner is a Marty. Every aspiring Ruth deserves one: a man who doesn’t just support her in theory but in practice; who loves her brain and knows his way around the kitchen. Ruth’s legacy is certainly a beacon for us, but Marty’s should be too.
The story is widely known now: Shortly before Marty’s death in 2010, he wrote a letter on a legal pad and left it in the drawer next to his hospital bed. It read: “My dearest Ruth, you are the only person I have loved in my life. Setting aside a bit parents and kids, and their kids.” Included in some of his parting words to his wife and best friend of five decades was an expression of his pride in her accomplishments: ”What a treat it has been,” he wrote, “to watch you progress to the very top of the legal world.”
Pois é, eu me lembro claramente que o tal ministro prometeu reduzir a "festa" do Sistema S, mas até agora, ao que parece, não fez nada.
Trata-se, simplesmente, do MAIOR SINDICATO DE LADRÕES PATRONAIS que existe no Brasil, a pretexto de "cumprir funções sociais", ou seja, formar mão de obra capacitada.
O problema é que o custo dessa formação extravasa para os salários NABABESCOS dos dirigentes e funcionários privilegiados.
Se não existisse o Sistema S, o Brasil deixaria de contar com mão de obra especializada?
Não acredito. Outros países não têm esse sistema predatório que nós criamos sob a ditadura corporatista do varguismo.
Paulo Roberto de Almeida
Megassalários do Sistema "S" chegam ao máximo de R$ 176 mil
As ilhas de fartura não estão apenas em Brasília. Mantido por contribuições sociais, o chamado Sistema “S” – composto por Sesi, Senai, Sesc, Senai e Sebrae – tem pelo menos 45 salários acima de R$ 50 mil. A maior faixa salarial, para consultor técnico do Senac-SP, vai de R$ 57 mil a R$ 132 mil – mais de quatro vezes o salário do presidente da República. Tem vaga ainda maior, para consultor técnico V – de R$ 75 mil a R$ 177 mi – mas não está preenchida.
No Sesi do Paraná, o salário do diretor geral está na faixa de R$ 66 mil a R$ 99 mil. No Sesc de São Paulo, a maior renda, de consultor especial, vai de R$ 61 mil a R$ 99 mil. A remuneração é divulgada por cargos e faixas salariais para preservar a “intimidade” dos empregados. Os cargos de diretores, gerentes, consultores e assessores são de confiança, preenchidos sem processos seletivos. No Sesc do Rio de Janeiro, o cargo de “atleta III”, na faixa salarial de R$ 60 mil a R$ 250 mil, não está preenchido.
Levantamento feito pelo blog mostra que o Sistema “S” arrecada pelo menos R$ 25 bilhões por ano – sendo 75% originado de contribuições sociais pagas pela Indústria e pelo Comércio. Metade das despesas são geradas por salários e encargos sociais dos seus 130 mil empregados. Os orçamentos são enviados ao presidente da República e fiscalizados pelo Tribunal de Contas da União (TCU), que analisa se os recursos atendem às suas finalidades. Como são entidades privadas, os salários dos empregados não são submetidos ao teto constitucional. Os seus dirigentes não são remunerados.
Maiores salários em São Paulo e no Rio
A maior concentração de altos salários acontece no Departamento Nacional do Senac – Serviço Nacional de Aprendizagem Comercial. Além da maior faixa salarial e da maior vaga não preenchida, há dois cargos de consultor técnico III vagos, com salário inicial de R$ 42,8 mil e salário máximo de R$ 100 mil. Mas estão preenchidas três vagas de consultor técnico II, na faixa de R$ 37,6 mil a R$ 87,7 mil, e uma vaga de assessor V, com renda de R$ 28,6 mil a R$ 66 mil. Há, ainda, 10 outros cargos de gerente e de assessor, ocupados por 31 empregados, com salário máximo de R$ 34 mil a R$ 54 mil.
