Abstract
Keywords
We are currently living through what future generations might refer to as an external “shock,” “jolt,” or “radical rupture” that precipitated a major global societal transformation. The crisis’s severity, pace, and impact on institutional change have been unprecedented in our lifetime, surpassing the 2008-2009 global financial crisis (Höllerer et al., 2018) and prompting commentators’ use of the 1930s Great Depression as a point of comparison (excluding World War II). From vague prognoses on the length of this raging pandemic and broad predictions of shape and magnitude of socioeconomic consequences, there is much uncertainty about the postpandemic world: a lot will be different, but just how and what exactly remain anybody’s guess. Nonetheless, the current crisis has been an extended moment of reflection on the changing social world and the theories we employ to make sense of the unfolding events. For scholars interested in the nature, sources, and processes of institutional change and stability (Greenwood et al., 2017), we have had a real-time glimpse into a transformative episode that might have altered the way we socially engage with each other forever.
While the pandemic’s impact will continue to fuel debates for years to come, it has precipitated rapid and massive change in highly institutionalized elements of our collective lives by fast-tracking trends that were already under way (for instance, the declining use of cash and the rise of contactless payment systems). Other, and more transformative changes have stemmed from the very cracks produced by the contradictions, heterogeneity, and multiplicity of existing institutional arrangements, and potentially set us on a new path.
In this commentary, we explore—through the prism of sociological institutionalism—the consequences, implications, and meaning of the COVID-19 pandemic and its cascading effects on worldwide institutional change. We argue that we are currently witnessing nothing less than a radical rupture in the globally shared “institutional fabric”: discontinuities in the taken-for-granted features of global society that have developed over the past decades. The COVID-19 (coronavirus disease 2019) pandemic and the subsequent socioeconomic crisis have afforded an experimental space in which deeply institutionalized features are scrutinized and transformed, and novel if not contested ideas are being tried out—and perhaps eventually accepted. We engage with the changing parameters of globalization, challenges for collective action, and an unexpected rediscovery of the social.
The Global Institutional Order and the Nation-State in the Postpandemic World
The COVID-19 pandemic has demonstrated the interconnectedness of global society, unified by its collective vulnerability to a rapidly spreading virus. So many of us were attuned to the data about the world on a daily basis—not just numbers of confirmed COVID-19 cases in our local communities but also trends worldwide. If we are to move beyond the crisis, nothing short of global eradication would do the job. The virus has drastically reduced the global flow of material “things,” and countries have turned inward to “flatten the curve.” As societies quickly closed borders to protect local populations, we observed how easily the taken-for-granted features of social life can crumble. The unrelenting pace of globalization has weakened—and the talk of “deglobalization” beckons.
This pandemic has also highlighted the fragility of institutional orders. The European Union—arguably the most integrated transnational political union among sovereign nation-states—has seen a temporary shutdown of borders among its member states and a complete halt to the “free movement of people” as originally proclaimed in the Treaty of Rome. The United States of America, once celebrated as the country of immigrants, has temporarily paused immigration. The closing of borders, coupled with the recent rise of right- and left-wing populism and (new) nationalism(s), has been a strong reminder that we are still living in the age of the nation-state. Have we gotten too comfortable with our “global lives” that may never, or at least not anytime soon, return?
Nation-states are increasingly at war with their recent past in, and accomplishments of, world society. In this rapidly changing environment, some states are actively tearing apart the institutional fabric of the postwar globalized world, starting with multilateralism represented by international institutions, like the World Trade Organization (WTO) and World Health Organization (WHO), and economic interdependence. The U.S. Federal Government, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, has halted its financial support for and terminated its relationship with the WHO; similarly, the Trump administration is sabotaging the WTO by refusing to appoint judges for its appeals panel. Moreover, what was once a competitive advantage is now considered a major liability: The efficiency gain of global supply chains does not seem to be too beneficial any longer, as the recent calls for “shortening the supply chain” and “on-shoring” suggest.
