Source: Blog di Vision
It has been suggested that Russia may be the only country on Earth, the majority of whose citizens think a warming planet is a good thing. That, however, may be an unfair assertion: by most accounts, Russians don’t think about global warming at all. Indeed, as the world headed to Copenhagen to talk about climate change, Russians were largely mum, and none of the leading polling agencies even bothered to ask citizens what they think of the issue. Pervasive public apathy is a convenient thing for Russia’s leadership, which, by most accounts, understands the problems, understands what needs to be done, but doesn’t have the will to turn that understanding into policy.
In some ways, the low profile of climate change in Russia bodes well for a robust eventual Russian contribution to reducing carbon emissions. The salient issue for the Kremlin is efficiency: Russia, along with Saudi Arabia, is one of the world’s least energy efficient economies, placing strains on government, public utilities, power generators and hydrocarbon exporters such as Gazprom. Increasing efficiency, in order to reduce overall energy usage in Russia per household and unit of economic production, and thus to maximize gains to corporations and the budget, is a top priority, at least rhetorically. If that rhetoric ever becomes reality, a more efficient Russia will become a powerful contributor to whatever agreement emerges from Copenhagen, even if Russia never had the climate in mind.
The problem, of course, is that there is little sign of Russia moving beyond the rhetoric. Already, one of Russia’s envoys to Copenhagen, has signaled that Russia will not sacrifice growth for the sake of meeting emission reduction targets, and that signals an intention to continue with carbon-intensive approaches. That is unfortunate, but it is understandable, if you take into account how Russia works. Despite the fact that there is a broad consensus among government officials at all levels and virtually all sectors of the economy that energy use has to be addressed systematically, large-scale progress will require massive, coordinated investment by government and business across sectors, which will bring returns only in the mid to long term. Given weak property rights, rampant corruption and shallow political institutionalization, however, economic actors – and, in Russia, that includes government officials and bureaucrats – operate with very short time horizons. As a result, no one can be sure that coordinated efforts will be sustained, and that rules, such as tax benefits, meant to stimulate beneficial investment, will remain in place long enough for investments to pay off. The outcome is paralysis.
While Russia is not constructively at the table in Copenhagen, if climate negotiators want a deal that will work – and that means a deal that is at least potentially acceptable to Russia now and in the future – there are things they can do to help overcome these difficulties. The key will be to provide institutional frameworks outside Russia with which Russian actors can integrate, thus providing some of the stability and long-term perspectives sorely lacking in Moscow itself. A global carbon market can be one such mechanism, if it allows Russian companies to invest at home with the prospect of making profits abroad. International financial institutions might also provide financing on favorable terms to Russian utilities, municipalities and other key players, replacing incentives that are not likely to be forthcoming from the Kremlin. It is clichéd to say that, if anything is to be achieved in Copenhagen, negotiators will have to think outside the box. But if they are creative, they may well find a way to bring a reluctant Russia inside the box.