No Sesi – Serviço Social da Indústria – do Rio de Janeiro, a maior renda é do superintendente, com “ponto inicial” de R$ 51 mil e “ponto final” de R$ 89 mil. Há dois cargos, diretor de Compliance e diretor Firjan, com renda de R$ 49 mil a R$ 70 mil. O mesmo nível salarial é mantido no Senai – Serviço Nacional de Aprendizagem Nacional – do Rio. O diretor regional tem renda de R$ 51 mil a R$ 83 mil. Os diretores de Compliance e de Gestão de Pessoas recebem de R$ 40 mil a R$ 69,7 mil.
No Senac do Rio, o diretor está na faixa de R$ 37 mil a R$ 73 mil. No Departamento Nacional do Sesc – Serviço Social do Comércio, há 23 “cargos em comissão” com salário inicial de R$ 32 mil e final de R$ 64 mil. No Senac Nacional, há 12 desses cargos com valores entre R$ 34 mil e R$ 64 mil. O blog solicitou o valor exato pago a cada diretor, gerente ou assessor, mas as entidades mantiveram a informação por faixas salariais.
Cargos secundários atrativos
Varia muito o valor dos salários dos diretores dos departamentos nacionais e das administrações regionais. O diretor do Departamento Nacional do Senai, por exemplo, tem renda na faixa de R$ 37 mil a R$ 60 mil. No Sesc do Rio de Janeiro, o diretor regional recebe entre R$ 50 mil e R$ 77 mil. A faixa salarial do diretor regional de Santa Catarina é bastante ampla, vai de R$ 17,5 mil a R$ 71 mil, o que impede a aferição do valor real do salário. Já no Senai do mesmo estado, varia de R$ 47 mil a R$ 64 mil. No Senai do Rio Grande do Sul, vai de R$ 48 mil a R$ 56 mil. No Sesc do Espírito Santo, de R$ 37 mil a R$ 52 mil.
Os salários de alguns cargos secundários também são bastante atrativos. No Sesc do Rio de Janeiro, os diretores de Comunicação e de Planejamento têm renda de R$ 36 mil a R$ 54 mil. Já o diretor de Programas Sociais recebe entre R$ 42 mil e R$ 65 mil. No Sesc de São Paulo, 28 ocupantes de cargos de consultor técnico II e gerente IV têm renda entre R$ 38 mil e R$ 61 mil. O diretor de Inovação do Senai de Santa Catarina está na faixa de R$ 43 mil e R$ 52 mil. No Senac do Ceará, o assessor chefa da Presidência tem renda entre R$ 37 mil e R$ 56 mil.
O Sebrae - Serviço Brasileiro de Apoio às Micro e Pequenas Empresas – tem apenas quatro remunerações máximas acima do teto constitucional remuneratório (R$ 39,3 mil). São pagos a diretores do Departamento Nacional (de R$ 46 mil, a R$ 53 mil) e das administrações regionais do Paraná (de R$ 44,6 mil a R$ 51,7 mil), de Minas Gerais (de R$ 43,8 mil a R$ 50,8 mil), de São Paulo (de R$ 44,4 mil a R$ 50,5 mil) e do Rio de Janeiro (R$ 39 mil a R$ 43,4 mil).
Faixas salariais autorizadas pelo TCU
O Sesc afirmou ao blog que a divulgação da sua estrutura remuneratória segue o Acórdão 699/2016 do TCU, que estabelece a publicação por faixas salariais. Acrescentou que é uma instituição privada, sem fins lucrativos, com recursos provenientes do recolhimento compulsório de 1,5% calculado sobre a folha de pagamento das empresas do setor, como prevê a Constituição federal.
O Sesi e o Senai afirmaram que as informações sobre cargos e faixa salarial “observa a natureza privada do Sesi e do Senai. Os seus empregados são celetistas e, diferentemente dos servidores públicos, o acesso aos seus salários goza de proteção constitucional, pois inseridos no rol dos direitos individuais protegidos pelo sigilo e pela intimidade. E os seus dirigentes não são remunerados”.
