
For decades, globalization was sold as the future. It promised efficiency, economic growth, and a world so interconnected that national borders would feel like mere lines on a map. Corporations and policymakers alike assured us that a global economy would lift all boats, spreading prosperity across continents.
Instead, what we got was a fragile system that buckles under the slightest strain. Supply chains, optimized for profit rather than resilience, collapse when a single factory in China shuts down. Nations once proud of their industrial capabilities have become dependent on distant countries for basic necessities. Small businesses have been gutted by multinational giants that extract wealth from communities while giving little back. Meanwhile, cities—once vibrant centers of local culture—have become dominated by chain stores, soulless office parks, and sprawling suburbs designed for cars rather than people.
The dream of globalization has turned out to be a nightmare of disconnection.
This is why the idea of the 15-minute city deserves serious attention. At its core, the concept is simple: everything you need—work, groceries, healthcare, schools, and leisure—should be within a 15-minute walk or bike ride from your home. Instead of endless commutes and reliance on global supply chains, communities would become more self-sufficient. Local businesses would thrive. People would regain time that was once lost to traffic and long-distance shopping trips. And perhaps most importantly, cities would once again feel like places designed for human beings rather than automobiles and corporations.
Critics argue that this vision is too idealistic. Some claim it would limit personal freedom or require heavy-handed urban planning. But the truth is, we’ve already built cities that restrict freedom—the freedom to live without a car, the freedom to buy from a local shop instead of a global chain, the freedom to spend time with family instead of sitting in traffic. A well-designed 15-minute city isn’t about restriction; it’s about restoring choice.
That doesn’t mean abandoning everything globalization has given us. The internet, for example, has made global knowledge and communication instantly accessible. Medical advances and scientific collaboration benefit from an international exchange of ideas. A hybrid approach—one that maintains global connectivity while strengthening local economies—may be the answer.
Instead of an all-or-nothing approach, we could rethink globalization in a way that works for ordinary people rather than just corporations. Manufacturing and production could be partially re-localized, reducing dependence on distant supply chains while still allowing for international trade. Small businesses could be given advantages over multinational corporations, ensuring that wealth stays in communities instead of being siphoned off to faraway boardrooms. Technology could be leveraged to create local networks of exchange, allowing people to trade goods and services within their communities rather than relying on global logistics giants.
The failure of globalization doesn’t mean we should return to an isolated past. But it does mean we should reconsider how we structure our lives and economies. A world built on local participation, where communities take responsibility for their own well-being while still engaging with the larger world, is not only possible—it may be the only way forward.
If the 20th century was about the pursuit of global expansion, the 21st must be about finding balance.
Join us in making the world a better place – you’ll be glad that you did. Cheers friends.