When living in France, and definitely at the university, one often hits the c’est pas possible wall. I guess that c’est pas possible has a lot of different uses, but it often feels like a way to say “no” without the c’est pas possibler having to explain why not. It is “no,” but one does not know if it is because one’s interlocutor just does not feel like it, or because it would have this or that unintended consequence, or because it is just not how people are used to doing things, or because it is beyond the powers of whomever you are talking to, or it might be against some higher regulation. You just don’t know. And if you have been c’est pas possibled, then you basically know that the conversation is over. You can, in principle, inquire pourquoi pas?, but, at least if I do it, it leads nowhere. The reflex is definitely not to give a precise, well-argued explanation of where the concrete hurdle is. C’est pas possible feels like the opposite of the Yankee “can-do” attitude.

Now, it is not only the French who tell you that things are impossible. Politicians from everywhere do it all the time. They tell you that it is impossible to put more money or less money into something, without ever really elaborating on what the consequences of doing so would be. But then, under the right conditions, things miraculously become possible. For years, it was impossible to find extra money to put into public health, but then COVID happened. For years, it was impossible to spend on this or that in Germany, but then, in 10 days, politicians changed the Grundgesetz, removed the deficit clause, and found an unbelievable amount of money for defense and infrastructure. I guess that 30 years ago, a lot of politicians must have been saying that gay marriage was impossible. Or more recently, that it was impossible to block kids from social networks.

If pushed, both politicians and c’est pas possiblers often seem to follow the strategy of gold-plating whatever is to be declared as not being possible—reductio ad absurdum to kick the ball off the field. Let me give an example. At some point during COVID, the math department here had a lot of unused money, basically because nobody was traveling or being invited to come. At the same time, people were doing things they had never done before, like teaching online. Evidently, a lot of people needed computer equipment they didn’t used to need, and there was the idea of getting decent tablets. Well, the computer guy stalled. Although it would be truly amazing if he had opinions about such matters, it is not impossible that he just didn’t see the point of it. But I suspect that he just didn’t want to. Maybe for justified reasons. Maybe he was already overworked at the time, having to deal with all these people asking where the button to turn the computer on was or how Zoom worked. But whatever his reason, he just decided to follow the c’est pas possible route. To do that, he decided—contrary to what he used to argue in other cases—that the only acceptable model would be the most expensive one. It was also one that had some issues of compatibility with the rest of the system. He then also declared that it was a matter of basic fairness that if somebody got such a tablet, then everybody had to get one, including secretaries or people like me who didn’t need or want one. He then calculated that there was not enough money for everyone to get the only tablet he had been willing to consider. Ergo, c’est pas possible. Q.E.D. Now, the consequence was that everybody who needed one got their own tablet, and I guess that everybody found its on-off button on their own, saving the guy a lot of work. At the time, the whole thing pissed me off, but what really pissed me off was the way of dealing with it. If the guy had come and said, “Look, since everybody is working online because of COVID, I already don’t manage to deal with what I have on my plate now, and I really cannot spend the time to do this on top of everything else,” then he would have had my full sympathy—at the end of the day, this is how everybody felt—but the c’est pas possible route of refusing to find alternatives and realistically discuss what costs and trade-offs it would entail really pissed me off.

When it comes to politics right now, we are seeing a mix of c’est pas possibling and of c’est pas possible becoming possible. When Mark Rutte tells the European Parliament that they should keep on dreaming if they think that Europe could defend itself without the US, he is c’est pas possibling them. When politicians say that it is impossible for Europe to be digitally independent of the US, they are c’est pas possibling each other. I mean, what does Rutte mean? Does he mean that if Putin decided to march on Warsaw, Paris, and Berlin, he could just do that unless the US decides to defend Europe? No, he does not mean that. At least I hope that he doesn’t, because he would be patently wrong. I mean, the Ukrainians have been defending themselves for 4 years now. So, what does Rutte actually mean? I guess that if he were more intellectually honest, he would be telling the European Parliament that right now it would be really costly for Europe to defend itself without the US, that the idea that the US would be helping is something that actually keeps Europe secure, and that therefore one has to deal smartly with the US, preventing more of a break than what is there already. Now, it is possible—in fact, pretty likely—that this is exactly what Rutte is saying in private conversations, and that when he is talking in public, he is just performing the (pretty undignified) role that he thinks it is responsible to play in his position. At the same time, by claiming openly that c’est pas possible for Europe to defend itself without the US, he is sending a really pernicious message to Europeans. By framing it in those terms, by gold-plating, by not discussing what the conditions and costs would be, where the difficulties would lie, he kind of tells people that it is pointless to think about what one would realistically need to do it. Put simply, Rutte is no Churchill. Or de Gaulle. I mean, I can definitely imagine de Gaulle saying c’est pas possible, but with a mais in front and an exclamation mark at the end. Another very French way of using that expression.

Similarly, when politicians say that Europe is completely dependent on US tech, they are c’est pas possibling at a large scale. I mean, evidently, it would cost a huge disruption if all trans-Atlantic internet cables stopped working today, or if all Windows machines refused to turn on. But this is not what one is talking about, because not even Trump at his most mercurial could do that. And well, to take a pretty extreme case, computers in Russia continue to work. Still, Europe would need time and money and work to be less dependent on US tech. But if it has to be, c’est possible. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not with things as they are. But it is evidently possible. I mean, states have power. The administrative state has power. The US CLOUD Act gives U.S. authorities access to all data held by U.S.-based providers, even if it is stored in the EU by European subsidiaries. This completely contradicts the European General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR). Now, what do you think would happen if, say, the French state declared that starting in 1 or 2 years, all new public IT contracts would only be given to companies that adhere strictly to the GDPR? What if it declared that starting in 2029, companies opting for public contracts worth more than XYZ would have to run the IT services through companies following the same standard? Well, companies, both European and American, would adapt. I mean, one is talking about a lot of money. Now, I am sure that there would be inefficiencies, and that some things would become more complicated than they are, but it would work. And a bit of that is already happening: for whatever it is worth, the French public sector alternative to Zoom works very well.

Indeed, both when it comes to defense and to digital independence, things are happening. A bit under the radar, and bit by bit, but things are happening. And that is good. And I understand why it happens a bit under the radar. I mean, it is reasonable to argue that one should not rock the boat more than necessary. But I wish there was more talk about what it would entail and how to do it, instead of just saying c’est pas possible.