O Senac do Rio de Janeiro disse que “as faixas salariais apresentadas atendem às exigências de transparência implicadas ao Senac, resguardando informações salariais e pessoais do corpo técnico de colaboradores e gestores da instituição”.
O Senac São Paulo afirmou ser auditado anualmente por órgãos internos e externos e sua política salarial “segue as normas legais com base em parâmetros de mercado. Seus preceitos são de responsabilidade em relação às informações, tornando-as públicas pelo site Portal da Transparência”.
O Sesc do Rio disse que as faixas salariais apresentadas atendem às exigências de transparência, “resguardando informações salariais e pessoais do corpo técnico de colaboradores e gestores da instituição”.
Dinheiro público ou privado?
Num primeiro contato com o blog, os integrantes do Sistema “S” destacaram o fato de serem entidades de direito privado. Como não são empresas públicas, não seguem as normas de privacidade estabelecidas para servidores públicos. O blog lembrou que, mesmo sendo de direito privado, essas entidades administraram verbas públicas, no caso, as contribuições sociais, cuja aplicação é fiscalizada pelo TCU.
O Sesi e o Senai, em nota conjunta ao blog, afirmaram que “o fato de prestarem contas ao poder público da aplicação dos seus recursos não retira do Sesi e do Senai a natureza privada nem os equipara a uma entidade ou órgão público. De fato, como o recurso é compulsoriamente arrecadado das empresas, cabe ao poder público verificar se as contribuições destinadas estão sendo aplicadas nas atividades que a legislação de criação dessas entidades estabeleceu. Como você igualmente bem observou, a legislação estabelece momentos e atores distintos para exercer esse controle finalístico”.
Num primeiro tempo, segundo relato das duas entidades, a lei remete ao presidente da República o orçamento do Sesi e do Senai, justamente para verificar se as suas dotações estão alinhadas aos propósitos institucionais dessas entidades. No segundo tempo, no exercício financeiro seguinte, o TCU aprecia como se deu a execução orçamentária, ou seja, se os recursos foram bem geridos e destinados para o atendimento das finalidades institucionais.
“Nada disso contamina a natureza e a gestão privada do Sesi e do Sena”, diz a nota conjunta. “Note que o parágrafo único do art. 70 da Constituição, base para a validade da legislação infraconstitucional mencionada por você, estabelece que qualquer pessoa que gerencie e administre dinheiro público prestará contas do destino dado a ele. Até pessoa física prestará contas (é o caso dos bolsistas da Capes, por exemplo)”.
"A natureza dos recursos pouco imposta"
O Sesc afirmou: “Cabe ressaltar que o entendimento sobre a natureza jurídica das entidades sociais autônomas foi ratificado por Acórdão do Supremo Tribunal Federal (STF), no Recurso Extraordinário 789.874/2014, que assegura autonomia administrativa às entidades, que são sujeitas apenas ao controle finalístico pelo TCU da aplicação dos recursos recebidos”.
O blog também lembrou que o Senac administra verbas públicas e perguntou se salários de até R$ 130 mil e R$ 170 mil não estariam acima da realidade do país. A resposta: “A discussão sobre a natureza dos recursos parafiscais pouco importa: o Senac reconhece que este é um dinheiro carimbado, que deve e o é aplicado em favor do interesse público. E é importante esclarecer que o TCU realiza a fiscalização e o controle no que tange atividade finalística das Instituições do Serviços Sociais Autônomos nos termos do entendimento do STF”.
Mas acrescentou: “Somos uma Instituição de direito privado, porém, livre iniciativa não quer dizer ausência de regras. O Plano de Cargos e Salários do Departamento Nacional reúne um conjunto de normas e procedimentos que atendem aos interesses da instituição e à necessidade de se manter adequada às tendências do mercado de trabalho”.
