The Good Country Equation

How We Can Repair the World in One Generation

Simon Anholt

• Editorial: Berrett-Koehler Publishers
• Año: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781523089635
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Politica e relazioni internazionali
• Categoría: Politica globale

Why doesn't the world work? Simon Anholt, TED Talk sensation and advisor to world leaders, provides a startingly straightforward solution to our greatest challenges. How is it that, despite all the experience, power, technology, money and knowledge that humanity has accumulated, we are still unable to defeat the global challenges facing us today: climate change, migration, pandemics, extremism, slavery, war, drug trafficking, poverty and inequality? Using colorful descriptions of his experiences from Afghanistan to Zambia, from Bhutan to Canada, from the Faroe Islands to Mexico and from Latvia to Mongolia, Simon Anholt, advisor to governments worldwide and creator of the Good Country Index, tells how he began finding answers to that question. What he came to realize is that the solution is twofold. We need to educate our children to be truly global citizens, to see the impact of their actions beyond their country's borders. And we need to educate countries in the same way—to realize that they're responsible not only for their own people, but for how their actions affect every living being on the planet. And, he says, we can do it in one generation—because that's all the time we have.

1

From an Equation to an Invitation

FOR THE LAST TWENTY YEARS, I’VE WORKED AS AN INDEPENDENT policy adviser to the presidents, prime ministers, monarchs, and governments of more than fifty countries. Most of them have invited me to help them engage more productively and imaginatively with the governments and populations of other countries, although we’ve often ended up spending our time on very different challenges from the ones they thought they were facing.

In my discussions with them and with thousands of their citizens, from religious and business leaders to students and factory workers, I’ve always challenged them with the same basic questions: What is your country for? What is its gift to the world? How can it make a difference to the whole of humanity, not just to its own citizens? How should a country make itself useful in the twenty-first century and so earn its place in the world?

I suppose that very few people have ever had a job quite like mine, and nobody could lead a life like the one I’ve led without forming some views on where we humans stand today, how we got there, and where we’re going next—unless they were fast asleep.

But I’ve been wide awake since I first started working with countries, and on the plane on the way home from each foreign trip, after a glance at the newspaper with its usual crop of frightening headlines, I’ve found myself asking that same question: Why doesn’t the world work?

How is it that, despite all the experience, power, technology, money, and knowledge that humankind has accumulated, we still seem unable to defeat the biggest challenges facing us today: climate change, pollution, mass migration, overpopulation, corruption, disease and pandemics, extremism, slavery, war, terrorism, drug trafficking, hunger, weapons proliferation, species and habitat loss, prejudice and racism, unemployment, water scarcity, antibiotic resistance, human rights abuses, poverty, illiteracy, infant mortality, and inequality?

What a daunting list that is! From Afghanistan to Kazakhstan, from Austria to Bhutan, from the Faroe Islands to Mexico, and from Latvia to Botswana, this book tells the story of how I began looking for answers to that question and gradually built up a worldview, a philosophy, and at last a formula that I believe really could help make the world work better.

What Is the Good Country Equation?

The theory behind this book is the Good Country Equation, a simple summary of what I’ve learned about the world so far. The equation consists of a problem and a solution.

Yes, the Good Country Equation is a much simplified account of the state of things. The simplification is deliberate because, over the years, faced with a world that seems to become more bewilderingly complex and unstable with every month that passes, I’ve learned to revere simplicity: not the simplicity that comes from seeing only the surface of things, but the simplicity that comes from seeing through the surface.

PROBLEM: All the grand challenges of today are caused by the way countries and people behave. Countries compete more than they collaborate, so there are never enough resources to meet those challenges. And we still educate people in ways that only made sense before humanity became interdependent and its problems interconnected.

SOLUTION: We can change the way countries behave by proving to governments that collaborating to build a better world doesn’t mean national or political self-sacrifice: it boosts national standing and thus promotes growth and innovation. We can change the way that people behave in just one generation, starting with a new global compact on educational values.

I hope I’ve avoided the trap of expecting too much of humanity, or crediting it with more compassion, intelligence, foresight, or imagination than it really has. An objection I sometimes hear from critics of my work is that I don’t make sufficient allowances for people’s innate selfishness, their mistrust of each other, the greed and corruption and shortsightedness of politicians, the stupidity of crowds, the innate tendency of all humankind toward prejudice and tribalism.

