Global Problem Solving Without the Globaloney

November 2, 2014 Editor 0

By Pankaj Ghemawat

There is widespread belief not just that
globalization is on the rise, but that it is already (close to) complete. Fed by books such as
Thomas Friedman’s The World is Flat, and by heightened awareness of truly global problems
such as climate change, large numbers of people believe that many, if not most, of
today’s social and environmental problems are the result of global trends and that their
solutions must also be global in nature. I refer to such overstatements about the extent
of globalization as “globaloney.”

Consider a few examples of globaloney. The French guess that immigrants make up
24 percent of France’s population—three times the actual level. British air travelers guess
that international air transport accounts for more than 20 percent of energy-related
greenhouse gas emissions—10 times the actual level. And Americans guess that foreign
aid accounts for more than 30 percent of the US federal budget—30 times the actual level!

Globaloney doesn’t plague just the general populace—it also infects
leaders of nonprofit, business, government, and multilateral
organizations. When I polled an assembly of the national envoys to
the World Trade Organization, an overwhelming majority agreed
with Friedman’s characterization of the world as flat—even though
it raised existential questions about what they were doing in Geneva.

Globaloney has many negative consequences. It obscures the
potential gains from additional globalization, swells fears about its
adverse consequences, and causes companies to adopt strategies
of “bigger and blander.”¹ It also induces organizations and groups
of organizations of all kinds to put undue emphasis on global solutions
to social and environmental problems that should instead be
tackled at a regional, national, or even local level. This misplaced
emphasis matters because it overstretches our limited capacity for
true “global problem solving” when it matters.

Consider, for instance, the Rio process orchestrated by the United
Nations. It began amid much optimism with the 1992 Earth Summit,
but has proven to be a colossal disappointment. Why has it largely
failed? In addition to three treaties—on climate change, biodiversity,
and desertification (which a review 20 years later in Nature graded with
an “F”²)—the Earth Summit resulted in Agenda 21, an “action plan”
that covered an astounding 27 program areas and 116 individual issues
such as promoting sustainable development through trade, providing
adequate financial resources to developing countries, meeting primary
health care needs, and providing adequate shelter for all. Were they
all appropriate subjects for a global conclave? By my reckoning, action
primarily at the global level was invoked for only two of the 116
issues. Of the remaining, one-third resulted in calls for action primarily
at the local level, another one-third for action at the local and
global levels, and the remainder for action at the regional level as well.
This classification, although subjective, is suggestive. It reminds us
that not everything needs international coordination—and that even
when international coordination is required, sub-global approaches
(between only two nations, for example) may make more sense.

The other obvious problem with the Rio process was that the deliberations
at the Earth Summit involved 172 governments and 2,400
representatives of nongovernmental organizations (NGOs)—not to
mention the 17,000 attendees at the parallel NGO Global Forum,
which was accorded consultative status. And Rio+20 (the follow-on
to the Earth Summit that took place in 2012) saw a further explosion
in the number of NGOs participating. More than three times
as many NGOs were officially involved, along with many more representatives
from the business and investor communities.

There were some definite attractions to bringing civil society into
the picture to supplement traditional government-to-government
interactions, but the dismal results remind us that broad participation
doesn’t guarantee that problems will actually be solved.

Global Designs

To better understand how to differentiate between global and sub-global
issues, and to pursue programs that are sized appropriately
to the problem and the solution, I’ve devised five design principles,
which I call the Five Ds: devolution, distance-sensitivity, distance-directedness,
distinctive-competence, and de-biasing.

The first principle, devolution, emphasizes that not everything
needs international coordination. It is based on the fact that most social and commercial interactions are only 10 to 20 percent globalized.
Only a few interactions cross the 30 percent mark—and
even that threshold still embodies a huge amount of “home bias.”
The fact that most international flows occur between countries
that are near each other geographically suggests the distance-sensitivity
principle: Even if international coordination is required, high
levels of distance-sensitivity typically favor sub-global approaches
focusing on regions or sub-regions. Remapping the world in terms of
multiple forms of distance (economic, cultural, and administrative,
along with geographic) reveals the power of the distance-directedness
principle in guiding choices about the locus of activity or operation
(“where”), which activities to perform (“what”), and ways to organize
to get them done effectively (“how”).

