In the past two decades, global health governance has undergone a quiet revolution, shaped less by sovereign states and more by the growing influence of private capital. The World Health Organisation (WHO), once envisioned as the democratic engine of international public health, has increasingly come to rely on large-scale philanthropic foundations. This shift toward what is now commonly termed 鈥攚here billionaire-funded entities use business strategies and methods to tackle social and environmental challenges鈥攈as profound implications. It is not just a matter of money, but of power, accountability and legitimacy. Amid what many now describe as a , the WHO鈥檚 growing dependence on a handful of wealthy private actors has exposed deep cracks in the system of multilateralism upon which it was founded. Thus, philanthrocapitalism is undermining democratic global health governance by concentrating power in the hands of the wealthy and eroding public accountability.
The International Trade Union Confederation鈥檚 (ITUC) was released on 2 June. The report presents a sobering picture of escalating violations of workers鈥� rights globally. Based on data from 151 countries, the Index reports that 87% of countries violated the right to strike, 80% restricted collective bargaining, and over 70% impeded union registration or denied access to justice. These trends, the report argues, reflect a 鈥渃oup against democracy鈥濃�攁n ongoing assault on core labour rights driven by repressive governments, emboldened corporations, and a broader authoritarian and conflict-ridden global capitalism.
The Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region once again emerges as the most repressive in the Index (with an overall score of 4.68; a score of 5 indicates no guarantee of rights), with all countries in the region found to have violated fundamental rights to organise and collectively bargain, as well as registration of unions. The right to strike was suppressed in 95% of countries in the region, while over half of MENA states arbitrarily arrested or detained workers (p.28). The list of the ten worst countries for working people is composed mainly of Global South countries, with MENA cases including Egypt, Tunisia, and T眉rkiye. Over the past few years, my research has focused on the political economy and labour relations of these three countries[i], and below I briefly discuss them with insights drawn from the ITUC report.
However, before turning to these cases, it is important to highlight some potential limitations or problems in the ITUC report. While its findings are grounded in substantial and credible documentation, the non-contextualised regional framing of the Global Rights Index risks reproducing a familiar issue regarding the Middle East: the tendency to isolate MENA as uniquely authoritarian or culturally predisposed to repression. By highlighting MENA as the 鈥渨orst region鈥� without sufficiently situating its labour regimes within broader historical and structural dynamics, the Index could be seen to implicitly (albeit unintentionally) reinforce exceptionalist interpretations that have long shaped conventional understandings of the region.
When considering the Global South in general, and the MENA region in particular, we must not overlook the dynamics inherent to uneven capitalist development, such as persistent global and regional inequalities, the imperatives of cheap labour in hierarchical global production networks, IFI conditionalities, and the long-term consequences of war, occupation, and imperialist intervention. In countries like Egypt and Tunisia, and historically in Turkey, for example, the role of the IMF and World Bank in shaping labour markets through austerity, privatisation, and deregulation has been central to the weakening of collective rights. The region is also the most unequal in the world by income and wealth, according to the 鈥攁 fact that reinforces the political utility of repressing labour as a force of potential redistribution and mobilisation.
While specific political regimes certainly shape labour practices, and domestic political agency is not insignificant, these conditions should not be viewed as 鈥榓nomalies鈥� within an otherwise democratic capitalism. That countries like the United States and the United Kingdom (major centres of 鈥榣iberal democratic capitalism鈥�) are both rated as systematically violating workers鈥� rights (with a score of 4, p.21) should caution against any simplistic division between 鈥渁uthoritarian鈥� and 鈥渄emocratic鈥� regimes under capitalism. Rather, what we are witnessing is a global pattern of labour repression under crisis-ridden global capitalism.
Defenders of capitalism argue that cooperation is undermined by individuals鈥� tendency to take more from society than they contribute. The economist Elinor Ostrom refuted this idea, but without identifying capitalism as the real cause of exploitation.
Socialist arguments that cooperation and collective action represent the basis of a better society are often dismissed by supporters of capitalism. 鈥淗uman nature,鈥� so the argument goes, is inherently self-seeking.
