The State of the Nonstate?

Private transnational groups are not new, but a new and intense focus on them emerged in the 1990s as part of the growing attention to nonstate actors. The United Nations defines an “NGO” as “a not-for-profit group, principally independent from government, which is organized on a local, national, or international level to address issues in support of the public good.” ^{Footnote 3} International NGOs (INGOs) work in more than three or more countries, according to the Union of International Associations, and over the past 20 years the number of INGOs has almost tripled, reaching more than 55,000 in 2010. ^{Footnote 4}

These definitions of INGOs are widely cited but also problematic. First, they are overly inclusive. The aforementioned definitions include such groups as the International Organization for Standardization (ISO) and the International Chamber of Commerce (ICC), private actors that may be very influential but have a different form of power than groups such as Doctors without Borders and the World Conservation Union. ^{Footnote 5} Second, the definition emphasizes formal legal status, when in fact many NGOs are not registered as nonprofits. In fact, social recognition rather than legal status may be much more important for an INGO’s authority: Amnesty International, for example, is registered in Britain as a company and a charity. The public benefit orientation that supposedly distinguishes INGOs is a third area of confusion. Many INGOs respond to a perceived need for which there is often no direct demand; these groups decide what to work on in accordance with their own agendas. Finally, the definition places INGOs in opposition to states; in fact, many INGOs work closely with or through states and intergovernmental organizations (IGOs). These conceptual ambiguities are not merely academic. Scholars who make claims about what INGOs really are often have very different sorts of groups in mind.

Generally, we can organize INGO scholarship into several waves. At the end of the Cold War, a first wave of scholars focused on demonstrating that INGOs were powerful actors in global politics, worthy of serious study. Often depicted as nodes in transnational advocacy networks, INGOs could create external pressure to change state policies, bring new issues like torture to the global agenda, or change social practices around environmental protection and sustainability. ^{Footnote 6} This early work was sympathetic to, or explicitly part of, a constructivist research program that sought to unpack the importance of ideational forces and processes. As such, INGOs were often portrayed as transmission belts for emergent norms, and the emphasis was on the ideational structures that INGOs create and recreate. ^{Footnote 7} The focus was on showing that INGOs influenced political outcomes, but not in a way that systematically evaluated differences in the identities, tactics, or issue areas.

Since the late 1990s, two questions have dominated a second wave of INGO research. First, what do INGOs do and why? Challenging the idea that INGOs are distinctive because of their principled orientation, a number of scholars have suggested that the demands of organizational maintenance, rather than commitment to lofty goals, best explains how INGOs choose to engage in advocacy and service delivery. Second, what is the nature of the relationship between INGOs and the states that have been traditionally the focus of IR scholarship? In fact, states and INGOs can collaborate, compete, or complement one another; INGOs can be instruments of state power at one point while later directly challenging state authority. Outside of a narrow cohort of state-centric realists, IR scholars seem open to the potential power of INGOs in governance while demanding greater specificity around the scope conditions enabling INGO influence and how those opportunities have changed over time.

Within this second wave, a strong structuralist critique offers a challenge to the idea of examining individual INGOs by locating the source of their power in global social processes. In this perspective, the ability of INGOs to make specific principled claims rests on a broader liberal normative framework that legitimates the right of individuals to speak for themselves. Only those INGOs that conform to certain standards—liberal, rationalist, acceptant of the basic legitimacy of markets and states—are recognized as legitimate governors. ^{Footnote 8} In this Foucaultian view, INGOs lack agency within a liberal governmental rationality. Real resistance is very difficult. ^{Footnote 9} While we accept the point that liberal norms facilitate the participation of civil society groups in global political processes, this determinism ignores the fragmentation of the global social structure and the diversity of INGOs within it. INGOs actively advance or resist this liberal rationality: Some INGOs like Amnesty have been at the forefront of the expansion of universal human rights and the responsibility to protect, but others like Focus on the Global South resist this liberalism as imperialistic. Proponents of global civil society, in particular, see much more possibility for change, as the issues promoted by INGOs directly address problems of injustice that are created by sovereign states and liberal free markets. ^{Footnote 10} At the more micro level, there is also substantial variation in the way that INGOs respond to the structural conditions that they face, as the works under review here demonstrate.

Across these several strands of INGO research, one unifying thread is the privileged attention that the INGO—state relationship receives. This relationship is doubtless a critical one, as states enable, constrain, and respond to them. ^{Footnote 11} But INGOs engage all kinds of political actors—IGOs, local communities, multinational corporations, and other INGOs. As Green explains, “governance is expanding: there are multiple loci of authority rather than a single locus that rests with the state” (Rethinking Private Authority, p. 164). Theoretically, therefore, we need greater attention to the diversity of INGOs and the choices that they make. How INGOs define their missions, how they choose different audiences to target, and which strategies they choose to employ help define INGO agency. In turn, these agential qualities shape the INGOs that are able to exercise influence.

