Cosmopolitanism

In our everyday and political lives, agreeing on practices is more important than agreeing on principles. This underlies Americans’ willingness to be governed by the US Constitution, for example. While there may be some shared American values, for the most part Americans agree about some basic points of democracy without agreeing why.

Appiah claims that it is extremely difficult to change someone’s mind through reasoned arguments across boundaries because the reasons provided will be so steeped in our own judgments. What’s more, most of what we do in life does not spring from reason but from cultural routine. When we are spurred to change, it’s from a gradual shift in point of view, as when Appiah’s father’s perspective on male circumcision was changed as a teenager by pressure from girls. When changes happen in cultures, conversations may happen, but it isn’t agreement on values that creates the shift.

We can live together without agreeing on values, but we can also clash with one another because we do agree on values. Appiah reviews current conflicts between parties who actually agree on values: Palestinians and Israelis on the significance of Jerusalem, for instance, or pro-choice and pro-life activists on the value of human lives. Debate over shared values can be especially painful.

Appiah emphasizes that these debates have a lot at stake and that some groups experience fear and anger at what other cultures might want to impose on them; there are losers in the experience of cultural change. Additionally, most shifts (like opinions on gay marriage) are primarily what people get used to. Conversation is useful not because it convinces with argument but because “it helps people get used to one another” (85).

Appiah describes attending a festival for the Asante king in Ghana. Although the day is marked by culturally specific tradition, it also significantly involves connections to places elsewhere on the globe and to 21st-century concerns.

Because Ghana is his country of origin, yet he has not lived there for more than 30 years, Appiah feels like both an insider and an outsider there. In Ghana, he is particularly struck by people always asking him for something; this is a sign of respect showing that people believe he has status. If you are not from Ghana at all, the culture might seem unfamiliar to you, but you can still imagine feeling as its inhabitants do, and many Ghanaian experiences are simply human and universal.

There are human capacities that are universal, Appiah says, although it’s important to be careful about what “universal” means. The capacity to see colors is universal, too, but there are individuals who are congenitally blind or colorblind. Still, it is normal everywhere for people to hold certain traits, even accounting for variation. Societies share some features based on common human experiences, and they share some features based on constant contact across societies. To have cross-cultural conversation, one only has to have some small common ground with their conversation partner, which is not difficult.

Appiah acknowledges the objection that taking an interest in strangers is more abstract than taking an interest in one’s own “in-group,” and he refutes this by pointing out that there can be shared identity even with strangers. For example, American Christians who send money to fellow Christians suffering abroad are finding common ground with others and reaching out cross-culturally. Appiah emphasizes that “when the stranger is no longer imaginary, but real and present,” it is possible for us to “make sense of each other in the end” (99).

Those who worry that globalization brings homogeneity overlook that globalization also works against homogeneity. Globalization presents people with access to diverse places and ways of life that traditional cultures do not. While the loss of a traditional way of life is to be mourned, Appiah asserts that we cannot force people to continue to practice “authentic culture” to protect it (104). Having a diverse global society means people are free to choose from different options.

Appiah argues that those who support “preserving culture” in the face of “cultural imperialism” often have problematic assumptions embedded in their claims (105). If people wish to preserve aspects of their culture, Appiah is supportive. However, when the aim is to preserve authenticity for its own sake, this raises questions of who decides what is authentic, how far back a practice must go to be considered authentic, and whether groups can decide not to engage in traditional culture if they wish.

Cultural imperialism is a fear shared by many, such as the French, who subsidize films about French life to counterbalance French interest in American films. Appiah explains that the theory of cultural imperialism is based on the idea that media corporations in the United States and Europe produce a product that shapes the consciousness of the rest of the world. Yet, Appiah argues, research on media consumption shows that (1) people around the world tend to prefer local media closer to their own culture, and (2) people are not passive consumers; they take meanings from soap operas, for example, that could not possibly have been anticipated by producers.

Appiah cites the life and work of Roman playwright Terence, as well as novelist Salman Rushdie, to show that contamination—a mixing of cultures due to migrations of all kinds—has enabled new ideas to enter the world for a long time; he emphasizes that this is not new. Settled cultural purity is not a worthy goal, and most people are already living a cosmopolitan life. Appiah sees this cosmopolitanism as workable if there is a way to have conversations about difference.

Appiah recounts the history of outsiders entering a country and helping themselves to its art and archeological treasures. He describes the British Empire looting the Asante kings’ palaces in the 19th century, as well as more recent examples of art smuggling from Mali. As a result, the international community has developed the idea of cultural patrimony, which means that the products of your culture belong to your culture (118).

The term “cultural patrimony” conflates two meanings of culture, Appiah argues: culture as what people create, and culture as a particular identity. The idea that culture can belong to a single nation or people is difficult. When older cultural artifacts originate from groups that no longer exist, to whom do they belong? He argues that it seems sensible to entrust them to the governments of the region in which they were located, so long as they are preserved for humanity.

If the process for determining where objects from archeological sites should go is the job of a government, however, Appiah argues the answer is not always to keep artifacts where they were found. All humanity should see great work. Moreover, a government like Mali’s could benefit from licensing outsiders’ excavations of artifacts rather than seeing them sold on the black market. Appiah argues that Mali needs money more than the art and that selling some Malian art could have exposed Malians to art from other cultures too.

Most countries have regulations about what cultural properties can be exported from their country, so that if you buy an Edvard Munch painting from a Norwegian, you might have trouble trying to export it. The problem with thinking of art as belonging to a place is that artists take influence from everywhere and the production of art is complex. A cosmopolitan perspective asks how regulations about culture can respect everyone’s interest in being exposed to art, including works of special significance.

Appiah notes a recent tendency to see culture as intellectual property; he notes some groups who have claimed ownership over images, stories, songs, and ceremonies. Comparing this to Disney Corporation’s interest in owning Mickey Mouse forever, he says that cultural patrimony results in the kind of “hyper-stringent doctrine of property rights […] that we normally associate with international capital” (130).

Appiah does not think the concept of cultural patrimony is necessary. He believes it is appropriate for artifacts to be sold from their home country, and while it is potentially good to return things to their makers’ descendants, it is not an obligation. Culture shared widely benefits all. Repatriation is sometimes appropriate, but deciding when can be determined through other values.

This chapter ends with Appiah’s reminder that the “imaginary connection” we feel with a work of art connected to our ancestors or ethnic group is not more important than the connection we can feel with any work produced by any human. Any art from anywhere potentially reminds us of the promise of human ability.