Group Three.

Take the example of music. Recorded music is, in many ways, an ideal variable with which to analyze the globalization of communication. Long ago commodified, commercial music is widely consumed, yet has distinctly national origins. It’s safe to say we all “like” music. However, music not only serves as a type of entertainment, but also as a status indicator. The styles or groups one listens to function as social markers—they create distinct communities of listeners. If commercial music has undergone the same vast increase in global distribution as television and news media, has it also experienced the emergence of transnational communities of listeners?

Personal experience says “yes.” In my days as an exchange student, I was struck at the role music played in bringing a highly international student body together (and dividing us, as well). As it would in any other school, music functioned as a social filter—a status indicator, sorting us into groups by taste. More important, though, was the marked diversity in the origins of the music we shared. I, an American, found a fast friend in a Melbourner who shared my love for a group from Berlin. Vancouverites and Parisians bonded over music from the favelas of Rio. Certainly, we all knew the highly commercialized American pop groups, but they didn’t dominate our conversations. It was clear then that there is no longer one center of music production—with the help of the Internet, we drew from all over the world.

Of course, critics might say that this sort of “citizen of the world” attitude only arises among a certain class of people. Perhaps those who were drawn to an international exchange were more likely to listen to music from foreign locales in the first place.

Maybe. I would argue, however, that such people are simply “early adopters.” As access to high speed Internet increases, the ability of tech-savvy young people to seek out and enjoy music (and other media) produced all over the world increases as well. The trend can only spread.