Global Diplomacy for the Arctic

The Arctic was long known as a region where the West and Russia were able to find meaningful ways to collaborate, motivated by shared interests in concerns in environmental protection and sustainable development. The phenomenon even had a name: Arctic exceptionalism. Most of that was lost when Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022.

There has been much hand-wringing about the extent to which the severing of political and economic ties should apply to scientific collaboration. In the Arctic, science has often persevered even when other forms of engagement were cut off. The International Polar Year 1957–58, the 1973 Agreement on the Conservation of Polar Bears, and the 1991 Arctic Environmental Protection Strategy are prominent examples.

A culture of Arctic scientific collaboration has also defined the work of the Arctic Council, the region’s main intergovernmental forum. Incremental efforts to resume collaboration have focused on allowing the council’s Working Groups—populated largely by experts and researchers, and focused on scientific projects—to resume their work, if virtually rather than in person. There have been many discussions on whether the Arctic Council should continue without Russia; the conventional wisdom is that climate change and other issues are so important that we can’t afford to cut ties completely.

Academics and scientists were often encouraged to collaborate with Russians on Arctic research between 1991 and 2021. Now it is becoming taboo. As Nataliya Shok and Katherine Ginsbach point out in “Channels for Arctic Diplomacy” (Issues, Spring 2024), “The invasion prompted many Western countries to impose a range of scientific sanctions on Russia … The number of research collaborations between Russian scientists and those from the United States and European countries has fallen.” In fact, a colleague of mine was terminated from the University of Lapland for attending a conference in Russia where he spoke about climate change cooperation.

Shok and Ginsbach do an admirable job of framing this context. But they go beyond that, reminding us of the importance of scientific collaboration on human health in the Arctic region. Some of us may recall, and the authors recount, when a heat wave in 2016 resurfaced anthrax bacteria long buried in permafrost in Russia’s Arctic Yamal Peninsula. The outbreak killed thousands of reindeer and affected nearly a hundred local residents. It had us asking, what else will a warmer Arctic bring back into play? A study conducted by a team of German, French, and Russian scholars before the invasion of Ukraine sought to help answer this, identifying 13 new viruses revived from ancient permafrost.

This type of research is now under threat. There’s a case to be made that regional collaboration on infectious disease is even more urgent than that on melting permafrost or other consequences of climate change. It’s not a competition; but in general, better understanding Arctic sea ice melt or Arctic greening won’t prevent climate change from happening. Understanding the emergence of new Arctic infectious diseases, by contrast, can be used to prevent outbreaks. Shok and Ginsbach recommend, at a minimum, that we establish monitoring stations in the high-latitude Arctic to swiftly identify pathogens in hot spots of microbial diversity, such as mass bird-nesting sites.

There is no easy answer to the question of whether or how to continue scientific collaboration with Russia in the wake of the illegal invasion of Ukraine. But it is undoubtedly a subject that needs contemplation and debate. Shok and Ginsbach provide a good start at that.

Heather Exner-Pirot

The COVID-19 pandemic powerfully demonstrated the importance of international scientific cooperation in addressing a serious threat to human health and the existence of modern society as we know it. Diplomacy in the field of science witnessed a surge in the race to find a cure for the SARS-CoV-2 virus. The thawing Arctic region is at risk of giving rise to a new virus pandemic, and scientific collaboration among democratic and authoritarian regimes in this vast geographical area should always be made possible.

International science collaboration and science diplomacy, however altruistic, risks being run over by the global big power rivalry between players such as Russia, China, and the United States, with the European Union and the BRIC countries acting as players in between. In its recent report From Reluctance to Greater Alignment, the German Marshall Fund argues that Russia’s scientific interests in the Arctic, beyond security considerations, are mostly economic with a focus on hydrocarbon extraction and development of the Northern Sea Route, trumping any environmental or health considerations.

Russian and Chinese scientific cooperation in the Arctic has increased significantly since their first joint Arctic expedition in 2016. China was Russia’s top partner for research papers in 2023, and scientists from both countries have downplayed the military implications of their scientific collaborations in the Arctic, emphasizing their focus on economic development. However, many aspects of this collaboration, such as the Arctic Blue Economy Research Center, include military or dual-use applications in space and deep-sea exploration, and have proven links to the Chinese defense sector.

Given the scientific isolation of Russia after its invasion of Ukraine in 2022, scientific collaboration in the areas of health and environmental concerns within the auspices of the Arctic Council and other international organizations seem to be the last benign avenues for Russian scientific collaboration with other Arctic powers and the West at large. Russia’s pairing up with China on seabed and mineral exploration in the Arctic does not, however, strengthen trust and confidence of Russian efforts in health and environmental issues being free of military and security policy.

The last frontier of scientific cooperation for the benefit of health and environmental stability in the Arctic region stands to be overrun by global power politics, with science diplomacy being weaponized as a security policy tool, among others. This is a sad reality acknowledged by the seven countries—Canada, Denmark (Greenland), Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and the United States—that exercise sovereignty over the lands within the Arctic Circle. (Russia was voted out of the oversight Arctic Council after its invasion of Ukraine.) It is therefore worth considering whether Russia’s Arctic research interest in the fields of health and environment would benefit from a decoupling from China and any other obvious military or dual-use application.

Charlotta Collén