A presidência Trump, antes mesmo de começar, sob a influência de Steve Bannon, sempre esteve ativamente interessada no desmantelamento do “Estado administrativo”, por eles chamado de “deep State”. Um dos serviços mais afetados foi a diplomacia, com uma desorganização completa do Department of State.
A administração Bolsonaro, ativamente representada pelo patético chanceler acidental, parece estar empenhado em fazer o mesmo com o Itamaraty. Fiz o relato da destruição da inteligência e de todo o resto no Itamaraty em três dos meus livros: Miséria da diplomacia (2019), O Itamaraty num labirinto de sombras e Uma certa ideia do Itamaraty (2020).
Guarding the U.S. embassy in Baghdad, Iraq, January 2020
Kyle Tabot / New York Times / Redux
We joined the U.S. Foreign Service nearly 40 years ago in the same entering class, but we took very different paths to get there. One of us grew up amid hardship and segregation in the Deep South, the first in her family to graduate from high school, a Black woman joining a profession that was still very male and very pale. The other was the product of an itinerant military childhood that took his family from one end of the United States to the other, with a dozen moves and three high schools by the time he was 17.
There were 32 of us in the Foreign Service’s class of January 1982. It was an eclectic group that included former Peace Corps volunteers, military veterans, a failed rock musician, and an ex–Catholic priest. None of us retained much from the procession of enervating speakers describing their particular islands in the great archipelago of U.S. foreign policy. What we did learn early on, and what stayed true throughout our careers, is that smart and sustained investment in people is the key to good diplomacy. Well-intentioned reform efforts over the years were crippled by faddishness, budgetary pressures, the over-militarization of foreign policy, the State Department’s lumbering bureaucracy, a fixation on structure, and—most of all—inattention to people.
The Trump administration also learned early on that people matter, and so it made them the primary target of what the White House aide Steve Bannon termed “the deconstruction of the administrative state.” That is what has made the administration’s demolition of the State Department and so many other government institutions so effective and ruinous. Tapping into popular distrust of expertise and public institutions, President Donald Trump has made career public servants—government meteorologists, public health specialists, law enforcement professionals, career diplomats—convenient targets in the culture wars. Taking aim at an imaginary “deep state,” he has instead created a weak state, an existential threat to the country’s democracy and the interests of its citizens.
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The wreckage at the State Department runs deep. Career diplomats have been systematically sidelined and excluded from senior Washington jobs on an unprecedented scale. The picture overseas is just as grim, with the record quantity of political appointees serving as ambassadors matched by their often dismal quality. The most recent ambassador in Berlin, Richard Grenell, seemed intent on antagonizing as many Germans as he could—not only with ornery lectures but also through his support for far-right political parties. The ambassador in Budapest, David Cornstein, has developed a terminal case of “clientitis,” calling Hungary’s authoritarian, civil-liberties-bashing leader “the perfect partner.” And the U.S. ambassador to Iceland, Jeffrey Ross Gunter, has churned through career deputies at a stunning pace, going through no fewer than seven in less than two years at his post.
In Washington, career public servants who worked on controversial issues during the Obama administration, such as the Iran nuclear negotiations, have been smeared and attacked, their careers derailed. Colleagues who upheld their constitutional oaths during the Ukraine impeachment saga were maligned and abandoned by their own leadership. In May, the State Department’s independent inspector general, Steve Linick, was fired after doing what his job required him to do: opening an investigation into Secretary of State Mike Pompeo’s alleged personal use of government resources. Battered and belittled, too many career officials have been tempted to go along to get along. That undercuts not only morale but also a policy process that depends on apolitical experts airing contrary views, however inconvenient they may be to the politically appointed leadership.
Pompeo in Washington, D.C., December 2019
Yuri Gripas / Reuters
Not surprisingly, the Foreign Service has experienced the biggest drop in applications in more than a decade. Painfully slow progress on recruiting a more diverse workforce has slid into reverse. It is a depressing fact that today only four of the 189 U.S. ambassadors abroad are Black—hardly a convincing recruiting pitch for woefully underrepresented communities.
