The United States’ decision to withdraw from certain UN and international organizations – or even to threaten withdrawal – is never just an administrative move buried in the paperwork of diplomacy. It’s a political and economic shift that touches the very core of the international or-der that Washington itself helped build after World War II, when it shaped the rules of a “multi-lateral world” and tied its own military and economic influence to a network of institutions that produce legitimacy, set standards, and manage crises.

So the real question isn’t why is America withdrawing? It’s, what does this mean for the world – and for America’s own standing?

Politically, a U.S. withdrawal strikes at the idea of leadership before it strikes the institution be-ing left. Membership in organizations such as the World Health Organization, UNESCO, or the Human Rights Council isn’t merely symbolic. It means a daily presence in decision-making, a seat at the table where standards are written, the ability to build coalitions inside these bodies, and influence over funding priorities, reports, and programs. When Washington exits an institu-tion, it’s not punishing that institution alone – it’s, in practice, giving up key tools of its “soft power” in favor of other actors ready to fill the vacuum, led by the European Union, not to men-tion China, Russia, and regional powers seeking to redefine standards in line with their own in-terests.

This surrender doesn’t immediately show up as a military loss or an instant economic setback. Instead, it takes shape in a more dangerous form: the erosion of America’s ability to steer the rules of the game. International institutions don’t operate as “charities,” but as platforms that generate legitimacy. Whoever writes the rules later gains advantages in trade, technology, fi-nance, and even crisis management. Withdrawal – especially when repeated or turned into a bargaining tactic – creates the impression that Washington no longer sees itself as the “guaran-tor of the system,” but as a selective player that treats institutions as short-term deals. That, in turn, opens the door to a deeper trust question: Are U.S. commitments subject to change with every political cycle?

At the level of relations with allies, the impact is no less sensitive. U.N. and international organi-zations aren’t only channels for dealing with adversaries – they’re also mechanisms for coordi-nation with friends. Europe, for example, has historically invested in multilateral legitimacy and sees it as an alternative or complement to hard power. For that reason, any American with-drawal is read in allied capitals as a shift away from partnership and toward either unilateral pressure or retreat. This forces allies to rethink their assumptions, develop backup plans, and perhaps increase their strategic autonomy in areas such as health, energy, security, and the economy.

The economic side of withdrawal is no less serious than the political one – indeed, it may prove more costly in the long run. It ‘s easy to sell withdrawal to the American public as a way to “save money” by cutting financial contributions or reducing obligations. But a realistic calculation is far more complex. These institutions aren’t simply spending items; they function as a form of “global insurance” against shocks. The World Health Organization, for instance, isn’t just an office in Geneva. It’s an early-warning network and a global coordination hub against pandem-ics, and a scientific reference point for managing health risks that quickly turn into economic crises – through supply chain disruptions, lower productivity, rising emergency spending, and market turmoil. What’s paid as a membership fee or contribution may, in reality, be a small premium that helps avoid a massive bill when disaster strikes.

Withdrawal also weakens America’s ability to influence the technical and knowledge standards that gradually become market rules. UNESCO, for example, isn’t only about culture and herit-age. It’s a space where education, scientific research, digital identity, and knowledge policy in-tersect. Stepping away from that table means losing influence in the “economy of the future,” where standards come before products, reputation comes before investment, and institutional language often comes before national legislation.

The economic impact also appears through the channel of uncertainty. Even the threat of with-drawal – before it’s carried out – creates volatility in expectations. Investors, especially deci-sion-makers in major institutions and pension funds, dislike political swings that signal rapid changes in rules and commitments. When foreign policy becomes a wave of withdrawals or threats, markets begin asking: Is the United States a partner whose behavior can be predicted? Or have political risks become part of the pricing of American assets? This doesn’t necessarily mean an immediate move away from the dollar or U.S. Treasury bonds. But it can mean adding a “risk premium,” even a small one – and over time, small can become big.

Globally, the largest power withdrawing from international institutions creates two gaps: a fund-ing gap and a leadership gap. The funding gap hits programs in the most fragile countries, where health, education, and development sectors rely heavily on contributions from major states. The leadership gap means a reduced ability to coordinate responses to cross-border crises. And when institutions weaken, what emerges isn’t a single, unified global alternative. Instead, regional al-ternatives and bilateral deals multiply – deepening fragmentation, raising coordination costs, and producing competing standards. The result isn’t “a world with less bureaucracy,” as some claim, but a world that’s more chaotic – and more expensive for trade, investment, and crisis management.

In the end, U.S. withdrawal from UN and international organizations – or turning withdrawal into a permanent pressure tool – is a decision that goes beyond foreign policy. It amounts to redefin-ing America’s role in the international system. It may deliver short-term domestic gains through the rhetoric of sovereignty and reduced commitments, but it comes with a political price in the form of shrinking soft power and eroding trust, and an economic price in the form of higher risks, reduced ability to shape standards, and weaker “global insurance” against shocks. In a world where crises are accelerating – from pandemics to climate change to supply chain dis-ruptions – the cost of withdrawal appears greater than the benefits of stepping back. Those who leave the table don’t stop the game – they simply allow others to rewrite its rules.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the writers are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Annahar.