The President is Flat

(with apologies to Thomas L. Friedman)

Technology has not only fundamentally altered information dispersal — a revolution greater than that of the printing press — but it has made it possible to instantaneously connect to and do business with any one of 6.1 billion people across the planet. The world is literally at our fingertips.

In so flat (i.e. connected) a world, what does it mean to be an American? How do you define nationalism when the lines between countries, especially in terms of trade, are nearly invisible? As foreign entities buy up American icons from beer dynasties to the Manhattan skyline (we own plenty of their stuff too, let’s not forget) it just goes to show how small the world has become. We couldn’t be isolationists now even if we wanted to be.

Our children or our children’s children will see the world very differently, I think. They will not view it through such obsessively possessive and slavishly, tight-fisted nationalistic ideology. I own something of yours and you own something of mine and that is the nature of things. Better yet, there will be no yours and mine. Just the world's. It is an undeniable paradigm shift, to be sure, and not one with which many people alive today are comfortable.

And it has started me thinking: has the presidency of the United States been flattened as well?

The presidency is regularly referred to as the most vital, powerful job in the world. The president’s policies affect not just this country, but the entire globe. His actions, or lack thereof, impact many around the world just as much as, if not more so in some cases, than their own country’s leaders. To a quantifiable degree, the leader of the world’s last remaining superpower is, at least partially, the president of the planet.

Yesterday, Barack Obama arrived in Berlin following his successful visit to Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel and other Middle Eastern states. So far, he has been greeted at every stop with throngs of rapturous praise and well-wishing. His inspiring speech at Berlin’s Tiergarten, the German capital’s equivalent of Central Park, drew a stunning 200,000 people. Many expect the same reaction in Paris and London, the final stops on his tour. Never before has Europe seen this kind of excitement for an American presidential contender.

Some Americans have reported that the larger the European crowds and the louder the accolades, the greater their distrust and apprehension of Barack Obama. I know many Americans would say that the Europeans can cheer (or boo) all they want — it doesn’t matter. What matters only is what Americans think. But does it?

American voters should elect Barack Obama, in part, precisely because the rest of the world wants to see him president. I realize this may strike many rugged, individualistic, isolationistic Americans as offensive, but in this shrunken, flat world, we would do well to at least listen to and consider the wishes of the world with whom we must work so closely.

Sure, the businessman from England, the farmer from France, or the machinist from Brazil can’t vote in our elections, but do their voices matter? Sure, the computer tech from India, the nurse from Israel, or the artist from Turkey don’t live here, aren’t citizens and aren’t invested in the American experiment, but do their voices matter?

I think they do and should. So long as our country’s policies and actions so significantly affect the rest of the planet, the planet’s many voices should be heard and weighed.

Don’t get me wrong, the world’s opinions shouldn’t dictate every aspect of your behavior at the ballot box. But our world is too small and our interactions too frequent, the line between us too tenuous to simply ignore the feelings of the rest of the world and, like arrogant cowboys, do our own thing, the rest of the world be damned. We Americans are already known, especially of late, for our narcissistic arrogance when it comes to foreign policy. We cannot afford to continue to snub the rest of the world and still expect it to respect or care for us. We cannot be the equivalent of the abusive husband who beats his wife and yet still demands and expects her love and admiration.

The world is keenly interested in this election. When I was in Germany a few months ago, I discovered that Obamamania was as potent in Berlin as it is in Boulder. Like us, the world is hungry for a sense of where America is going. After the abysmal unpopularity of the Bush Administration, perhaps the world is ready to love America again, to display the same sort of affection and respect that was so prevalent following 9/11 but was squandered immediately thereafter. Obama is seen as the symbol of American renewal. Europeans are elated by the idea that the United States can transform itself so suddenly from a pariah to a worldwide inspiration. And so should we be.

The world wants change too. And we should give it to them.