The influence paradox

Perhaps the most influential audience in modern geopolitics is not the one that sits in the parliament, presidential palace, or military headquarters. Perhaps it is just sitting on the couch, scrolling.

This was a ludicrous notion even a generation ago. Nations used to conduct diplomacy towards governments and military strategy towards armies. The citizenry was an afterthought in geopolitical competition. They were informed of, mobilised, and sometimes swayed, but they were never seen as the end goal. They are now.

Governments find themselves communicating with and over each other straight into their respective societies. They foster favourable influencers, construct digital environments, support international media outlets and vie for attention within online worlds where borders have become increasingly blurred.

Strategic communications is no longer a supplementary tool for statecraft but has become one of its main tools. This change is paradoxical in itself because never before have states had so many opportunities to address global audiences, while these audiences have never been so cynical about institutions trying to address them. Influence has never been so highly valued and so hard to obtain at the same time. This paradox defines modern geopolitics.

The key idea behind modern strategic communications seems to be quite straightforward: more visibility will lead to more influence. In other words, if the state becomes better at communicating its ideas and attracting bigger audiences, then it can shape people’s perception of it. Yet reality proved to be more difficult.

It can be clearly seen in the Russia-Ukraine War, where both sides have spent considerable effort trying to influence how the war is viewed by international public opinion. Governments, journalists, analysts, military experts and social media celebrities participate in an equally important race, which goes along with the actual war. Every battlefield turn is promptly turned into a story for people far away from the front lines.

However, despite the massive amount of information available, consensus does not come easy. The same event can be interpreted completely differently, based on the ideological background of the observer. In some ways, access to the information did not lead to agreement; it only increased differences between people.

It can be clearly seen in the case of the Israel-Gaza conflict as well. Media images, personal stories, and videos get spread globally in a matter of minutes. People are seeing the events almost live as they happen. However, this does not lead to reaching a consensus; people become even more divided.

That would imply that strategic communication faces a challenge that the earlier generations of decision-makers never had to deal with. Because the issue here is not the issue of access any longer. The issue is the issue of credibility.

For most of modern times, lack of information was the source of power for governments and media organisations. Information scarcity meant that governments and broadcasters enjoyed the exclusive right to communicate their message to the audience. Their story could always be challenged, but never ignored. The digital era has changed this equation.

Access is no longer the source of power. Authority needs to work in an environment filled with other voices, different opinions and motivations that favour emotions over analysis.

Any official narrative becomes a part of the same information field where there are videos going viral, anonymous speakers, opinion leaders, and even AI-created stories. And official narratives are not the only players on the field anymore.

As a consequence of this change, a unique strategic dilemma has been created. While the ability of countries to communicate has increased, their capacity for controlling the perception of their messages has decreased. This is an essential aspect. Communicating to an audience is not the same as persuading an audience.

Indeed, too much communication might actually decrease the effectiveness of persuasion. Over-communication, especially when it appears to be manipulative, can cause scepticism among people rather than building trust.

People understand communication messages in their own partisan, ideological or cultural context before they actually receive the message. As a result, a geopolitical landscape emerges in which influence cannot be assessed simply by visibility. There is no shortage of attention. But there is a lack of trust.

This explains why governments have turned towards non-traditional communicators. Influencers, content creators, culture makers and independent commentators often enjoy a kind of credibility that institutions do not have. The credibility of these individuals gives them access to audiences that institutional entities cannot easily reach.

It is an indicator of a deeper transformation taking place in the nature of influence. Power is not becoming hierarchical anymore; it is becoming more networked.

This does not mean that the role of states is becoming less relevant in international politics. On the contrary. But the way they exercise influence is changing. Traditional means of diplomacy, like diplomatic cables, briefings, press conferences, remain relevant but they also coexist with new sources of information like podcasts, social media and digital communities.

In an era of fracturing public trust, what happens to persuasion as an instrument of governance? In an era where citizens depend on decentralised information channels, how should states convey their messages during emergencies? In an era of unlimited information but declining trust in its sources, can strategic communication accomplish its aims?

There are no quick answers to these questions.

One thing that we know for sure, however, is that the communication environment which was the basis of statecraft in the twentieth century, has changed irreversibly. It is impossible for governments anymore to assume that access equals influence, that visibility equals credibility or that information equals persuasion. The irony of the age of the Internet is that humankind has solved the issue of communication, but created the problem of trust even further.

In the realm of geopolitics, trust may be the most valuable asset. The states that thrive in the coming decades will not necessarily be those that speak the loudest. They will be those that remain believable when everyone else is speaking too.