Elephants and Whales: Sarah Paine on Why Continental and Maritime Powers Build Different World Orders

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Overview

Military historian Sarah Paine argues that continental powers and maritime powers have tried to organize the world in fundamentally different ways, and that the difference still shapes international politics. Continental empires, which Paine's colleagues at the Naval War College call "elephants," pursue security by conquering territory. Maritime powers, the "whales," pursue prosperity through trade. Each approach follows from geography, and each produces its own kind of world order. Paine's position is that the maritime order, built on trade, law, institutions, and alliances, is the only win-win option. Leaders like Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping, in Paine's view, remain tied to a continental outlook that works against their own interests.

35 min read

Paine frames the argument with two terms. Geopolitics is the influence of geography on politics. Grand strategy is "grand" because of how many instruments of national power it integrates. To picture those instruments, Paine suggests thinking about who sits in a president's cabinet: diplomacy, the military, finance, agriculture, and a long list of others.

The first distinction: can you defend yourself at sea?

Paine opens with an image of D-Day, 6 June 1944, the point where sea power met land power. Maritime powers, Paine argues, are the exception, and continental powers are the rule. The reason is that a maritime power can, if necessary, defend itself mainly at sea with its navy, and a continental power cannot. Paine's example is Ukraine: no navy is going to save it from Russia.

This is the first distinguishing characteristic, and it has military consequences. A state in the continental world had better have a competent army, and a maritime power had better have a good navy. Paine stresses that the consequences extend into economics and politics as well, and the rest of the lecture follows them.

The United States as a former continental power

Paine then gives what they call a whirlwind tour of American history, to show that the United States began as a continental power bent on reaching the West Coast. The United States tried to invade Canada in 1775 and 1812, and Britain won both times. The Monroe Doctrine, in Paine's reading, was a classic continental spheres-of-influence statement: stay out of my backyard. At the time, though, the United States was too weak to enforce it, so it was little more than a wish list.

American expansion differed from the typical continental pattern in one respect. It preferred "checkbook diplomacy" to massed armies. When Napoleon was short of cash in 1803, the United States made the Louisiana Purchase. When Russia was short of cash, which Paine calls a perennial problem, the United States bought Alaska and the northern part of the West Coast. When Mexico refused the check, the United States fell back on the standard continental method, the Mexican-American War, and acquired Texas. Mexico then accepted the next offer, the Gadsden Purchase, which brought in Tucson and other places.

Paine adds that the longest counterinsurgency in American history was not the recent wars in the Middle East. It was the long war against the native population, who fought bitterly before they were forced to give up. Americans called their expansion manifest destiny and were proud of it. Paine points to a painting in a staircase near the House chamber that is now titled "Westward Ho." Its original title was "Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way."

Mahan's prerequisites, and why China and Russia fall short

In the late nineteenth century a different view emerged, driven by Alfred Thayer Mahan, whom Paine calls by far the most famous professor ever associated with the Naval War College, where Paine spent 24 years. Mahan argued that a country's power and position depend less on continental expansion and consolidation than on the wealth it gains from trade. He set out prerequisites for a maritime security paradigm:

  • a moat, so the country cannot be invaded across a land border;
  • a dense internal transportation grid to move goods in peacetime;
  • reliable egress by sea to get the navy out in wartime;
  • a dense coastal population to run the commerce;
  • stable government institutions that will fund a navy and pass laws that make commerce possible.

Paine measures China and Russia against this list and finds that neither comes close. Neither has a moat. Between them, Paine says, they have more neighbors than any other two countries on the planet, and many of those neighbors dislike them "for excellent reasons." Russia's internal transportation grid is poor, while China's has been improving. Neither has reliable sea egress, because both face narrow seas with many islands and many neighbors, and such waters tend to be blockaded in wartime. Russia's one reliable outlet is in the Arctic, where, as Paine jokes, nobody lives except polar bears. China does have a dense coastal population, but it faces a narrow sea, and Russia has none in the north. Russia has never had a commerce-driven economy. China moved much further in that direction under Deng Xiaoping, but Paine says Xi Jinping has lately favored the crony sector over the private sector. Finally, Paine's test for stable institutions is transparent, regular elections, and "dictatorship for life does not remotely qualify." Paine's conclusion is that both countries have maritime ambitions, but it is not clear they understand what a full maritime paradigm requires.

