In The Modern World

By Gabriela Peñate López

What will remain of our heritage in a world driven by profit? Where history and culture are sacrificed for economic gain? As cities transform under the pressures of capitalism, are we losing our roots and shared spaces to the demands of utility and production?

Various factors contribute to the rise and relentless expansion of utilitarianism as the dominant model for affordable living in modern society. In a globalised society that exploits resources as a constant means of production, usefulness translates into capital value. Is it worth my time? Will it give me money? Without that currency, I could never afford to live, so why should anything else matter? Where will heritage go if the land beneath our feet is not promised? This mindset, which rules entire governments, constructs hostile cities. It erases collective memory due to ‘monetary necessities’ that benefit only a few selective multimillionaire pockets.

What about the legacy of our ancestors? What about our roots— whatever they may be, wherever they come from? What about their language—which is still embedded in our variation? What about historical buildings? Third spaces, originally meant to be gathering spots for community building and cultural traditions, even the foundations of local variants of language, are transformed. Local central markets, where the elderly once passed on oral tradition, are now co-working spaces run by digital nomads, whether locals or not. Historical buildings are bought by international tech companies or left to rot due to their lack of ‘monetary utility’ instead of being used by the people.

As cities are devoured by western banks, locals have no other choice but to leave. An endless cycle. Low-cost flights. Cheaper indigenous or post-colonial destinations in comparison. The same questions once asked by those who left behind, are repeated again and again: is it useful to still speak our native language? You know it’s over when English as the lingua franca starts appearing on traffic signs. Yet, the fingers are not pointing to the actual perpetrators. Those accountable are never held up to the light.

This cycle seems to occupy every single space left in the modern world—wanted or not—through violence or passive aggression. But there are possible answers, all leading back to building community. Acts of resistance against the relentless force of production can take multiple necessary forms: reinvigorating our sense of community, fostering affordable public housing, creating communal gardens, and showing interpersonal care. 

This answer gains importance as the utilitarian capitalist mindset has led to the defunding (and elimination) of many humanities programs in universities worldwide. Investigating the close understanding of the world we inhabit is not “useful” when the answer contradicts the utilitarian system. The expansion of artistic, creative, social, and scientific explanations of the current crisis are signs of social and communal resistance. On the other hand, the lack of worldwide governmental funding is a sign of systemic deterioration.

What kind of heritage will we recognize when there is nothing left to preserve? What heritage will we pass on in five years, given the many global changes since the 2000s—or even since the pandemic? Will we even be here five years from now?