Mastodawn

West’s Failure in Information Warfare and Intelligence Strategy

Publication (Outlet/Website): The Good Men Project

Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2025/05/22

Irina Tsukerman is a New York-based human rights and national security lawyer and Scarab Rising, Inc. president. She specializes in information warfare, national security, and geopolitical analysis, focusing on MENA, Eastern Europe, and Central Asia. In an extensive interview, she explains how the West is losing the information war due to weakened public diplomacy, internal targeting, and the rise of hostile state-sponsored narratives. She argues that modern information warfare is non-lethal but strategically disruptive, eroding trust and empowering adversaries like Russia, China, and Iran. Tsukerman highlights the evolution of hybrid warfare, noting Ukraine’s innovative counter-disinformation strategies despite Russia’s sheer volume and persistence. She also examines absurd and dangerous dynamics in intelligence circles, including propaganda tools like Jackson Hinkle, and stresses that real intelligence work is far more mundane than Hollywood’s portrayals. On prisoner exchanges and economic warfare, she critiques both U.S. and Russian short-termism compared to China and Iran’s long-term strategies. She emphasizes the importance of cybersecurity, the rise of cyber militias, and ideological hacker collectives. Finally, she underscores how volatile governance and declining institutional awareness—especially in the U.S.—have created vulnerabilities in intelligence, counterintelligence, and strategic policymaking in a new era of digital-age conflict.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: Today, we are here with Irina Tsukerman. She is a New York-based human rights and national security lawyer and geopolitical analyst. She specializes in national security, information warfare, and foreign policy, focusing on strategic dynamics in the MENA region, Eastern Europe, and Central Asia. She is the president of Scarab Rising, Inc., a media and security strategy firm. With a background in intelligence analysis, she focuses on counterintelligence, hybrid warfare, and the intersection of diplomacy, law, and defence. Her work examines how information warfare and non-state actors influence global security. She frequently comments on U.S. foreign policy, regional conflict, and global risk, contributing to international discourse on sustaining democratic resilience amid authoritarian influence and transnational challenges. Thank you for joining me again. How do you define the current landscape of information warfare? We are not yet hacking people’s brains.

Tsukerman: We are losing the war—by “we,” I mean the West and the U.S.

Information warfare means dominance in the information space. Victory involves influencing perception, shaping decisions, and disrupting adversaries. We’re not making gains. We’re weakening our position by shutting down public diplomacy tools like Voice of America, allowing individuals with foreign allegiances into policymaking, promoting foreign propagandists, and deprioritizing truth and transparency. We’ve turned information operations inward, targeting domestic critics instead of foreign adversaries. This weakens our strategic posture and empowers hostile actors.

By “the other side,” I mean not only adversaries like Russia, China, or Iran but also opportunistic actors exploiting disinformation to weaken democracies. Even neutral states can become conduits for hostile narratives when they see the West as inconsistent.

Jacobsen: How is this more dangerous than conventional warfare?

Tsukerman: It complements conventional warfare. Deception, psychological operations, and influence campaigns have long been part of military strategy—from Sun Tzu to Soviet active measures.

You cannot win militarily without managing perception. What’s changed is the scale and speed of digital technologies, allowing actors to bypass defences and directly target populations. These tactics may be non-lethal but can cause destabilization, incite violence, and erode institutional trust.

Jacobsen: Has the war in Ukraine redefined information or hybrid warfare, or just increased investment?

Tsukerman: It has not redefined it but has highlighted its centrality. Hybrid warfare—integrating military force with cyberattacks, disinformation, and economic coercion—was already key to Russian doctrine, primarily through the Gerasimov Doctrine. The Ukraine war demonstrated how these tools work in tandem.

It forced governments and the public to take information warfare seriously—not as peripheral, but as central to modern conflict.

Information dominance remains information dominance, but the war in Ukraine has fostered new tactics and creativity. Ukraine has been innovative in drawing global attention to its struggle by overcoming Russia’s advantage in sheer volume of output. It has done this by finding allies—particularly in the West—and amplifying its counterintelligence and counter-disinformation efforts.

Russia continues to sway in parts of the West, particularly in the United States. It is not definitively losing even in Europe; despite governmental efforts to contain it and enforce sanctions, it cannot easily be circumvented. Russia has still made notable gains in the political arena, translating to fractures on the battlefield. NATO and EU assistance remains fragmented and contested, with ongoing debates about the scope and impact of support. These political divisions create opportunities for Russia to exploit through information warfare. Even when it is not winning outright, it manages to avoid losing simply by the volume of resources it devotes to the information space.

We see this in the increased Russian budgets for information operations—official propaganda—not including the covert funds from intelligence agencies, which are untraceable. These are public allocations to entities like RT and state-sponsored initiatives in the West. The propagandists involved are not hidden assets but are linked to state institutions. Russia’s century-long history of influence operations gives it an advantage, even when it uses outdated and transparent methods. Its persistence, funding, and reliance on proven strategies give it a lead, especially compared to Ukraine and Western countries that lack the infrastructure or political will to match that effort.

Jacobsen: What is a striking example of how strange or absurd the intelligence and counterintelligence world can become?

Tsukerman: One of the most bizarre examples involves Jackson Hinkle. Some have accused him of secretly working for U.S. intelligence, travelling to adversarial countries to collect information, and avoiding arrest because of it.

In reality, Hinkle began as a far-left activist. As a teenager, he was recruited by Tulsi Gabbard. They both later appeared at an event organized by the widow of Lyndon LaRouche—a fringe U.S. political figure often seen as aligned with Russian interests and known for influencing Ronald Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI). After LaRouche’s death, his widow continued his operations, identifying public figures—journalists, politicians, activists—who could serve as agents of influence.

Hinkle eventually shifted from a hard-left communist stance to a pro-Trump, “MAGA communist” position. His political messaging is now a strange mix of radical leftist ideology and far-right populism. Others in this network include figures like Matt Gaetz and Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who have found platforms and audiences through contrarian politics and amplified visibility, often benefiting from state-aligned propaganda networks.

Hinkle later got engaged to a Russian model, began travelling to Russia, and publicly praised Moscow and Vladimir Putin. He became a vocal propagandist. Initially, he had a minimal social media following—around 1,000 to 1,500 followers. That changed after Elon Musk acquired X (formerly Twitter), where the platform actively promoted and boosted Hinkle. His visibility increased significantly. He began appearing on more platforms, including a podcast with Tulsi Gabbard in 2019, when she was still rising within the Democratic Party, and again in the early 2020s.

Over time, he associated with others in similar circles and gained further exposure. His relationship with the Russian model ended—she reportedly left him partly due to his lack of intellectual depth. While that may not have been the only reason, his limited analytical capacity was a notable issue, even for someone otherwise aligned with his views.

He later travelled to Venezuela, where he was allegedly under the protection of Maduro’s forces for his safety. He ventured into areas where he had no reason to be—even assuming he had any valid reason to be in Venezuela. He also joined a European delegation to Yemen to meet with the Houthis, where he publicly opposed U.S. airstrikes and contradicted official U.S. policy despite his pro-Trump stance. His messaging became increasingly erratic and contradictory. He has also promoted Hamas, although there is no confirmed evidence that he has travelled to Gaza. That may still happen once access is possible, though going to Gaza is highly dangerous.

Despite this, he has been welcomed by various authoritarian regimes. Many have questioned who is funding his extensive travel. So far, there has been no official investigation. After a month-long trip to Moscow—during which he openly promoted Russian interference in U.S. elections—he claimed he was stopped and questioned by TSA upon return and complained about it, asserting his constitutional rights were violated. However, he was not arrested; to my knowledge, there is no formal investigation into his finances or activities.

He continues to travel the world, praising dictatorships, attacking the U.S. and its allies, promoting fringe ideologies, conspiracy theories, antisemitism, and supporting terrorist organizations. He is a clear example of someone likely aligned with foreign intelligence interests. Ironically, some accuse him of being a U.S. intelligence asset using anti-American rhetoric to gain trust in adversarial circles, gather information, and funnel it back. However, there is no evidence supporting that theory.

Surprisingly, nothing is happening to him. But why would it? Even if he publicly disagrees with some U.S. policies, many others do, and they are not investigated. In his case, some who align with his broader messaging may view him as applicable, even if unintentionally.

There is no clear evidence that a foreign government funds its activities. Even if his actions indicate a strong alignment with Russian interests, I doubt he will face any consequences from this administration over the next four years. The only real risk to him would be if he displeased or became a liability to one of the various foreign handlers or networks he may be involved with.

He is highly disposable, not a high-level asset. He holds no official position allowing him to provide Russia, Iran, or any other state with classified intelligence. He is a visible and effective propagandist, not someone with direct access to sensitive information. His value lies in influence, recruitment, and amplification, not espionage.

A different example is Jack Posobiec, who operates within the U.S. and has a background in U.S. military intelligence. He has leveraged those skills to promote conspiracy theories such as Pizzagate, which earned him a large following among what used to be considered the fringe right and also among foreign-aligned audiences. Over time, he and his network moved into more mainstream conservative spaces. He launched media outlets, gained traction, and hosted Republican figures discussing foreign and domestic policy.

He was even invited on a Department of Defense trip as a journalist during the Trump administration, indicating high-level acceptance and normalization of such figures. This raises the question: Why would someone with intelligence training promote narratives aligned with Russian disinformation? Why is someone like that now positioned as a credible media figure?

The answer lies in strategy. The administration actively integrated these personalities into their media ecosystem to replace traditional mainstream journalism. Posobiec is not an anomaly.

Another figure is Paul Joseph Watson, sometimes called “King Paul,” who claimed he was unknowingly paid by Russian entities operating out of a troll factory. He accepted large sums—hundreds of thousands of dollars. This network includes others such as Dave Rubin and Tim Pool. These individuals, once on the fringe, are now embedded in the White House press pool and continue their work. While some have adjusted their messaging to align more closely with official administration narratives, the core infrastructure and influence remain intact.

These are examples of individuals applicable to foreign intelligence goals. There is ample justification for counterintelligence investigations. Yet, instead of scrutiny, these figures are embraced—both by the administration and by the MAGA base. They are held up as alternatives to what is characterized as a “deep state” conspiracy embedded within the traditional intelligence community. Ironically, while the actual intelligence apparatus is being hollowed out by policy and personnel changes, this parallel media-intelligence ecosystem is being strengthened.

These are unusual cases. Typically, intelligence operations rely on low-profile assets to influence policy subtly. Here, overt activity—conspiracy theory promotion, alignment with hostile state narratives, and public engagement—is rewarded and institutionalized. That is what makes it so bizarre and concerning.