Mackinder's heartland and Spykman's rimland

A generation after Mahan, the British geographer Sir Halford Mackinder made the counterargument. In a 1904 article, Mackinder argued that Russia, not Britain, held the best geopolitical position in the world. He called the Eurasian interior the "pivot area" or "heartland" and described it as the citadel of land power and the greatest natural fortress on earth. Mountains, deserts, frozen seas, and rivers that reach the ocean at places inaccessible in wartime all protect it. Paine sums up Mackinder's point: the heartland is not insulated by the sea but from the sea. Whoever holds it gains defense in depth, room for strategic retreat, and self-sufficiency. A maritime power like Britain could influence the heartland only from the periphery. In Mackinder's day that meant colonies in strategic places. Today, Paine says, it means allies with bases.

Nicholas Spykman, a naturalized American from the Netherlands, then under Nazi occupation, finished his major work in 1943, the year he died. He believed the power that controlled Eurasia might control the world, and he thought the Nazis had come close to dominating it in 1941. Paine quotes Spykman's complaint that the United States, despite having the safest position of any nation, had been drawn into two devastating world wars within a quarter century and at one point faced serious danger of defeat. American statesmen's expectations had been "consistently wrong." Paine adds: "Sound familiar?"

Spykman reasoned that American influence could reach Europe and the Far East only by sea, and that Eurasian powers could reach the United States only by crossing the seas. This held even after the rise of air power, because big things go by sea, as Paine notes they still do. American security was therefore a function of sea power, and safety at home depended on a maritime shield. For that reason Spykman cared intensely about whether friends or foes controlled the "rimland" around the heartland. The United States needed a continental ally to provide a base for land power. In Paine's reading, Spykman's point was that victory in World War II would depend on allies.

China: the original land power

Paine then begins the "main course," starting with continental empires because they came first in history. The first example is China rather than Russia. Sunzi's Art of War, Paine explains, advises kings on how to stay on the throne and conquer neighbors efficiently in a world full of neighbors who can invade at any time, and where third-party intervention is the norm. The book never mentions maritime warfare and refers to riverine warfare only in passing, because it describes a continental world that existed long before maritime empires. Paine adds that great Eurasian civilizations often rest on great continental empires. A civilization answers how to live and how to deal with others, which makes it a world order of its own, and civilizations have often fought to make their rules universal.

Using maps of precipitation, temperature, and topography, Paine shows how little of China is warm, wet, and flat enough to farm. Too much of the land is "vertical." Paine says this explains why famine afflicted China for centuries and why the country depends on food imports today. An ethnic map shows the Han concentrated in the arable core and surrounded by diverse peoples. How did the Han end up with the best land? Paine's answer is that they destroyed the competing Zunghar and Tibetan empires. The Qing wiped out the Zunghars long ago. In the continental world, Paine argues, the choice was binary: become Han, be killed, or flee. Genocide is what happens to the losers in continental warfare, and Paine says the Uyghurs now appear slated for it.

Paine's quick survey of Chinese history shows repeated expansion, contraction, wall-building, and bloodshed. Paine emphasizes that the Yuan dynasty was not an ordinary dynasty. It was a Mongol occupation, part of a Pax Mongolica in which the Han were a subjugated people. The Mongols spread out from east of Lake Baikal, which Paine links to an earlier period of climate change that pushed their herds south. After the Ming, China was conquered again, this time by the Manchu Qing, which Paine calls the second-largest empire in Chinese history. Paine finds it notable that when China claims its historical lands today, it chooses the borders of either the Yuan or the Qing, the two periods when the Han were ruled by outsiders. Paine also points out that China has raised armies in the hundreds of thousands for thousands of years, something the West did not do regularly until the Napoleonic Wars.