Whether these developments augur a fundamental shift in global society or represent a temporary divergence from the postwar trajectory, we will have to find out. We might see the on-shoring of certain medical and otherwise critical products and services—but realize the difficulty of slicing up the components of our favorite smart phone. Countries, similarly, could rush back to multilateralism as the only viable way to overcome the global pandemic and address other—even bigger—issues such as climate change. However, the crisis has revealed the multiplicity of the state and its changing role. Nation-states are legitimated by the broader global system, but they maintain both the global order and the welfare of local societies (Höllerer et al., 2017).
In this context, institutional analyses remain relevant and show how our collective understandings constitute, define, enable, and constrain social actors and their interests, rights, and capacity (i.e., as “models of actorhood”; Hwang & Colyvas, 2019; Hwang et al., 2019). The inadequacy of the American superpower in its response has shown that its military power and economic might are of little use in the fight against the virus’s silent spread. What kind of capacity, then, is valued in the post-COVID-19 model of the nation-state? Will national security and welfare concerns trump competitive market advantage arguments? Will increasingly protectionist strategies—as also displayed in the context of developing an antidote to the virus—impede an era built on the ideas of “open innovation,” “wisdom of the crowd,” and collaboration? And, more immediately, how can the necessary global collaboration for eradicating the virus effectively be forged, given the increasingly varied national responses to pressing global problems and the ensuing difficulties of mustering collective action for addressing grand challenges?
Collective Action Revisited
The COVID-19 pandemic has radically altered the basic grammar of collective action. Many activities have moved into virtual environments, and “working from home” has become the “new normal.” While the long-term impact remains uncertain, the involuntary embrace of virtuality has increased the mutability, multiplicity, and heterogeneity of existing ways of organizing collective action (Clemens & Cook, 1999).
The extensive use of information and communication technology has swiftly introduced innovative work templates and novel ways of organizing collectives that can be interpreted as “cultural leapfrogging” through elaborating institutional infrastructure (Gehman & Höllerer, 2019). Who would have thought that universities could pull off creating virtual learning and teaching environments—a highly contested move just months ago—so effectively; that we were able to conduct research and organize conferences exclusively on virtual platforms; or that some companies could rather successfully navigate the crisis? Critical events trigger innovation and renewal (as in Schumpeter’s notion of “creative destruction”): with the disturbed balance of supply and demand, new needs surface, and present opportunities for entrepreneurial creativity.
The COVID-19 crisis has without doubt caused an incredible amount of harm and disruption. Many countries have witnessed a massive dismantling of the small and medium enterprises sector, reduced working hours, and redundancies in the manufacturing industry, as well as overall plummeting productivity and unprecedented unemployment rates. We have no idea yet what all this means for the “future of work”—the discussion of which was set in motion with the shift toward coworking, open-plan offices, “hot-desking,” and a scripted “intrapreneurship” ethos just about a decade ago (the so-called “Googlization” of work). Will this be the end of “our own” physical office as we know it, or of working in teams in close physical proximity? What will these changes mean for us as social beings and to organizations as the primary form of collective action? How will we maintain organizational culture in the absence of physical contact and socialize new recruits into the workplace? Can managers avoid the deterioration of employment relations into a plain “contractual” exchange of resources? Just as an “appetizer” for the things to come, Twitter and Facebook recently announced controversial plans to move the majority of their workforce to “remote work” after the lifting of lockdowns. The Economist has coined the “90% economy” to suggest that the post-COVID-19 world will see fewer workplaces.
But what does all this entail for other spheres of collective social life, such as culture, religion, and leisure? Will 100,000 capacity arenas ever sell out again for a sports event or rock concert? Currently, amateur team sports are widely banned; professional sports associations and their multimillion-dollar businesses are going virtual as teams compete in empty stadiums; and Formula 1 drivers race each other on the simulator. Live concerts no longer just mean audiences gathering at a designated venue, but music coming to whoever is willing to watch online, as in the Sydney Opera House’s livestreaming concert series. We even see musicians scattered around the globe performing together, as in Jimmy Fallon’s The Tonight Show. Also, centuries-old religious rituals have significantly changed: social distancing trumped the need to gather for liturgical service; the papal “Urbi et Orbi” was uttered in an almost empty St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican; and Islam’s holy month of Ramadan had to be reimagined in terms of practices, prayers, and celebrations. From an institutional perspective, such radical changes in religious norms and law without too much debate seem quite amazing.