Traditionally, someone with foreign ties would present as overtly patriotic—burrowing into institutions, gathering intelligence discreetly, and influencing their environment from within. They would avoid displaying clear links to foreign powers. What we see now is unprecedented: individuals with blatant foreign sympathies are openly promoted, often with institutional support—both from abroad and within the U.S.

Previously, you might see one or two fringe figures strategically elevated to inject certain narratives into mainstream discourse. Even then, they usually had relatively conventional backgrounds—low-level journalists or obscure commentators given visibility by Russia or its allies. Their integration into public life operated within a framework of relative normalcy.

Today, we are witnessing the rise of highly eccentric, attention-seeking personalities—”internet tools” with bizarre and often theatrical backgrounds—who are being elevated and widely embraced. A shift in local culture has made these anomalies more palatable. While this may seem strange, it is still consistent with Russia’s broader strategy: sow chaos, undermine institutional trust, and polarize American society. The tools and characters have changed, but the strategic objectives remain unchanged.

Jacobsen: Are there modern examples of someone like Mata Hari playing both sides?

Tsukerman: Absolutely. A good example involves Congressman Eric Swalwell, a Democrat. He was reportedly targeted by Fang Fang, a Chinese intelligence operative who posed as a civic activist and became romantically involved with several political figures in Washington. Her activities followed a traditional model of espionage: working through social circles, identifying influential targets, and cultivating them.

Despite her open associations with political elites, she ultimately fled the country without consequence. The case was surprisingly public. One would expect more caution—especially from a sitting member of Congress—regarding close association with someone of questionable foreign ties. In past decades, a politician would have exercised more discretion and thorough vetting, particularly when engaging with foreign nationals linked to adversarial states.

But today, we see a broader decline in judgment and diligence. Politicians who once stuck to domestic controversies now seem indifferent even when scandals involve profound national security implications.

Jacobsen: Hollywood has given us this image of intelligence work: lone operatives, secret missions, seductive spies, and Bond villains with henchmen like Oddjob. These are caricatures—but how does real intelligence work compare?

Tsukerman: The reality is far more mundane. Most intelligence operations involve paperwork, bureaucracy, and slow, methodical analysis. Whether it is American officers working under diplomatic cover abroad or foreign agents infiltrating U.S. institutions, much of the work is procedural and administrative.

While covert missions and high-risk operations exist, most activity focuses on information gathering, establishing trust networks, and maintaining plausible deniability. It is rarely glamorous and certainly not cinematic. Intelligence work is about consistency, subtlety, and understanding long-term strategic goals—far removed from the dramatized Hollywood version.

Regardless of cover, all intelligence operatives must file reports, account for funds, follow directives, and engage in careful counterintelligence to avoid detection. Their roles differ, of course. Those operating under diplomatic cover are more restricted in their movements and operations. Their lives may appear more glamorous because they attend official functions, but they must also balance dual roles: performing diplomatic duties while conducting intelligence work covertly.

By contrast, individuals under journalistic or business covers have more freedom to engage and recruit. While all operatives aim to obtain classified information or insights into foreign priorities, not all intelligence work revolves around state secrets. Often, the goal is to develop sources and networks—individuals who can influence policymakers, open doors for future operations, or serve strategic purposes when needed.

Much of this involves understanding the broader environment—political dynamics, economic vulnerabilities, cultural shifts. Intelligence operatives are often embedded in academia, not just politics or government, to monitor intellectual trends and social movements. Academics may be recruited to organize on-campus actions, including protests or advocacy, or as intermediaries between foreign governments and domestic institutions.

Intelligence work spans a range of collection methods, some more visible or glamorous than others. But all of it is high-risk, highly structured, and subject to oversight. Spies cannot simply freelance; even in the most flexible roles, they operate under clear rules that vary by country and agency.

China, for example, operates an expansive intelligence system. It includes not just formal government agencies but also Communist Party-affiliated organizations. This structure allows hundreds of thousands of individuals to participate in data collection and analysis. China’s apparatus significantly exceeds that of the U.S. in scale and explicitly includes industrial espionage as a core objective—something the U.S. does not formally pursue.

U.S. intelligence activity, by contrast, changes with each administration. The current administration has shifted focus toward hybrid models combining law enforcement and intelligence, especially targeting cartels and organized crime. Previous administrations took different paths. For example, the Obama administration emphasized counterterrorism and drone operations in Yemen and Southeast Asia while de-emphasizing traditional human intelligence and great-power espionage.

Jacobsen: Let’s move away from Ukraine for now. A good question to explore is: What are the strategic failures—or sheer absurdities—on both the American and Russian sides when it comes to prisoner or intelligence exchanges? Because frankly, neither country’s leadership impresses me with how they approach intelligence—either as a character trait or a matter of national security.

Tsukerman: So, how are these geopolitical juggernauts behaving in a typical fashion? Let’s unpack some of the more jaw-droppingly absurd, shortsighted, and strategically flawed decisions both Washington and Moscow have made when it comes to high-profile prisoner exchanges.

On the U.S. side, we are witnessing a greatest-hits compilation of strategic missteps. One of the most persistent problems is the habit of trading unevenly. The United States has a longstanding pattern of exchanging chess masters for pawns—giving up convicted arms dealers, spies, or war criminals in exchange for journalists, athletes, or civilian contractors. Are the trades morally defensible? Arguably. Are they strategically consistent? Not.

Take the Brittney Griner–Viktor Bout swap as a prime example. It was a public relations victory but a geopolitical farce. Griner is a beloved celebrity who committed a minor offence. Bout, dubbed the “Merchant of Death,” was a high-value arms trafficker. Yet somehow, Washington considered this a fair trade. The U.S. keeps playing poker like it’s Uno.

Another recurring issue is telegraphing desperation. Both sides of the political aisle have contributed to this. By allowing domestic outrage, social media campaigns, and celebrity lobbying to influence negotiation posture, the U.S. signals to authoritarian regimes that emotional blackmail is effective. That hands them a playbook: detain high-profile Americans—especially those who resonate with progressive activist circles—and watch the White House scramble.

There’s also a fundamental lack of retaliatory structure. The U.S. rarely imposes consequences on regimes engaging in hostage diplomacy. There are no symmetrical detention policies, few systematic diplomatic downgrades, and minimal financial sanctions targeting the individuals responsible. Without a credible stick, every carrot appears to be a weakness.

Then there’s the overreliance on quiet diplomacy. While discreet channels can work, Washington often sticks with them long after adversaries have gone public. The result? America looks slow, reactive, and outmaneuvered—while rogue states control the narrative.

But to be clear, the U.S. is not the only actor making strategically poor decisions.

Russia, for its part, has made its share of reckless choices. It has embraced hostage diplomacy with Cold War-era enthusiasm—arresting journalists on trumped-up espionage charges, detaining consultants on fabricated financial crimes—all in pursuit of leverage over Washington. However, Moscow’s delusion is that it believes this strategy is sustainable.

Over time, these tactics hardened the political resolve of even the most negotiation-friendly factions in the U.S., made neutral states wary of sending citizens to Russia, and further isolated Moscow diplomatically—when it desperately needed non-Western partnerships.

Another misstep is undermining its own claimed “rule of law.” Russia maintains the façade that these arrests and prosecutions follow legal procedure. But in reality, the verdicts are predetermined, and trials are staged. These charades destroy any remaining credibility in Russia’s legal system, especially in the eyes of the international community. While Russia increasingly disregards global opinion, this erosion of trust still matters—particularly in high-stakes international cases.

And then there’s the issue of releasing valuable intelligence assets too cheaply. In its zeal to score propaganda points and humiliate the U.S., Russia has occasionally traded high-value figures like Viktor Bout or embedded spies without securing substantial long-term gains. These are short-term PR wins that sacrifice strategic leverage.

Take the most recent example—Russia extracted significant concessions from the U.S., but not nearly as much as it could have. Moscow enjoys playing with hostages, but sometimes, it gives away strategic assets just to win a meme war. Russian embassies have actively participated in social media meme battles, including around sanctions and trade disputes, reducing serious geopolitical issues to internet theatre.

Another strategic misstep is Russia underestimating how much Global South countries are willing to absorb reputational risk. Using countries like the UAE or Turkey to launder their image through diplomatic channels only works if those states do not feel the international backlash. Russia has often pushed too hard, making itself a liability even among partners it considers reliable. This has already played out with both China and the UAE. When the U.S. began applying pressure on Beijing’s growing influence in the UAE, the Emiratis responded by dialling back certain forms of engagement.

Under the Trump administration, Washington is less concerned about Russia’s presence in the Gulf. This longer-term alignment gives the UAE little incentive to distance itself from Moscow. However, under a different administration, the calculus could shift dramatically.

Both the U.S. and Russia are guilty of turning prisoner exchanges into spectacles rather than strategic tools. For Russia, it is about humiliation and propaganda. For the U.S., it is about closure and virtue signalling. Neither is playing the long game effectively. If you keep trading aces for jokers, you should not be surprised when you run out of leverage.

Compare that to how China and Iran handle hostage diplomacy.

China plays a long, calculated game. It is the ultimate chess master at the international table. If the U.S. and Russia are reckless gamblers chasing short-term wins, China is the strategist—thinking multiple moves ahead. For Beijing, hostages represent geopolitical leverage, not emotional bargaining chips.

Iran, on the other hand, operates more like a shrewd gambler. Its hostage diplomacy is driven by ideological messaging, not purely strategic policy aims. Tehran uses hostages to maintain its narrative of victimhood and resistance while simultaneously applying pressure on Western governments. Hostages become symbols in a broader propaganda campaign, reinforcing the regime’s identity while destabilizing opponents.

Crucially, Iran is patient. It is willing to wait, leveraging time itself as a pressure tool. Iran and China use hostages not for immediate concessions but to extract long-term geopolitical benefits—military agreements, trade deals, or strategic realignments.

By contrast, the U.S. and Russia often engage in emotionally driven exchanges. They respond quickly to public pressure, media narratives, or political urgency—without a comprehensive plan for long-term consequences. The focus tends to be short-term: bring the individual home, win the news cycle, and move on.

China and Iran understand that drawn-out hostage scenarios can create more leverage. They ensure that any exchange is linked to broader strategic objectives, even if the optics are less favourable. In both cases, hostages are not simply political liabilities—they are integrated into a larger ideological and geopolitical framework.

Meanwhile, the U.S. and Russia continue to offer quick fixes—swapping civilians for arms dealers or humanitarian workers for convicted operatives—with little thought given to systemic impact. Public relations triumphs take precedence over durable strategic gain. For China and Iran, hostage diplomacy is part of a long game designed to shape global power dynamics. It remains a reactive, symbolic gesture for the U.S. and Russia—more theatre than strategy.

