Category Archives: Chapter 8

Globalisation as a disjunctive series of ‘scapes’

It is common to speak of globalization as a question of increased homo- or heterogeneity. Or as a mix of the two – so-called glocalization. This is the lens we adopted in Strategizing Communication as we believe it offers a good starting point for talking about strategic communication as a process of designing messages that can be read, interpreted and repurposed by different audiences. However, globalization is not just a mix of two disparate trends; rather, that view is an analytical simplification that may serve practical purposes, but does not tell the full story of how technological and economic developments as well as political, social and cultural forces shape and are shaped by globalization. The Indian-American professor of Media, Culture and Communication Arjun Appadurai offers a lens that may serve to understand the complexity of these dynamics better: that of seeing globalization as a disjunctive series of ‘scapes’.

Appadurai (1990) begins his conceptualization from the same idea of globalization as driven by tensions between homogenization and heterogenization, but goes on to suggest that the landscape of globalization cannot be fully mapped on this one spectrum, but instead consists of five distinct dimensions: ethnoscapes, technoscapes, finanscapes, mediascapes and ideoscapes. Note the plural. Each scape is actually a multitude of perspectives and the five can be combined in many different ways to form ‘imagined worlds’ – discrete perspectives of various actors: “nation-states, multinationals, diasporic communities, as well as sub-national groupings and movements (whether religious, political or economic). Indeed, the individual is the last locus of this perspectival set of landscapes…” (Appadurai, 1990, p. 296). Before continuing this line of reasoning, however, let us define the five scapes.

Ethnoscapes refer to the flows of people across the planet; the ways in which people move around – whether as refugees, migrants or tourists, to name but a few of the groups that today travel the planet. The ethnoscape is constantly shifting, rearranging bonds of kindship, feelings of belonging. “The warp of stability”, as Appadurai calls it, “is everywhere shot through with the woof of human motion, as more persons and groups deal with the realities of having to move, or the fantasies of wanting to move” (p. 297). The technoscape is “the global configuration of technology” (p. 298), the way in which various technologies are (unequally) distributed across the globe, but also provide the infrastructure for global connections and, further, may shift quickly across geographical, economic and other boundaries. Finanscapes denote the flows and figurations of global capital; the highly volatile and increasingly complicated mesh of financial transactions that seemingly exists apart from the realm of the so-called productive economy (the one in which some people produce, say, coffee so that other people can consume it) yet feeds off it (financialization begins with speculation in developments of the price of a good – say, coffee) and influences it profoundly (during the recent financial crisis some traders surely had to cut down on their consumption of luxury coffee, but it was people like the café owners and coffee farmers who had to close their businesses and leave their homes).

The two last scapes are built upon the first three. However, as ethnoscapes, technoscapes and finanscapes are both co-constitutive (they change in relation to each other) and disjunctive (they do not necessarily develop in similar direction and at similar speeds), they do not form a stable basis for the construction of mediascapes and ideoscapes. Rather, we are dealing with an ever shifting and shaking framework for the construction of images. In mediascapes images are distributed through the available information technologies in ever more complex ways to ever more diverse audiences. “What this means is that many audiences throughout the world experience the media themselves as a complicated and interconnected repertoire of print, celluloid, electronic screens, and billboards. The lines between the ‘realistic’ and the fictional landscapes they see are blurred…” (p. 299). Whereas mediascapes typically deal in ‘small stories’, ideoscapes build ‘grand narratives’; “…they are often directly political and frequently have to do with the ideologies of states and the counter ideologies of movements explicitly oriented to capturing state power or a piece of it” (p. 299).

It follows from the definitions of the five scapes and their interrelations that there can be no general theory of how the scapes are related. Instead, Appadurai offers us a terminology for exploring the relations between the five scapes in particular contexts. As an example, let us briefly apply the lens of scapes to the referendum on EU membership that was held in the UK on the 23rd of June, 2016. First, we can note how the ethno-, techno- and finanscapes of the UK in relation to the EU both worked with and against each other in the pre-referendum debate. The UK has, since its entry into the European Community in 1973, become increasingly technologically and financially integrated with the rest of Europe, yet the City of London has kept its distinct role as a global financial hub. Thus, it was possible to question whether and how exit from the EU would affect the UK economically. As for the ethnoscape, the free movement of labour within the EU has both changed the terms of immigration to the UK from European and other countries, setting the scene for a new and much more hostile tone in the UK’s immigration debate. No longer obligated to newly arrived people by the ties of a colonial past, the question of how to stop the constant inflow of people became a legitimate and popular one. Obviously there are many more factors and facets involved, but we can nevertheless see the contours of how this particular – and particularly strained – configuration created the basis for an ideoscape of national sovereignty, which was re-imagined in the popularized versions of protectionism and isolationalism in the UK’s mediascape. A mediascape that – even if not completely independent from European media – continues to be dominated by national resources and nationalistic narratives. The result: 52% voted leave and 48% remain. How Brexit will reconfigure the UK’s, the EU’s and the global scapes in relation to each other remains to be seen.

The demise and prevalence of national culture

If you have read Strategizing Communication, you will know that we do not make much of national culture. Skirting traditional takes on intercultural communication in which one’s cultural identity is assumed to be defined by the imprint on one’s passport, we prefer an approach in which nationality is never the only and rarely the most important determinant of the collective identity of a target group. Now, you may agree with this approach. After all, your everyday routines are likely to constantly transcend national boundaries (your toothpaste and your shampoo are probably manufactured by some multinational corporation; your milk may be locally produced, but your coffee is most likely not; your phone is perhaps designed in the US or maybe in South Korea, but it is almost certainly assembled in China). Further, the choices you face during the course of a day do not seem to have much to do with a single nationality either (should it be pizza or perhaps sushi tonight? Was the combination of Nike sneakers and Armani shirt really a good sartorial choice? Is Beyoncé or Adele the better singer?). But wait, such examples are extremely shallow (there’s more to you than your brand of phone or your choice in music, right?) and awfully privileged (who can afford an Armani shirt anyway?). And they ignore the prevalence of nationality in deeper processes of socialization as well as life-choices that really matter (most of us got our primary education in public schools, which tend to be rather nation-centric institutions, and although international marriages may be more and more common, they are still in minority; the rise in cross-border marriages is a trend to be noted rather than a well-established fact).