Realism about the general difficulties of cross-border operations
and the management challenges confronting nonprofits, in particular,
underlines the usefulness of the distinctive-competence principle:
ask not only whether something is worth doing, but also if you, your
organization, or your network are or can become capable of doing
it well. And finally, remembering that most individuals are still
quite distrustful of foreigners leads to the de-biasing principle: the
importance of deliberately building cross-border trust by reducing
home bias due to ignorance or prejudice.

Adhering to the Five Ds might not only have improved the outcomes
of the Rio process, they also hold the potential to (re)direct
and improve social initiatives. Consider a social innovation that has
stirred up considerable interest recently: global solutions networks
(GSNs), defined by author Don Tapscott as consisting of “diverse
stakeholders, organized to address a global problem, making use of
transnational networking, and with membership and governance that
are self-organized.”³ The emergence of GSNs, which now number
well into the hundreds if not thousands, is often extolled in glowing
terms. (Examples of GSNs include knowledge and policy networks
like the International Competition Network, advocacy and watchdog
networks like Human Rights Watch, governance networks like the
Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers, and operational
and delivery networks like the Red Cross.) And the potential
for GSNs is indeed enhanced by the growing connectivity afforded by
the Internet—the enabler emphasized by Tapscott—and the explosive
growth of what Ashoka founder Bill Drayton calls the citizen sector.⁴

Before we get carried away with the prospects for GSNs, it is worth
remembering that global conditions are in many respects more challenging
today than they were when the Rio process was launched in
1992. Then, the world economy was growing rapidly, globalization
was increasing, and the easing of Cold War tensions raised hopes of
a real shift away from war and conflict and toward development and
sustainability. Today, economic conditions are generally bleaker in
advanced economies, and even faster-growing emerging economies (such as China, India, and Brazil) have experienced slumps in their
growth rates. Globalization itself, after surging through 2007, faltered
in the wake of the financial crisis.⁵ And ongoing threats to global stability
and cooperation include regional economic crises such as those
in the Eurozone; increases in income inequality in many countries and
of xenophobia in some; continued trade imbalances; talk of currency
wars and uncertainty about the dollar’s future as the world’s reserve
currency; the growing obsolescence of multilateral institutions, many
of which were set up in the aftermath of World War II; and geopolitical
tensions in regions such as the South China Sea and Ukraine.

Against this backdrop, the notion of self-organizing GSNs spontaneously
generating solutions to global problems of the sort wrestled with
at Rio appears to be a triumph of hope over experience. At least some
other scholars who have looked at GSNs have come to similar conclusions.⁶ Nevertheless, GSNs do exist, and organizations are tackling
social and environmental problems at a global scale. The Five Ds are
meant to provide guidance for these organizations that is grounded in
what research has revealed about globalization and the responses to it.

The Devolution Principle

Not all the issues raised at Rio required the powers of global problem
solving (as opposed to global exhortation). Many of them could
be better handled at the regional, national, or local level. But there
seems to be a tendency to attach the handle “global” to issues for no
other reason than to give them extra emphasis. Given the limits on
our capacity for global governance, cutting back on such globaloney
is one way to concentrate that capacity where it really matters.

Let’s look at some relevant evidence—at data measuring the
levels of internationalization of activities that can take place either
domestically or across borders. (See “Internationalization
Levels” at right.) It turns out that the international component
of these activities represents a small
fraction—typically less than 20 percent
and often less than 10 percent—of the total. Only for a few—mostly
financial⁷—variables do internationalization
levels exceed 30 percent—and
even that threshold still embodies a
huge amount of home bias.

Actual levels of globalization are
much lower than the levels one would
expect to see if the world were flat
(which would typically be 85 percent
or more). They are also significantly
lower than most people’s intuitions. In
an online survey that Harvard Business
Review conducted for me, respondents
pegged international phone calls at 29
percent of the total, immigrants at 22
percent of the world’s population, and
foreign direct investment at 32 percent
of total capital formation—an average
estimate of 27 percent, more than five
times the actual average.⁹ (CEOs, interestingly
enough, overestimated by
a factor of nearly seven!)

A common counterargument to my point is that even if the extent
of globalization is small today, a borderless world may be just
around the corner. Looking back in history, however, reveals that
the changes that have occurred are rather mixed. The percentage
of the world’s population composed of immigrants is the same now
as it was in 1910. And some of the pre-financial crisis measures of
cross-border financial flows are comparable to earlier peaks more
than 100 years ago. Because financial flows actually dropped significantly
in the aftermath of the financial crisis, it is probably more
accurate to describe the current trend as increasing fragmentation,
not increasing integration.