So, who is playing the long game? The U.S. and Russia’s preference for transactional diplomacy is increasingly outmatched by China’s and Iran’s strategic sophistication. The West must adapt to this shift—or risk becoming another piece on the global chessboard of influence. China and Iran are playing multidimensional, long-term strategy—call it 5D chess, 64D chess, whatever you like—while Washington and Moscow are stuck in tic-tac-toe.

The lesson is clear: when hostage diplomacy becomes a long-term game of influence, the side that takes its time, controls the narrative, and weaves the story into its broader geopolitical strategy will ultimately dominate. If the U.S. and Russia want to regain their footing, they must stop focusing solely on immediate optics—bringing someone home today—and begin thinking about tomorrow’s leverage.

Hostage diplomacy is unlikely to disappear soon, especially without substantial legal consequences or deterrents. It remains a viable tool if criminal liability is weak or unenforced. However, in the grand chess match of international relations, the U.S. and Russia must evolve their approach or risk being outmaneuvered by China and Iran.

There is no shortage of short-term thinking and tactical blunders in the current landscape.

Jacobsen: Are economic tools—like sanctions and energy dependencies—forms of counterintelligence activity? Can they be seen that way, or are they outside that scope?

Tsukerman: Economic tools such as sanctions are primarily foreign policy instruments. They are not, in themselves, counterintelligence activities. However, intelligence plays a vital role in shaping and informing those policies. Intelligence agencies provide the insights needed to design effective sanctions—targeted, disruptive, and strategic.

Economic warfare is designed to weaken or destabilize adversarial states. Intelligence supports that by identifying vulnerabilities, analyzing targets, and evaluating the likely outcomes of such actions. While economic warfare and intelligence are not the same, they are deeply complementary. You cannot wage effective economic warfare without solid, accurate intelligence.

That brings me to a nonsensical example: the U.S. tariffs under the Trump administration.

Who could have predicted that China, with its vast state apparatus, would respond with strategic precision? First, it matched U.S. tariffs with its own. Second, it filed complaints with the World Trade Organization, positioning itself as the defender of free trade. Third, it retaliated by targeting U.S. industries critical to Trump’s political base—agriculture, manufacturing, and key swing states.

This was not unpredictable. It was textbook statecraft. Any administration with functioning intelligence services or access to private firms specializing in Chinese economic policy should have seen it coming.

Instead, the Trump administration sidelined intelligence agencies, mainly due to distrust. The White House avoided relying on the 18 federal intelligence bodies to provide this foresight. It also ignored private sector analysts who could have flagged Beijing’s likely retaliatory strategies.

The result was a foreign policy defined by reaction rather than preparation, optics over outcomes.

What made the situation even more absurd was that the administration did not consult actual experts on China—or even on adversarial economic competitors more broadly—to understand the mood in key capitals or predict how officials might respond. Take Elon Musk, for example. While he frequently engages in business with China and likely had a good sense of Beijing’s likely countermeasures, Trump largely dismissed his input due to Musk’s opposition to protectionist trade policies.

So, we saw a textbook case of China applying strategic foresight—grounded in intelligence and analysis—while the U.S. responded impulsively and without necessity. China carefully studied American political and economic vulnerabilities and responded with precision. Meanwhile, the U.S. approached the situation by “shooting from the hip.”

Jacobsen: What else strikes you as particularly misguided in this scenario? I recently interviewed two authors who wrote an 850-page book on trade and tariffs. They noted two key points that are worth repeating.

First, there is historical precedent for the use of tariffs by the U.S. government, going back over a century. However, at that time, the U.S. economy was more akin to a developing nation seeking to protect emerging domestic industries.

Second, those tariffs were not broad or punitive—they were targeted and strategic, designed to support specific sectors and protect jobs. They were a form of economic policy, not a financial warfare weapon.

Contrast that with the approach under the Trump administration: flat tariffs, across-the-board, often implemented as retaliatory or coercive measures. These were not designed to protect specific American industries but to exert pressure, including on longstanding allies like Canada—the U.S.’s most reliable partner for over 80 years, with whom it shares the world’s longest undefended border.

That shift—from strategic economic policy to indiscriminate economic warfare—was profoundly misguided.

So, the Trump administration essentially declared economic war on the world?

While it did not encompass the whole world, it did encompass a large portion. Depending on how you measure it—by UN member states or global trade partners—we’re discussing tariffs affecting 180 to 190 countries. That includes key allies and economic partners. The remaining states had limited trade relevance to the U.S.—places like the Marshall Islands or Vanuatu—and, ironically, some geopolitical adversaries like Russia, Cuba, and Venezuela.

It resembled a lopsided version of the 2012 UN General Assembly vote on Palestine’s non-member observer status. In that case, only nine countries sided with the U.S. and Israel—some of the usual suspects and a few strategically dependent microstates. The same pattern emerged in Trump’s trade war: broad alienation, minimal alignment, and poorly calculated pressure campaigns.

Tsukerman: The more significant issue here is not just bad policy but the abandonment of intelligence-informed strategy. Instead of using the deep analytical capacity of 18 federal intelligence agencies—or engaging with private firms that specialize in adversarial economic modelling—the administration acted on instinct and optics. That is not just bad economics; it is strategically self-sabotaging. Then you have countries like the Marshall Islands, Nauru—always a favourite—and Tunisia.

Jacobsen: I’ve done many model UN annotations over the years. I do not recall anyone representing the Marshall Islands, Vanuatu, or Nauru. They are often diplomatically invisible in these contexts.

It’s funny—when I went to the Commission on the Status of Women (CSW) for the first time as a freelancer, a family member asked, “Oh, are you going to another MUN thing?” as if it were just another routine, minor event. I had to say, “No, no, this one’s real—a real one this time.”

So, coming back to policy—when the U.S. frames its economic measures as part of a trade war with Canada, arguably its single most important financial and military ally, then by extension, it implies that every other nation—none of which share that depth of alliance—is effectively being treated as an adversary. That’s a reasonable conclusion.

So does that make all of them, in effect, targets in an undeclared economic warfare zone?

Tsukerman: That’s one interpretation—and not an unreasonable one. The problem is that even within the Trump administration, the justification for these measures kept shifting. It was never clear what the fundamental objective was. One day, it was about protecting American manufacturing; another day, it was about correcting trade deficits; and another, national security. The messaging was inconsistent.

Take Canada, for example. At one point, the U.S. wanted to pressure Ottawa to buy more American products. That could have been negotiated diplomatically. But if the true aim was something unrelated to trade—something more geopolitical—then it was never publicly defined.

Even Prime Minister Trudeau’s reciprocal tariffs were eventually removed after discussions with Mark Carney, but there has been no formal, consistent response from the White House. Negotiations Negotiations may be happening, but the goals and framework remain unclear.

This inconsistency extends beyond Canada. Look at South Korea and Japan. The administration claimed both could receive partial tariff relief if they purchased more U.S. liquefied natural gas (LNG). But those countries were already planning to do so—they are energy-import dependent, and the U.S. is now a top producer. Then, suddenly, the administration suspended the entire tariff policy for 90 days without explaining whether those conditions still applied.

Then there is the European Union. The administration demanded $350 billion in energy purchases as a form of “reparation” for past trade imbalances—essentially turning diplomatic negotiations into transactional ultimatums.

This reflects a broader issue: the U.S. forfeits leverage without strategic clarity or continuity. Allies do not know where they stand, adversaries sense confusion, and long-term planning becomes impossible. There’s no cohesive doctrine—just a pattern of improvisation dressed up as strength.

I did not even realize the U.S. had longstanding grievances with Japan and the EU over automotive trade—at least not ones grounded in current economic reality. The claim is that American products, particularly cars, are being excluded from foreign markets, but that does not tell the whole story. Japanese and European consumers tend not to buy American cars because they are not suited to their needs. European cities, for example, often have narrow streets and compact urban layouts—people there prefer smaller, fuel-efficient vehicles. U.S. cars, by contrast, are built for space and highway driving.

The reverse is also true. Americans are not lining up to buy French Peugeots. And while some of that might be cultural—sure, there is a segment of the American public that still harbours anti-French sentiment—the reality is that many of those vehicles just do not fit American preferences for size, utility, or design. It is not about tariffs or trade barriers. It is about different markets, geographies, and consumer behaviours.

The U.S. once had a thriving, self-contained automotive industry, but those days are long gone. We are now in a global supply chain era. Components are sourced from different countries, assembled in others, and sold globally. The idea that countries must reciprocally buy the same products to satisfy “fair trade” is outdated. Instead, the focus should be on participation in diversified trade networks that reflect economic reality.

It is absurd to argue that a small Eastern European country—with narrow, cobblestone streets—should buy oversized U.S. trucks.

Jacobsen: Imagine sending a Hummer through the streets of Moldova without suspension. I remember when I flew into Chișinău, Moldova, right after surgery. From the airport, I took a bus to Odessa with a Romanian friend of mine, Remus, who is now a journalist and was a politician at the time. That trip was three or four hours—and once we left the capital, we were off-roading almost immediately. I have a video on my phone. It looked like we were navigating dirt trails in rural North America—but in an old, rickety bus. You are exhausted, jet-lagged, and just trying to sleep while tossed around. That’s not the terrain for American sedans or SUVs.

So, when American officials talk about reciprocity in the automotive trade, they often miss the fundamental mismatch between economic, geographic, and infrastructural markets.

This also reflects a broader misunderstanding about global purchasing power. For example, Moldova’s per capita purchasing power parity (PPP) is about twice that of Ghana, which is considered one of Africa’s wealthier nations. That gap underscores the economic diversity not just between continents but within Europe itself.

So, expecting exact, one-to-one reciprocity in trade—especially in consumer goods—makes no sense in this context. What the U.S. should be doing is adapting its expectations to the economic realities, infrastructure, and needs of its partners rather than framing the non-purchase of American goods as adversarial behaviour.

Failing to teach Americans basic geography, cultural awareness, and global economic literacy has long-term consequences. When you remove education about how the world works, it undermines your economic competitiveness. As you mentioned earlier, there is an increasingly blurry line between economics and intelligence. Understanding another country’s financial landscape is not just good diplomacy—it is critical for domestic economic planning.

