Thomas Friedman’s The World is Flat argues that globalisation has leveled the playing field, fostering connectivity and economic growth, while his Golden Arches Theory suggests that economic interdependence reduces conflict, as countries integrated into global trade avoid war. Yet rising inequalities and conflicts, such as the Ukraine war, challenge these ideas, raising the question of whether globalisation has truly succeeded or failed. 

From Genghis Khan’s Silk Road to the spice routes and the Suez Canal, humanity has long sought to accelerate the movement of goods and capital, making globalisation the backdrop of the modern world. Our economic, political, and social realities in the twenty-first century are inseparable from the forces of free markets and information technology. However, this relatively recent innovation – set to become the defining political issue of the next century – has already corroded society, exposing the fractures in its promise of a united, prosperous world. Yet rather than an outright failure, globalisation is undergoing a transformation – its benefits endure, but its flaws demand urgent reform

.Globalisation is a multifaceted process perceived differently, depending on whether we belong to a poor country or a rich country. It truly took off with the Reagan-Thatcher Revolution of the 1980s that championed free markets, deregulation, and privatisation. This era significantly removed barriers to trade and investment, rising the polarisation between corporations expanding internationally  (their profits increasing to $2.54trn) and intensified wealth inequality, exploitation of workers, and environmental destruction. Even though, it’s estimated a billion people got out of poverty since the 1990s, it is unwise to discredit the poisonous nature of the accelerated capital movement. Free market bulls believed goods would be supplied at the cheapest point of the supply chain, barriers to trade would fall, and consumers would pay less and less. Now, they would undoubtedly reconsider their stance in light of globalisation's apparent dismantling.

 The first cracks in the edifice of it appeared during the 2007-2008 financial crisis, as everything ground to a halt. Job losses surged far beyond Wall Street, and the global share of trade relative to GDP dropped from 61% to 52%. Then came the COVID-19 pandemic, which spread across the world with a speed that outpaced even financial contagion, damaging global trade flows in a matter of days. Yet, just as the world was beginning to breathe the same air again, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine sent shockwaves through the global order, prompting harsh economic sanctions from Western Europe. The price of Russian gas skyrocketed, and suddenly, the strength of global trade seemed like a dangerous gamble, threatening to unravel the very foundations of interconnectedness. Globalisation, once seen as an unstoppable force, began to show its vulnerabilities

.As of 2025, the globalisation paradigm is fracturing under the weight of resurgent nationalism, economic bifurcation, and ideological realignment. Donald Trump’s return to political prominence and Brexit’s enduring consequences underscore a deepening skepticism toward interdependence, as nations retreat into protectionist strongholds. The once-multipolar system has crystallised into a duopoly, with the U.S. and China commanding a combined GDP larger than the next 33 economies, forcing smaller nations into strategic subjugation. Simultaneously, the rise of far-right populism – marked by the erosion of socialist policies and an individualist ethos – has catalysed democratic backsliding from Europe to Latin America. As global institutions falter and economic blocs fracture, the question is no longer whether globalisation has failed, but whether it is being reengineered into a new order – one defined not by collective prosperity, but by ideological fragmentation and hegemonic contestation

.However, contemporary globalisation has catalysed a transformative era of interconnectedness, underpinned by tangible advancements that underscore its profound impact. The proliferation of digital technologies, exemplified by platforms like Zoom, has dismantled geographical barriers, enabling real-time collaboration and financial inclusion for previously marginalised populations. For instance, mobile banking in Sub-Saharan Africa, spearheaded by services like M-Pesa, has empowered millions to access financial systems, fostering economic resilience and reducing poverty. Similarly, the global scientific community’s rapid development of mRNA vaccines during the COVID-19 pandemic highlights how cross-border cooperation can address existential threats with unparalleled efficiency. Beyond economics, globalisation has cultivated a shared cultural consciousness, as seen in the worldwide embrace of movements like #MeToo and climate activism, which transcend borders to advocate for universal human rights and environmental stewardship. Hence globalisation, arguably remains a dynamic force for progress, innovation, and collective human advancement

.Although we may benefit from these threads binding our world together, the welfare of humanity must take precedence. We are compelled to confront the fractures globalisation has wrought and seek remedies to cease the harm we so often inflict upon one another.  Mofid, inPromoting the Common Good: Bringing Economics and Theology Together Again, envisions a future for globalisation rooted in dialogue, interconnectedness, and a shared commitment to the common good. He argues that globalisation should foster an ‘ecumenical space’ where civilisations engage in meaningful conversations, and where economics, spirituality, and theology converge to create a more just and humane world.

This vision of globalisation is not one driven by profit for the powerful but by an economy of shared resources and communal well-being. Rather than allowing the bourgeoisie, institutions, and governments to exploit global systems for personal gain, globalisation for the common good seeks an equitable distribution of Earth’s gifts. If embraced, this approach could shift humanity from division and conflict toward cooperation and harmony, prioritising people over profit. It calls for a global economy built on integrity, responsibility, and accountability – one that acknowledges the spiritual dimensions of human existence.

Currently, business and economic frameworks operate largely detached from ethical and spiritual considerations. But a more ‘humane globalisation’ could challenge this detachment, offering an alternative to corporate ethics dictated by self-interest and the relentless sanguinary drive for profit. It would present not just an economic shift but a transformation of hearts and minds. In an era marked by environmental degradation and social fractures, this perspective offers a profound sense of hope – a reminder of our deeper purpose and the need for a more empathetic inclusive global order.

Globalisation has ultimately revealed itself as a deeply flawed and unequal system, widening the gap between the rich and the poor rather than bridging it. While the wealthy elite continue to amass unimaginable fortunes, billions of people remain trapped in grinding poverty, unable to access the so-called benefits of economic integration. The promises of globalisation ring hollow for much of the developing world, where unsafe working conditions, exploitative wages, and systemic neglect define daily life. While nations like China and India have defied the odds through selective market reforms and robust regulation, their success stories are exceptions that underscore the failure of the global system to uplift others. In numerous countries the dream of economic prosperity remains painfully out of reach. Globalisation, instead of being a force for collective progress, has entrenched inequality, leaving behind a legacy of broken promises for the world’s most vulnerable