Proponents of a flat world often point to the Internet and, more
broadly, to the fact that in the last few decades the cost of communication
has plummeted and the richness of what can be transmitted
has exploded “in a way that changes everything.” But the portion of
Internet traffic that crosses international borders is actually about 17
percent—five times as high as telephone calls, but far below the level
one would expect in a flat world. Similarly, an estimated 16 percent
of people’s friends on Facebook are foreign,¹⁰ as are 25 percent of
the people that individuals follow on Twitter.¹¹ Just because we are
able to befriend anyone living anywhere on Facebook doesn’t mean
that we will—there is an important distinction between potential
connectivity and actual connectedness.

All of these data suggest that the agenda for global problem solving
can be simplified by deemphasizing areas where the critical phenomena
unfold mainly at a local or national level. The environmental
externalities caused by pollution provide an interesting example.
For distance-sensitive pollutants that stay more or less within national
borders—most ground and water pollution—local solutions
are generally appropriate. Pollutants that cross national borders to a
significant extent—usually airborne ones—are the ones that require
cross-border cooperation.

The growth and sustainability of cities
provides another, somewhat different
example. It may make sense to build a
knowledge network to share information
on, say, sustainable cities around
the world, and even to build an advocacy
network to engage in cross-border lobbying
for more enlightened urbanism, but
those are limited functions that don’t require
much coordination across borders.

The broader point is that a problem
needs to be more than globally widespread
to be a candidate for global solutions
that go beyond simple information-sharing.
Requiring some coordination of
responses across borders, rather than
simply sharing information about different
types of possible responses, is
the acid test for global problem solving.
Hence the devolution principle: Not every
global problem needs coordination
across national borders, and many issues
are, in fact, tackled most effectively at the
national or local level.

The Distance-Sensitivity Principle

If the devolution principle was about determining which issues should
be coordinated internationally and which should be addressed at the
local or national level, the distance-sensitivity principle is about how
best to structure what does make it onto the international agenda.
This principle is predicated on the law of distance—the observation
that the lion’s share of international interactions takes place
between countries that are close to each other rather than far apart.
What this implies is that many “international” issues are actually
regional ones and not truly global.

The distance-sensitivity principle can be illustrated by extending
the earlier discussion of pollution. Airborne pollutants can range across
borders, but in very different ways. Acid rain, for example, tends to
have a regional footprint, accounting for the success of intra-regional
initiatives such as cooperation between the United States and Canada
(most notably, their 1991 Air Quality Agreement), which has helped reduce
North American acid rain by 65 percent since 1976. In contrast,
carbon dioxide emissions that cause global warming have an unusually
low distance-sensitivity and, therefore, warrant a fully global focus.

It is not just pollutants that obey the law of distance. Distance-sensitivity
also applies to the voluntary international interactions
that are more commonly studied in the context of globalization:
trade in products and services, flows of capital, migrations of people,
and flows of information. Instead of being randomly distributed,
these flows often have a regional structure.

Germany, for example, is known for its manufacturing prowess
and its ability to export its products around the world, but the bulk of
its trade occurs within Europe, particularly with its immediate neighbors.
About 60 percent of Germany’s exports go to other EU countries.
Within Europe, there are also significant variations: Germany
represents a particularly high share of Austria, Switzerland, the Czech
Republic, and Hungary’s overall imports. (See “German Exports”
below.) Those countries are close to Germany not only geographically and linguistically, but also historically:
Apart from Switzerland,
these countries, along with Germany,
constituted the Holy Roman
Empire circa 1500.

Similar patterns are evident
for other kinds of international
interactions. Sixty percent of
German banks’ foreign lending
is to the rest of Europe—which
also accounts for 70 to 85 percent
of Germany’s foreign direct investment,
portfolio equity holdings,
international phone calls,
and international tourist arrivals.
There are good reasons why
the Eurozone crisis is, despite its
potential global ramifications,
mostly being handled in Europe.

