‘Unlike knowledge, wisdom does not age”[1] claims Bauman in the first page of his book Liquid Times : Living in the Age of Uncertainty . And indeed, while knowledge is subjected to matters of time and space, wisdom appears to be transcendent. Throughout this collection of essays, he attempts to draw an analysis of the unique conditions of our modern times, emphasizing how capitalist globalization has drastically altered some of the basic mechanisms of our society. One of the main points he makes is that :
‘On a planet open to the free circulation of capital and commodities , whatever happens in one place has a bearing on how people in all other places live, hope or expect to live. Nothing can be credibly assumed to stay in a material ‘outside’. Nothing is truly , or can remain for long, indifferent to anything else—untouched and untouching. No well being of one place is innocent of the misery of the other.’[2]
Yet, we stand more alienated than ever. For instance, it is no secret that the fast fashion complex exploits its workers ad nauseam, as well as its mode of production is tremendously detrimental for the environment, but from a young age we are taught to detach from such realities. As well, it is a fact that the cause of poverty in the Global South directly derives from colonisation yet we pretend it is its natural state. Bauman brings up the idea of a negative globalization :
‘If the idea of an ‘open society’ originally stood for the self-determination of a free society cherishing its openness , it now brings to most minds the terrifying experience of heteronomous, hapless and vulnerable population confronted with, and possibly overwhelmed by forces it neither controls nor fully understands; a population horrified by its own undefendability and obsessed with the tightness of its frontiers and the security of the individuals living inside them—while it is precisely that impermeability of its borders that elude its grasp and seem bound to remain elusive as long as the planet is subjected to solely negative globalization.’[3]
Having assimilated living in a permanent state of fear, as a society we have become obsessed with borders, tightness and binaries as a away of establishing a faux sense of security. In this line Bauman remarks the way in which humans are disposed, encapsulating one of the arguments on which I’m most interested about in regards to my project :
‘Possibly the most fatal result of modernity’s global triumph , is the acute victory of ‘human waste’ disposal industry, as each new outpost conquered by capitalist markets adds new thousands or millions to the mass of men and women already deprived of their lands, workshops and communal safety nets.’[4]
As a result of mass capitalism, people have been snatched from their communities and safe spaces. In this sense, I believe that Gen Z openly attempts to reclaim the advantages of globalization while defying any forms of systematic abuse or alienation. There is a clear intentionality towards redeeming ourselves from that fear.
On the other hand, the City becomes, more than ever before, a transactional space. Bauman refers to this phenomenon as ‘the plight of the global poor these days, evicted from their land and forced to seek survival in the fast swelling slums of the nearest megalopolis’[5]. It is not only that people are moving from the rural to the urban, as is often encountered in historical recounts, but now entire populations are moving between countries and continents and continents in order to fulfil the demands of the mass markets. To give an example, in Latin America are many the moms and dads (and even grandparents) who travel all the way to Europe or the US , leaving their children and their careers behind , to work under the hostile conditions of the so called “First World”. Working class and diaspora communities continue to grow in the city, and as response ‘resourceful residents buy into separate areas of their choice, also ghetto-like, and ban all others from settling there; in addition, they do whatever they can to disconnect their own lifeworld from the lifeworlds of the rest of the city’s inhabitants’[6]. The neighbourhood of Cuatro Caminos is a predominantly Dominican neighbourhood in Madrid, as Elephant & Castle is home to the Latin American diaspora in London (specially Colombian). The differences in infrastructure in comparison to other wealthier neighbourhoods in these two cities is more than obvious. As well, these areas the aesthetic traditions of its inhabitants, creating new visual cultures as a result. This aesthetic amalgamation establishes an undisclosed sense of ownership which, although possibly ephemeral, works as a silent rebellion against the circumstances. Because no matter how many times we are screamed at “vuélvete a tu pais”[7], we will still wear our golden crucifixes and shiny nails, we will still eat our pasta con platanito and there will always be someone dancing to Bachata on a Wednesday afternoon in Cuatro Caminos.
[1] Zygmunt Bauman , ‘Liquid Times: Living in an Age of Uncertainty’, (Polity Books, 2007), p.5
[2] Bauman , p.6
[3] Bauman, p.7
[4] Bauman, p.28.
[5] Bauman, p.28
[6] Bauman, p.73
[7] “Go back to your country”