No amount of empty rhetoric about ethos and swagger can conceal the institutional damage. After four years of relentless attacks by the Trump administration and decades of neglect, political paralysis, and organizational drift, U.S. diplomacy is badly broken. But it is not beyond repair, at least not yet. What is needed now is a great renewal of diplomatic capacity, an effort that balances ambition with the limits of the possible at a moment of growing difficulties at home and abroad. The aim should be not to restore the power and purpose of U.S. diplomacy as it once was but to reinvent it for a new era. Accomplishing that transformation demands a focused, disciplined reform effort—one that is rooted in the people who animate U.S. diplomacy.
REFORM AND RENEWAL
The State Department is capable of reform. The challenge has always been to link that reform to wise statecraft and adequate funding. After 9/11, with uncommon speed and few additional resources, the department managed to retrofit itself to help prosecute the war on terrorism and take on the new imperatives of stabilization and reconstruction in Afghanistan and Iraq, along with smaller but still complex missions from sub-Saharan Africa to Southeast Asia. New training and incentives were put into play, and a generation of career Foreign Service officers was shaped by tours in conflict zones. Diplomats quickly became secondary players to the military, preoccupied with the kind of nation-building activities that were beyond the capacity of Americans to accomplish. It was easy to lose sight of the distinctive role of the U.S. Foreign Service—the classic, head-banging work of persuading senior national leaders to bridge sectarian divides and pursue a more inclusive political order while standing up for human rights.
Although the transformation of the State Department into a more expeditionary and agile institution was healthy in many respects, it was also distorting. It was tethered to a fundamentally flawed strategy—one that was too narrowly focused on terrorism and too wrapped up in magical thinking about the United States’ supposed power to transform regions and societies. It paid too little attention to a rapidly changing international landscape in which geopolitical competition with a rising China and a resurgent Russia was accelerating and mammoth global challenges, such as climate change, were looming. It also neglected what was happening at home—the powerful storms of globalization that had left many communities and parts of the economy underwater and would soon overwhelm the United States’ political levees.
After four years of attacks by the Trump administration, U.S. diplomacy is badly broken.
The contours of a new agenda for diplomatic reform have to flow from a sensible reinvention of the United States’ role in the world. The restoration of American hegemony is not in the cards, given China’s rise and the diffusion of global power. Retrenchment is similarly illusory, since the United States cannot insulate itself from outside challenges that matter enormously to its domestic health and security.
Instead, U.S. diplomacy has to accept the country’s diminished, but still pivotal, role in global affairs. It has to apply greater restraint and discipline; it must develop a greater awareness of the United States’ position and more humility about the wilting power of the American example. It has to reflect the overriding priority of accelerating domestic renewal and strengthening the American middle class, at a time of heightened focus on racial injustice and economic inequality. And it has to take aim at other crucial priorities. One is to mobilize coalitions to deal with transnational challenges and ensure greater resilience in American society to the inevitable shocks of climate change, cyberthreats, and pandemics. Another is to organize wisely for geopolitical competition with China.
INVESTING IN PEOPLE
The ultimate measure of any reform effort is whether it attracts, unlocks, retains, and invests in talent. The last thing the State Department needs is another armada of consultants descending on Foggy Bottom with fancy slide decks full of new ideas about how the department should look. It’s time to focus on—and listen to—the people who drive U.S. diplomacy: the Foreign Service professionals who rotate through posts around the world, the civil service employees whose expertise anchors the department at home, and the foreign-national staff who drive so much of the work of U.S. embassies and consulates.
To start, the United States needs a top-to-bottom diplomatic surge. The Trump administration’s unilateral diplomatic disarmament is a reminder that it is much easier to break than to build. The country doesn’t have the luxury of waiting for a generational replenishment, marking time as new recruits slowly work their way up the ranks. Since 2017, nearly a quarter of the senior Foreign Service has left. That includes the departure of 60 percent of career ambassadors, the equivalent of four-star generals in the military. In the junior and midcareer ranks, the picture is also bleak. According to the Federal Employee Viewpoint Survey, as many as a third of current employees in some parts of the State Department are considering leaving—more than double the share in 2016.