Russia: ingesting and digesting territory

Mackinder paid little attention to China, which was in free fall during his lifetime, and focused on Russia. He expected Russia's new railways to give it strong internal lines of communication in wartime, while Britain was stuck with exterior lines by sea.

Paine describes the Russians as "Mongols in reverse." Moscow first destroyed rival princely city-states, then expanded in pursuit of furs, and kept going until it met countries that fought back. A map of the Russian Empire at its peak in 1914 shows small administrative units around Moscow that grow larger toward Siberia. Standard provinces (guberniya) covered the core. Territories "recently ingested and yet to be digested" were organized as oblasts. On top of the civil map sat governor-generalships in the conquered regions, which Paine reads as a sign of what was really going on. The conquered areas included Finland, Poland, Ukraine, the Caucasus, the khanates of Turkestan, and Siberia. Paine says China has done something similar, with provincial boundaries that shift and military regions layered over them. American state boundaries, by comparison, have barely changed. In Paine's analysis, shifting boundaries are a way to absorb peoples, and where full absorption fails, at least to neutralize ethnic groups.

Many neighbors, domestic armies, and fighting at home

Mackinder emphasized the advantage of internal lines of communication. Paine points to the matching disadvantage: many neighbors. Around 1900, Russia's security threats ran from Britain, Germany, Austria-Hungary, and the Ottoman Empire to China and Japan. That is very different from Britain's 360-degree moat. Russia suffered catastrophic defeats at the hands of the Mongols, the Swedes, Napoleon at first, and Germany in World War I, and it lost the Cold War. Each time, Paine says, its central position let it recover. In this world, power comes from land and every neighbor is dangerous. Unstable neighbors spill their instability over the border, and strong neighbors may see you as a "menu item."

This shapes what armies are for. In a maritime power, the army exists for expeditionary warfare, meaning it crosses an ocean to fight elsewhere. In a continental power, Paine argues, the army's first mission is to protect the ruling regime. Paine's example is the People's Liberation Army, whose first mission is to keep the Communist Party in power. Its second mission is to garrison the empire and prevent defections, and its third is border defense, where whatever is won is kept. "Away games" are rare.

Paine uses World War II death figures to show what this means. Military deaths among the Axis were 3.2 million Germans, 1.5 million Japanese, and 330,000 Italians. Among the Allied land powers they were 8.5 million Russians, nearly a million Poles, 1.3 million Chinese, and 340,000 French. For the maritime powers, Britain lost 326,000 and the United States 295,000, which by some statistics is fewer than Italy or France, even though France was not in the war for long. Including civilians, Paine says, makes the continental numbers catastrophic: over 7 million Germans, over 25.5 million Russians, nearly 7 million Poles, 11 million Chinese, and nearly a million French. The maritime powers' totals barely change. The reason is that continental powers fight on home territory. Paine calls this the continental powers' "unavoidable agony." When a neighbor invades, you must capitulate or fight on the neighbor's schedule, which is Ukraine's problem. A maritime power watching an invasion can choose whether to intervene, when, and with which instruments. Paine says the United States should think carefully about those choices before intervening everywhere and overextending.

Winning this kind of war can bring large gains. Russia's huge sacrifices gave Stalin control of Eastern Europe for the Cold War. Paine's warning is that territorial domination is very expensive, so the prize had better be worth it.

The continental rulebook, and its flaws

Paine sets out the rules of the continental game. First, avoid two-front wars, because if the neighbors gang up, it is over. Second, allow no great-power neighbors, because today's friend can become tomorrow's enemy. The method is to deal with neighbors one at a time: set them up to fail, destabilize the rising ones, absorb the failing ones, keep buffer zones, and wait for the moment to strike. "This is Vladimir Putin's game," Paine says. Better still is to get the neighbors to do the work by stoking their mutual resentments, pushing them to fight each other, and flooding them with fake news. Russia can then play the "jackal state," moving in to take a kill made by others.