Tsukerman: This brings us to the role of information warfare, which is deeply embedded in these dynamics. Russia, unsurprisingly, remains the top beneficiary of U.S. strategic confusion. For example, the Russian embassy in Kenya recently released a meme that perfectly encapsulates its messaging strategy. It showed a Black man lying down and smoking, draped in a Russian flag, looking above a chaotic scene below—where individuals wearing U.S., EU, and Chinese flags were fighting over tariffs. The message was clear: “Let the others scramble while Russia remains above the fray.”

However, this kind of information warfare is not only aimed outward. Increasingly, it is being turned inward—against the American public. Economic warfare is part of that strategy.

The biggest losers in this indiscriminate economic warfare are not Botswana, Lesotho, or other peripheral trade partners—they are American businesses and consumers. Countries like China, Japan, and Germany are major trade players. However, the economic disruptions caused by poorly conceived tariffs do not hurt foreign governments as much as small and medium-sized U.S. enterprises and working-class households.

Before the Trump administration, most Americans were not particularly concerned about trade deficits. The average person focuses on quality of life, inflation, job stability, and the economy’s overall health. If those things were trending upward—if their families were secure and their futures looked promising—there was no political pressure over trade policy. People cared about whether their lives improved, not abstract economic imbalances with other nations.

Then came Trump’s rhetoric: telling Americans they were being “ripped off,” that other countries were “taking advantage” of them, and that trade deficits were an existential threat. This was pure information warfare—a form of domestic propaganda. It manufactured outrage where none previously existed and created a false sense of economic grievance.

This brand of economic nationalism introduced an artificial crisis. It redefined trade as a zero-sum game and convinced people that benefits enjoyed by others were losses for Americans. But this was not true—and it never had to be. It was not a problem until it was turned into one.

Meanwhile, real economic issues—wage stagnation, healthcare costs, climate-linked infrastructure stress, and wealth inequality—were sidelined to fight imaginary battles. The result is real damage: disrupted global supply chains, alienated allies, and a misinformed public.

The question is: Why would any administration introduce a problem that did not exist—and turn it into a political focal point? That is not governance. That is manipulation. And the consequences will take years to undo, regardless of who holds office next.

Unless you’re deliberately focusing public attention on something that was never a priority, that is information warfare—strategically using messaging to manipulate public perception and guide people in a specific direction. In this case, it was toward antagonism: against foreign countries, allies, neighbours, and even fellow citizens.

People who had never seen a problem before were suddenly consumed by it—fixated on trade imbalances, “unfair” global competition, and supposed foreign exploitation. Meanwhile, they were no longer paying attention to the real issues being generated domestically: the rollback of anti-corruption laws, the weakening of the intelligence apparatus, and the mass firing of government scientists—including cancer researchers—which threatens long-term U.S. dominance in scientific innovation.

If this is not information warfare, then nothing is. This is a textbook case of public manipulation—redirecting attention away from consequential, structural problems toward manufactured crises.

Jacobsen: So, if governments and political bodies are to be adequately educated on propaganda systems and information warfare, how effective can counterintelligence be in these situations?

Tsukerman: That’s a critical question. Yes, you can educate agencies and political institutions on how propaganda works. And yes, that can inform more effective counterintelligence strategies. But one of the major problems is that the psyops—psychological operations—are not being waged by foreign actors alone. Increasingly, they’re being waged by the government itself against its population.

Many Americans do not recognize it because they do not understand what information operations look like at scale. They do not realize they are being primed and conditioned. Often, they are even told precisely what is happening—but they do not interpret the language correctly.

For example, early in his presidency, Trump stated clearly that he values volatility. He did not say disruption—he said volatility. That distinction matters. Disruption might lead to reform or reorganization. Volatility, on the other hand, is chaos. It signals intentional unpredictability.

That was not an accident. He was broadcasting his governing philosophy, but people dismissed it or conflated it with generic political turbulence. In reality, Trump announced that he would be an agent of chaos. And that is precisely the role he has played.

There is no consistent tariff policy, not because he cannot formulate one, but because consistency would allow others—domestically and internationally—to prepare, respond, and push back. Volatility denies that. If you cannot predict what comes next, you cannot develop an effective counterstrategy.

This strategy serves multiple purposes: it generates short-term economic opportunities for a select few, keeps foreign leaders off balance, and emotionally and cognitively destabilizes the domestic public. It turns governance into a political and economic rollercoaster and, in doing so, stifles coordinated opposition.

Jacobsen: During his first term, people closely monitored Trump’s Twitter feed because it often dictated real-time policy. That alone should tell us everything about the volatility model he was deliberately advancing. It was never meant to be rational, and that’s the point—it was meant to be unpredictable.

During Trump’s second term, I have not noticed people reacting with the same anxiety about his social media presence. Instead, I see a population in chronic, low-level crisis mode during the first 80 to 90 days—what my friend calls being hit by “the firehose.”

Tsukerman: From a psychological operations perspective, if you want to condition people and shape a certain mindset over time, you start by overwhelming them with constant, chaotic commentary—most of which leads to nothing substantive. The purpose is to inoculate the public. People become desensitized. They say, “Yes, he talks trash, but things seem stable. Some things are even going okay.” They learn not to take what he says seriously.

That’s when the real manipulation can begin. When people stop reacting to the noise, they stop paying attention. Then, you hit them with messy, erratic policy shifts. And because they have tuned out the rhetoric, they also miss the structural changes being enacted under the surface.

Now, there is some genuine incompetence at play here. For instance, the signal leaks during his presidency were more about mismanagement than any grand design. But how those incidents were handled—how the administration reacted—was often deliberate. So, while some moments reflect normal government dysfunction, the broader strategy of constant disruption is intentional.

The goal is to flood the public sphere with too many crises simultaneously. The effect is cognitive overload: people cannot focus long enough on any single issue to organize or respond effectively. It prevents them from forming durable opposition or building a counterstrategy.

This is also why we are seeing fewer protests and rallies—not necessarily because people are less outraged, but because they are too mentally and emotionally fragmented to keep up with the pace of disruption.

Jacobsen: This is a good pivot point: Discuss cyber espionage. Do China and Russia conduct cyber operations against each other? We often focus on their collaboration, but they also have unresolved territorial disputes. The Soviets took Chinese land, and the Chinese have not forgotten that. Let’s explore how that history plays out in the digital sphere.

What about purported allies? Many of these regimes present public unity—gestures of alliance, shared press conferences, joint statements. We’ve heard a lot about growing ties between countries like China and Russia, Iran and Russia, and North Korea. But do these states conduct counterintelligence operations against one another behind the scenes?

Tsukerman: Absolutely. Counterintelligence efforts are not just reserved for traditional adversaries, particularly among authoritarian regimes. Even among so-called allies, espionage and surveillance remain very much in play. These relationships are often transactional and strategic, not built on deep trust.

Some rivalries are evident in the global cyber-espionage landscape—like the one between the U.S. and China. That is a reasonably straightforward contest, almost cartoonish in its predictability. They constantly engage in high-stakes surveillance and counter-surveillance, with economic and national security secrets at the core.

However, the cyber relationship between Russia and China is more complex. Think of it less like a Cold War chess match and more like a cyberpunk thriller—equal parts cooperation and subversion. They are frequently described as allies, but in reality, I would categorize them more as frenemies: aligned in public posture, especially against the West, but constantly maneuvering against each other in private.

Despite shared interests in undermining Western influence, they are fierce competitors behind the curtain. Their battles are not just about data or secrets but about control over global infrastructure and long-term digital dominance. This is a cyber Cold War within the broader geopolitical Cold War. Data is the new oil in this arena, and espionage no longer requires trench coats and shadowy meetings in alleys. It comes in untraceable malware, surveillance software, and digital incursions that leave no fingerprints.

It might surprise some, but the rivalry between the Russian bear and the Chinese dragon is real and deeply rooted in history.

Let’s go back for a moment. Russia and China have had a complicated relationship for centuries, defined by fluctuating territorial disputes—particularly around Siberia—ideological divergences, and even outright border conflicts. The most well-known episode is the Sino-Soviet split of the 1960s, one of the most fascinating chapters of the original Cold War. These two former allies—initially bonded by communism—eventually turned on each other over ideological differences.

Mao Zedong’s radical Marxism—what would evolve into Maoism—clashed with Nikita Khrushchev’s more reformist, de-Stalinized Soviet model. Khrushchev had attempted to dismantle Stalin’s cult of personality and initiated political rehabilitation for thousands of prisoners. Mao viewed this as an ideological betrayal.

Fast-forward to today, and we find a new ideological confrontation between the two: cyber dominance. While China and Russia have, at times, distanced themselves from each other—China focusing on economic development, Russia pursuing geopolitical muscle-flexing—they’ve both risen to the top of the cyber-espionage food chain.

Yet, their methods and motivations remain distinct.

While they occasionally cooperate on cyber operations against the West, they also spy on each other. Both hack indiscriminately when they see an advantage—but their endgames differ.

For Russia, cyberspace is an extension of geopolitical warfare. Information dominance is a way to influence elections, destabilize societies, and assert Russia’s presence on the global stage, even as its conventional power wanes.

Russia’s cyber espionage strategy is rooted in a legacy of KGB-style secrecy, subversion, and aggression. Since the Cold War, Moscow has treated intelligence as an indispensable tool for maintaining its geopolitical position. The digital revolution has not changed that; it has only expanded the toolkit. Unlike the United States, Russia has embraced the cyber domain as a core component of its information warfare strategy, which remains more cautious and reactive.

Moscow’s primary objective is not to build economic advantage—it is to undermine Western institutions, disrupt democratic processes, and destabilize societies. Its tactics are far-reaching, highly covert, and deliberately provocative, often executed through hacking campaigns, disinformation, and cyberattacks on critical infrastructure.

Groups like Fancy Bear and Cozy Bear—both Russian state-linked actors—symbolize this approach. Russia’s use of the “bear” motif is no coincidence; it is a projection of national identity and power. These groups operate like phantoms, skilled at avoiding detection and attribution, relying on a well-developed tradition of strategic denial and plausible deniability.

Russia has transferred its human intelligence model into cyberspace. Its cyber operations focus on acquiring political, military, and economic intelligence that can tip the strategic balance. However, unlike China, Russia’s cyber strategy is not primarily about economic growth or industrial advantage. It is about geopolitical leverage.

The aim is to weaken adversaries rather than elevate Russia. This mindset is deeply rooted in Soviet-era doctrine and arguably pre-Soviet imperial strategy. Russia’s approach is not focused on “winning” in absolute terms. It is more about ensuring that others lose. Destabilization is the goal. Cyber tools influence narratives, manipulate public opinion, and sow discord. These are not economic attacks but political and psychological operations.

This emphasis on relative power, rather than economic supremacy, reflects the nature of Russian governance itself: control through disruption, influence through fear, and power through perceived strength—even when materially weak.