The United States needs a top-to-bottom diplomatic surge.
A diplomatic surge will have to incorporate ideas that in the past have seemed heretical to the department and its career staff but that today are inescapable. These include bringing back select personnel with critical expertise who were forced out over the past four years; creating midcareer pathways into the Foreign Service, including lateral entry from the civil service; and offering opportunities for Americans with unique skills (in new technologies or global health, for example) to serve their country through fixed-term appointments. Another useful initiative would be to create a “diplomatic reserve corps” made up of former Foreign Service and civil service midlevel officers and spouses with professional experience who could take on shorter or fixed-term assignments abroad and in Washington. Still another idea would be to create an ROTC-like program for college students, an initiative that would broaden understanding of the diplomatic profession across society and provide financial support to those preparing for diplomatic careers.
All these ideas would have landed in the “too hard” pile when we were serving. But the reality today is that the State Department simply cannot afford to continue its bad habits of offering inflexible career tracks, imposing self-defeating hiring constraints, and encouraging tribal inbreeding among its cloistered ranks.
Another major priority is the need to treat the lack of diversity in the diplomatic corps as a national security crisis. It not only undermines the power of the United States’ example; it also suffocates the potential of the country’s diplomacy. Study after study has shown that more diverse organizations are more effective and innovative organizations. At the very moment when American diplomacy could benefit most from fresh perspectives and a closer connection to the American people, the diplomatic corps is becoming increasingly homogeneous and detached, undercutting the promotion of American interests and values.
Another priority is the need to treat the lack of diversity in the diplomatic corps as a national security crisis.
The top four ranks of the Foreign Service are whiter today than they were two decades ago; only ten percent are people of color. Just seven percent of the overall Foreign Service is made up of Black people, and just seven percent are Hispanic—well below each group’s representation in the U.S. labor force. Meanwhile, the Trump administration has reversed a more than quarter-century-long push to appoint more female ambassadors. Overall female representation in the Foreign Service remains roughly the same today as it was in 2000—still 25 percent below female representation in the wider U.S. labor force. These trends have effectively undone much of the progress made following the settlement of two class-action discrimination suits shortly after we entered the Foreign Service.
The State Department should make an unambiguous commitment that by 2030, America’s diplomats will, at long last, resemble the country they represent. Achieving this goal will require making diversity a key feature of the diplomatic surge at every point along the career pipeline. It will demand an unshakable commitment to diverse candidates and gender parity in senior appointments. And it will require the State Department’s leadership to hold itself accountable by not only getting departmental data in order and making the information accessible to the public but acting on it, as well, with clear annual benchmarks for progress. Lower promotion rates for racial and ethnic minorities and the precipitous drop-off in the number of women and minorities in the senior ranks are flashing red warning lights of structural discrimination.
The State Department ought to invest much more in mentorship, coaching, and diversity and inclusion training. It has to make its career track more responsive to the expectations of today’s workforce for a work-life balance rather than perpetuate the imbalance that has prevented too many talented Americans—disproportionally those from underrepresented groups—from serving their country. The department has to pay more attention to the particular hazards facing minorities serving overseas, including LGBTQ employees. And it has to revise its promotion criteria to require personnel to foster diverse, inclusive, and equitable workplaces.
The top four ranks of the Foreign Service are whiter today than they were two decades ago.
To succeed in both a serious diplomatic surge and a historic new campaign for diversity and inclusion, the department must commit to winning the war for talent. The entrance exams to the Foreign Service are designed to weed out candidates rather than recruit the most talented ones. Too much of a premium is placed on written and oral examinations and too little on a candidate’s résumé, academic performance, skills, expertise, and life experiences. The whole process can seem interminable—taking as long as two years from start to finish and inadvertently benefiting candidates who have the means to hold out. After hiring their diplomats, the most effective diplomatic services spend up to three years training them. The Foreign Service Institute still spends only six weeks testing the mettle of its recruits; the only real difference from our experience many years ago is that the tedious lectures now feature PowerPoint presentations.