Paine identifies several problems with this approach. It surrounds you with failing states. Russia and China border some of the most dysfunctional places on earth, and Paine asks whether they are unlucky or complicit. It produces no lasting alliances, because neighbors eventually realize the hegemon is their long-term problem. It gives no guidance on when to stop, and Paine says China and Russia have repeatedly overextended, which helps explain the collapse of various empires and dynasties. Paine adds that before the Industrial Revolution this paradigm was very effective, and that it took no account of collateral damage or innocent deaths. It is about killing people and breaking things to take territory, and Paine says we have watched it in Syria and Ukraine. Ancient ruins are ruins, Paine notes, because this kind of warfare is ruinous.

Empire in Russian thought, and a world without insurance

Paine quotes three Russian figures to show how deeply the imperial idea runs. The historian Vasily Klyuchevsky described Russian history as "the history of a country in process of colonizing itself," with its periods defined by stages of occupying new land. Paine notes that he says nothing about the people already living there. Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote in his diary that in Europe Russians were "hangers-on and slaves," but in Asia they would go as masters, and that a "civilizing mission" in Asia would drive them onward. Count Sergei Witte, finance minister and in Paine's words perhaps the most distinguished public servant of late tsarism, wrote in 1903 that Russia's task was to take as large a share as possible of the "outlived oriental states," above all China. He claimed Russia had "the undisputed right to the lion's share of the expected prey," traced the movement back to Ivan the Terrible, and called the absorption of much of China "only a question of time" unless the Chinese got their act together. Paine says Putin apparently sees the world the same way.

The danger for such powers, Paine argues, is that when a continental power botches its strategy, its known world can vanish permanently. That happened to Imperial China, Imperial Russia, and many old civilizations. Paine shows a photograph of an aristocrat's whimsical palace, long gone, destroyed in what Paine calls one of the twentieth century's most horrific genocides: the Bolshevik Revolution, the Civil War, collectivization, and the Great Purges, through which the communists eliminated entire social classes. "It is a world without insurance policies," Paine says.

The maritime world: from Athens to Grotius

The maritime world works differently. Paine describes the nineteenth-century Atlantic as the center of the world economy. The rimlands produced wealth and shipped it back and forth across seas treated as a commons. In Paine's framing, the seas were "the original network" that could connect everyone to everything.

Paine traces the origins to the Athenian Empire, which hugged the shores of the Aegean and Ionian seas and paid for itself with trade. Rome and Byzantium were also rimland empires, quite unlike consolidated empires such as Russia and China. Paine contrasts the names. "Mediterranean" means the sea in the middle of the land, while China's name means the central kingdom among kingdoms. One stresses the sea, the other the land.

East-West trade drove much of the conflict. Whoever held the western "toll booth" of the Silk Road, where goods split toward the northern or southern Mediterranean shores, made a fortune. Muslim conquests settled control for a time. Meanwhile, continental consolidation proceeded in Europe, with both France and Germany tracing their origins to Charlemagne's empire. Paine describes the Crusades partly as an attempt by larger European powers to retake the toll booth. They failed, and the Ottomans held it for a long time. That pushed Europeans to find a sea route to Asia. Spain and Portugal ran into the Americas instead, found gold and silver, and switched from spices and silk to "heavy metal."

