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At the California high school I attended, “Global Studies” was a course that every student had to take during their freshman year. The textbook of choice was, perhaps unsurprisingly for a public school, a bit dated, with that early 2000s beige look and feel that many readers might not find too difficult to picture.

Given the age of the material, its concluding chapter — which textbooks usually reserve to touch on future developments within their discipline of focus — predictably discussed the one word that was on many a pundit’s mind around the turn of the millennium: globalization. Indeed, the narrative that humanity was moving along a yellow brick road toward transcending national borders not only defined my early childhood, and potentially those of my peers, but was also found by one cross-cultural study to be a positive sentiment widely shared by members of Generation Z.

In the face of such internationalist momentum, especially among youth, it may seem ironic that the past ten years have arguably seen some of the most intense pushback toward the idea of worldwide integration. Whether one points to the proliferation of populist politicians casting doubt on the legitimacy of multilateralism, tit-for-tat escalations of tariffs and other barriers on free trade, or Covid-19 and the general havoc on global integration it has wrought, it is clear that globalization has shed some of its infant luster.

And yes, global integration has never been all peaches and cream, and legitimate concerns about the manner in which it has transpired abound. Multinational conglomerates have too often amassed inordinate influence in many countries, sometimes to the point of being capable of threatening or even engaging in regime change. Worries that unfettered trade can destroy both local economic and environmental ecosystems are also perfectly valid and deserve appropriate attention. These are all intellectually honest reasons to be skeptical of how globalization has taken shape.

However, one particular contention made in opposition to global integration has seen an explosion in popularity over the past decade — one that stems more from economic hypernationalism and chauvinism than reason. It is what I refer to as the “romantic” trope: the notion that there existed a time when things were decisively not globalized, and everything was much, much better. We have seen examples of such rhetoric play out in the United States, where many have mythologized historical periods like the 1950s to the point of absurdity.

This sort of nostalgia for some glorified past is certainly not a thematically novel one. After all, it has long been an endearing motif for artists, one that is incidentally represented in the collections of the Harvard Art Museums. For instance, the astute patron can find on its second floor Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres’ famous “The Golden Age,” painted in 1862 at the height of a Neoclassicist revival in Europe that focused on contrasting the purity of antiquity with the degeneracy of the present.

Even so, there are far more works at the museum that exemplify how, throughout history, global integration has almost always been the norm rather than the exception. Take, for example, the multitude of eighth-century Buddha figurines on its first floor that reveal an eclectic mix of Greek, South Asian, and Chinese influences; or entertain the museum’s comprehensive collection, also on the first floor, of over forty examples of eighteenth-century “Meissen porcelain,” the first commercially successful porcelain produced in Europe after centuries of attempting to imitate the originally Chinese craft.

The origin stories of Greek Buddhas and Meissen china, along with countless other historical anecdotes, help demonstrate how humanity has been guided by a global perspective since the dawn of civilization. They highlight the fact that intercultural exchange lies at the heart of what it means to be human — and that even when the transfer of goods and ideas is slowed down by mandate or conflict, like gas particles in the face of an impossibly fine mesh, their diffusion simply morphs into effusion, their speed of movement never reaching absolute zero.

Global integration can be culled, and free trade can be suppressed, but if history is any guide, the world will never stop being global.

And for the better. As studies have generally shown, nothing beats greater global connectivity in enhancing aggregate prosperity, as long as the right national and supranational frameworks are in place to limit exploitation and excess. Though the annals of the 2010s will now bear the indelible marks of extreme nationalism, let us dedicate this decade to promoting a renewed global vision for the future, one that is not only ambitious in nature but inclusive and equitable in scope as well.

Alexander Junxiang Chen ’24 is a Neuroscience and Chemistry concentrator in Quincy House. His column “Artifactual” appears on Thursdays.