Imagine a world where the United Nations Security Council doesn't exist. No vetoes from the permanent five, no blue-helmeted peacekeepers, no General Assembly resolutions that everyone ignores anyway, and no "international community" to wag its collective finger at bad actors. It sounds like a fever dream for some and a nightmare for others, but as of April twenty twenty-six, with the UN facing a massive legitimacy crisis, this isn't just a historical what-if. It is a very real question about how we actually manage the planet.
It is a fascinating prompt, Corn. I’m Herman Poppleberry, and today we’re diving into the deep end of geopolitical architecture. We have to thank Daniel for this one. He sent us a text prompt asking if the "international community" is just a post-world-war-two construct and whether we could actually regulate the world more effectively without this "illusion."
Yeah, Daniel is really pushing us to look at the scaffolding of the world. By the way, quick shout out—today’s episode of My Weird Prompts is powered by Google Gemini three Flash. It’s the engine under the hood for this specific deep dive. So, Herman, Daniel’s point is provocative. He’s basically asking if the "international community" is a fake concept we invented in nineteen forty-five to make ourselves feel better after blowing everything up. Before that, was it just every nation for itself, or was there some secret sauce of diplomacy we’ve forgotten?
It’s a bit of both, but mostly, it was a world of raw realism. The "international community" as we define it today—a collective body with shared values and a legal framework that supposedly supersedes state interests—is absolutely a modern invention. Before nineteen forty-five, you didn’t have a "global community." You had states. You had empires. You had interests. And you had a very cold, very calculated system of bilateralism. If you wanted something from another country, you didn’t go to a committee in New York. You sent an envoy with a very specific treaty and probably a veiled threat of naval bombardment.
I love that. "Talk to my envoy or talk to my cannons." It’s very direct. But wait, if it was that aggressive, how did anyone ever get a trade deal done without a war? If I’m a merchant in eighteen-eighty, I’m not waiting for a naval bombardment just to sell some grain.
You relied on the "sanctity of the contract" between sovereigns. But it was fragile. If a new King came to power and decided he didn't like the old deal, he’d just tear it up. There was no "World Trade Organization" to file a grievance with. You either swallowed the loss or you convinced your government to send a gunboat to the harbor to "encourage" payments. We call it "Gunboat Diplomacy" for a reason. It was the ultimate enforcement mechanism before we had international courts.
So Daniel asks if we could regulate effectively without the "illusion." If we dissolved the UN tomorrow, in April twenty twenty-six, would the world just stop spinning, or would we just go back to that old-school way of doing business?
That’s the multi-trillion-dollar question. To answer it, we have to look at how things worked before the UN "operating system" was installed. We usually point to sixteen forty-eight—the Peace of Westphalia—as the start of the modern state system. Before that, power was overlapping, religious, and messy. Westphalia said, "Your house, your rules." Sovereignty became the ultimate shield. There was no "international law" in the sense of a global police force. There was only "inter-state law." It was a contract between two parties, like a business deal, not a set of universal human rights.
So if there’s no global principal’s office, how did they stop everyone from just killing each other every Tuesday? Because, let’s be honest, humans are pretty good at that.
They used the "Balance of Power." In the nineteenth century, after Napoleon tried to take over everything, the Great Powers—Britain, Russia, Prussia, Austria, and France—created the "Concert of Europe." It wasn't a permanent institution. It was more like a high-stakes group chat. When a crisis popped up, they held a "Congress," like the Congress of Vienna in eighteen fifteen. They sat around a table, redrew the map, and decided who got what to make sure no single power got too strong.
It sounds like a mob sit-down. "You take the docks, I take the gambling dens, and we all agree not to shoot each other for six months."
Honestly, Corn, that’s a pretty accurate description of nineteenth-century diplomacy. It was a "Directorate of the Powerful." It wasn't about "justice" or "democracy" or "human rights." It was about stability. And it actually worked for a surprisingly long time. From eighteen fifteen to nineteen fourteen, there was no massive, continent-wide war in Europe. The system of bilateral treaties and informal coordination kept the peace better than many of our modern institutions.
But it also ignored everyone else, right? I mean, if you weren't one of those five powers, you were basically just a pawn on the board. The "international community" today at least pretends to care about the small guys.