China, by contrast, operates under an entirely different set of imperatives.

The Chinese Communist Party views cyber operations as a tool to accelerate its economic ascendancy. China seeks dominance, not through ideological warfare or sabotage but through systematic industrial espionage, financial integration, and long-term strategic planning.

Beijing does not want an equal global playing field. It wants to lead it—primarily through economic dominance, though military capacity is developing in parallel. China’s cyber operations reflect this. Groups such as APT10 and APT1 are known for conducting long-term, highly targeted campaigns to steal intellectual property, technological designs, and sensitive corporate data.

These campaigns span industries: aerospace, artificial intelligence, pharmaceuticals, telecommunications, and defence. The objective is not to cause chaos, as Russia might, but to steal the crown jewels of technological innovation, allowing China to leapfrog over its competitors.

Where Russia’s cyberattacks are often loud and destabilizing, China’s are quiet, strategic, and cumulative. Over time, this approach not only boosts China’s domestic industries but also erodes the competitive edge of its global rivals, particularly the United States and Europe.

China has allocated vast resources to stealing foreign technologies and developing its capabilities. It is all tightly integrated. China’s cyber espionage strategy operates like a large-scale, state-sanctioned campaign of “pillage and plunder”—stealing cutting-edge research and intellectual property to accelerate its domestic innovation. The goal is to leapfrog over traditional R&D challenges by acquiring the best global ideas—whether from Silicon Valley, European labs, or elsewhere—and adapting them for use.

We have seen this repeatedly, including in areas like 5G networks, smartphone technology, and various so-called “breakthroughs” that were at least partially derived from appropriated foreign IP.

Russia and China use cyber tools for surveillance and espionage, but China’s focus on economic espionage enables it to play the long game. While Russia often seeks short-term disruption, China’s cyber operations are systemic and strategic. For Russia, information warfare is a pressure valve—a way to destabilize and dominate its adversaries quickly. It is impatient and focused on immediate impact. In contrast, China treats cyber espionage as a core element of its national economic strategy. For Beijing, hacking is simply business as usual.

So why the rivalry, given their shared interest in undermining the West?

The answer lies in their fundamentally different long-term visions. Russia sees cyberspace as a tool to retain global influence and punch above its economic weight through strategic destabilization. Conversely, China uses cyberspace to build economic dominance, expand digital infrastructure, and maintain internal political control. These divergent geopolitical versus economic goals inevitably lead to conflict in the cyber domain.

Even though both nations’ postures as allies against the West, historic mistrust, and unresolved territorial tensions continue to simmer beneath the surface, the rivalry has intensified as both countries have become more capable of using the digital sphere. Each seeks to dominate emerging technologies—from AI to cyberweapons to data sovereignty.

Neither side is willing to cede ground or share control over the digital future.

The tension is further compounded by China’s efforts to steal Russian-developed technologies, especially in sensitive areas where China has failed to make independent breakthroughs. In this way, China treats Russia no differently than the U.S. or Europe—a source of value to exploit. Russia has become increasingly protective of its military technologies, cyber capabilities, and scientific assets. Active counterintelligence work is being conducted within Russia to prevent Chinese social engineering, hacking, and infiltration attempts.

That said, none of this rivalry plays out openly.

Moscow and Beijing understand the strategic value of presenting a unified front against the West. Their internal disputes are handled quietly, in the shadows. To the untrained observer, the partnership appears seamless. However, intelligence services worldwide are well aware of this underlying tension. It is recognized in security and diplomatic circles, though it has not become a focus of Western foreign policy.

And that is a missed opportunity. The West has not fully allocated the resources to monitor, expose, or strategically exploit this rivalry. It has not invested in amplifying Russia’s and China’s paranoia or used it as a tool of information warfare to disrupt their collaboration. The ability to do so exists—it has not been prioritized.

Jacobsen: So, what does the future of intelligence and counterintelligence look like when quantum systems or advanced algorithms can potentially crack any encryption or intercept any system?

Tsukerman: That’s an entire conversation—but a vital one. Fundamentally, there’s no such thing as a permanently unhackable or perfectly defended system. Cybersecurity is an ongoing arms race—a constant back-and-forth between innovation and intrusion. Human and AI design ingenuity will continue to push forward while adversaries respond with increasingly sophisticated breach methods.

Quantum computing could significantly shift the playing field, but we are not there yet. Until quantum-secure methods are fully mainstream, we are still in a reactive cycle: creating new protections, watching hackers break through them, and deploying penetration testers to simulate the next exploit.

This pattern will persist until we completely overhaul how cybersecurity is conceptualized and implemented. But even then, the human factor remains the perpetual vulnerability. As long as people are involved in systems—designing, maintaining, or accessing them—there will always be room for error, manipulation, and social engineering.

Deepfakes, voice cloning, and AI-enhanced phishing schemes have made social engineering more challenging to detect. While countermeasures are evolving, they are not perfect. Even the most secure companies and agencies with strong counterintelligence can miss creative new threats from obscure groups operating outside of visibility.

Jacobsen: Are private cyber militias or independent cyber groups now a serious concern on the global stage? Or are they still relatively marginal?

Tsukerman: They are growing, especially as official state policies run into logistical and political limitations. Governments are beginning to outsource offensive cyber operations to private groups, and defensive needs are outpacing institutional capacity. Civilian infrastructure, smaller businesses, and entire economic sectors are vulnerable and often not prioritized by national defence frameworks.

Organizing defensive militias or cyber volunteer brigades could help protect vulnerable systems—banks, utilities, healthcare networks, and more. But this is a double-edged sword.

These groups are only as effective as their training, coordination, ethics, and oversight. Without rigorous accountability, private cyber entities can become destabilizing forces. They might act independently of national interest, pursue private agendas, get caught in internal rivalries and ideological splits, or even become infiltrated themselves.

In worst-case scenarios, rogue cyber militias could provoke international incidents, escalate conflicts with foreign states, or clash with their governments. Such groups will inevitably continue to emerge as cybersecurity becomes more decentralized—but without strong governance frameworks, this trend could backfire catastrophically.

Jacobsen: What about semi-autonomous, high-tech enclaves—regions or cities with advanced cybersecurity infrastructure that function independently, like a digital-age Silicon Valley with sovereignty?

Tsukerman: That is a dangerous possibility. You’re referring to things like seasteading, I assume.

Jacobsen: The idea came from the Seasteading Institute, founded in 2008 by Patri Friedman—Milton Friedman’s grandson—and partially funded by Peter Thiel. The goal was to create floating cities outside national jurisdictions.

Tsukerman: I know it well. Frankly, it sounds like the dark web turned physical. It would not be about freedom if someone like Peter Thiel were truly in charge of such a venture. It would be about power.

Jacobsen: These would be libertarian island fiefdoms.

Tsukerman: They would be governed not by democratic consensus but by philosopher-kings with extreme ideologies, authoritarian leanings, and no real checks on their rule. These projects are often utopian escapes from bureaucracy and inefficiency, but they are power consolidation experiments.

It is not about anarchism or freedom. It is about replacing state institutions with corporate dominance, creating unaccountable parallel systems often hostile to democratic norms.

Jacobsen: It reminds me of the Matrix side stories. In one, the AIs built City 01—a manufacturing hub that outcompeted human cities. Negotiations broke down when they approached the UN, and things got ugly.

Tsukerman: It’s not too far-fetched when you consider the real-world implications of seasteading or private cyber-states. Without accountability and shared ethical frameworks, these projects can easily evolve into unregulated authoritarian zones, destabilizing the global order economically, politically, and technologically.

Jacobsen: After the human-machine war—from the machine’s point of view—it was the humans oppressing the early humanoid robots before they evolved into multi-tech, tentacle-limbed floaters shooting lasers. Are there aspects of counterintelligence today that seem like science fiction?

Tsukerman: Absolutely. Some facets of intelligence and counterintelligence strategy already mirror science fiction in tone and scope. Take predictive analysis and technological countermeasures, for instance. These efforts involve identifying adversarial tech trends and preemptively developing tools to neutralize them—sometimes even before they emerge fully into the public or military domain.

Programs like IARPA—the civilian intelligence equivalent of DARPA—exist precisely for this reason. IARPA is tasked with pioneering futuristic intelligence collection, analysis, and defence technologies, including in counterintelligence contexts. Some initiatives involve quantum sensors, next-gen encryption, autonomous surveillance systems, and other projects that read like speculative fiction.

But while parts of this world feel visionary, critical policy failures keep the U.S. from genuinely succeeding in this realm.

Take, for example, the case of Havana Syndrome. The GRU, a Russian intelligence agency, is widely believed to have deployed a highly innovative sonic or directed-energy weapon capable of neurological disruption. It has reportedly caused long-term cognitive and physical damage to dozens of U.S. personnel—intelligence officers, diplomats, and government officials. At least one CIA officer is known to have died, and several others have suffered permanent harm.

Despite lawsuits, media investigations, and successful settlements with victims, multiple U.S. administrations have refused to acknowledge that this is an act of hostile aggression publicly. The explanations offered have ranged from psychosomatic to environmental factors. However, that dismissal contradicts internal assessments and the intelligence community’s findings.

This kind of willful blindness stems from the reluctance to escalate. Admitting that Russia has deployed a covert weapon on American personnel would require either a covert response or public confrontation, which could dangerously heighten tensions. So, instead, the response has been denial.

The weapon is not entirely new in theory—it is an enhanced form of earlier technology—but it is highly effective and strategically deployed. It is lightweight, operable at short and possibly growing long-range distances, and deliberately designed to leave few traces.

So yes, counterintelligence today involves science-fiction-like tools, but too often, it’s contained by institutional inertia and fear of geopolitical consequences.

Jacobsen: We have not yet touched on North Korea, another unique case. Let me compare it with the other players first.

With Iran, you have a semi-rational theocracy rooted in a long-term ideological framework—the Velayat-e Faqih system. They pursue regional dominance and survival through relatively predictable, fanatical means. China, meanwhile, operates with pragmatic authoritarianism infused with cultural continuity—a blend of ancient traditions, ancestor reverence, and Party discipline.

For all its drama, Russia often operates like a seasoned gambler—a bit of a drunk uncle archetype with a few reliable cards: oil, intimidation, and counterintelligence. But its methods are familiar.

But North Korea is something else entirely. It functions as if Scientology metastasized into a national government centralized around a single ethnic group. It is a necrocracy—rule by the dead, as Christopher Hitchens sharply observed. The Kim dynasty is worshipped as semi-divine, and the regime operates more like a totalitarian cult than a standard authoritarian government.

