powers—their ability to do a bilateral deal—was the crucial thing.”
“This is different,” objected Benton. “Every country is affected by climate change.”
“Every country would have been affected by an outbreak of full-scale nuclear war between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R., arguably more severely than climate change will affect them. Would you have invited Fiji to participate in the SALT talks? Would you have restricted yourself to conditions they agreed with?”
Benton didn’t reply. Olsen could see he was listening.
“Look, Senator, you and I and everyone else on the planet know that if you get the top seven polluters agreeing to what needs to be done, the problem’s solved. China, us, India, the EuroCore, Japan, Brazil, and Russia. So why do we go to a conference where we sit down and listen to Malawi tell us what they think we should do? I’m sorry, I’ve never met a Malawian I didn’t like, but that is just not going to work. Now, first thing you do, is you admit the emperor has no clothes. When you see a process that’s busted, you kill it. Then, you start with the top two polluters, and you get agreement with them—and that’s the top two economies in the world—and that unlocks the rest. And if Malawi doesn’t want to play ball, if it won’t cut any of its emissions, you know what, it doesn’t even matter.” Olsen shrugged. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear. It’s only my opinion, but if you can find anything in the history of Kyoto that tells you otherwise, let me know.”
Olsen leaned back. He shook his head again, as if he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with what he had said.
Joe Benton frowned, gazing at the coffee table that stood between him and Olsen. Then he looked back at the other man. “Have you been working with the White House on this?”
Olsen looked at him in surprise. Then he laughed. “If you can show me a less competent administration in foreign affairs I’d like to see it. Senator, you’re insulting me.”
Benton smiled. “Unintended.”
“Fine.”
Benton frowned again. “You make a powerful case, Dr. Olsen.”
“Others have been making it.”
“Not as eloquently. Not to me.”
“So much depends on who you listen to, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Benton. “Yes.” He said it emphatically. “You mistake me, Dr. Olsen.”
“How so, Senator?”
“You said I need someone at State who wants our foreign policy to be reactive. You implied that’s because that’s the role I think we should play. I don’t think either of those things is true. What I need at State is someone who does want to see this country take an active leadership role, and doesn’t use the domestic prism for foreign policy. I need that counterbalance. You said it yourself, it’s my job to make the call between domestic and foreign priorities. So I need that State viewpoint given to me sharp and clear every single time I have to make a decision, and I need it given to me by someone who won’t be afraid to stand up and say what he thinks, even if he knows that a majority of the people in the room are instinctively against him. Which they may well be, by the way. And I need that person to know how to work the State Department machine so he can go out and do what he has to do. And by the way, I need that person to have a very, very good grasp of Chinese affairs.”
The Senator paused. Olsen was watching him closely.
“But here’s the other thing, Dr. Olsen. I need that person to be able to live with decisions he doesn’t like. That’s what worries me about you. Because after that person makes the case—when we’re talking about the major foreign policy issues for this country, the crucial strategic ones— they’re going to be my decisions. And if he hasn’t persuaded me on one of them, then I’m going to ask him to go out and do something which he may not necessarily