any people see global institutions as bodies that can’t act: UN ceasefires blocked by a single veto, climate reports ignored, or development banks with no clear success stories. It’s easy to assume these institutions were designed to be slow. But they weren’t. Their architects gave them authority to rebuild after wars, contain diseases, negotiate trade, and fund infrastructure. For decades, we saw visible outputs: roads, clinics, schools, public services.
So what changed? In one sentence, institutions stopped being tools that leaders use to execute decisions and became places where decisions go to get processed. That’s the dead weight: the committees meant to speed things up are now slowing things down.
The drift is visible in routine development work. When leaders don’t clarify goals, staff report on what’s easily countable. The World Bank’s scorecards track monitoring forms and strategy sheets, but not whether anything changed on the ground (which is often labeled mixed or impossible to verify).
In crises, the impact of the drift becomes impossible to ignore. During the Covid pandemic, post–mortem analysis found that plans existed on paper, but crucial decisions about testing, emergency funds, or travel rules stalled in approval chains. Gaza showed the same pattern. The UN drafted many ceasefire resolutions with overwhelming support (13–1), but a single permanent–member veto stopped them. On the ground, the UNRWA (a humanitarian arm) was ready with aid, but its actions hit roadblocks: crossing borders, passing inspections, requesting more fuel and supplies, and recouping lost donor funding. Each blocker required time–consuming approval processes. The delays slowed action while the death toll climbed.
That said, institutions have dormant power, and we see it in rare cases when leaders treat them as tools—for better or for worse.
Consider the United States. Many commentators assumed international rules would constrain President Trump when his administration started using broad powers to enact tariffs, rewrite asylum rules, and implement travel bans without new legislation. Yet a significant portion of his agenda went into effect. The point isn’t whether these moves were wise, but that the underlying authority was far more flexible than most believed.
We may see a similar dynamic in New York City under mayor–elect Zohran Mamdani. His campaign promises—fare–free buses, universal childcare, a rent freeze—depend on institutional levers which insiders insist aren’t there. Mamdani hasn’t governed yet. But as with Trump, institutions that look rigid may have more room when someone is motivated to find it.
Our institutions can work again if leaders understand two things: the logic behind their original design and the discretion still buried inside them. Success stories share a pattern: clarity about who can act, and a focus on outcomes. Institutions should:
- Devote time to measuring concrete outcomes for abstract goals. When budgets depend on measurable outputs, institutions that have not defined how to measure them risk getting cut
- Decide ahead of time who can act. Banks have been able to move money in days—not years—when emergency windows gave staff permission to act without renegotiating every step.
- Use small, time–bound teams that have clear permissions. Small, temporary disaster “surge” units have succeeded because they take the mandate: “You decide, you move.”
- Give leaders flexibility, but hold them accountable. Decision–making can require unconventional solutions during emergencies, but responsibility of the outcome must lie with the leaders who used them—not the institution.
a global affairs media network
Institutions’ power is dormant, buried in process
Photo by David Billings on Unsplash
January 15, 2026
What ails our institutions isn’t a design flaw, it lies in how we use them. At issue? Institutions stopped being tools that leaders use to execute decisions, and became places where decisions go to get processed, writes Thomas Plant.
M
any people see global institutions as bodies that can’t act: UN ceasefires blocked by a single veto, climate reports ignored, or development banks with no clear success stories. It’s easy to assume these institutions were designed to be slow. But they weren’t. Their architects gave them authority to rebuild after wars, contain diseases, negotiate trade, and fund infrastructure. For decades, we saw visible outputs: roads, clinics, schools, public services.
So what changed? In one sentence, institutions stopped being tools that leaders use to execute decisions and became places where decisions go to get processed. That’s the dead weight: the committees meant to speed things up are now slowing things down.
The drift is visible in routine development work. When leaders don’t clarify goals, staff report on what’s easily countable. The World Bank’s scorecards track monitoring forms and strategy sheets, but not whether anything changed on the ground (which is often labeled mixed or impossible to verify).
In crises, the impact of the drift becomes impossible to ignore. During the Covid pandemic, post–mortem analysis found that plans existed on paper, but crucial decisions about testing, emergency funds, or travel rules stalled in approval chains. Gaza showed the same pattern. The UN drafted many ceasefire resolutions with overwhelming support (13–1), but a single permanent–member veto stopped them. On the ground, the UNRWA (a humanitarian arm) was ready with aid, but its actions hit roadblocks: crossing borders, passing inspections, requesting more fuel and supplies, and recouping lost donor funding. Each blocker required time–consuming approval processes. The delays slowed action while the death toll climbed.
That said, institutions have dormant power, and we see it in rare cases when leaders treat them as tools—for better or for worse.
Consider the United States. Many commentators assumed international rules would constrain President Trump when his administration started using broad powers to enact tariffs, rewrite asylum rules, and implement travel bans without new legislation. Yet a significant portion of his agenda went into effect. The point isn’t whether these moves were wise, but that the underlying authority was far more flexible than most believed.
We may see a similar dynamic in New York City under mayor–elect Zohran Mamdani. His campaign promises—fare–free buses, universal childcare, a rent freeze—depend on institutional levers which insiders insist aren’t there. Mamdani hasn’t governed yet. But as with Trump, institutions that look rigid may have more room when someone is motivated to find it.
Our institutions can work again if leaders understand two things: the logic behind their original design and the discretion still buried inside them. Success stories share a pattern: clarity about who can act, and a focus on outcomes. Institutions should:
- Devote time to measuring concrete outcomes for abstract goals. When budgets depend on measurable outputs, institutions that have not defined how to measure them risk getting cut
- Decide ahead of time who can act. Banks have been able to move money in days—not years—when emergency windows gave staff permission to act without renegotiating every step.
- Use small, time–bound teams that have clear permissions. Small, temporary disaster “surge” units have succeeded because they take the mandate: “You decide, you move.”
- Give leaders flexibility, but hold them accountable. Decision–making can require unconventional solutions during emergencies, but responsibility of the outcome must lie with the leaders who used them—not the institution.