Tsukerman: This makes North Korea extremely unpredictable. It is deeply isolationist, self-mythologizing, and oriented around dynastic survival above all else. It pursues nuclear weapons not merely as geopolitical leverage but as sacred symbols of national immortality. Its cyber operations—like Lazarus Group—are less about espionage and more about financial survival and deterrence, with occasional ideological flare.

In short, North Korea is not playing the same game as China, Russia, or Iran. It is a sealed system, ideologically self-reinforcing, and capable of irrational escalations that defy conventional analysis.

Jacobsen: I suppose North Korea has a trinity of a necrocracy—the two deceased leaders and the son as the living symbol. Under that regime, based on those now-famous satellite images of the Korean peninsula at night, it’s essentially a black zone, save for a small illuminated capital—Pyongyang. So how does counterintelligence work for them, especially since North Korea seems like a modest partner within the Russia-Iran-China axis maneuvering for global influence?

Tsukerman: Regarding intelligence—not economics or conventional diplomacy—North Korea is not a junior partner. In fact, in some ways, it operates as a peer.

North Korean intelligence is highly competent, sometimes even mistaken for Chinese intelligence because of stylistic and operational similarities. Their cyber capabilities have grown tremendously, especially in cryptocurrency theft—now one of their primary funding mechanisms. These crypto heists help sustain both the regime’s security apparatus and its covert international operations. Due to North Korea’s Korean pariah status and inability to engage through normal financial channels, they also serve as a means of financial exchange with non-state actors, including terrorist groups.

They have become proficient at social engineering, successfully infiltrating Western tech companies by having operatives apply for jobs under false identities. Many of these companies failed to conduct proper due diligence, especially in remote work contexts where face-to-face verification was absent. As a result, North Korean hackers were hired into fundamental corporate roles—essentially embedding the regime’s warfare agents inside foreign technology firms.

Jacobsen: And what about the counterintelligence efforts from China, Russia, or Iran—do they direct those against North Korea?

Tsukerman: In general, that is not a top priority. The dynamic is more nuanced.

China, for instance, is hyper-paranoid about North Korea spiralling out of control. It closely monitors and tries to manage Pyongyang, but not necessarily through aggressive counterintelligence. It is more about containment and control.

Russia, at the moment, is more interested in using North Korean soldiers as expendable assets in Ukraine. Reports suggest Moscow is deploying them for combat, and predictably, many of them are being killed off. Russia may view this as a kind of pressure release valve—it gets North Korean support, and in return, it reduces any perceived threat by simply grinding down the workforce.

Iran, by contrast, sees North Korea as highly useful. Tehran has long benefited from the DPRK’s expertise and missile technologies, and there are credible reports of cooperation in those areas. Iran is far less suspicious of Pyongyang than Russia or China. It sees North Korea as a quiet enabler of its ambitions.

What does North Korea gain from these partnerships? Several things:

Legitimacy—Normalized relations with countries like Nicaragua and increasingly with others create the appearance of a functioning, sovereign player rather than a rogue outcast.
Resources—Financial assistance, food, energy, and tech components—often in exchange for military supplies, arms, or services.
Diplomatic openings—Some European countries are even quietly reopening or reengaging with North Korea through diplomatic missions.

So yes, North Korea is still authoritarian and closed, but it is less isolated than it was in the 1990s. That shift has been fueled by:

Weak sanctions enforcement
Normalization of nuclear weapons status
Growing strategic ties with Russia, China, and Iran
Exploiting Russia during the Ukraine War

Of course, there is some distrust within this bloc. No one fully trusts Kim Jong Un. He is viewed as erratic, unpredictable, and highly self-interested—but I would stop short of calling him “crazy.” His ac” ions are often coldly calculated, even if eccentric in presentation. Because of that unpredictability, all his partners maintain some distance and redundancy in their dealings with him.

Kim is calculating, cunning, and duplicitous in some ways. That combination—psychological unpredictability paired with a reasonably strategic mind—makes him dangerous.

Jacobsen: Do you see any parallels between Trump’s Trump’s behaviour and his?

Tsukerman: It is a strange comparison, but yes, in a limited sense. Both exhibit a volatile mix of impulsiveness and calculation, which makes their diplomacy highly personalized and unpredictable. However, Kim is sharper than he’s often given credit for. He plays a long game for survival, and while his behaviour may seem erratic, it is often tactically sound within the narrow scope of regime preservation.

The dynamic between Trump and Kim was surreal. Trump tried to lure Kim with offers that included developing North Korean beaches—yes, beachfront real estate—if Kim agreed to denuclearize. Kim, predictably, did not go for it.

Jacobsen: So basically, a “Pyongyang Mar-a-Lago”?

Tsukerman: Right, and I’m not joking. Trump tried the same pitch in Gaza later, essentially repurposing the beach-development-for-peace model.

Jacobsen: Think of it as going from one geopolitical potato to another potato: “Let’s Mar-a-Lago.”

Tsukerman: You can almost picture a golf course in the middle of a blacked-out country. There is no electricity anywhere but fairways and sand traps ready for symbolic diplomacy. Of course, that proposal went nowhere, but do not rule out Trump reviving the idea. If he achieves—or fails—whatever he aims for with Iran, he may return to North Korea for another “historic” breakthrough.”

Kim would gladly take a meeting. He sees value in photo ops, potential sanctions relief, and international legitimacy. He will play hardball to get it, but he also knows how to flatter Trump and feed his ego in exchange for concessions that cost him nothing.

Kim closely monitors developments with Russia, the U.S.-China trade conflict, and Iran talks. He assesses how his partners fare in negotiations with the Trump administration and recalibrates his strategy accordingly.

What is particularly concerning is the absence of North Korean experts in the current U.S. administration. There is no John Bolton figure—someone who, for all his flaws, at least understood North Korea’s Korean mechanics. That expertise vacuum leaves the U.S. unprepared for the subtleties of DPRK engagement, particularly if Kim makes another aggressive diplomatic push.

Jacobsen: Let us bookmark two topics for later: one on torture and one more counterintelligence-focused—specifically, a country that punches way above its weight per capita. So, as far as I know—as an academic question and an empirical fact—by and large, torture does not work, or at least, it does not work for the intended purposes of intelligence gathering. Because people are being tortured, they are often motivated to lie or to accept lies told about them just to stop the pain.

So, with that in mind—and considering the ongoing ignorance of many actors within global counterintelligence apparatuses—how much is torture still used? But the point is that torture is still in use. How pervasively is it used? And in light of the evidence, why is it still used if it is?

Tsukerman: In terms of the U.S., there is a distinction between what is termed “enhanced interrogation techniques” and outright torture. Enhanced interrogation includes physical and psychological methods of pressure that stop short of what is traditionally considered torture. These methods can involve sleep deprivation, stress positions, and, controversially, waterboarding. Some classify waterboarding as torture, while others consider it an enhanced interrogation method that has occasionally yielded viable results.

The case of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed—infamously or famously, depending on your perspective—is often cited as one such instance.

More traditional torture, like severe beatings or having fingernails pulled out, is a different category entirely. That kind of extreme physical abuse tends to cloud judgment. If the subject is sufficiently trained, prepared mentally or physically, drugged, or otherwise conditioned, torture will not necessarily be effective.

It is also not typically useful for eliciting complex or narrative information. Suppose you want someone to tell a coherent story or to become a serious cooperative asset, that usually requires a relationship built on something more stable than raw fear. When someone is that reluctant and resistant, extreme force is more likely to shut them down than open them up.

The U.S. understands this, which is why it has developed highly sophisticated psychological techniques to gather intelligence—methods designed to bypass lying, manipulation, and even mind control. I am referring here to indoctrinated or brainwashed individuals who are used as “dangles” in counterintelligence scenarios.

These advanced techniques are now also being applied in private-sector contexts for various purposes—not only in counterintelligence but also in due diligence efforts in workplaces and corporate environments.

As for why torture is still used, often, it is not about obtaining accurate information. Its use remains fairly widespread globally. In more developed countries, they may refer to different levels of interrogation: first-degree being non-coercive questioning, second-degree aligning with the U.S.’s enhanced interrogation, and third-degree encompassing methods that would likely be classified as torture in the United States.

Even then, these may not be as brutal as those used by fully authoritarian regimes, but they still cross ethical lines. For example, they may involve slapping or hitting a person—not necessarily pulling out nails, but using enough physical coercion to break someone’s will without pushing them into complete shutdown.

Sometimes, these mild coercive methods are used not against hardened spies or terrorists but against regular criminals or individuals involved in various disputes. The goal is to break their resistance and compel cooperation—even if it is unreliable.

That may work. It may work on a regular person—that sort of mild coercion, low-level torture, the so-called third degree.

However, of course, there are reasons why various regimes use far more extensive torture than that. The mild approach probably would not work in those cases. And sometimes, it is not because they are looking for accurate information. They are just looking to confirm what their regimes have already put out. There are a lot of authoritarian and semi-authoritarian regimes around the world, and they use those techniques extensively.

Not all of them are equally brutal. Some are very concerned about not using anything that will induce severe or permanent injuries. So, will they probably beat someone up? Yes. Are they going to use extremely forceful techniques? Only some more extreme or Western regimes might go that far—but not the semi-authoritarian ones. They would probably use some mixture of strong, enhanced interrogations—some leaking and some non-permanent but painful techniques to elicit information.

Sometimes, it is to confirm the official narrative. They are not necessarily looking to gain new insights into anything; they want to force the person to acquiesce to something.

Other times, it is about revenge. It is less about information and more about punishing whoever is in custody. If you are dealing with a known terrorist, there is often a strong internal drive not to treat them well—because they are seen as a known bad actor or a known threat to the regime or government. So, in those cases, torture is not about gaining information. It is about humiliating and breaking down the suspect—or just giving them a taste of their own medicine.

Another point is that sometimes, when you take someone, prisoner, it is not meant to elicit immediate information. It is meant to break them down over time to the point where they are easily manipulated and will say or do whatever they are told. And, of course, this works far better on people not trained for such circumstances—non-military, non-intelligence civilians—than on people who are prepared. However, it could still work on trained individuals, depending on who is doing it and under what conditions.

So, sometimes, interrogation is not about the immediate gain. It is not about one or two intense sessions where you get piles of information and a confession.

Sometimes, it is about developing a suspect over time—forcing them into becoming pliable people who will sign off on or carry out whatever they are told. And quite frankly, it sometimes works for that purpose. If the goal is to turn someone into an agent rather than to extract highly accurate information, and if they are in prolonged confinement—suffering, but not to the point of mental collapse—they may become a somewhat unwilling but cooperative participant in operations or actions simply because they feel they have no other option.

