The economics of cultural autonomy

UNESCO is saving the world from America, one buddy-cop flick at a time.

Last Thursday, delegates to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization overwhelmingly approved the first international treaty designed to protect domestic cultural goods like movies and music from foreign competition. Only the United States and Israel voted against the measure.

The referendum is ostensibly meant to shield tiny, vulnerable countries whose "cultural expressions" are at risk of being swept away by foreign cultural imperialism — and all the Big Macs, horror flicks and blingy pop stars that go with it. As an ambassador from Benin told UNESCO delegates, "Not all countries are equal — some need to be protected."

This was a battle that pitted cultural diversity against cultural conformity, said the referendum's proponents. Of course, few are arguing for the "cultural diversity" managed by the governments of North Korea, China and Iran.

The measure may have existed in the name of countries like Benin, but it was largely organized by — and passed in — France. For years the French have tried to protect their national culture from foreign influence, with the Académie Française famously banning English words to prevent them from corrupting the original lingua franca (e.g., "le weekend" and "le cyberspace.") Quotas on English songs played on French radio and imported films shown in French cinemas have long predated the UNESCO vote.

Is France, the country that invented haute culture, really in danger of having its national character dissolved into the force majeure of globalization? Will its baguette bakers be relegated to the status of Wonderbread wielders, its turophiles sentenced to slurping Brie-flavored Cheese Whiz?

Unlikely. However great or small the threat of cultural homogenization may be, this treaty is really about the proud reciprocation of what other countries perceive to be good ol'-fashioned American bullying. In fact, though the United States is nowhere mentioned in the UNESCO referendum, much of the international coverage of the decision has been headlined with some version of "[This Newspaper's Country] Beat Out America!"

As peeved as U.S. delegates may be by this "anti-American" action, at least they've got the law of supply and demand on their side. According to The Washington Post, foreign box-office revenues for American films — among the country's biggest exports — totaled $16 billion in 2004. If American cultural goods and services are desired by foreign citizens, whether because of higher production values or sexiness or the appeal of the forbidden, the contraband will likely continue to find its way across borders.

In the long term, states can't mandate the popularity of traditional cultural goods anymore than they can impose antiquated but "traditional" standards of living on their residents. And surely governments realize the futility of protecting homegrown cultural relics. But this isn't just about competition between domestic old and foreign new at home; this is about foreign new versus domestic new, worldwide. And this isn't just about economics; it's about empathy.

France and other countries likely feel that their new cultural goods are already ideologically blockaded from reaching American audiences, given Americans' automatic dismissal of non-Americans' conceptual handiwork, and this new protectionist policy is economic tit for ethnocentric tat. Even if no American cultural trade policy exists, foreign films brought to the United States are often saddled with shoddy distribution rights; Stephen Chow's masterpiece "Shaolin Soccer," for example, was bought by Miramax, which notoriously bastardized the film's footage and then recklessly botched its cinema release. At Blockbuster, all international films fall under the same genre: foreign, which has become a derogatory synonym for "irrelevant." Even the Academy Awards consigns laudable international films to a separate, condescending category, with only a half-dozen of such movies ever receiving a best film nomination in the ceremony's 80-year history (and none winning).

Given the condescension we show toward these other cultures — and the expectations of stupidity we have toward anyone with an accent — can we really blame the rest of the world for throwing a trade tantrum? The United States should fight UNESCO's barriers to cultural trade because cultural exchange is necessary, not just for a more favorable balance of trade but for mutual understanding. But we can't expect the leaders of the rest of the world to want their peoples to understand us if we don't try to understand them. Catherine Rampell is an anthropology major from Palm Beach, Fla. She can be reached at crampell@princeton.edu.