What makes a border today: the natural divide of a river, mountain, or sea, a ruled mark on a dusty map such as in the 1916 Sykes-Picot Agreement that carved up the Ottoman Empire, or the common history, language, or race of a group, not at all mutually exclusive or easily defined? Of course, one should expect trouble when a straight-edge ruler marks the difference between you and me, but the bigger question now is how atomized must we become before we stop drawing lines between us? Simply put, how big is my tribe?
If my tribe is the world, I am concerned about nuclear proliferation, global warming, and the plight of refugees, some of whom are still fleeing war-torn countries and conflicts started in my name to protect our fossil-fuel burning past. If my tribe is my nation, I may want to discourage others enlisting and using my resources for free, unless I need them for cheap work as in the US and Canada, or to take care of me in my old age since fertility rates in Europe have fallen below the essential “replacement level” of 2.1 (Portugal, Spain, and Greece 1.3, France and Ireland 1.9, the EU average 1.6).
Indeed, there is much wrangling these days over what is yours and what is mine, though perhaps it has ever been thus. The UK (majority only in England and Wales) wants out of Europe to be separated by more than just the English Channel (a.k.a. La Manche on the French side), the red rural and blue urban American states are in a…