Thus, we may scorn the idea that we as individuals are bound to and/or identified by national culture, but the socio-political bounds of the nation-state nevertheless seem to prevail. And this prevalence has cultural over- and undertones, relating to the widespread resurgence of nationalism. Thus, nationalist parties are – and have been for some time now – on the rise across Europe, and these parties clearly connect more with a culturally defined nation than with a politically defined state, often aligning national belonging with cultural heritage as well as religious belief and ethnicity.

As an example, a 2016 campaign by the Danish People’s Party confined ‘our Denmark’ and the wish to safeguard it to one ethnic identity with clear socio-cultural implications. Although this campaign lent itself nicely to various forms of repurposing and recirculation showing alternative opinions and images as to what ‘our Denmark’ might be, it cannot be neglected that it pinpoints the position of a party that won 21.1% of the votes in the most recent parliamentary election (held on June 18th, 2015).


The reports of the death of national culture, then, are greatly exaggerated. Or, perhaps more accurately, national culture understood in substantial terms (as the actual content of all its members’ daily lives; their norms, values, traditions, practices, etc.) has by all accounts disappeared, but a socio-political imaginary has forcefully imposed itself in its place.

socialmedia_kvadra_1027891yThis imaginary may have little to do with the actual lives of the people who feel drawn to it; it may be an ideological construct rather than a material fact. Yet it has very real effects – as, for instance, witnessed by the formation and rising popularity of Alternative for Germany (formed in 2013, this nationalist-conservative party gained 12,6% of the votes in the latest state elections, held in March, 2016), the looming Brexit (following the leave vote in the referendum of June, 2016) and the prospect of Donald Trump becoming the next president of the US (at the elections to be held on November 8th, 2016). For strategic communicators, this does not mean that we can return to an understanding that ‘Germans are like this’, ‘Brits like that’, ‘Americans something else altogether’ and adapt our communication accordingly, but it does mean that national culture – particularly, in its ideological guise – continues to be a factor to be reckoned with.


By Andrew DJ Shield

Imagine that you’re a black woman who wants to work for a major U.S. company with hundreds of employees. But you notice something strange: the company doesn’t seem to hire black women. They’re just not there. Seems like an obvious case of discrimination, right?

This was basically the situation at General Motors (GM) in 1976, when a group of black women sued the company for discriminatory hiring practices. But they lost the case. After all, the court found that GM hired plenty of women, so there was no evidence of sexism. (It didn’t matter that these were white women, did it?) And the court found that GM hired plenty of African-Americans, so there was no evidence of racism. (It didn’t matter that these were all men, did it?) In short, the court decided that “black women” were not a unique group that needed protection.

Thirteen years later, in 1989, lawyer and law professor Kimberlé Crenshaw, still grappling with the topic of discrimination across multiple axes (race, sex), introduced the term “intersectionality”. The 1976 GM court case was central to her argument, as were the works in a 1981 anthology (by black feminist authors) entitled All the Women Are White; All the Blacks Are Men, But Some of Us are Brave. Crenshaw was not the first to discuss discrimination across multiple axes: throughout the 1980s, black feminists—most notably in the U.S., but also in the U.K. and the Netherlands—addressed racism in the (predominantly white) feminist movement, and sexism within the (predominantly male) civil rights movement. So why, in 1989, was it still so hard for so many people to understand that black women—and others who experienced discrimination on multiple axes—faced unique obstacles? Intersectionality was there to help.

The concept of intersectionality relates to how we talk about multiple identities (e.g. black, female) that operate within multiple systems of power and oppression (e.g. racism, sexism). Beyond sex and race, the term “intersectionality” has been expanded to include issues related to class, age, religion, migration status, physical (dis)ability, body type/size, mental health, sexual orientation, (trans)gender identity, educational background, ethnic (minority) background, language skills, and much more.


The most common error that people make when talking about intersectionality is to describe discrimination or oppression as additive: 1+1=2. In other words, they might talk about the discrimination that black women have faced in the U.S. as a matter of “double jeopardy” of sexism + racism. But discrimination can also be synergistic: 1+1=3. In the case of GM, for instance, the black women were even more discriminated against than just sex and race put together.

How individuals experience their identity (e.g. sexual orientation, age, socioeconomic class) is always context-specific, as are the related systems of oppression (e.g. heterosexism/homophobia, ageism, class inequality). These identities and relations of power don’t merely operate differently at the state-level, but also at the organizational level, or even within specific subcultures. In order to understand the ways a group might be marginalized in a specific context, one can begin by looking at the political discussions, media representations, cultural norms, laws, social movements, and histories of that specific state, organization, or subculture.

For those studying strategic communication, intersectionality can be a useful concept when talking about target audiences. If an organization’s key demographic is, say, “young people,” how does the outward communication reflect this? Do the organization’s communications include all young people, or are some groups invisible, perhaps even excluded? Does “young people” in fact refer to the much more specific segment of affluent, white, suburban youth? And if so, who might suffer as others are privileged? What different strategies might an organization use to reach out to marginalized groups of young people?