Geneva Solutions: From Mark Carney’s straight-talking in Davos on the rupture of the world order, to Donald Trump’s attempts to form a new one in his image, how do you make sense of what’s happening today?
Marie-Laure Salles: My reading of the current situation is shaped by my work on the American model. My first book examined how, after 1945, the global institutional architecture was dominated by the American hegemon and structured everything – our economies, political systems, even our identity. That order brought some form of global stability. But, as Carney noted and as we have argued at the Institute for several years, this system was progressively delegitimised by double standards. Rules were applied unevenly, and powerful countries – including the US – often ignored them when it suited them. At the same time, decolonisation and the rise of countries such as China, India and Brazil led many to challenge a framework that had not adapted to this changing reality.
In short, what we are witnessing is the progressive end of an empire. It’s a long and painful process that did not begin with Trump. He is not the cause, but the epitome – or the expression of deeper structural dynamics, including the self-destructive aspects of the American economic model built on extreme consumption and perpetual growth – one that is impossible to sustain. In his speech, Carney said we shouldn’t fool ourselves. The rules-based international order was not working the way it should have. And I think we indeed have to start from the principle that there’s no way back. This is not a temporary hiccup that will go back to normal once Trump is no longer president. It’s the exposure of the limits of a system trying to prolong itself rather than fundamentally change.
Where do we go from here?
I see two possible options. The first is letting the current forces triumph and going back to a kind of Middle Ages rule-of-force world, where everyone grabs what they want. Given today’s military capacities, this would be far more destructive than anything we have known before. The second, outlined clearly by Carney and others, including Emmanuel Macron, is the only viable one. The US and Russia have effectively chosen to step outside the rules-based game. But most countries – and most people – still want a world with a degree of order and predictability, where collective security is prioritised. And the best guarantee of collective security is peace, not war. On that basis, we need to reconfigure international cooperation around key existential issues, from health to environmental survival, to the regulation of technology, which is rapidly becoming an issue of survival of our own species. This means building flexible “coalitions of the willing” – the term is imperfect, but the idea is clear – where cooperation varies by issue and is driven by middle and smaller powers, because these countries have the most to lose in a rule-of-force world.
What do these new forms of collaboration look like?
There are a few worth mentioning, including an initiative launched in 2024 by the International Committee of the Red Cross alongside six core countries, including France, which aims to reinforce political commitment to international humanitarian law. It has since gained support from 99 countries. Another very interesting case, which was launched by Brazil and the UN at Cop30 in Belém and now counts about 15 countries, is the global coalition to fight disinformation on climate change. Both these examples are slightly different from the traditional American century architecture in that they involve coalitions of countries, international organisations, NGOs and private actors.
With the American model in decline, what future role is there for multilateral organisations that it created, and for international Geneva?
We should keep the baby and not throw it out with the bathwater. Multilateralism still has immense value, because we have to address common issues in ways that preserve peace in the long term and prevent competition for limited resources from turning into conflict. Addressing these challenges through common forms of organisation is a fundamental driver of multilateralism. That means also preserving some of the great work being done in Geneva. Multilateral organisations based here are doing their job, including on the ground. They can be made more efficient and synergistic, but we should not underestimate the concentration of expertise here. The proximity of actors working on health, climate, trade, the environment and other global issues creates a density that could become a powerful engine for greater cooperation.
That said, we must accept that the future of multilateralism will no longer be hegemon-driven. It will need to become more horizontal and network-based, with multiple hubs across the world. The challenge is connectivity between these different hubs. This is where Geneva and Switzerland have a major asset and need to seize that opportunity. There will be Vienna, Singapore and Addis Ababa, but few places combine the density, diversity, competencies, historical legacy and even humanist spirit of Geneva, which predates the American century. All of these are strengths that could be mobilised to reinvent Geneva’s role as a coordinator of hubs and a support base for new coalitions of multilateral action.
Going back to your first answer, how does one teach international relations in such a rapidly changing political environment and where the rules-based order, the bedrock of our understanding of the world, is being upended? Does that give teaching material a limited shelf-life?