That’s the "illusion" Daniel is talking about. The UN gives every country a seat and a vote, which creates the appearance of equality. But realists like E. H. Carr or Hans Morgenthau would argue that even today, the UN is just a theater for power. When the interests of the big players align, the UN works. When they don’t, the UN is paralyzed. Think about the veto power in the Security Council. It’s just a formalized way of saying, "The big guys still run the show."
But how does that work in practice when a small country actually has a grievance? If, say, a tiny island nation is being bullied by a neighbor in a world without the UN, do they just have zero recourse?
In the pre-UN world, their only recourse was to find a "Protector." You’d trade your autonomy for security. You’d tell a Great Power, "If you protect us, we’ll give you exclusive mining rights or a naval base." It was a world of protectorates and client states. The "illusion" of the UN at least gives that small island a microphone and a legal standing to say "This is illegal," even if no one comes to help them immediately. It changes the narrative from "might makes right" to "might is breaking the law."
So let’s talk about the "regulation" part of Daniel’s prompt. He mentions that the world could regulate effectively without the illusion. I’m thinking about things like the mail or telegrams. Did we have those before the UN?
We did! And this is where the "Functionalist" argument comes in, which is one of my favorite niche topics. Long before the UN, we had the International Telegraph Union in eighteen sixty-five and the Universal Postal Union in eighteen seventy-four. These weren't "political" bodies. They were technical ones. Nations realized that if they wanted to send a letter from Paris to Berlin, they needed a common standard for stamps and weights. They didn't need to agree on the "meaning of life" or "universal liberty"; they just needed to agree on the size of an envelope.
So you’re saying we could keep the "boring" parts of global governance—the parts that actually make the world work—and ditch the "talking shop" where everyone argues about borders and ideologies?
That’s a major school of thought. If we dissolved the UN today, in twenty twenty-six, we might see the collapse of the General Assembly and the Security Council, but we’d likely fight tooth and nail to keep the International Civil Aviation Organization. Without the ICAO, your flight from New York to London doesn't have a standardized safety protocol. Your pilot doesn't have a universal language for air traffic control. Every flight would require a separate bilateral treaty between nations. It would be a logistical apocalypse.
I can see the headline now: "Flight delayed three years while lawyers argue over fuel nozzle standards." But wait, wouldn't private companies just step in? If the UN disappears, does Boeing or Airbus just set the standards instead?
They could try, but who enforces it? If a country decides to ignore Boeing’s safety standards to save money, who stops them from flying into your airspace? You need a treaty-based recognition that says, "We all follow these rules or you can't land here." Without a central body, you’re back to negotiating those rules country-by-country, thousands of times over. It’s the difference between having one universal charging cable and having three hundred different plugs.
Okay, so the technical stuff is the real glue. But let’s look at the "imaginary collective" part. Daniel calls it an "illusion." Is there a benefit to the illusion itself? Like, does pretending there’s an international community actually change how countries behave?
That is the Alexander Wendt argument—constructivism. He famously said, "Anarchy is what states make of it." If we all believe there is an "international community" with rules, we tend to act more predictably. We feel a "reputational cost" for breaking those rules. Even when a country like Russia or China or the United States ignores a UN resolution, they usually spend a lot of time and energy trying to justify why their action actually does fit within international law. They care about the optics. If you dissolve the UN, you remove that "shame" mechanism. You revert to a world where "might makes right" isn't just the reality—it’s the official policy.
It’s like the difference between a guy who breaks the law but hides it because he knows it’s wrong, and a guy who just says, "There are no laws, I’m taking your car." One is a criminal; the other is a warlord.
Right. And the warlord world is much more volatile. Without the "illusion," every interaction between states becomes a zero-sum game. If I gain, you must be losing. The UN, for all its flaws, provides a "buffer zone." It’s a place where diplomats can yell at each other for twelve hours so their generals don’t have to shoot at each other for twelve minutes. It’s a safety valve.
Here’s a "fun fact" for you, Herman. Did you know that during the height of the Cold War, the UN lounge in New York was one of the few places Soviet and American diplomats could actually grab a drink together without it being a "major diplomatic event"?
That "social" aspect of the UN is underrated. It’s the world’s most expensive water cooler. If you remove the building, you remove the accidental conversations that prevent wars.
Okay, but let’s look at the failure of the League of Nations. That was the first "beta test" of the UN idea after World War One. Why did that one fall apart? Was it because it didn't have enough "illusion," or because it tried to have too much?