INGOs as Agents

INGOs are often portrayed as an increasingly important type of global actor: What type of actions, then, do INGOs take? Both scholars and practitioners separate the work of INGOs into advocacy and service delivery. In actual practice, the divide between advocacy and service delivery is blurred, and many organizations do both or have changed the balance of their activities over time. ^{Footnote 12} Whether pushing for policy changes from states and IGOs, providing ideas and goods to target populations, or some mix of the two, INGOs see advocacy and service delivery as tactics for advancing social change.

One central debate among INGO analysts is over whether and how these practices are shaped by the moral commitments of INGOs. While usually presented as mutually exclusive, NGOs may be motivated by both principles and self -interest. ^{Footnote 13} As Murdie argues, the fact that some INGOs are not principled does not mean that all INGOs are not principled (Help or Harm, p. 239). We ultimately agree with Thomas Risse that INGOs that neglect their principled orientation risk the attribute that makes them distinctive and potentially powerful. ^{Footnote 14} INGOs must maintain their organizational capacity, but their claims to serve others underpin their legitimacy in the eyes of global audiences.

The three books under review offer valuable insight into the various audiences affected by INGO work. Carpenter’s “Lost” Causes concentrates on relationships among INGOs and other members of issue advocacy networks. Murdie’s Help or Harm focuses on the impact of INGOs on populations in developing countries. Finally, in Rethinking Private Authority, Green explores how private actors create or enforce rules that shape the environmental practices of firms and states.

The politics among INGOs were initially neglected, but have been drawn into the spotlight through the works of Carpenter and Clifford Bob. ^{Footnote 15} INGOs often work together in advocacy coalitions to push for policy change, in more or less formal versions of the many networks that connect INGOs. These campaigns—perhaps most famously the International Coalition to Ban Landmines—can be very effective but are not always so. ^{Footnote 16} Precisely how do INGOs interact with one another in these networks? Carpenter has written the statement book on gatekeeping by advocacy INGOs and their effects in “agenda vetting” within the human security and human rights networks. Some INGOs are able to decide the merit of certain issues for global campaigns and eliminate others. These network hubs have kept issues such as male circumcision, compensation for victims of war, and autonomous weapons on the sidelines of global INGO advocacy. The structure of networks directs the way that ideas travel to achieve international support. Perhaps most cogently, Carpenter’s focus groups and network analysis demonstrate how INGOs work with other INGOs: Smaller, less well-known actors can be stifled, and, similarly, larger actors are courted by other INGOs and policymakers. We can clearly observe how, as separate agents interacting in issue-specific networks, some INGOs exercise power over others, but Carpenter also shows how INGOs serve different purposes and therefore bring value to a coalition in distinct ways. ^{Footnote 17}

Complementing Carpenter’s focus on advocacy INGOs working on human security, Murdie explores how both service delivery and advocacy INGOs can “help or harm” populations in need. In her methodologically sophisticated but accessible book, Murdie uses game theory, regression analysis, and illustrative case studies to show that INGOs can improve access to potable water and increase the protection of physical integrity rights. Her general finding is based on careful delineation among different INGOs, both in terms of their varied motivations and their practices. Murdie argues that INGO motivations condition their ability to improve human security. Service INGOs can signal their good intentions by joining voluntary accountability programs, which then increase the support they receive from donors and improve their capacity to provide services. In a chapter on advocacy INGOs, she also argues that they can be effective promoters of some human rights, but finds that INGOs are less likely to succeed when global and local norms are at odds and INGO agendas are biased toward their international donors (Help or Harm, p. 196). Her analysis of the human impact of INGOs ably incorporates structural factors and individual agency. Structural conditions do matter—for example, in countries with high levels of corruption, rent-seeking INGOs are more likely to flourish (ibid., p. 163)—but INGOs also make choices about whether to send costly signals about their motivations, as when they choose to go through the onerous process of applying for consultative status at the United Nations. They come to difficult situations armed with their own interests, and “good” and “bad” INGOs will respond to social and political conditions quite differently.

Beyond political activism and service delivery, INGOs also attempt to create and enforce new rules for global governance. Green’s book examines when and how private actors have authority in the environmental sector. State preferences are important determinants of environmental governance, Green explains, but there can be structural openings that allow INGOs to govern using private authority. Where private actors wield delegated authority, she argues, states must have collectively agreed to delegate authority and agreed upon a specific agent; by contrast, entrepreneurial authority is most likely to emerge when state preferences are heterogeneous, leaving a regulatory vacuum. Examining 152 multilateral environmental treaties over a 150-year period, Green finds that states rarely delegate to private actors. But entrepreneurial authority by private actors has grown substantially; of the 119 environmental civil regulations created between 1950 and 2009, almost 60% (69) were created in 2000 or later (Rethinking Private Authority, p. 92). While Green does not differentiate between firms and NGOs engaged in environmental governance, she suggests that all private actors bring particular strengths to the design of new rules. Private actors, perhaps because of their small size, can promote experimentation; they can build political support for new regulatory models; they can use their expertise to inform better rule-making; and competition among these different rules may ratchet up regulations (ibid., pp. 174–76). Whether private authority is in fact beneficial for environmental protection depends on coordination among “rule makers of all kinds” (ibid., p. 178)— INGOs and beyond.

