Globalization with a human face

The Lexus and the Olive Tree: Understanding Globalization, by Thomas L. Friedman

We now have a name for the dominant reality of the post-cold-war epoch: globalization. Thomas Friedman rightly describes globalization as an all-embracing phenomenon shaped by global capitalism. He approaches the topic in a remarkably comprehensive fashion, offering an overview of six no longer separable dimensions: politics, culture, technology, finance, national security and ecology.

Friedman, a foreign-affairs columnist for the New York Times, has a very readable, journalistic style. Brilliantly selected anecdotes and personal reminiscences communicate what is going on around the world. Much of his account is neutral. He describes globalization and allows readers to respond favorably or unfavorably, to be excited or appalled. Whereas the cold war was fought over the views of Karl Marx and Geoffrey Keynes, "who each in his own way wanted to tame capitalism," the current era unleashes capitalism to perform its essential work of "creative destruction."

The speed by which your latest invention can be made obsolete or turned into a commodity is now lightning quick. Therefore, only the paranoid, only those who are constantly looking over their shoulders to see who is creating something new that will destroy them and then staying just one step ahead of them, will survive. Those countries that are most willing to let capitalism quickly destroy inefficient companies . . . will thrive in the era of globalization.

Despite his awareness of many of the losses and dangers involved in globalization, Friedman communicates his excitement. His explicit account of his position is moderate:

I feel about globalization a lot like I feel about the dawn. Generally speaking, I think it is a good thing the sun comes up every morning. It does more good than harm. But even if I didn't much care for the dawn there isn't much I could do about it. I didn't start globalization, I can't stop it—except at a huge cost to human development—and I'm not going to waste my time trying. All I want to think about is how I can get the best out of this new system, and cushion the worst, for the most people.

The analogy with the rising of the sun suggests inevitability—a widely held perception about globalization. Yet many of Friedman's statements counter this view. One could draw from his account evidence that the global economy can easily be derailed. For example, he fears that if we do not adopt policies that ease the pain of globalization on displaced workers and others, the U.S. may become a society of "high walls and tinted windows."

One of the prerequisites for globalization is that the U.S. act as a relatively benevolent hegemon, willing to shoulder extra responsibilities and even give others a free ride. Friedman worries that most Americans do not support the kind of international policies required for America to perform this role. He points out that in the wake of the financial meltdowns in Southeast Asia and Russia, some economists were calling for slowing down the movement of global capital. Putting "sand in the gears" like this could bring the global economy "to a screeching, metal-bending halt." Friedman understands that most nations do not have the infrastructure or culture needed to participate in the global economy and may balk at making the necessary changes. But if major countries do this, the globalization project will fail.

Perhaps, then, globalization is more of a choice than his analogy with the dawn suggests. Perhaps there are real options, and Friedman's goal is to encourage us to choose globalization and to pay the necessary price. Perhaps his real position is better stated in this climactic image: