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Kim Ju-Ae’s increasingly prominent appearances alongside her father, North Korean leader Kim Jong Un, are fueling expectations that the 13-year-old is being prepared to inherit one of the world’s most isolated states.

She has appeared on North Korean state television at ballistic missile launches, rifle drills and, most recently, aboard a tank. In February, South Korea’s National Intelligence Service reported that she was being groomed as a possible successor.

If Ju-Ae eventually takes power, she would represent the fourth generation of Kim family rule. That prospect threatens to prolong a hereditary system that has already imposed enormous costs on North Korea.

Kim Il Sung isolated the country through the Juche doctrine. His son, Kim Jong Il, presided over North Korea’s worst famine, which killed more than 3.5 million people. Kim Jong Un has reportedly executed more than 400 officials during his rule, while his half-brother was also killed.

Elevating Ju-Ae would place family lineage above the needs of a country facing deep economic, diplomatic and humanitarian challenges.

At 13, her only visible political experience consists of carefully staged appearances intended to raise her public profile. She has never administered a province, negotiated an agreement or made consequential government decisions.

Even if she does not succeed her father for another decade, she would have far less preparation than Kim Jong Il had before taking power in 1994. He spent roughly 20 years advancing through party institutions and working in propaganda, security and military oversight.

North Korea needs more than a familiar surname. Its per-capita gross domestic product is about $1,300, despite the country’s nuclear arsenal, and its economy has contracted under international sanctions every year since 2016. North Koreans also live an average of 12 years less than South Koreans.

Addressing poverty, isolation and economic stagnation requires extensive knowledge of economics and geopolitics, as well as a willingness to negotiate. Ju-Ae has spent her childhood inside an extraordinarily closed political system, making it difficult to see how she could develop those qualities.

Syria offers a warning about hereditary succession without adequate political preparation. Bashar al-Assad was an ophthalmologist with limited political experience when he inherited the presidency after his father’s death in 2000. His rule ultimately became entwined with a civil war that killed more than 500,000 people.

A young successor could also trigger a struggle within North Korea’s ruling elite. Kim Jong Un faced resistance after taking power at 27, twice Ju-Ae’s current age. He consolidated control by executing his uncle, Jang Song Thaek, and purging dozens of officials.

Ju-Ae could enter office younger, less experienced and more exposed to challenges from seasoned figures. Powerful officials—including Kim Jong Un’s sister, Kim Yo Jong—might resist yielding authority to a teenager despite her bloodline. Any ensuing contest could destabilize the country further.

A lost chance for reform

Another Kim succession could squander an opportunity for economic change. After Mao Zedong’s death ended his leadership of China in 1976, Deng Xiaoping pursued “reform and opening up,” modernizing the economy while preserving one-party rule. Those policies helped lift more than 800 million people out of poverty.

Ju-Ae would face a fundamental obstacle to pursuing comparable reforms. Her education has reportedly occurred entirely within North Korea’s closed system, unlike her father, who studied in Switzerland as a child.

Her claim to power would also depend on the legitimacy of her family and its ideology. Acknowledging the failures of Juche or adopting lessons from market economies could weaken the very foundation of her succession. A leader outside the dynasty could blame failed policies on previous rulers and change course more easily.

Making Ju-Ae a ceremonial leader would not solve the problem. Competing officials could attempt to fill the resulting power vacuum, while she might still assert authority based on her lineage. Her elevation would also reinforce hereditary dictatorship and make any transition away from Kim family rule more difficult.

International criticism alone is unlikely to change North Korea’s plans. Even so, other countries should decline to legitimize another dynastic succession and should support alternatives that place governing ability ahead of heredity.

Democracy is unlikely to emerge in North Korea soon, but a collective leadership structure could still offer an improvement. A governing council of experienced party officials, military leaders and specialists could assume responsibility for economic policy and domestic affairs. The Supreme People’s Assembly and cabinet already exist, but they lack genuine governing power; restoring meaningful authority to those institutions could distribute decision-making more effectively.

At a minimum, North Korea could select leaders for their qualifications rather than their ancestry. That would remain authoritarian rule, but competence in areas such as economics and diplomacy would be preferable to installing an unprepared heir.

The central injustice is that North Korea’s 26 million people would once again receive a leader they had no role in choosing. The country’s prospects will remain bleak as long as genetics—not capability—determines who governs.