Well, in one sense I am guilty as charged. I can’t help liking people and trusting in their capacity for good sense and kindness, even though these qualities aren’t always on show and have a frustrating tendency to emerge only when it’s too late for them to make much difference.

But I hope that my prejudice in favor of humanity is not based on naivete or sentimentality. I have always taken great care to test it repeatedly with objective research, observation, and study. Thanks to my unusual job, that prejudice is reinforced by direct experience of getting to know a great many people from all levels of society in many countries and a relentless compulsion to seek out and hear the people whose views and values differ most from my own. That’s not virtue: it’s plain curiosity, and a serious addiction to variety.

One further point I’d like to add before we get started: Just like every one of us, I have my own educational, social, cultural, and racial background, and of course it influences what I see, what I say about it, and the way I say it. I’m a bit of mongrel, and I’m proud of the fact that several histories, cultures, races, and religions form the background to who I am; and an even more varied and colorful professional and family experience over the last thirty years has added to my worldview. I have both overlords and underdogs in my family tree, citizens of a colonizing power and victims of ethnic cleansing. My personal experience of the world has been a privileged one, thanks largely to the hard work of my parents and grandparents, and the good luck of being born male in a rich country in peacetime with an appearance similar to that of the ethnic majority.

But culture, language, human nature, and human society have been my lifelong passion as well as my study. I have learned that it’s a mistake to fight the fact that my background shapes me; but it is also my duty to be constantly conscious of this bias and to factor it into my understanding of the world. My parents and my schools taught me from the moment I could understand it that the playing field I was about to enter was not a level one. The expression “Check your privilege” didn’t exist then, but it’s exactly what they had in mind. I haven’t always succeeded in following their advice, since putting yourself in other people’s shoes isn’t always easy, but I have always tried and will continue to do so.

Globalization: Curse or Cure?

One of the main reasons we’re facing all these challenges today is the same reason we’re capable of solving them: globalization.

Globalization is much more than a recent tale of corporate and financial overreach: in some respects it’s the story of our species. Ever since the first humans walked out of Africa sixty or seventy thousand years ago and stopped being a single tribe inhabiting a single territory, facing a single set of shared challenges, one of the stories of human endeavor has been the story of us trying to get back in touch again.

Today, thanks to our technologies of transport, communication, and computation, we’re nearly there: a single species inhabiting a single planet, once again facing a single set of shared challenges (all of which we’ve caused ourselves). It’s been a difficult journey and the path ahead looks frightening and unfamiliar, so it’s hardly surprising if, at times, we seem poised on the point of slipping backward again.

Globalization means many things, good and bad. Most of our progress and most of our setbacks have been both the cause and the consequence of our increasing global connectedness and interdependence. For me, one of the most positive consequences of globalization is the way it constantly stirs up human invention and creativity. Our species comprises many cultures, beliefs, languages, traditions, histories, mindsets, and ways of being in the world, and the more those elements are mixed together, the more new ideas we produce and the more progress we make. That’s how innovation and culture work. On the other hand, growing inequality is stretching the tolerance of humanity to the breaking point, and globalization is deeply implicated in that process.

So while the problems we’re facing today look, and are, truly daunting—in part because for the first time in our history we’re acutely and instantly aware of all of them, and they’re connected in a thousand new ways—we are also armed with an infinite variety of new solutions to those problems, precisely because we’re so well connected and the combination of our different skills and experiences, and our imagination, is so formidable.

The extent to which we choose to increase and make use of those connections, to work together, to acknowledge how all our problems are shared, and to deliberately stir up our innovations and our solutions will determine how successfully we tackle the challenges facing us today.

We’ve allowed many parts of globalization to spiral out of control, and there are failures and responsibilities that need to be acknowledged before we can press Reset. But there are also many aspects of globalization that deserve to be celebrated, and it’s critical that we make the effort to see both sides of the story.

Many of us are in danger of allowing ourselves to become discouraged and downhearted, even cynical and fatalistic, just when we need the most hope and the most energy. Despondency is one of the habits of our age and a temptation we must resist. I hope that reading this book may help restore redress the balance between realistic concern and justifiable optimism.

