As global tensions rise, governments are turning to AI to analyse data, model negotiation outcomes and identify compromise options, reshaping modern diplomacy
From John F Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev navigating the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 to Henry Kissinger and Zhou Enlai’s meetings that laid the groundwork for China’s opening up in 1971, modern history is full of examples of human judgment shaping great diplomatic moments.
But what if artificial intelligence could help us face some of today’s most pressing crises better?
Singapore is offering an early glimpse of what that future might look like. Last month, the city-state’s foreign minister, Vivian Balakrishnan, revealed that he had built a diplomatic second brain using an open-source technology called NanoClaw. The tool curates transcripts, speeches, and other material — particularly his own contributions — into a searchable database. It has become so useful, the minister joked, that he does not dare switch it off.
The idea is quintessentially Singaporean in its efficiency, with appropriate shades of dystopia. Still, no serious diplomat — including Balakrishnan — would bet on an AI system negotiating the end to the war in Ukraine or resolving decades of hostility between the US and Iran. The minister’s central message is that while technology can increasingly handle computation, memory, and routine tasks, it cannot replace understanding. Or, as he put it: “You can delegate work, but you cannot delegate accountability.”
But in a world where diplomacy often feels in short supply, artificial intelligence can help policymakers cope with complexity. Governments across the globe are already using AI to synthesise huge amounts of data, model different negotiating scenarios, and identify potential areas of compromise.
The US State Department is employing these tools to translate documents and summarise information. In Libya, the United Nations used a platform called Remesh to gather and analyse the views of thousands of citizens during the peace process in late 2020 that followed years of civil war. Because it worked on basic mobile phones and supported local dialects, it brought more voices into the conversation than traditional consultations might have managed.
The World Bank, meanwhile, is using AI to predict refugee flows from South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo into Uganda. This potentially gives governments and aid agencies more time to prepare housing, schools, healthcare, and other essential services before people arrive.
For all of its promise, AI is also inherently vulnerable to risk, notes Asha Hemrajani, senior fellow at the Centre of Excellence for National Security at Singapore’s S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies. “Garbage in, garbage out,” she told me. “It depends on the data you input into the AI model you are building. And these systems are vulnerable to hacking and manipulation, which could lead to strategic miscalculations. In a high-stakes environment like diplomacy, you have to get it right — you have to keep humans in the loop.”
Which is why, as impressive as Balakrishnan’s second brain sounds, it raises an uncomfortable question: Whose brain is it replacing? The jobs his tool could perform — drafting briefs, synthesising country reports, preparing speeches and parliamentary questions — has traditionally been the work of junior diplomats or policy staff.
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Diplomacy is hardly unique in facing this dilemma, but the question is especially acute in Singapore, which is among the economies most exposed to AI. Bloomberg Economics estimates that roughly 40 per cent of employment could be affected by the technology — the highest share in the world. Sweden and the UK follow at around 30 per cent, while the US stands at 26 per cent.
Exposure does not necessarily mean replacement. The figures tell us little about how quickly the technology will be adopted, or whether jobs will be augmented rather than eliminated. Singaporeans are surprisingly optimistic. Only 17 per cent believe workers are unlikely to benefit from AI — compared with 46 per cent in Germany.
That may explain why the government has been able to press ahead with its AI ambitions. Singapore has signed an agreement with OpenAI and last week another one with Anthropic. It has also launched a joint AI alliance with South Korea — backed by a $300 million fund — and announced plans to deploy AI agents across the public sector.
But moving fast comes with its own risks. The challenge is not whether to use AI in diplomacy, but how. Junior diplomats need to develop the judgment that no algorithm can replicate. Time spent learning languages, understanding cultures and experience with more senior diplomats is essential.
Vital human qualities such as empathy and understanding are crucial to good diplomatic outcomes. The next great breakthrough will still require a person who can read a room and pick up on the signals that could make or break a peace deal. No AI-powered second brain can do that.
