By: Bríon Ó Conchubhair

In a rural Vietnamese town, one might buy a Venti latte from Starbucks. In Drumcliffe, Co. Sligo, king prawn satay is only one click away. The spread and proliferation of information, resources, population, and medicines across the globe is increasing at a rapid rate. Even in the face of the Covid-19 pandemic that grounded international travel and halted global trade, a study jointly undertaken by the NYU Stern School of Business and the shipping company DHL found that, by 2024, globalisation had returned to an all-time peak. 

Despite its long history as a realised phenomenon, globalisation remains divisive; it is impossible to claim that it is entirely a positive or negative force, yet people do take a side. Multinational organisations, such as the European Parliament and the International Monetary Fund, maintain  stances that encourage the acceleration of ‘global growth’. In many regards, there are immense benefits to increasing global connectivity, including improved medicines and access to health care, more variety and lower costs of goods, and “higher” standards of living. However, are medically prolonged lifespans and the automation of our daily lives unquestionably improvements to existence as a whole? Is it only our own hominid wellbeing that is deserving of nursing or longevity and care?

It is clear that the environment and our natural world are losing out in our increasingly globalised world . There are no quality-of-life improvements felt by a flamboyance of flamingos when clean drinking water is pumped from Lake Naivasha, nor are there enhancements to the mental wellbeing of a solitary platypus when underground ethernet cables are linked. The environmental impacts of globalisation are nearly impossible to quantify given that they encompass an acceleration of almost every facet of environmental decline through increased transportation of goods, heightened greenhouse gas emissions and interestingly, economic specialization. These points are fairly well understood by many of us, in spite of our lack of agency to make any impactful change to the ongoing devastation our planet endures at the hands of our ever-expanding anthropogenic empire. 

 However, there remains an aspect of the impact of globalisation on nature  that receives much less critical understanding or attention. As we connect further and faster via  technology, we may well lose contact with what is right under our noses. 

How many species can you distinguish in a chorus of birdsong in the morning? How many trees can you identify based on leaves or bark? Odds are if you are reading this article, more than most, but even as someone who has dedicated four years of their lives to the study of the natural world I don’t know nearly enough. What then can be said for your average commuter on their way to work? A separation seems to have emerged  between ourselves and the world which we inhabit. 

To exemplify, it has been observed that when Starlink connects Indigenous peoples to the revealingly named World Wide Web, there is a subsequent decline in traditional practices both cultural, through dance and song, and in terms of survival, specifically hunting methods. Publications such as The New York Times remarked extensively upon the Marubo people of the Amazon basin who became “addicted to porn” and “lazy” following the advent of the internet. Many of these issues were later debunked or tempered. However, we need not look so far afield to see this bastardization of culture through globalisation.

Here in Ireland, we have a rich history of festivals and practices tied to the land and the changing of the seasons. St. Patrick’s Day had its origins in the pagan festival of Ostara, held on the spring equinox to celebrate renewal, rebirth and the balance of both day and night. I would venture to guess though that this is not what most would associate St. Patrick’s Day with today. Through invasions by the Vikings and the English alongside  the assimilation of the holiday by the United States, St. Patrick’s Day has lost all connection to the seasons and cycles of natural life. The same can be said for St. Brigid’s Day, Samhain, and many other traditional celebrations that are rooted in seasonal change and natural phenomena, having been lost to abstract religious, cultural and commercial interests, and  reduced to days off work and hollowed out symbols.

Ironically, as we aim to improve our connection to the world at large, we seem to be falling more and more into a spiral of disconnect, individualism, and dissonance. These traits are, in my eyes, potentially more damaging for the future of our natural spaces than the transport of goods or other economic activities. Once we begin to think of ourselves as individual actors, only looking out for our own kin, we begin to forget our place as small parts of a holistic system. How can we expect humanity to repair and replenish that which we have destroyed if we lose the traditions and rituals that connect us to the earth and what it provides.

In Ireland we have slowly begun to reclaim our traditional celebrations and people seem to be making an effort to return to their roots. This shift is a slow process and an esoteric one at that; looking forward, globalisation is only accelerating and now reaching even the most remote communities and environments. There is no return, but perhaps we can attempt to harness some of the power in this interconnectedness to counteract its negative effects; to help spread ideas and information that more meaningfully and sustainably connect us to each other and to the world around us. Think about nature, speak about nature, write about nature, and represent nature.