On the societal level, the disrupting COVID-19 crisis has brutally brought to the fore the deeply ingrained fault lines in the social fabric, resulting in further displacement and division (e.g., Creed et al., forthcoming). The already disadvantaged (by class, race, gender, etc.) often suffer the most and fall behind during a crisis, and the complexity of intersectionality looms large in the unequal distribution of means for “robust action” (Ferraro et al., 2015). How can democratic societies address this tendency? Arguably, democracy is one of the most central features of the contemporary global institutional fabric. With this, we ask: What does the COVID-19 crisis and related policy and governance responses entail, for instance, for democratic citizen rights; for the right to demonstrate and rally; for social movements; for strikes and unionism? What are the interaction effects with other pressing societal demands, such as social inequality and the climate crisis? Furthermore, to support “contact tracing,” we willingly abandoned privacy rights for the wider collective good, signing up for government-issued COVID apps. Will that moment of solidarity be corrupted for other purposes, and by other institutions, such as the police and homeland security forces, in the near future? Has “contact tracing” quietly paved the way to “citizen tracking?” All such questions, we argue, should be central to—and at the same time help push forward—institutional analyses.
Rediscovering the Social in the Individual
As societies around the world enforce “social distancing” measures, individual citizens have embraced the paradoxical necessity of such measures: we had to sacrifice our existential need for the social for the benefit of society as a whole.
For many of us, however, this was not just about hiding away in self-isolation. During social distancing, we have (re-)discovered the social once again. Indeed, in our “individualized” practices of social isolation, we celebrated the social. For instance, we reconnected with our families and friends in a way “normal life” would not have allowed us. While physical, face-to-face meetings are explicitly banned, people have actively connected with others in far-flung corners of the world via virtual means—reminding us that globalization is by no means limited to commerce and travel, but has created worldwide personal networks.
As so often in times of crisis, we reexamine our faith, moral grounds, and social solidarity that give meaning to our existence in relation to a broader collective. We accept responsibility and care for each other, renewing and assigning novel meanings to the notion of communitas. In the United Kingdom, as in many parts of Europe, we witnessed individuals—including key policy makers—stepping out of their homes, onto their balconies, in order to collectively applaud and appreciate the efforts of health professionals belonging to the very same National Health Service that had been neglected in terms of proper funding over the years, and that is built on a low-income and migrant workforce. It is in this sense that the crisis has made us reflect upon which institutions we regard are fundamental to our societies—for instance, and similar to the 2008-2009 global financial crisis, the role of the state and public sector in a caring capacity—and that societal appreciation and actual valuation of work might too often be only insufficiently aligned.
In short, we became more receptive and conscious of others around us, near, and far: service providers, the neighbors, or disadvantaged groups in society such as the homeless person on the street corner. Strangers are no longer anonymous and faceless “others”; we even started greeting each other when walking down the city boulevards on the unavoidable grocery shopping trip during the lockdown, share short yet incredibly personal stories with the salesperson in the supermarket, while navigating public spaces with renewed respect for others’ personal space.
At their core, all these issues are about the changing nature, or institutionalized meaning, of what we refer to as the “social” and as “social practices” (Meyer et al., in press): How do we find meaning and interact with one another as members of a larger collective? The COVID-19 pandemic has provided a unique opportunity for our domain of scholarly inquiry to elaborate on what institutional theory can offer in terms of effectively understanding the current changes in the social world (and possible response strategies) and to explore how the crisis provides ground to question, test, and advance the well-stocked conceptual tool box of institutional theory.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was partially supported by funds from the Ministry of Education of the Republic of Korea and the National Research Foundation of Korea (NRF-2018S1A5A2A03030694).