In Paine's account, the Dutch were the real founders of maritime empire, one built around trading bases. Their weakness was a vulnerable position in Europe. Paine finds it fitting that the Dutchman Hugo Grotius became the founding father of international law. Maritime empires want the seas to be a commons, free of piracy and governed by rules so that everyone can trade safely. In Mare Liberum, Grotius wrote that every nation is free to travel to and trade with every other. In The Law of War and Peace, he cited Roman sources holding that the sea belongs to all, including the line that by natural law "the air, flowing water, the sea, and in consequence, the seashore" are common to everyone. Paine notes that this is a Western idea that others do not necessarily share. China ratified UNCLOS in 1996 but says freedom of navigation does not apply within 200 nautical miles of its coast, where UNCLOS sets 12. In the East and South China Seas, Paine says, that gap matters.

Britain's strategy for elephant hunting

Britain perfected the maritime model because it did not share the Dutch problem. Napoleon eventually absorbed the Netherlands into the French empire, but Britain had its 360-degree moat. It was the only European power that did not need a large standing army, because a competent navy would drown any invading army at sea. Britain turned its dependence on trade into a strength. Trade paid for the navy, the navy protected the homeland and some of the trade, and Britain kept compounding wealth while its neighbors paid for large armies, which Paine describes as economy-killing and coup-generating, and destroyed wealth fighting each other.

Paine notes a limit. A navy can deliver a "prevent defeat" strategy, but not a "deliver victory" strategy, because navies are rarely decisive in wartime. Through trial and error against Napoleon, the British learned to integrate several instruments of national power. Paine says they coined the term "grand strategy" because they needed it. On the eve of the Napoleonic Wars, Europe had consolidated states east and west and a "tidbit zone," the Holy Roman Empire, in between. Napoleon ate up the tidbits, and by 1812, the empire's greatest extent and the year Clausewitz was developing his ideas on land warfare, things looked grim for everyone except Napoleon.

The British answer, in Paine's summary, was a set of rules for elephant hunting. Keep the home economy growing, since it funds everything else. Don't let the elephant forage: blockade and raid commerce to throw the enemy back on its dwindling resources and increasingly bitter allies. "Rent an elephant": arm and fund the continental power most directly threatened, because it is fighting on the main front. Fight in a peripheral theater that is easier to reach by sea than by land, so that attrition adds up, the enemy's attention is divided, and pressure on the main front eases. Do not take on the enemy's main force directly, and never as an opening move. Paine says Britain broke this rule at great cost in World War I. A continental power's strength is its army, while Britain's is its navy, its wealth, and its ability to survive a long war. Finally, fight on the main front only after the elephant has been bled badly, and only with many allies.

A continental power, Paine argues, cannot play this game. Its narrow, blockadable seas trap its surface fleet and merchant marine, and its many neighbors may invade it. A maritime power that sticks with the strategy can put itself and its enemy on opposite trend lines as the war eats into the enemy's economy, production, and morale. Paine calls it a strategy of protracted war won by exhausting the other side first. It depends less on military force than on economics, coalitions, and institutions, and it has prerequisites: sanctuary at home, access to peripheral theaters, allies, and overseas markets, and institutional stability to sustain a consistent strategy. These are the features Mahan later emphasized. After Napoleon, Paine says, Europe had a century of unprecedented prosperity without a continent-wide war. It was playing the maritime game of trading by the rules, compounding wealth, and not leveling each other's buildings, until World War I.

The second distinction: security versus prosperity

Paine's second distinguishing characteristic is that continental powers face contiguous threats, so they focus on national security. They want to insulate themselves from neighbors through exclusive zones, often extended into the surrounding seas. Maritime powers, secure behind their moats, focus on prosperity. Trade is their route to prosperity and also to security, since trade pays for everything. They want access to markets and oceans that function as a commons all the way from port to port. From this, Paine argues, come two mutually exclusive world orders. One divides the world into large spheres of influence, each a world of its own. The other runs on universal rules with seas open to all.