The so-called 鈥渇ree-rider problem鈥� purports to prove that large-scale cooperation is unsustainable because individuals seek to benefit from the collective action of others while minimizing their own contribution. This tendency is, the argument goes, a barrier to collective solutions to social problems.
Rather than cooperate, individuals should allow market forces to dictate how they decide to allocate their time and resources. Such arguments are applied by supporters of capitalism to explain why rational collective resource management and attempts to tackle climate breakdown are unlikely to succeed without the aid of market forces.
Since capitalism emerged as the world鈥檚 dominant economic system, its defenders have argued that private property rights and the pricing of natural resources are the only way to collectively manage our social goods.
The economist Elinor Ostrom provided a sharp critique of such notions from within the framework of mainstream economics. She demonstrated that cooperative management of natural resources can preserve rather than degrade them, and that trust between strangers can be established, expanded, and become the basis of collaborative ways of managing what she described as 鈥渃ommon-pool resources.鈥�
Within the field of sustainable development studies, her work became highly influential and helped to bring the notion of 鈥渢he commons鈥� to a broader audience. However, outside of academia, she remains largely unknown 鈥� a glaring oversight in a world in which education, water, and even land are increasingly run and managed for and by private companies.
What if the story of economic development doesn鈥檛 begin with the market, but with the household? And what if property, often assumed to be a static bundle of rights, is better understood as a dynamic institution鈥攁daptive, historically layered, and relational?
These questions sit at the heart of my recent research, which I had the opportunity to present at the Open University鈥檚 legal histories conference Land and Property Beyond the Centenary. While my work focuses on property governance and transformation in rural China, its implications stretch far beyond. It challenges dominant liberal narratives about property and development by presenting institutional change as a process of negotiated adaptation shaped by vulnerability and crisis, rather than a linear path towards free markets and individual ownership.
At its core, this work brings into dialogue three theoretical frameworks that are rarely combined: resilience theory, Martha Fineman鈥檚 vulnerability jurisprudence, and evolutionary institutional economics inspired by Thorstein Veblen. Together, they offer a rich toolkit for reimagining how development happens鈥攁nd for whom.
In multiple ways multilateralism, or the coming together of the international community to further global good, is under challenge today. 鈥楥onflicts鈥�, not least among them the genocide in Gaza, are an obvious challenge. But there is in the economic sphere a silent subversion of multilateralism underway that also needs to be stalled and reversed. This is the view that the 鈥渇inancing for development challenge鈥� is so huge and the share of the private sector in the holding and disposal of the world鈥檚 financial surpluses so large, that it is only private initiative that can successfully implement the programmes needed to realise the SDGs and address damaging climate change.
The corollary of that position is that the role of governments is no more to try and move surpluses from private to public hands (through new forms of international tax cooperation, for example) but to use the available public resources as means to unlock private investments and expenditures. The call is to go beyond the recognition that the tasks of realising the SDGs, ensuring the needed carbon transition, and building resilience the world over, are primarily governmental or 鈥榩ublic鈥� responsibilities, and that cooperation among governments (or multilateralism) is the best means to implement those tasks. Pragmatism demands, it is argued, that these tasks and therefore multilateralism, or the conjoint responsibilities of global governments, must be 鈥渙utsourced鈥�.
The only Nobel Prize that has nothing to do with the will of its creator, Alfred Nobel, was announced on Monday, October 14th. As usual, the announcement sparked a range of reactions, and as economist . This time, the prize did its job and recognized the contribution of neo-institutionalism to economics. Its influence is undeniable, as can be seen from the fact that these authors are widely cited in macroeconomics courses. For instance, Daron Acemoglu had long been mentioned in academic circles as a favorite to win the Nobel, much like Leonardo DiCaprio was repeatedly named a favorite for the Best Actor Oscar. While we are already familiar with the kind of economics that dominates classrooms and the hegemonic media, as well as the economics that influences politics and shapes economic policies, it鈥檚 worth discussing the theoretical and empirical contributions being recognized and their main critical observations.