The way I’ve written this book is a little unusual. It’s an autobiographical travelogue which incorporates research, analysis, and case studies, but it’s also a call to action, ending with some specific proposals that I intend to pursue with, I hope, the help of many of my readers. In other words, it’s the story of an unfinished journey and an invitation to continue it together. I hope that the story of where I’ve come from will interest and encourage you enough to join me where I’m going.

2

From Perceptions to Propaganda

MY STORY STARTS IN A PLACE WHICH MIGHT SEEM UNCONNECTED with the state of the world today or with the solutions we must find to the huge challenges that humanity faces in the second decade of the twenty-first century.

In the late 1990s, ten years after founding and running a firm that helped companies navigate the complexities of language and culture around the world, I found myself getting more and more interested in the way people perceive certain products and the countries they come from, and the complex ways in which the two are linked. Many years would pass before I realized that the question of national image was much more than a curiosity at the fringes of marketing: it would prove to be a new and powerful incentive for governments to join the global fight against climate change, diesase, poverty, inequality, conflict, and other global challenges.

In 1998, I wrote an essay in a marketing journal. It was an academic journal, but my contribution wasn’t scholarly: I didn’t quote any other authors, the research I’d conducted was limited, and the entire paper had only two footnotes. Well, I’m not an academic and had no aspirations to become one. But I’d had an idea, and I wanted to share it with anyone who was prepared to listen.

In the paper, I explored the idea that all countries have images and that in our age of advanced globalization those images have become increasingly important. A country with a powerful and positive image (like, say, Switzerland) finds it pretty easy to attract tourists, foreign investment, students and researchers, international events, consumers for its products and services, and the attention and respect of other governments and the media. All this adds up to yet more progress and prosperity for countries like Switzerland. On the other hand, a country that fewer people know about (Suriname, for example) or that has primarily negative associations at this point in its history (like Syria), finds it difficult and expensive. To put it simply, countries in good standing trade at a premium; countries in poor standing trade at a discount.

However outdated, inaccurate, and unfair the popular images of countries may be, I wrote, they still have a huge impact because they influence the choices people make about what to buy, where to visit or work or study, where to invest, whom to believe, and whom to trust. In an interconnected and interdependent world, the casual and often uninformed beliefs of billions of ordinary people, driving their everyday behavior, truly determine the fate of nations.

To illustrate my point, I described how people will happily pay a premium for a completely new and unfamiliar product as long as it carries a familiar name: a new electronic gadget from Sony, for example. And behind the reassuring corporate brand of Sony, I argued, there was a bigger, even more powerful presence: the nation brand of Japan.

Perceptions of this sort—Japanese technology is more advanced, Italian fashion more fashionable, German engineering more reliable, American youth labels cooler—are so potent that even products from an unknown company will have a head start in the marketplace as long as the company looks or sounds as if it comes from one of the “right” countries. And countries that can’t provide these associations to their companies, that don’t evoke this feeling of trust or excitement or prestige with consumers in other parts of the world, are lacking a basic competitive advantage. “Made in Myanmar,” no matter how good the products might be, just won’t sell as much premium tech as “Made in Japan.” The value of Japan’s or Germany’s image to its economy is almost beyond calculation.

After my paper was published, a helpful academic wrote to tell me that the phenomenon I had described was properly known as “the country-of-origin effect” and that it had been thoroughly researched. In fact, he had personally authored, coauthored, and edited more than forty papers on the subject since the late 1970s. I felt suitably chastised and began to read up on the topic.

If there was anything original in my paper aside from the phrase I had coined, nation brand, I suppose it was my observation that the same phenomenon applied to many more aspects of a country’s international engagements than just its products. A country’s reputation seems to influence, and is in turn influenced by, everything that country and its people make, sell, say, and do. This effect extends from hosting the Olympics to promoting tourism; from the safety record of its national airline to the behavior of its diplomats; from the value of its currency to the ease or difficulty with which its citizens can find a job or be admitted to a university when they move abroad.

National standing matters, and it matters deeply. Yet it’s largely based on superficial, childish stereotypes that don’t begin to do justice to the richness and complexity of those places—which was why I made the comparison with the images of companies and products. It felt to me that the processes of globalization were turning the cultural, historical, and human wealth of nations into little more than products on the shelf of some gig...