Europe is more integrated
than most continents, but similar
patterns exist in other parts of
the world. If we look at the world
as a whole, 53 percent of merchandise trade, 52 percent of foreign direct
investment, 51 percent of international telephone calls, and 49
percent of international migration all take place within rather than
between roughly continent-sized regions¹² The high average level of
regionalization suggests that many issues that require international
coordination might be best addressed at the regional rather than the
global level. And geography isn’t the only possible basis for distinguishing
between the near abroad and the far abroad. Others include cultural
ties, political alignment, and degree of economic development.

The Distance-Directedness Principle

The distance-directedness principle also relies on the law of distance,
but shifts the focus from devising the global problem-solving agenda
to shedding light on what the actors involved in it should do. The
most interesting research in this area are the studies that use “gravity”
models to investigate the factors underlying the law of distance,
particularly concerning trade. Gravity models in international economics
link interactions between countries to the product of their
economic masses, divided by some composite measure of distance.
Gravity models not only help us understand why, for instance, the
US-Canadian trading relationship is the largest in the world; they also
explain, in a statistical sense, two-thirds or more of all the variation
in bilateral trade intensities between all possible pairs of countries.

Distance, however, is not simply measured in miles. For example,
the geographical distance between the United States and England may
be substantial, but the two countries’ shared linguistic, cultural, and
historical heritage supplies important bridges that narrow the gap. The
CAGE Distance Framework posits that “distance” includes multiple
dimensions—cultural, administrative (or political), geographic, and
economic (CAGE). And whereas there are many differences between
countries, the seven variables highlighted in red in the table explain
70 to 90 percent of the variation in country-to-country flows of trade,
capital, people, and information.¹³ (See “CAGE Distance Framework” below.) To illustrate the usefulness of the CAGE Distance Framework,
consider some of the questions that businesses have found it helpful
in answering—many of which can be adapted to the social sector.

Where? | Where a business originates affects what countries it should
expand to—and that answer usually isn’t “everywhere.” In 2004, of
all US companies that had foreign operations, the largest fraction operated
in just one foreign country, the median number in two, and 95
percent in fewer than two dozen. As fully global action is unlikely to be
warranted in the short run, do social-sector initiatives take adequate
account of where they are from (for such things as administration
and donors) and of relevant experience sets in deciding where to go
next? Take, for example, an issue facing Worldreader.org, a nonprofit
that aims to bring e-books to African schoolchildren: Which African
market(s) should it focus on first? Its founders, a Briton and an American
then based in Barcelona, chose Ghana because Anglophone Africa
seemed the most natural target, Ghana’s public administration was
reputed to be relatively clean and efficient, and time-zone proximity
to Barcelona would likely simplify coordination.

What? | Businesses also seem more inclined to recognize that their
strategies in the countries in which they operate must respond in
some way to international differences. That said, they often fail to
consider the full range of strategy levers for dealing with the differences
that matter the most in their industries: most broadly, using
multiple levers and sub-levers of adaptation to adjust to differences;
aggregating across countries to (partially) overcome differences;
and arbitraging to exploit (selected) differences. Consider some
analogues for social sector initiatives: Does a family-planning initiative
targeting poor, strife-torn, traditional societies, which often
have high gender inequality and fertility rates, make adequate allowance
for effective approaches in male-dominated societies? Can the Grameen Foundation, the hugely successful pioneer of microlending
in Bangladesh, identify important common social needs that
cut across or aggregate segments in poor countries that it can effectively
help meet? Some degree of confidence that it can do so
should underpin its expansion into nearly three dozen additional
countries. And arbitrage or targeting differences along selected
dimensions raises important issues ranging from building low-cost
but adequate delivery structures for very-low-income countries to
questions about the focus of social-sector initiatives on extreme
deprivation, as opposed to on some other area for improvement.

How? | Some businesses also understand that their ability to address
cross-country differences depends not only on the objective
distances to be traversed, but also on their internal capabilities for
dealing with them. Businesses and social enterprises should consider
the following questions before expanding: Do the critical people in
your organization understand how global we actually are, or have they
fallen prey to globaloney? Do they have a framework for understanding
the underlying differences between countries—and differences in
differences—that underlie limited levels of cross-border integration?
Are they housed in one location or dominated by one nationality? Are
they involved in cross-border projects and networks, and, ideally,
have they ever been rotated abroad? Are they prepared to engage in
the debate about the social consequences of globalization in general
and your organization’s particular involvement in it?

