In his essay entitled “An Archaeology of the Global Era: Constructing A Belief,” Armand Mattelart investigates the “archaeology” of the term ‘globalization’ as it has been adopted into our social and linguistic history. To trace the lineage of the term, he must look at the ideological models of what a civilized and unified society looks like over time. In addition, we must criticize the manner in which the term “globalization” has been employed and appropriated into our modern lexicon in order to note the implications of its connotation with a perceived social utopia as it stands against the discourse of power.
Mattlehart starts out by pointing to two important factors which define the history of globalization, the first being the notion of the modern “social utopia” where people are united by historically significant social institutions such as nationalism, common religion, political and economic systems (Mattlehart 2002). In order to understand how postmodern society envisions the progress of “the global era,” we must also look the place where technology and geopolitical systems of power intersect. For example, a utopic world view may correspond to social homogeneity. In the example of Nazi Germany, a globalized society also meant the eradication of an ethnic population. In this case, a “global” society shares commonalities, such as race, religion, and ethnic backgrounds. A narrow view of globalization allows for us to envision a world in which hegemonic ideology rebuffs social heterogeneity.
At the same time, however, Mattlehart points out that by employing the social power of the global era, we are able to create social networks in places which transcend geographical remoteness. In other words, a classroom in New York can connect via the cyber world to a classroom in Japan in real time. The pervasive nature of telecommunications negates the challenges of social exclusion and creates a virtual world where inclusive classrooms literally may include students from another country, another language, another social space 5,000 miles away. For this, the term “globalization” yields a more positive connotation because it infers that the sharing of knowledge (and, thus, information) across borders can exceed the physical boundaries of the nation-state.
Beyond these two ways of looking at globalization, however, we must also look the place where technology and geopolitical systems of power intersect. According to Mattlehart, postmodern society envisions “the global era” as progressive whereas the dissemination of knowledge is far-reaching. Yet to see globalization as solely a concept which describes global knowledge-sharing can get us into trouble. Knowledge also comes in various forms: a shared political or economic system, for example. To further illustrate what he means, Mattlehart is careful to describe that American consumerism is not simply an American value. As America exports images of consumer capitalism to the world, the subtext of these images suggests that a global society is also a “western” society with western ideologies (p. 318) such as neoliberal free-trade markets. The problem with this particular notion of a global society lies within the underlying notion that for a culture to “progress,” it must also “possess” (material goods). Where we spoke of the global sharing of knowledge, we can see that information (or knowledge) can also produce a flow of dominant social values.
All in all, Mattlehart does an excellent job mapping out the origins of “globalization” over time—from the imperialist notion of owning the physical properties of the nation-state to a virtual imperialism where Western media flow saturates non-Western culture like an oil spill; oil and water will not necessarily mix, but nevertheless, the oil coats everything in its path. In a time when cultural diversity is celebrated, it is also institutionalized throughout places of business and incorporated into professional training. It seems as though this idea of “multiculturalism” is sanitary and almost commercialized, itself. I bring up this topic in particular because, to me, the “other” has become exoticized in Westernized depictions of the cultural “other.” For example, Jim Jarmusch's film Dead Man (1995) is a critique on industry and the literal (and figurative) Westernization of the American West. Against the backdrop of the ruddy and arcane wilderness, we watch Bill Blake (a naive white man from Ohio) poorly navigate the rugged landscape. Only with the help of his Native American friend, Nobody (Gary Farmer), is he able to escape his fate of being hunted down by a vicious bounty hunter. The film speaks directly to this intersection between Westernization (industry) and the natural; Bill Blake represents the awkwardness of industry as it inserts itself into raw, natural terrain. However, the character of Nobody—although he has been educated in the “white man’s schools” in London—is seemingly more natural in this habitat than Bill Blake could ever be simply because of his Native American heritage. While this depiction of Nobody is certainly a nod to whiteness looking at non-whiteness, which at the time perceives the Native American perspective as “nobody,” it is also reminiscent of this idea that no matter the background of the individual, the Native American character will always know how to live amongst the wilds of the forest. This is simply not true; a person’s experiences and sociocultural background can sharply contrast the expectations that his or her skin color, ethnicity or native language may superficially imply.
If we are to consider this aspect of transcendence, a place where cultural stereotypes are subverted in light of a globalized society, then perhaps the positive implications of "the global era" can include aspects of possibility as we imagine the nature of identity. We must be conscious, however, to consider the negative connotations of globalization which suggest that in order to be a part of a global society, you must also be connected to dominant cultural ideology. And those of us who are disconnected from it are, therefore, left to flounder awkwardly (as if you could flounder elegantly) on the fringes of civil "potential." Globalization can produce a false or illusory worldview of citizenship—that we belong to one (global) culture which recognizes similar beliefs, engages in similar rituals and possesses similar values. To progress into a global era, we must also think about what it means to possess sameness. I’m not sure if Mattlehart is successful in his final assessment of what a true social utopia looks like. If he wants us to consider that a globalized society is a society which collectively agrees to let “the singularity of places” remain culturally unique—then how can we celebrate the heterogeneity of the geopolitical landscape without trying to make it something that it’s not? I have to wonder if we can have a truly connected and communal “universe” if the “universal” is inherently diverse. Indeed the notion of the global also denotes oneness, to belong to an interconnected system of beliefs and ideologies--a matrix of discursive communities. Can we be separate but together? In Dead Man, two worlds of man converge in the Western frontier: the industrial pitted against the natural. And when these two, diametrically opposed worlds converge, does this intersection not produce the possibility of a third? Nobody exhibits this possibility of a third as he is ethnically Native American, educated in a Western school, and returned to his homeland as something other than the person he was before. He is Nobody. Yet he is a representation of Some-body who embodies the salient nature of identity in a globalized world even before the advent of the internet, before computers, before the vast network of telecommunications.
Perhaps the true meaning of the global era can be understood when we consider that it is possible to be both separate and together at the same time. It is possible to move at a differentiated pace over a vast technological frontier, and movement at any rate in time/space continuum provides for us a common ground--a global ground. I also wonder sometimes if you can have your cake and eat it, too. But that’s a different story all together.
Or is it?
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