The League of Nations failed because it had no teeth and no buy-in. The United States never joined, which is like starting a club and having the richest, most powerful guy in town stay home. But more importantly, it relied on "collective security"—the idea that an attack on one is an attack on all. But in the nineteen thirties, when Japan invaded Manchuria or Italy invaded Ethiopia, the other members looked at their bank accounts and their tired armies and said, "Eh, not my problem." The "community" didn't exist when it actually cost something to belong to it.
So the UN "fixed" that by giving the big powers the veto? Basically saying, "We won't make you do anything you really hate, as long as you stay in the room"?
Precisely. The UN is built on a "Realist" foundation with a "Liberal" facade. The Security Council is the Realism—the big powers have the final say. The General Assembly is the Liberalism—everyone gets a voice. It’s a compromise. If you dissolve it, you lose that compromise.
Let's talk about the world in April twenty twenty-six. We’ve seen the UN struggle with the conflict in Ukraine, tensions in the South China Sea, and the ongoing mess in the Middle East. Some people say the UN is already dead; it just hasn't fallen over yet. If we officially pulled the plug, what’s the first thing that happens?
The immediate effect would be the "Regionalization" of the world. Instead of one "global" community, we’d see the rise of powerful regional blocs. The European Union would double down on its own internal rules. China would expand its own system of alliances in Asia and Africa—think of the "Belt and Road" becoming a formal legal bloc. The U.S. would likely retreat into a "Fortress America" or a tighter NATO-plus-plus alliance. We’d go back to a "Spheres of Influence" model.
Which sounds a lot like the nineteenth century again. But this time with nukes, hypersonic missiles, and AI-driven cyber warfare. That "Balance of Power" seems a lot harder to maintain when a single line of code can take out a power grid.
That’s the danger. In eighteen fifteen, a message took weeks to travel across Europe. You had time to breathe, to negotiate, to hold a Congress. In twenty twenty-six, everything happens at the speed of light. Without a centralized forum like the UN to slow things down, the "escalation ladder" becomes a greased slide. If there’s no "neutral ground" to talk, the only way to signal strength is through action. Kinetic action.
But couldn't we just use modern tech to replace the forum? Why do we need a building in New York? Can't we just have a "Global Diplomacy Slack" or a secure video link?
We have those now, Corn, and they don't solve the problem. Diplomacy isn't just about communication; it’s about legitimacy. A Slack message from a President doesn't have the same weight as a signed resolution backed by the "International Community." That "illusion" of collective will is what gives a piece of paper power. Without the institution, it’s just a PDF.
It’s interesting that Daniel mentions "vague mechanisms of international law." I think about things like the Geneva Conventions. Most people think of those as "The Rules of War." But before the Hague Conventions of eighteen ninety-nine and the Geneva stuff, was it just... whatever? Did people just do whatever they wanted in war?
It was largely "customary law." There was a sense of "chivalry" or "professional conduct" among officers, but it was very inconsistent. If you surrendered, you usually weren't killed, mostly because your captor wanted to ransom you back to your family. It was a business transaction. The idea that soldiers have "rights" or that "war crimes" are a legal category that can be prosecuted by an international court—that’s very new. Before the UN era, if you lost a war, the winners decided if you were a criminal. There was no "standardized" justice.
So if we dissolve the UN, do we lose the International Criminal Court too? Does the idea of a "war crime" just become "stuff the loser did"?
Largely, yes. The ICC is already struggling with enforcement, as we know. But without the framework of the UN Charter, the very concept of "aggression" becomes fuzzy. In the pre-UN world, war wasn't "illegal." It was just a tool of statecraft. Clausewitz famously said war is the continuation of politics by other means. The UN tried to make "offensive war" illegal. If you remove the UN, you’re basically saying war is back on the menu as a legitimate way to settle a property dispute.
Which brings us to the "Self-Help" security vacuum. Daniel’s prompt mentions how nations engaged when there wasn't a collective. If I’m a small country in twenty twenty-six and the UN is gone, my only option is to find a "Big Brother" or get nukes, right?
That’s the "Thucydides Trap" or the "Security Dilemma." If I build a wall to protect myself, you see it as a threat and build a bigger wall. Without an international body to inspect those walls or mediate the dispute, we eventually just start throwing rocks. We’d see a massive wave of nuclear proliferation. If the UN’s non-proliferation regime disappears, why wouldn't every mid-sized power want a nuclear deterrent? It’s the only way to ensure your sovereignty in a "Self-Help" world.