The reality is, no. Critical thinking has always been at the core of what we do at the institute, in both research and teaching. For years, academia has debated global standards, the gap between the rule of law and its application, and the power dynamics, cultural interpretations and political realities that shape how rules are understood. These discussions are embedded in our transdisciplinary teaching and remain essential. What we need to work on – and it’s something we’ve been anticipating for the last few years – is giving new generations of students who will then enter the workforce the courage and imagination to reinvent systems, not just critique their limits. We sometimes call this “futures thinking” – the idea that multiple futures are possible and that change depends on collective action, creativity, courage and engagement.
How have global aid cuts and students’ worries over shrinking career opportunities, particularly here in international Geneva, affected applications to your programmes?
Despite global aid cuts and concerns about job prospects, applications remain strong. While figures for the September 2026 intake are still preliminary, we saw a 40 per cent overall increase in candidates last year, including an 80 per cent rise in American applicants. Early figures this year suggest that the trend is continuing. This growth reflects both programme reforms – particularly the revamp of our flagship interdisciplinary master’s – and wider political factors. A lot of students no longer obtain visas for the US. Meanwhile, many American students, as well as professors, feel they can no longer freely study, teach or discuss key international issues such as climate, gender or geopolitics in the US, and see Europe and Geneva as an alternative.
We are aware that international organisations are in a transition phase, with fewer internships and jobs available. But the idea that we train only future UN officials is a myth. Our graduates have hugely transferable competencies – and they go into the private sector, national public services, law, international banking, academia and NGOs.
You studied in the US, at Harvard. As both a former student and leader of an academic institution, what’s been your reaction to the Trump administration’s multi-pronged assault on higher education, from the slashing of billions in science research grants to other restrictions on academic freedoms?
What we are witnessing is a textbook case of how to destroy your soft power. I’m 60 years old now, and for my generation, the US was once the holy grail for studying. We were in awe of the intellectual power of those universities. In barely a year, that system has been severely damaged, and it will be very hard to reverse. That said, this did not start overnight. A deeper problem lies in the long-term privatisation of higher education in the US, where education ceased to be treated as a public good and became a commercial product, fuelled by massive student debt. This created the conditions for today’s attacks on universities and research.
There is now a growing narrative, imported from Silicon Valley and spreading to Europe, that higher education is too expensive and unnecessary. This misses its fundamental purpose. Education is not just about acquiring the professional skills to get a job; it is about forming citizens in the deep sense of the term, and cultivating the capacity for critical thinking, which is the only way to survive the craziness we face in this age of misinformation and artificial intelligence. At the heart of this citizenship role is learning to listen to others and respect different opinions, which is the basis of any social contract. Without this, societies become fragmented, as we are now seeing. The totalitarian impulse is to limit the capacity for critical thinking, which is why universities are the prime target of this American government.
Are you concerned about a similar rollback gaining traction in Europe, for example, in areas such as gender studies?
Yes, I am very concerned. In Europe, the trend is more subtle, but it is there. It takes the form of self-censorship – reformulating language, avoiding certain words and softening topics. We see it creeping in, and it is being influenced by the evolution of the political landscape in certain countries. The media are also applying a lot of pressure; if you look at the media owned by Vincent Bolloré (One of France’s most powerful far-right media magnates – ed.), they are putting a lot of pressure on universities. This is not a purely European phenomenon; it is global. The difference is that in Europe, the impact is, for now, less violent and less abrupt, which means there is still room to resist.
How do you think you fared in navigating the increasing polarisation we’ve seen on campuses over politics and conflicts like the war in Gaza?
We have a structural advantage in that we are a school of international affairs where these issues are debated all the time. Our students approach them academically and with prior knowledge. But that alone was not enough – it required a lot of work. From the very beginning, we created the conditions for having those debates. We didn’t shy away from them because if you do that, you create a contrary reaction. An institution like ours has to talk about Gaza, the Middle East, Ukraine, Russia, Yemen, Sudan – these are core subjects. We organised spaces for dialogue with faculty, including briefings grounded in expertise and research, and we sustained those efforts over time. At the same time, we were absolutely clear that there was zero tolerance for antisemitism or Islamophobia.
I met regularly with students, listened to their concerns, including around boycotts, and tried to channel those discussions into broader, principled frameworks, such as our institutional charter on values and responsibilities. It is a constant balancing act, with pressure from all sides. Trying to stay on the line and define academic freedom is not easy – it’s becoming an increasingly tough job to run universities today.