Once on assignment, there is no rigorous, doctrinal approach to the art of diplomacy and no system for after-action reviews. The personnel evaluation process consumes three months of an officer’s time, with no commensurate accountability for, let alone improvement in, individual or collective performance. Opportunities for midcareer graduate or professional education are scarce and carry little weight with promotion panels. The effect is often to penalize employees who receive extra training or undertake assignments to other agencies or to Congress. They should be rewarded instead.
Senior leadership positions are increasingly out of reach for career personnel. Over the past few decades, the proportion of political appointees to career appointees at the State Department, reaching down to the deputy assistant secretary level, has grown far higher than at any other national security agency. That worrisome trend—like so many others during the Trump era—has worsened dramatically. Today, only one of the 28 positions at the assistant secretary level at the State Department is filled by an active-duty career officer confirmed by the U.S. Senate—the lowest number ever. A record share of ambassadors are also political appointees as opposed to professional diplomats, a significant blow to morale and to diplomatic effectiveness. In a reformed State Department, at least half the assistant secretary jobs and three-quarters of the ambassadorial appointments should be held by well-qualified career officers. The remaining political appointments should be driven by substantive qualifications and diversity considerations, not campaign donations.
Political appointments should be driven by qualifications and diversity considerations, not campaign donations.
To unlock its potential, the State Department must increase its staffing pipelines to deepen its officers’ command of core diplomatic skills and fluency in areas of growing importance, such as climate change, technology, public health, and humanitarian diplomacy. In the traditional area of economics, the State Department must strengthen its capabilities significantly—working closely with the Commerce and Treasury Departments—and promote the interests of American workers with the same zeal with which it has promoted the interests of corporate America.
The State Department also needs to rethink how and where it invests in language studies. One out of every four positions designated as requiring foreign-language skills is filled by an officer who does not in fact meet the minimum language requirements. The State Department trains nearly twice as many Portuguese speakers as it does Arabic or Chinese speakers. It should expand opportunities for midcareer graduate studies and incentivize continuous learning as a requirement for promotion. It should also streamline the evaluation process by determining personnel assignments on the basis of performance, expertise, and leadership development rather than through a process of competitive, careerist bidding built on connections and “corridor,” or word-of-mouth, reputations.
A NEW CULTURE
Part of investing in people means investing in the technology that allows them to realize their full potential. A more digital, agile, collaborative, and data-centric diplomatic corps depends on more robust and secure communications tools. Today, too many diplomats lack access to classified systems and technology, especially on the road. That leaves them more vulnerable to foreign intelligence and unable to keep up with other U.S. national security agencies. The COVID-19 pandemic has thrown into sharp relief the need to reimagine how to conduct diplomacy remotely or virtually.
Technology can no longer be seen as a luxury good for diplomacy. The last big technological push at the State Department came during Colin Powell’s tenure as secretary of state, nearly two decades ago, when the department began to set aside its mini-fridge-sized desktop computers and move cautiously into the modern age. It is long past time for another major effort. To enhance the department’s technological platforms, the State Department should appoint a chief technology officer reporting directly to the secretary of state. That official should work with the U.S. Digital Service—an information technology consulting group within the executive branch that was created in 2014—to make internal systems, foreign aid, and public diplomacy more effective. Just as the department’s chief economist helps diplomats understand the impact of global economic trends on U.S. interests, the chief technology officer should help diplomats grapple with disruptive technologies and leverage private-sector talent.