So the "illusion" of the international community is actually a giant "Keep Out" sign for nuclear weapons?
In many ways, yes. It provides a framework for inspections—the IAEA—and for sanctions that have at least some level of global legitimacy. Without that, sanctions just look like "economic warfare" by one group of countries against another. It loses its moral weight.
Think about the North Korean situation. Without the IAEA or the Security Council resolutions, would we have just seen a full-scale invasion decades ago? Or would they just be a "normal" nuclear state like any other?
Probably the latter. The UN framework is what makes them a "pariah." Without that framework, they’re just another country with a big stick. The concept of a "pariah state" requires a "community" to cast them out. If there’s no community, there are no pariahs—just competitors.
Let's pivot to the humanitarian side. Daniel mentions the WFP—the World Food Programme—and the UNHCR for refugees. These are UN bodies. If they vanish, who feeds the hungry? Does it just become "charity as a weapon"?
That is one of the darkest second-order effects. Right now, the UN provides a "neutral" way to deliver aid. If the U.S. sends food to a country, it’s seen as a political move. If the UN sends it, it’s "humanitarian." If you dissolve the UN, aid becomes purely transactional. "We’ll feed your people, but you have to give us a naval base and vote with us on this trade deal." The world’s most vulnerable people become literal bargaining chips in a way that is even more direct than it is now.
But wait, wouldn't NGOs like the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders just fill the gap? They aren't the UN.
They aren't, but they rely on UN-negotiated "humanitarian corridors." They rely on the legal status of neutral aid workers defined by international law. If you dissolve the UN and the "community" idea, a warlord in a conflict zone has no legal reason to let Doctors Without Borders through his checkpoint. He’s not worried about a UN report or international sanctions. He’s only worried about who is paying him. The "neutrality" of aid is a UN-era luxury.
It sounds like Daniel is right that the "community" is a construct, but it’s a construct that acts as a shock absorber. It’s like the bumper on a car. It’s not the car itself, and it doesn't make the car go faster, but when you hit something, you’re really glad it’s there.
That’s a great way to put it. And there’s also the "Sovereignty" paradox. Critics of the UN say it infringes on national sovereignty. But for small nations, the UN is actually the protector of their sovereignty. Without the UN Charter, a small nation’s "rights" only extend as far as their neighbor’s patience. The UN gives them a legal shield that, while thin, is better than nothing.
So, looking at the "Functionalist" angle again—could we have a version of the world where we keep the "logistics" but ditch the "politics"? Like, keep the postal union and the aviation safety, but fire the General Assembly?
Some people, like Gary Marks, have written about this "multi-level governance." The problem is that the "technical" and the "political" are harder to separate than they look. Think about the World Health Organization. In twenty-twenty and twenty twenty-one, we saw how a "technical" health body became a political football between the U.S. and China. Or think about the International Telecommunication Union. It’s supposed to be about radio frequencies and internet standards, but it’s actually a battlefield for who controls the future of the web—open and free versus state-controlled and censored.
So even the "boring" stuff is political. You can't just have a world of "logistics" because someone has to decide what the logistics are, and that decision is always going to favor someone.
There is no such thing as "neutral" regulation. Every standard—whether it’s for shipping containers or carbon emissions—creates winners and losers. The UN provides a forum where those winners and losers can at least try to negotiate. Without it, the "winner" is just whoever has the biggest fleet or the most dominant tech sector.
Let’s talk about the "Moralism vs. Prudence" angle. Daniel’s research mentions that realists think the "illusion" of a moral community leads to "crusading" foreign policies—like trying to force democracy on countries through regime change. Is there an argument that the world would be more stable if we just stopped pretending we shared values?
That is the "Cold Peace" argument. If you stop trying to make everyone "like you" and just accept that different countries have different systems, you might actually have fewer wars. The "Liberal International Order" is often seen as an "Export Model" of Western values. For many countries in the Global South, the "international community" feels like a club where the rules are written in English and enforced when it suits the West. If you dissolve that, you might get a more "honest" world. A world where we say, "I don't like how you run your country, but as long as you don't mess with my trade routes, I won't invade you."