But if you want this method to be effective, it cannot be the only one used. Naturally, it has to be combined with other types of interrogation, discussions, and incentives.

So, it is a characteristic approach—but much more sophisticated and integrated with other forms of interrogation that are known to be effective when the goal is information gathering. It has to be part of a broader system, not just simple, mindless torture—like torturing someone for hours without breaks or direction.

Also, sometimes, the torture is not even about the individual. It is a message to the group or faction that the person belongs to. In such cases, information gathering becomes secondary.

The captors—or the regime—may want to extract information to pass on to their intelligence agencies, but they are often pursuing additional agendas. So, even if someone gives up accurate information, that may not end the torment. There are other objectives involved—like intimidating other prisoners, forcing concessions from the person’s family, and so on.

Iran, for example, is infamous for torturing people in front of their families. It is not necessarily because they need the information—they could likely get it by other means or do not even need it. It is psychological warfare. They want to silence the person, and they want to break their family mentally. It is torture used on the family as much as on the prisoner to extract cooperation or information.

If you want to get someone else to cooperate, it becomes a form of psychological pressure—to watch someone else be tortured. That fear can be more effective than physical abuse. People can break under that kind of psychological pressure, especially if it is extended over time.

Now, we talked about the big players in counterintelligence—China and Russia—but just one more thing I left out: there are countries that, believe it or not, are not familiar with the fact that torture does not work. They genuinely believe that brute force solves all problems.

These countries are not trained, and their methods are primitive. Psychologically, they are obsessed with power, but they lack access to a variety of tools or sophisticated techniques. So, they do what is easiest. It is as simple as that—they use what they know, even if it is ineffective.

And then there are countries that—for good or ill—punch well above their weight regarding intelligence operations. I mean the top half-percent of countries globally in terms of operational sophistication—the ones with the ability to interject themselves into the internal affairs of other governments and countries.

Jacobsen: Who are those countries?

Tsukerman: Because countries have the means and resources to do something, it does not mean they are good at interrogation. For instance, take the Gulf countries. They have the resources to conduct the most sophisticated types of surveillance. But often, they outsource that surveillance to private companies rather than doing it directly.

Despite being trained by Western institutions, their intelligence services are sometimes not sophisticated enough to handle complex operations independently—or they are too small to scale effectively.

Even though they may have access to equipment, they do not necessarily have access to psychological training or advanced interrogation training. So, they may combine somewhat modern—but not cutting-edge—interrogation techniques with other methods. Just because you have resources does not mean you have access. Some of these super-modern interrogation techniques are proprietary, and countries are not always retrained in them.

That is another issue. Sometimes, money does not solve these problems. And, by the way, just because you have super-expensive equipment does not mean you know how to use it properly. We have seen that in defence operations, particularly in the Gulf.

Jacobsen: Why are they dependent on the U.S.?

Tsukerman: Because some of that equipment has to be operated by the manufacturer’s country. Or, secondly, because it takes a long time to train personnel. And when the equipment is brand new, you do not know how to use it immediately.

Similarly, just because you know torture is ineffective and that better techniques exist does not mean you are good at those better techniques. Just because a method exists does not mean you are skilled in applying it. And when you do not know how to apply it properly, you get frustrated and fall back on what you already know.

Jacobsen: So, which countries?

Tsukerman: Look, any country that operates black sites is going to be using methods far outside the norm of basic enhanced interrogation. Torture happens at those sites. That is just the reality—including in the United States.

Now, what happens in regular prisons is a completely different story. In the U.S., torture is not part of the normal framework in standard prisons. The same goes for most of the Western world. But in other countries outside the West, there is a much higher likelihood of some degree of torture occurring, even in standard prison settings. That is a big difference.

Jacobsen: What about, broadly speaking, in intelligence operations? Regardless of size, which country is at the top of what they do? Is there an informal ranking?

Tsukerman: Regarding general intelligence effectiveness, is it not just interrogation?

Jacobsen: Yes, broadly—who knows how to do intelligence well?

Tsukerman: Russia has always ranked quite high for obvious reasons. However, most of its most effective intelligence operations involved disinformation tactics and active measures, not traditional espionage.

Their expertise was in sowing chaos, not necessarily in traditional intelligence gathering. They have always been good at that, too, but were they the best compared to others regarding the so-called “black arts”? Probably not.

Iranian intelligence is considered quite sophisticated in terms of human intelligence capabilities. As for technical capabilities, the U.S. is absolutely number one.

Its Western counterparts—including the Five Eyes—highly depend on U.S. technical capabilities. That is why, while the U.S. is formally dependent on the United Kingdom, especially regarding human intelligence, the U.S. does not rank at the top regarding HUMINT. It ranks highest in terms of technical and technological capabilities.

Israeli intelligence has been considered highly effective, but most of its effectiveness has been focused on regional affairs and counterterrorism. It is not as effective in conventional, global intelligence and counterintelligence operations.

Anything related to counterterrorism is probably their specialty—perhaps also some types of counterintelligence. But are they number one against state actors like China and Russia? I highly doubt it.

Effectiveness is also difficult to measure because of the immense secrecy in the field. You must judge by known successes, visible failures, disclosed methods—which are not always fully revealed—and general reputation based on activity level, budget, and historical record.

But yes, the general observations about technology and human intelligence you mentioned are widely accepted. It is hard to rank who is number three or four. Those lines are quite blurry.

Jacobsen: My follow-up question would be: What have been the boldest intelligence operations we have seen—or that have been credibly claimed—especially in the 21st century? We could go back in history, but I am curious about recent ones with that modern, digital-era flavour.

Tsukerman: Two that came to mind recently are from Israel. One was the daring operation to smuggle Iran’s nuclear archives out of the country. The other was the Hezbollah “Page Up” operation.

Both were classic Israeli-style intelligence missions: out-of-the-box thinking, deep subterfuge, years of groundwork, trust-building, network-building, and even the creation of a fake company—all to achieve one specific goal or to persuade key individuals to believe a fabricated premise.

Highly sophisticated yet elegantly straightforward, both operations quickly became public knowledge and had a significant impact. They extracted vast intelligence, disrupted hostile networks, and achieved national security objectives. So, yes—they were spectacularly successful on every front.

The U.S., by contrast, generally does not release information about successful operations until many years later. Whatever major successes may have occurred recently, we probably will not know about them for a while.

On the other hand, failures are much easier to trace—often because they become public. These include leaks like Edward Snowden’s and others involving so-called whistleblowers or leakers in recent years. Then there is the Havana Syndrome controversy and, of course, the infamous exposure and loss of intelligence assets during the Obama administration around 2012.

During the Iran nuclear negotiations, assets in China, Iran, and Saudi Arabia were reportedly compromised—and many of them met grim fates at the hands of local regimes. So that was a spectacular failure. There were also several people killed—not necessarily because they were actively given up, but due to sloppiness related to poor operational movements. That led to those results.

There have also been some impressive joint operations—like Stuxnet, which was implanted into the Iranian nuclear program. That was, in many ways, a bold and groundbreaking operation. So yes, Iran has been the recipient of some of the most brazen and daring intelligence operations in modern history.

But Iran’s intelligence, especially in tech, is not that strong. We have seen repeated failures not only from major Western powers—like the U.S., the U.K., and Israel, which often work together, sometimes with Australia, the Netherlands, and other allies—but also from terrorist organizations like ISIS and even Iran’s internal opposition movements.

Their counterintelligence is weak. A major reason is that they do not cooperate much with other intelligence agencies. They do not share information, creating structural weaknesses in their operations. There is a high degree of distrust internally and externally. That lack of cooperation makes it extremely difficult to run effective intelligence efforts. You need partners. You cannot rely entirely on your networks.

There was also a major U.S. cyber operation against China recently—this came after a significant failure, during which China gained access to and took control of eight U.S. telecom providers operating based on a single system. That system had a massive vulnerability, and China exploited it.

Jacobsen: What are the weaknesses of having these large, state-level intelligence operations? I get that they are expensive, but large countries can afford that. Are there inherent weaknesses—or are they necessary for the modern world?

Tsukerman: You need strong intelligence agencies in the modern world. But the problem is, when you have too many or become too large, they start overlapping, becoming duplicative, and often end up fighting turf wars. Over time, they become generic and are no longer optimized for their specific missions.

Jacobsen: So you are referring to interagency conflicts?

Tsukerman: Yes—but that is just one piece of it. There is also international interagency conflict, and beyond that, the simple fact that overly bureaucratic, oversized, and rigid agencies are not flexible enough to respond to crises and emergencies in real time.

We have seen failures like that. Take the Prigozhin uprising in Russia. Western powers—including the U.S.—were caught off guard. Their intelligence agencies were not agile enough to quickly collect and act on information. That was a very public and rapid failure.

And, of course, we saw what happened on October 7—a massive counterintelligence failure not only on Israel’s part but also on the part of its partner agencies, including the United States.

All of them failed in the same way to predict that Hamas was preparing for a major attack—with assistance from Iran and other actors. So, that was a huge intelligence failure for many countries.

This is despite multiple reports from individual agents who had accurate assessments. This was an internal agency failure, an analytical failure, and a failure of imagination, a common problem.

Once an agency is firmly established, it becomes slower and more bureaucratic. The more resources it has, the more it gets funnelled into mission creep or administrative bloat. Sometimes, being small and nimble is more effective than being a gigantic barge full of paper pushers.

Jacobsen: Can intelligence agencies become so bureaucratic, duplicative, and large that they begin to challenge the reigning authorities—like, in the way a military might stage a coup?

Tsukerman: I have not seen that happen in the U.S.—and the result has been the opposite. They have become ineffective rather than challenging anyone’s authority (despite what Trump claimed). There has been a lot of internal conflict, half-baked schemes, and counterintelligence failures.

This paranoia about the “deep state” taking over the government is ridiculous. If people understood how bureaucracies work, they would know that the bigger an agency grows, the more internal dysfunction and infighting it suffers. That makes it harder to focus on any mission—even those of critical national interest.

However, Russia is the prime example of subsuming the government. There, the intelligence agencies—not the civilian bureaucracy—are essentially in charge—simple as that. And that has been the case for hundreds of years.

I would also say that in Europe—especially Mediterranean countries—you see power struggles between intelligence agencies and political leadership. Intelligence services sometimes play an outsized role. They might challenge the government and compete with it for influence and agendas. Sometimes, this conflict even plays out publicly.