The Distinctive-Competence Principle

The distinctive-competence principle extends the where, what,
and how questions, to ask whether a particular social enterprise is
best positioned to pursue a particular global problem-solving opportunity—or would the cause be served better by joining up with
an existing organization or network, or
letting some other organization pursue
it? The distinctive-competence principle
emphasizes that individuals or organizations
that are considering entering or
expanding in the social sector need to ask
themselves whether their involvement
would lead to creating significantly more
total value than would happen otherwise.
The corollary is that organizations
should ideally account for the opportunity
costs of donors’ resources, even if
those resources are contributed free.

Most social enterprises do not measure
their performance by undertaking
this sort of cost-benefit analysis. But
the approach does merit more attention.
Industrial organization economics
indicates that at least in the absence of
product differentiation, there is a tendency
for an excessive number of companies
to enter a market simply to take
business away from existing companies
without growing the market or providing
any other particular benefit to society.¹⁴
These effects might be aggravated in the social sector by “messianic complexes” that could lead to even more
entrants than in the for-profit benchmark.¹⁵ The good news is that
in the social sector, it seems reasonable (or, at least, more reasonable
than in the private sector) to ask players to internalize the social costs
of their entry or expansion. Another implication of this line of reasoning
is that initiatives that add to variety, whether in means or ends,
are generally more deserving of grace than initiatives that simply pile
additional resources onto established, relatively well-funded efforts.

To be a bit less stringent and a bit more practical, a social enterprise
might not be the best in the world at what it does or aims to
do, but it does have to be—or have plans to become—pretty good
in the relevant respects. Without those plans, the adage by Kenneth
Andrews, who wrote the classic text on business strategy, applies:
“Opportunism without competence is a path to fairyland.”¹⁶

To better understand these ideas, consider again the example of
Worldreader.org. Its two founders focused their nonprofit on education
because they had backgrounds in the field, and on e-books because one
had connections in high-tech. This knowledge and these connections
increased the odds of being able to do something special within the
zone of distinctive-competence rather than outside it. But they also
set up a clear evaluation mechanism by hiring MIT Professor Esther
Duflo to help design and analyze their first field trials. And because
Worldreader.org was designed to be an operational and delivery network,
it clearly did require the development of some significant organizational
capabilities, as well as a structure to house them in, rather
than an attempt to “organize without an organization.”

The De-Biasing Principle

The final principle—de-biasing—shifts the focus from governments,
NGOs, and businesses to individuals. It recognizes that distrust of
foreigners is rampant, reducing cross-border interactions and imposing
constraints on global problem solving. To counter this bias it is
important to build cross-border trust. To figure out what might be
done in this regard, it is best to start with some data—in this case,
concerning the extent to which citizens of various European countries
reported trusting their co-citizens and others.

Close to 50 percent of respondents to the 1996 “Eurobarometer”
survey reported trusting their fellow citizens “a lot,” but only 20
percent reported trusting citizens of the other 16 European Union
countries “a lot,” and just over 10 percent reported trusting citizens
of other countries “a lot.” There is some variation by country (Italians
report trusting the Swiss more than they trust other Italians), but on
average, nationals of EU countries express “a lot” of trust twice as
often in co-nationals as in nationals of other “nearby” EU countries,
and four times as often compared to nationals of countries that are
farther away. These data from the EU are indicative of what researchers
have found in other parts of the world. Scholars have concluded
that trust falls as the populations of any two countries grow more
different in their languages, religions, genes, body types, geographic
distance, and incomes, and if they have a more extensive history of
wars.¹⁷ This differential distrust of foreigners is estimated to have big
effects. Statistical studies suggest that moving from lower to higher
levels of bilateral trust can increase trade, direct investment, portfolio
investment, and venture capital investment by 100 percent or more,
even after controlling for other characteristics of the two countries.¹⁸

Fear of foreigners, particularly the ones who are most “foreign,” is compounded by the constraints that cross-cultural mistrust imposes
on attempts to reduce other kinds of barriers to international flows.
Consider some additional examples from Western Europe—a region
where nationalism has recently been more or less held in check, where
countries have pursued formal administrative integration to an extent
unparalleled in other regions, and where education levels are generally
high. Despite this context, cultural fears have loomed very large as
economic pressures have mounted. Much of the surging protectionist
and, especially, anti-immigrant sentiment has not just nationalistic
but cultural roots. The economic case for large-scale immigration
into Europe is clear; most of the fears around immigrants have to
do with cultural fears more than ostensibly economic dimensions.

