At a time of renewed debate in the United States over the merits of using coercive interrogation techniques by intelligence services and law enforcement, John Schiemann’s book is an important… Click to show full abstract
At a time of renewed debate in the United States over the merits of using coercive interrogation techniques by intelligence services and law enforcement, John Schiemann’s book is an important reminder of the inherent limits of torture. What is all the more remarkable is that Schiemann does not rely on the moral or legal critiques by various philosophers or legal scholars, but rather approaches the claims put forward by torture proponents on their own terms. The book’s opening epigraph from human rights scholar Michael Ignatieff rightly captures the tenor throughout this systematic treatment of such a charged topic: “If we are against torture, we are committed actually to arguing with our fellow citizens, not treating those who defend torture as moral monsters.” The main foil throughout the book remains the torture regime, particularly the CIA program of the George W. Bush administration during the War on Terror. Yet rather than portraying the Bush regime as some aberration of abusive excess, Schiemann makes a compelling case that the U.S. program designed during this period closely approximates the “idealized” model envisioned by more pragmatic proponents of how a torture regime— properly formulated, regulated, and implemented— should be expected to function. Assessing the Bush program thus offers a more general test of any torture regime, however ideally conceived, with implications for supporters and opponents alike. The opening chapters lay out in clear, oftentimes brutally stark, terms the defining features of torture, alongside the conditions under which proponents would judge an interrogational program employing torture as successful on pragmatic grounds. Weaving together existing scholarly work with primary documents, Schiemann distills benchmarks upon which torture programs should be assessed based on four key elements: 1) high reliability of the information collected; 2) low frequency of torturing only the most resistant of detainees; 3) limiting the severity of abuses; and 4) the success of such calibrated torture in getting resistant suspects to give up most (if not all) information while sparing cooperative or innocent detainees. The remainder of the book goes on to demonstrate in detail how none of these benchmarks can reasonably be met, even under the most ideal of circumstances favorable to proponents’ positions. That Schiemann finds the Bush program wanting across multiple dimensions offers an even more fundamental challenge to scholars, policymakers, or members of the public who believe that torture represents an effective policy under almost any circumstances. Does Torture Work? builds its case with a game-theoretic model of interrogation. Schiemann starts with relatively simple building blocks of a single-shot sequential game involving two players—a detainee and an interrogator. Each has two choices, respectively, whereby the detainee either chooses or refuses to give information, and the interrogator then decides whether or not to use torture to try to get the detainee to talk. Such a straightforward model with fully informed players allowing slight differences in preference orderings yields puzzling (or, for Schiemann, “quixotic”) outcomes, such as torture never happening or, instead, information never being obtained. Given that neither equilibria mesh well with what is known from real-world episodes, Schiemann goes on to incorporate insights from historical and contemporary cases to develop a more realistic interrogation model (RIT). Keeping the same overall structure, an incomplete information game is developed to introduce uncertainty over the particular “type” of actor both sides believe they are facing—whether the interrogator is pragmatic or sadistic; and whether the detainee is cooperative, resistant, or innocent. The model is also flexible enough to allow for different types of questioning—leading versus objective— to capture important differences in interrogation scenarios. While necessarily simplifying the types of actors and actions, the RIT does what any good formal model should do in highlighting some of the most salient dynamics involved in complex phenomena. Throughout these formative sections of the book, Schiemann describes and justifies each modeling choice in clear terms, providing further discussion and examples where necessary. For this alone, the book serves as an excellent template for how to present and discuss a formal model to a general audience. The modifications in the RIT turn out to be crucial, as solving the model generates a dizzying nine separate equilibrium outcomes. Schiemann deftly organizes these
               
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