The Authority of INGOs

Even though the books reviewed here show that the ability of INGOs to draw attention to and command policy space for their concerns attests to their power and authority, we still lack a unified way to conceptualize why and how they do. One promising move is to disaggregate the different bases of authority for INGOs by explicitly evaluating their audiences. Deborah Avant, Martha Finnemore, and Susan Sell offer a useful typology of forms of authority. ^{Footnote 18} Global governors, they argue, may have five types of authority, and for each, some audience has deferred to that governor. This authority allows these actors to set agendas; make, implement, and enforce rules; and then evaluate, monitor, and adjudicate outcomes. ^{Footnote 19}

Using this typology, and drawing on the books under review, we argue that INGOs enjoy three types of authority—delegated, expert, and principled. First, INGOs may act as delegated authorities when states or intergovernmental organizations task them with monitoring the implementation of treaties or delivering foreign aid. ^{Footnote 20} Such delegation appears growing in the humanitarian sector but rare in the environmental sector. ^{Footnote 21}

Second, INGOs’ research and experiences in the field translate into expert authority. INGOs make defensible policy prescriptions using their specialized knowledge. For example, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) claims expert knowledge on the treatment of prisoners of war, and the access they have enjoyed as a result has reinforced their authoritative status. ^{Footnote 22} Sometimes, working with epistemic communities, INGOs may help define an issue and recommend solutions, as many environmental INGOs do in their work alongside the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. ^{Footnote 23} Expert authority allows INGOs to access media outlets and policymakers, creating political salience and political opportunities. ^{Footnote 24}

Finally, principled authority is critical for INGOs. Perhaps more so than others, this brand of authority is both contested and more difficult to pinpoint precisely because so many audiences might confer it on the basis of various principles. ^{Footnote 25} As the discussion of organizational motivations makes clear, INGOs may not in fact serve others, but INGOs that appear to serve only private interests lose their principled authority. The principled authority of INGOs thus depends on the perceived legitimacy of their claims, in which signaling (a la Murdie) is critical to how organizations are viewed. Organizations are legitimate in the eyes of a particular audience if that audience agrees with the social purpose and practices of the organization. ^{Footnote 26} Importantly, INGOs face many audiences. As Bob illustrates in the case of gay rights proponents, an INGO may be legitimate in the eyes of one audience but wholly rejected by another. ^{Footnote 27}

Setting aside broad structural processes, the authority of INGOs rests on two important factors: their internal capacities and their relations with external audiences. We see three important tasks for future INGO research, all of which are premised on the primacy of INGO agency. First, at the risk of stating the obvious, INGOs are not all the same; they share certain attributes but are not interchangeable, and these differences shape the type and level of authority that they enjoy. ^{Footnote 28} Second, in order to better understand the effects of INGOs, we need a more rigorous way to study and measure the relationships between INGOs and multiple, distinct audiences. INGO activity affects more than just states, including the beneficiaries of INGO service-delivery activities. ^{Footnote 29} Third, an agent-centered perspective on INGO authority necessarily raises questions about whether INGOs are most powerful individually or collectively. The INGO literature has been an important focal point for discussions of the power of networks (see “Lost” Causes, for example). Future research on INGO networks must move more easily between the study of network structures and the organizational nodes. Our ability to address these questions turns on the quality of organization- and network-level data on INGOs—data that are inconsistent or nonexistent.

A focus on the differences in the level and scope of INGO authority suggests new research questions. Perhaps most importantly, the politics of interactions among INGOs requires much more attention. Beyond gatekeeping, we expect that powerful INGOs influence other practices within the INGO sector as well, including fund-raising strategies, program design, patterns of professionalization, and networking practices. Just as firms may imitate the new strategies of leaders in their fields, ^{Footnote 30} smaller or less competitive INGOs operating in highly uncertain environments may follow their seemingly successful peers.

A particularly pressing problem for INGO scholars is the lack of rigorous and comparable data at the organization level across the global population of INGOs. Murdie uses the Union of International Associations Yearbook, which offers membership data over time at the global level. Still, as she and others have explained, the Yearbook indicators at the organizational level are self-reported and unstandardized, with inconsistent categorization of INGOs by subject matter and organizational type. Generally, the most extensive data on individual organizations are collected at the national level, but each country has its own reporting requirements for charities. Future INGO research depends on developing better descriptive statistics of the global population under examination. ^{Footnote 31}