In figuring out how to build trust, it is also useful to note that much
cross-cultural mistrust seems to be rooted in cultural insecurities. A
survey of 47 countries around the world indicates a strong positive
correlation between perceiving one’s own culture to be superior and
perceiving it to need protection. The list is headed by India, where 93
percent of respondents agreed that their culture was superior and 92
percent agreed that it needed to be protected. India is followed by Indonesia,
Tanzania, and Bangladesh. In contrast, the bottom of the list
is occupied by Sweden, where only 21 percent of respondents agreed
that their culture was superior and 29 percent that it needed protection.
Interestingly, Swedes are highly trusted as well as trusting, illustrating
a more general pattern across the countries included in both
surveys: Countries that feel the least superior and defensive about
their own cultures also tend to be the most trusting—and trusted.

In keeping with the distance-directedness principle, the challenge
of building cross-border trust is likely to be different in, say,
the Netherlands and Nepal, not the least because the former is already
more than one hundred times as connected with the rest of
the world than is the latter. But both countries do present challenges.
Think of the success in the Netherlands, traditionally a haven of
tolerance, of Geert Wilders’s wildly misnamed Freedom Party, with
its anti-immigrant and now Europhobic posturing.

Research on the determinants of cultural chauvinism and related
fears does identify some apparent commonalities across countries—
and some broad paths forward. Higher education levels in a country
cause levels of nationalism and suspicion of outsiders to decrease.
The extent to which an individual participates in the network of
global economic, social, and cultural relations and of inclusive social
identification with the world community seems important. Traveling
and living abroad seems to broaden individuals’ perspectives.
And scholars have found that security of property rights and the
rule of law are prerequisites for trust to emerge, rather than what
they often seem: vital substitutes for trust.

On the basis of these findings, several concrete steps for building
trust and reducing excess cultural fear can be undertaken. These
steps include more education; monitoring of negativism in the media
and in political discourse; encouraging more interpersonal contacts
across cultures and ensuring that they are as pleasant as possible;
and building a cosmopolitan global social identity. One might also
try to build cross-cultural understanding between countries in which
economic potential exists, but political and cultural relationships
are strained (such as India and Pakistan or Israel and Palestine); to
prioritize support for the rule of law; and to encourage the private
sector to become involved in building bridges between cultures.

Implications for Global Problem-Solving Leaders

Focus the agenda for global problem solving. | The devolution and distance-sensitivity principles offer systematic advice on how to set—and,
in particular, limit—the agenda for global problem solving. Individuals
and organizations should analyze the extent of globalization and the
distance-sensitivity of the problems they wish to address. Calculate
the percentage of the relevant activity that takes place domestically
versus internationally and the percentage of the international component
that crosses regional boundaries. Even if a similar problem
appears in many countries, if it requires little coordination across
borders, most of the effort expended toward solving it should be local,
national, or regional, rather than global. Limiting truly global efforts
to the problems that really demand them can help us make better
use of our still very limited bandwidth for worldwide cooperation.

Select and structure initiatives so as to add value. | The distance-directedness
and distinctive-competence principles look at some of
the same observations about limited globalization and considerable
distance-sensitivity from the perspective of the organizational actors
involved in global problem solving. Distance-directedness supplies
guidance about the where, what, and how of an organization’s pursuit
of its mission across borders, and distinctive-competence about the
more basic existential question of whether it is a good instrument
for that pursuit. A starting point for operationalizing these two
principles is to use the CAGE Distance Framework to understand
that where you are coming from affects where you might want to
try to contribute and what kinds of adaptation to cross-country differences
might be required. Having applied the framework to get a
more realistic sense of the border-crossing and distance-bridging
challenges your effort faces, ask whether your organization or network
is really the right one to pursue a particular opportunity—or
whether it is better pursued through other means.

Work on improving people’s attitudes towards globalization. | The
de-biasing principle goes even more micro, emphasizing that individuals’
attitudes toward globalization and foreigners in particular
constrain both the global agenda and what organizational actors
can hope to accomplish within it. Somewhere within global problem
solving we must find room to consider educational initiatives that
aim to shape people’s attitudes—by connecting them better with the
systematic evidence about the extent, patterns, and consequences
of globalization, as well as with each other.

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Categories: Social Innovation

Tags: Economic, global warming, globalization