But technology is not the only—or the most important—aspect of the State Department’s culture that must change. A systemic reluctance to tolerate physical risk has led to the proliferation of fortress-style embassies that can trap personnel behind chancery walls and isolate them from the people they should be meeting, not only foreign officials but also members of civil society. This has also led to an ever-growing number of posts where officers can’t be joined by family members, shorter tours, misaligned assignment incentives, lower morale, and less effective diplomacy.
A torpid bureaucratic culture is no less significant. Policy information and recommendations often amass 15 or more sign-offs before reaching the secretary of state’s office, suffocating initiative and stifling debate. Unstaffed Foreign Service positions create an imbalance between Washington and the field that prevents decentralized decision-making. And a rigid promotion structure incentivizes careerism over political or moral bravery.
Technology can no longer be seen as a luxury good for diplomacy.
A seismic cultural shift is needed to create a more upstanding, courageous, and agile institution, with greater tolerance for risk and a simplified, decentralized decision-making process. The State Department must get out of its own way—delegating responsibility downward in Washington and outward to qualified chiefs of mission overseas and reducing the number of undersecretaries and top-level staff members to avoid duplicative authority and inefficiencies. Initiative should be prized, and the passive-aggressive habit of waiting for guidance from above should be discouraged.
The department ought to discard the current cumbersome process for clearing papers and policy recommendations and start from scratch. A new, more flexible framework would allow expertise in Washington and in the field to be quickly distilled into cogent policy proposals and would grant embassies in the field more autonomy to implement the resulting decisions. The State Department’s leaders must also offer political top cover for constructive dissent, supplanting the corrosive “keep your head down” culture with an “I have your back” mentality—in other words, the exact opposite of how the State Department treated its diplomats during the 2019 impeachment hearings.
CHANGE THAT LASTS
Any effort to reform the State Department should start from within. It should focus in the first year of a new administration or a new term on what can be accomplished under existing authorities and without significant new appropriations. That is the moment of greatest opportunity to set a new direction—and the moment of greatest vulnerability to the habitual traps of bureaucratic inertia, overly elaborate and time-consuming restructuring plans, partisan bickering, and distracting forays into the capillaries of reform rather than its arteries.
If the department can take the initiative and demonstrate progress on its own, that would be the best advertisement for sustained congressional support and White House backing for a new emphasis on diplomacy. It would be the best way to show that U.S. diplomats are ready to earn their way back to a more central role. It could help generate momentum for a rebalancing of national security budget priorities at a moment when U.S. rivals are not standing still; in recent years, the Chinese have doubled their spending on diplomacy and greatly expanded their presence overseas.
With a sturdy foundation of reforms laid, the next step would be to codify them in the first major congressional legislation on U.S. diplomacy in 40 years. The last Foreign Service Act, passed in 1980, modernized the mission and structure of the State Department, building on acts from 1924 and 1946. A new act would be crucial to making reforms durable. It would also help shape a style of diplomacy that is fit for an increasingly competitive international landscape and better equipped to serve the priority of domestic renewal. Serious, lasting transformation of U.S. diplomacy will be very hard. But it matters enormously to the future of American democracy in an unforgiving world.
A rigid promotion structure incentivizes careerism over political or moral bravery.
We both bear the professional scars, and have enjoyed the rewards, of many eventful years as career diplomats. We saw plenty of examples of skill and bravery among our colleagues in hard situations around the world—from the horrific genocidal violence of Rwanda and the epic turmoil of post-Soviet Russia in the 1990s to the later challenges of ambassadorial postings in Liberia after its civil war and in Jordan in the midst of a once-in-a-half-century royal succession. We saw how U.S. diplomats can produce tangible results, whether by holding secret talks with adversaries, mobilizing other countries to ease the plight of refugees, or promoting American jobs and economic opportunities.
Through it all, however, we still remember vividly the sense of possibility and shared commitment to public service that drew the two of us and 30 other proud Americans to our Foreign Service entering class all those years ago. Today, there is a new generation of diplomats capable of taking up that challenge—if only they are given a State Department and a mission worthy of their ambitions and of the country they will represent.