Jacobsen: We are also forming new information warfare or activism categories. NGOs, INGOs, CSOs, the UN, human rights organizations, state actors, and even non-member observer states like the Holy See or Palestine, religious institutions, and charities. Any one of these can be influenced or even subdued by governments or other powerful actors, right? I mean, even the Russian Orthodox Church is, quite obviously, aligned with the Kremlin.

Tsukerman: Absolutely. Even large, transnational churches can be used for political purposes.

Jacobsen: So, the new category I see emerging—and I will admit my bias—is hacker collectives like Anonymous. They have a different philosophy and a different structure. They operate anonymously and have carried out actions that are often ideologically driven, not aligned with any one state.

This kind of thing is important in how they operate. I mean, they can hold hacking or counter-hacking protests against anti-democratic forces within MAGA. As we know, MAGA’s grievances are legitimate—around offshoring, the loss of manufacturing, and the decline of living standards for the white working class, naturally. However, the anti-democratic forces within it tend to be the ones they go after.

So, what do you make of these new institutions or “collectives” whose entire existence is based around that kind of work but done in this fluid, almost decentralized way?

Tsukerman: Look—technically, if you are an American and you are hacking other Americans, it is illegal. It is as simple as that, no matter what your agenda is.

That said, once something is hacked and the information is leaked—can that information be useful for journalists or others in exposing wrongdoing? Sure.

Let’s say your focus is on a foreign entity, and it turns out there is an American connection—it is still fair game, depending on what you are investigating.

Now, hacking itself is—strictly speaking—illegal. But if you are dealing with highly authoritarian regimes that violate the rule of law, that are essentially at war with your country in some way, and that are actively interfering in democratic institutions through propaganda or other means—then going after them and their agents becomes a gray area.

Are there ways to justify it ethically, even if not legally? Yes, I think so. Ethically speaking, I see how that action is justified and holds value.

Now, who benefits from it, who uses the information, and whether those collectives have informal relationships with law enforcement, intelligence agencies, or private actors—that is something I’m always curious about. One has to be very careful.

In this administration, there is every motivation to go after people—even for minor issues—if they are perceived as going against the administration’s agenda. Those people are likely to be targeted to the extent possible.

Meanwhile, other groups doing similar things but focused on different targets may be completely ignored. Resources are finite. Unfortunately, these particular people will likely become law enforcement priorities under this administration.

But yes, traditional methods are often insufficient to access critical information. Private actors or journalists have no real funding to conduct deep, professional sting operations.

Jacobsen: So, professionally speaking, is it still possible to gain sufficient insight through sting operations by being a member of those collectives?

Tsukerman: It is possible, but building trust would take a long time. And even then, you may not get access to secured communications, financing details, or other sensitive material.

Many of these people are fairly open about who they are, what they stand for, and where their funding comes from. Authoritarian regimes have claimed to have duped people like Tim Pool, for instance.

But honestly, if you are that gullible, why are you in journalism? If you’re that easily duped—if you do not do even the bare minimum of due diligence and have zero questions about the agenda being presented to you, especially when it is propaganda—then you’re not doing your job.

So yes, many people know exactly what they are doing. They are just liars. They are functioning as foreign agents. But even then, because they are American citizens, they still have privacy rights and expectations, which makes it incredibly problematic to go after them through legal means.

You could accidentally expose legitimate personal matters. What you do not want is someone acting out of revenge and endangering the person’s family—minors, for instance—who might get swept up in the fallout. Innocent bystanders can easily end up in the crosshairs.

So, you’re going to do anything. In that case, it has to be extremely precise, very carefully, professionally, and thoughtfully done. It must be completely separated from any culture of revenge. The goal should be to provide real value to the public or law enforcement regarding the authoritarian nature of the individuals in question.

Jacobsen: So, how should people protect themselves?

Tsukerman: Well, first of all—do not commit any crimes. That is a good start.

Jacobsen: Fair enough. Also, do not piss off the mafia.

Tsukerman: Beyond not committing crimes or angering organized crime, everyone should follow some basic principles of situational awareness. For example, walking down the street with your headphones and face buried in your phone is not a good idea. You could get pickpocketed or assaulted. People not paying attention are significantly more likely to be targeted than those who appear confident, aware, and attuned to their surroundings.

Avoid walking alone on dark streets late at night if you can help. But if you must, carry something for self-defence—if you are able. If you practice martial arts, great. If not, pepper spray or some other form of protection is often advisable, depending on your local laws. You want something that gives you an advantage in the event of an attack, especially if multiple individuals confront you.

In terms of cybersecurity, I recommend using Tor to avoid detection. If you are travelling abroad, always use a VPN. I am a fan of ProtonVPN, which is based in Switzerland and is run by the same people behind ProtonMail.

But whether you are using Tor, Signal for encrypted communication, or any VPN service, your overall security depends on the integrity of your device. For example, Signal has vulnerabilities, especially those related to QR codes. If you are using Signal, do not scan QR codes with your phone. Do not take pictures of menus with QR codes—just type in the URL manually, even if it takes a few extra seconds. Be careful.

Unfortunately, modern life—especially events like major conferences—makes avoiding QR codes difficult. However, I usually skip all the surveys and request physical programs instead or go directly to the hosting organization’s website. Conferences are often prime targets for hackers.

Avoid using public Wi-Fi, especially at airports and other high-traffic locations. Use your mobile data or tether from a trusted friend’s hotspot if you need internet access. Public Wi-Fi is just not worth the risk.

Securing your phone and laptop is a must—especially if you live in a country where you are more likely to be targeted for hacking. And I do not just mean Russia or China. Even Gulf states have telecom infrastructure partially or wholly controlled by Chinese companies. The government may not directly target you, but its allies might be.

I recommend carrying a flip phone or an extra phone with a new or local SIM card for basic communication and emergencies. Also, travel with a highly secured laptop—not just email encryption but full device security. Not everyone can afford a satellite phone, but nearly everyone can afford malware protection, antivirus scans, and basic cybersecurity hygiene.

Engage in safe practices. Do frequent scans for malware and spyware. Avoid visiting sketchy websites, especially those that offer online casinos and pornography. I’m sorry, but avoid that content if you want to stay safe. Watch it on TV if you absolutely must. Avoid “smart” devices—the Internet of Things. They are essentially surveillance devices.

If you do not want your phone responding to your voice at random times, do not use AI assistants like Alexa or Siri. They are not good for your mental health either. But suppose you know that China—or anyone—can hack into them easily. In that case, you should assume someone can watch you, whether in the shower, in bed, or working on a sensitive project.

You would not want a stranger to witness these moments, so assume that Alexa or Siri are that stranger. If you are uncomfortable showing something in public, do not let a “smart” device be in the room—it may already be broadcasting that moment to whoever gains access.

As for physical security, it does not hurt to have cameras installed around your home—even if you do not feel like a specific target of criminals, spies, or terrorists. You never know. Better safe than sorry.

Do not advertise your travel plans or absences. Practice common sense digital security. Do not overshare on social media. Do not post pictures of your underage children. There is no reason to. If you want to share with a few close friends, use WhatsApp or similar private messaging apps. You do not need to share names and faces with the whole world.

Do not tell people you have children unless they are trusted colleagues or close friends. Do not share personal information like your home address, routine, or where you are travelling to—or even where you have been—unless it serves a clear purpose. Less is more. The less information is available publicly, the safer you are from strangers using it in ways you never intended.

Use social media for professional purposes, communication, or causes you care about—but be mindful of anything that can be used to identify or track you. Do not tell people what route you take to work or school daily. Do not make your routines predictable.

Jacobsen: So, adopt Donald Trump’s approach to personal safety—be unpredictable.

Tsukerman: Yes—at least somewhat. I do not mean being erratic. Erratic and unpredictable are two different things.

You want to be consistent in your responsibilities but unpredictable in your patterns. You do not want to be the kind of person who suddenly stops showing up to work without warning. But you also do not want to be the person who leaves and returns home at the same time every day, takes the same route, sits in the same restaurant seat, and is always in the same place at the same hour.

Especially if you are in a high-profile role, wealthy, or perceived as influential or a target in any way, that routine can become a vulnerability.

If you go to a restaurant, sit with your back to the wall so you can observe your surroundings. These are just basic, common-sense precautions.

Sitting with your back to the wall means no one can sneak up behind you—including a deranged vagrant wandering into a restaurant. Honestly, that is a much more likely scenario in a place like New York than a random terrorist—but that can happen, too.

Closely watch the people around you. Just be aware of how they are behaving. If something feels off, it is better to leave. Changing your seat, getting off the train, switching buses, or crossing the street is better. You never know.

People can be unpredictable. You do not know what anyone is thinking. They could have a mental illness, be having a moment, be a criminal—or even a terrorist. The key is to watch their behaviour.

For example, if it is 90 degrees out in the middle of summer and someone is wearing a heavy winter coat, that is usually not a good sign. It could be someone with a medical condition. It could be a heroin addict. Or it could be someone hiding a suicide vest. You do not want to get close. Keep your distance, observe, and stay alert.

It is a good habit to develop—regularly scanning your environment and noticing what seems out of place. It can be practiced every day. You do not have to be paranoid—just aware.

Jacobsen: What if someone knows they are entering a dangerous area?

Tsukerman: Then planning is everything.

If you know you’re going somewhere dangerous, plan your route. Establish contact with trusted locals. Understand the specific risks and prepare accordingly. Think through what you will need to stay safe.

Different places pose different types of dangers. Are you entering a high-crime area? Is it a region prone to terrorism? Is it dangerous due to weather conditions—like an incoming snowstorm or icy roads? Are you going into the wilderness where wild animals may be present?

The degree and nature of the danger matter. But in general—try not to go alone. It is always better to have company. Arrange your tasks in advance and rehearse different scenarios. War-game the threat. Run through possible outcomes in your head.

The more prepared you are, the less likely you are to panic. You cannot prepare for every possible scenario. Still, suppose you’re psychologically prepared to stay calm in the face of the unexpected. In that case, you’ll likely escape safely and without harm.

Coordinate as much as possible. Have exit strategies. Always plan for multiple contingencies—Plan A, B, and C.

Ask yourself: What happens if my driver does not show up? Do I have a safe place nearby? Do I have enough cash on me? Am I dressed in a way that draws unwanted attention? Do I have the right gear?

These things can make the difference between being caught off guard—and being in control.

Ask yourself: Do I fit in? Am I unlikely to attract the wrong kind of attention? Those are the questions you want to consider when going somewhere dangerous or unfamiliar. It could be where you are uncomfortable or unsure of what to expect.

Jacobsen: Thank you for your time today.

Tsukerman: Thank you for your time. I appreciate it.

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