A "Live and Let Live" policy based on cold, hard interests. It sounds less... I don't know, "noble"? But maybe more sustainable?
It’s the "Westphalian" ideal. But the problem is that in twenty twenty-six, our problems aren't Westphalian. Climate change, pandemics, AI safety, space debris—these things don't care about borders. You can't solve a global pandemic with a bilateral treaty between France and Germany. You need a collective response. That’s the ultimate trap. We have nineteenth-century brains, twentieth-century institutions, and twenty-first-century problems.
So if we dissolve the UN, we’re essentially trying to fight a wildfire with a bunch of individual buckets instead of a coordinated fire department.
And some people are throwing gasoline in their buckets because they think it’ll help them win a fight with their neighbor while the whole forest burns. It’s a grim picture, but it’s why the "illusion" is so persistent. We need it to be true, even if we know it’s mostly a social construct.
What about the idea of AI-driven diplomacy? Daniel works in AI and automation. Could we replace the UN with a neutral, algorithmic mediator? Something that doesn't have an ego or a veto?
It’s a wild thought. Imagine a "Diplomacy GPT" that analyzes every treaty, every resource flow, and every military movement to suggest the most "stable" outcome for everyone. The problem, as always, is the data and the "objective function." Who programs the AI? What does it prioritize? If it prioritizes "Total Global Wealth," it might suggest that a small country should be absorbed by a large one for "efficiency." Humans would never accept that. Diplomacy is fundamentally about human fears, pride, and history. You can't automate trust.
Yeah, I don't think a "Sloth-Donkey" AI would be any better at solving the South China Sea than a bunch of humans in suits. So, to Daniel’s question: "How would our world be different if we dissolved the UN?" It sounds like we’d have a world that is more "honest" about power, but much more dangerous for the weak, and much less capable of solving big, invisible problems.
We’d see the return of "Secret Treaties." In the nineteenth century, countries would have public treaties and then secret "side deals" that even their own parliaments didn't know about. The UN pushed diplomacy into the light—at least a little bit. Dissolving it would send everything back into the shadows. We’d be living in a world of constant "surprises." And in a nuclear age, surprises are bad.
Very bad. So, practical takeaways for the folks listening. If the UN is a "diplomatic signaling tool" rather than a "world government," how should we be reading the news in twenty twenty-six?
First, stop looking at UN resolutions as "laws" and start looking at them as "scorecards." When the General Assembly votes on something, it’s not "solving" the problem; it’s showing you where the "gravity" of global opinion is shifting. It’s a map of alliances. Second, pay more attention to the "Functional" agencies. If things start breaking down in the Universal Postal Union or the ITU, that’s a much bigger sign of global collapse than a loud speech in the Security Council. Those are the wires that actually keep the lights on.
And keep an eye on those regional blocs. If the UN continues to fade, organizations like the African Union, ASEAN, or even the "BRICS-plus" group are where the real action is going to happen. They’re the "new neighborhoods" in a world where the "global city" is falling apart.
And finally, realize that "International Law" is only as strong as the "Honor" and "Interests" of the people involved. It’s a gentleman’s agreement at a table full of people who aren't always gentlemen. Understanding that "illusion" doesn't mean you have to be cynical; it just means you have to be realistic about how fragile the whole thing is.
It’s a lot to process. Daniel, thanks for sending us down this rabbit hole. It’s definitely made me look at the "blue-marble" view of the world a bit differently. It’s not a solid sphere; it’s more like a giant game of Jenga where we’re all trying to keep the tower from falling while occasionally stealing blocks from the bottom to build our own little sheds.
And the UN is the guy standing next to the tower, yelling "Don't touch that block!" while everyone ignores him. But if he leaves the room, the game gets a lot more violent.
Well, on that cheerful note, I think we’ve unpacked the "Grand Illusion" of the international community. It’s a mess, but it’s our mess.
Thanks as always to our producer, Hilbert Flumingtop, for keeping us on track. And a big thanks to Modal for providing the GPU credits that power this show and the AI models we used today.
This has been My Weird Prompts. If you liked this deep dive into the end of the world as we know it, give us a review on your podcast app—it really helps us reach more people who like thinking about weird stuff.
We’ll be back next time with whatever Daniel throws at us. Until then, stay curious.
And keep your "Balance of Power" steady. See ya.
Goodbye.
