C.Anne Long is a senior strategic communications consultant with public, private, and not-for-profit experience. She holds a doctorate in Political Science and a Master of Public Health.
Deniz Gungen is a director at APCO Worldwide, a global advisory and advocacy communications consultancy, where he works with global positioning strategies and multifaceted international reputational challenges. He holds a doctorate in Political Science.
The concept of good corporate citizenship was originally based on a tradeoff: companies could pursue profit so long as they did so in a way that conformed with social perceptions of “good” behavior, even if that behavior cut into their bottom line. That tradeoff has since evolved into a profit-societal win-win incentive captured by the data-backed axiom “ doing well by doing good.” Unmentioned in both the tradeoff and incentive is the very real reputational effect of companies’ literal citizenship: their country of origin and countries of operation. Can companies – specifically multinationals – have a reputation for “doing good” even if they come from, or operate in, “bad” places?
This question is usually handled on a case-specific basis, in a theoretical manner, or with consumers’ implicit gut reactions helped along by media commentary as well as domestic politics and corporate communication. For good corporate citizenship to serve as a systematic standard for multinationals, this question must be directly answered in a way that enables national association to be transparently, meaningfully, and consistently incorporated into those standards.
The implicit and haphazard inclusion of national associations in multinationals’ reputation is related in part to the deemphasis on nationalism in the heady days of globalization’s post-Cold War phase, when good corporate citizenship was pushing its way into the increasingly conscientious consumer consciousness. The idea that the international political-economic system was coalescing into an interdependent democratic market systems – “ the end of history ” – informed assessments such as Robert Reich ’s that multinationals were detaching from their national origins, resulting in supra-national identities and operations tailored to each market.
Exemplified by sinking perceptions of China, the last decade demonstrated that history has not necessarily ended and multinationals’ nationality associations still matter. Headquarters strengthened control over international operations and representation in senior positions. Advocates, armed with increasing information access, tracked and attacked multinationals’ cross-border behavior including profit-oriented offshoring, inversion, low-pay sourcing, sweatshops use, and pollution exportation. Governments, not-for-profits, and even indices began compelling good global corporate citizenship as they weighed-up contributors to global warming and broadened culpability for human rights, labor, and governance abuses exemplified by Royal Dutch Shell’ s reputational hit as the first multinational to have a judicial finding for complicity in a foreign state’s domestic violence (the Nigerian government’s violence in the Niger Delta and hanging of the Ogani 9). By the end of the 1990s, even multinationals accepted their need to dedicate greater attention to the national contexts they chose to enter by signing into the UN Global Compact.
The explicit reputational effect of national association that these trends introduced to the new millennium emphasized western multinationals’ clearly “bad” behavior in foreign countries, away from their home consumers. But a broad array of multinationals – recently exemplified by the Chinese civilian drone company DJI ’s suspension of Russian operations – experienced implicit reputational harm from national association with places perceived as “bad” even when they conformed to expectations of “good” behavior in those places.
National association is not an easy thing to systematically incorporate into good global corporate citizenship standards. First, a multinational’s national associations may not be clear given complicated incorporation contexts, convoluted global supply chain networks, and layers of ownership exchanges. Second, most places fall along a spectrum between “good” and “bad,” with their place varying according to what characteristics are considered. Third, the specific association between the “bad” characteristic of the place and the given company must be identified and weighed. Additional wildcards include why companies chose to incorporate where they did, the extent to which a company can disassociate with the “bad’ characteristics of a place, and broadening expectations for companies to have the “right” associations (often including very public action) with “good” places.
Good corporate citizenship expectations incentivize multinationals to avoid association with countries believed to have “bad” political and governmental leadership – or at least association with that leadership’s “bad” decisions and actions. Because national affiliation can often be a matter of choice, should it have more influence on good corporate citizenship and social responsibility than national origin? The short answer is that it depends on the contexts and nature – including degree – of affiliation. The affiliation may have begun preceding the place being considered “bad.” It may have taken place in the past, with the multinational attempting atonement or claiming disassociation from the involved leadership’s decisions. It may not be direct, coming in the form of supply chain partners, or may not be optional, as is the case for tech companies’ limited sourcing options for rare earths.
The incentive to avoid affiliation with “bad” places or “bad” leadership in those places is not as strong for less visible companies, especially those sitting quietly at the back of global supply chains. It does even less for national origin because an incorporated company cannot rewrite its place of origin. Given this inability, should good corporate citizenship take origin into consideration? The answer is, again, one of context and degree.
It may not be easy or even possible to identify the reason for a company’s place of incorporation, but the effort is needed to prevent unavoidable reputational harm for companies unable to be incorporated elsewhere. Should a tech start-up be reputationally penalized simply because it originated in China if the founder had no opportunity to incorporate elsewhere? And should this origin effect be the same as a company incorporated by a Turkish founder in the Netherlands given her domestic market’s instability or a company incorporated by an American founder in the Seychelles given its lenient tax code?
The question of origin becomes more complex with two more additional considerations. First is the composition of the founders and the original senior leadership. Second is the degree of immediate association with the political or governmental actors belonging to that place of origin. Going back to the Chinese example, should the company’s origin affect its reputation if individuals with a political background, government funding, or significant government incentives were a part of its founding? What if it isn’t clear how involved the government is in that company’s immediate or subsequent operations? Reputational assessment must be sensitive to the fact that a company’s place of incorporation may require its affiliation with specific political and governmental actors, especially in contexts where those actors play a strong hand in the private sector. Such contexts may not allow companies to remain isolated from such actors, much less adopt a public position against them. Considerations of origin must therefore take strategic silence into account, as well as the extent of distance companies are reasonably able to maintain between themselves and these actors.



















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.