Daron Acemoglu, Simon Johnson, and James A. Robinson (AJR) have been awarded for studies of how institutions are formed and affect prosperity. Their work addresses what is perhaps one of the most important questions in economics: How do we explain the economic disparity between countries? Why are some nations persistently wealthy while others remain consistently poor? We should understand prosperity as the plain and simple economic growth. If we rule out biological, cultural, or geographical reasons, what remains is dimension of the historical-political order. Development, then, is largely dependent on one key factor: In the early stages of nations, before they became modern states, what forms of government, civil codes, and laws were established? According to AJR, the root of development lies in the different types of political institutions that were established across the world. Thus, inclusive institutions are in sharp contrast with extractive institutions.
The default unit of analysis for many economists when dealing with national economics is the state. Yet, in economics textbooks 鈥榯he state鈥� is often assumed to be a neutral actor exogenous to economic processes. It is assumed to be the same 鈥� in essence – everywhere. This conception is based on a Eurocentric view of the state, which assumes all states are ahistorical Westphalian nation states based on Enlightenment principles. However, states are not neutral, but deeply shaped by historical processes. Analyses of 鈥榮tates鈥� in economics – country analyses, country data, evaluations of so-called 鈥榤acroeconomic fundamentals鈥� – must be rethought by taking the complexities of the state in Africa into account in their conceptualisations, analyses and policy proposals. In this piece, I unpack how the African state evolved as a colonial project and the implications of it being mischaracterized as neutral state.
A state like no other
The state in Africa has been mischaracterized as a neutral institution devoid of a problematic history which affects its present. In its simplest terms, the state is an institution of governing, i.e., a political organization whose main aim is to establish and maintain security, law and order within its geographic jurisdiction. In economics, the state is discussed and perceived as a one size-fit-all institution, one that is and must be similar in Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Americas. The African state, in particular, has been presented as if it is similar to other states, especially in Europe and the United States of America to which it must aspire.
Moreover, the African has been evaluated and judged on the basis of other perceived progressive states, especially those on the western hemisphere. That states are the same is both untrue, misleading, and ahistorical. African states are very different from other states as they are products of conquest, colonialism, genocides, epistemicides and slavery. It was created to support these processes and it still dispenses them mainly through violence. Those who colonised African countries did so not only to access markets and raw materials, but to displace epistemologies and decentre the colonized; and in the process they centered the colonising countries as the centre of knowledge production and essence of humanity. This is the origin of the superiority of liberal economics as the dominant way of understanding and doing economics in Africa.
Just as at the time of Bretton Woods, international economic law is essential to discourage destructive national policies. But it is also vital to understand how law, regulations and institutions are located within a longer historical trajectory of colonialism, inequality and exploitation.
The Covid-19 pandemic and the climate crisis demonstrate how the world today is more connected economically, socially, politically and ecologically than at any other point in history.
Actions in one country have impacts, sometimes very serious ones, on the societies, environment and economies of other countries. The globalisation of economic markets and technological change affect how countries, companies and individuals conduct economic exchange, including trade in goods and services, capital investment and financial transfers.
These developments also accelerate the social and environmental costs of transnational economic activity. For example, while products, such as mobile phones, can be used in one part of the world, their production can criss-cross multiple other geographical regions. Similarly, raw materials can be extracted from one country to be manufactured into consumer products in another.
This means that the social or environmental costs of production 鈥� such as low wages, poor health and safety standards and/or air or water pollution 鈥� are not necessarily borne by the countries or communities where the final product is sold and used by consumers.
These changes underscore the critical importance of global collective action and international economic law 鈥� the set of global rules and institutions that regulate transnational economic transactions.
As discussion turns to how international economic law deals with contemporary global problems 鈥� such as managing global supply chains, settling trade disputes, overcoming sovereign debt crises and financing transitions to low-carbon economies 鈥� it is important to consider how the historical legacies of the current system can affect its capacity to do so effectively.
This will enable us to move beyond the economics discipline鈥檚 approach to international law, which is often limited to narrowly measuring the 鈥榚ffect鈥� of different laws and legal institutions on various economic indicators, such as growth, investment and poverty. Taking this approach will enable us to explore how law is itself developed in a colonial and imperial context, which may serve to reproduce and perpetuate colonial harms and exploitation.
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