How the Industrial Revolution changed the currency of power

According to Paine, the Industrial Revolution upended both kinds of empire and brought in a maritime, rules-based global order. It introduced compounded economic growth, driven by institutional as well as technological change. Early on this meant steam power, industry, textiles, insurance, and banking. Paine points out that trade is impossible without insurance and credit. Later it meant railways, the telegraph, steamships, mass markets, general staffs, and armaments. Above all, the currency of power changed. Land used to matter because it produced commodities and supplied peasant conscripts. Once wealth came from commerce, industry, and trade, land no longer determined power. Paine says a country's wealth and power today often track how industrialized it is. The revolution also began a global trading order built on negotiations to reduce transaction costs, a process Paine says continues "eternally." It overturned the traditional balance of power. China in the nineteenth century resisted this order, and in Paine's view ISIS today reviles the liberal economies that support it.

Paine illustrates the shift with transport. The Roman, British, and Mongol empires all held one piece of land, the western end of the Silk Road, which was prime real estate in the continental world. The Suez Canal destroyed the camel trade, because shipping, especially through the canal, was so much cheaper than moving goods across Eurasia by animal.

Paine follows this a century forward to the 1967 war, when Egypt sank blockships to keep Israel from using the canal. The operational effect was obvious. The strategic effect was unexpected. Before the war, almost 90 percent of ships, counted by number, were 50,000 deadweight tons or smaller and fit through the canal. The canal stayed closed until about 1972, and by then almost 30 percent of ships by number were huge vessels that had never existed before and could not pass through. Even after widening, the largest ships still cannot. Paine cites the cost of shipping oil from the Persian Gulf to Rotterdam: a little over $13 per ton in a small ship through the canal, and, Paine believes, about a third of that in a large ship going around Africa. The lesson Paine draws is that ship size, more than distance, overcomes the overhead cost of shipping.

Paine's second example is Malcolm McLean, a trucking operator who put truck bodies without chassis onto ships, above and below deck. These were the first containers. Loading costs fell, by Paine's figures, from nearly $6 a ton to under 20 cents, and ships spent far less time in port. The International Organization for Standardization then standardized container sizes, "one if by truck, two if by railway cars, and thousands if by sea," and transport costs collapsed. Paine offers this to skeptics of international organizations as an obscure body that has changed everyone's lives.

This is the basis for Paine's skepticism about Xi Jinping's Belt and Road. Until 1960 the average tanker was 20,000 deadweight tons, and today the smallest ultra-large crude carriers are a quarter of a million. Paine believes the longest trains carry perhaps 600 containers on a good day, while the largest container ships carry over 21,000, with cargoes worth over $1 billion. The overland route is also not continuous and does not use a single rail gauge, so goods are loaded and unloaded repeatedly. It is less secure too: a land route must be controlled end to end through some of the most unstable places on earth. At sea, if a route is blocked, as the Suez Canal was, ships go the long way around. Paine adds that because of China's geography, the seas are open to it only in peacetime. Not because anyone plans to act against it, but because in wartime the shallow, island-studded waters and predictable chokepoints around it become "kill zones" that neither merchant ships nor surface warships can get through unless China is on good terms with everyone, which it currently is not. Peace, Paine concludes, is much better for China.

Paine also points to the surge in world trade after the Cold War, which they call "a miracle of your lifetimes" that lifted hundreds of millions out of poverty. Putin's problem, in Paine's telling, was that this wealth accrued to those invested in the trading order, not to those relying on extortion. With what Paine calls a second Cold War now under way, the world is returning to more inefficient arrangements.

The third distinction: interior and exterior lines, and alliances

The third distinction concerns lines of communication. Continental powers have used interior lines to garrison their empires, send armies against neighbors, and build contiguous alliance systems. That worked when power came from land. Maritime powers use exterior sea lines that reach the whole world, which makes a global alliance system possible.

According to Paine, the Industrial Revolution put continental empires "on notice." Land transport costs more than sea transport, and, more importantly, a positive-sum order became possible. Beating up your neighbors is negative-sum because the territory being fought over is damaged in the process. The maritime order aims for trading partners and win-win outcomes: freedom of navigation, free trade, and international law and institutions that lower transaction costs. Its insurance policy is the alliance system. Most countries are not maritime by geography, Paine argues, but by joining together and coordinating their instruments of power they can defend the rules against "rogue continental states."

Paine credits the "ultimate insurance policy" to the generation that went over the top as World War I conscripts, raised families in the Depression, and then, as strategic leaders, sent their own children into World War II. Paine says this generation, in both Europe and the United States, concluded that the answer to depressions and world wars was institution-building on a global scale. They created the UN, the IMF, NATO, and the predecessors of the World Trade Organization and the European Union. According to Paine, these institutions kept the peace in the industrialized world until Putin started his wars. Their premise was that differences should be settled by diplomats and lawyers, because whatever soldiers win will be worth less than what negotiation could have achieved. Paine notes that the Cold War was cold only in the industrialized world. Much of the fighting took place along Mackinder's "inner marginal crescent," where the maritime and continental worlds meet, as each side put its finger on the scale in local civil wars. That destroyed wealth and, in Paine's view, helps explain global growth problems in that era.

The invisible maritime world

Paine says it took 15 years of teaching at the Naval War College to notice something obvious: the maritime world is invisible. The continental world pursues positive objectives, such as taking territory, and you can see whether that happened. The maritime world pursues negative objectives, preventing bad things, and you can never prove you prevented anything, because the prevented event never occurred and perhaps no one was attempting it. At the operational level the continental world produces visible results. At the strategic level it destroys wealth on a massive scale.

Naval missions, Paine argues, are also mostly negative and mostly carried out in peacetime. They are to prevent the destruction of the global trading system, to prevent limits on freedom of navigation, and to deter large countries from taking over small ones, since sovereignty is the foundation of international law. The remedies for rogue behavior include alliances, diplomacy, sanctions, embargoes, and containment. For navies they mean deterrence, blockade, and commerce raiding, which keep the elephant from foraging and give it "a timeout" from the rules-based order.

To the objection that this leaves the problem in place, Paine answers with compound growth. Sanctions work like "economic chemotherapy." Even leaky sanctions that shave one or two percent off annual growth add up over generations to the gap between North and South Korea. North Korea still exists, but with a much smaller "piggy bank." If a rogue state has nuclear weapons, Paine asks whether anyone really wants a nuclear war to eliminate it. The maritime world, Paine argues, does not aim for the operational win of eliminating a problem. It aims to contain the problem at acceptable cost.

The unfinished contest

Paine says the optimists at the end of the Cold War assumed everyone would want to join the maritime order, and they were wrong. Pointing to a slide of Putin and Kim Jong-un, Paine argues that such leaders want to hollow out international institutions, overturn international law, and destroy the alliance system, returning the world to warring spheres of influence.

In summary, Paine names three factors that separate continental from maritime powers: whether a country can defend itself mainly at sea, whether it seeks insulation from the world or access to it, and whether it relies on interior or exterior lines of communication. These accidents of geography produce different preferences. A continental power sees territory to take, while a maritime power sees a market and asks why anyone would want to own another country's domestic problems. A continental power seeks self-sufficiency, while a maritime power trades. A continental power wants exclusive zones, while a maritime power wants commons at sea, in space, in cyberspace, and in the air. Most countries are neither purely maritime nor purely continental, but Paine argues that alliances can give their members a collective maritime position when the group is large enough.

Paine argues the choice is financially consequential. Continentalists tend to be dictators, though not always, and they spend heavily to dominate their own citizens and their neighbors, while maritime powers keep their growth compounding. Paine says China has benefited more than any other country from rejoining the maritime order under Deng Xiaoping, yet the burden of history and continentalist thinking, such as the conviction that "we need to take Taiwan," still weighs heavily. Paine's closing position is that the international order is flawed and a work in progress, but it offers the only win-win solution: letting diplomats and lawyers settle disputes in international forums. The alternative, Paine warns, is a third world war with nuclear fallout, and at this point in history the question is whether humanity would survive it.