Movement used to be a symptom of crisis. Now, it’s the global trend. Whether fleeing war, chasing jobs, or swiping algorithms, the modern subject is expected to be in motion. Migration, remote work, flexible contracts, floating identities; mobility is no longer only a by-product of ideology. It is our new bio-politic. An already integrated civilisational value. A living logic. The only thing more politically loaded than crossing a border today is refusing to move at all. And in a world where motion is destiny, the right to stay rooted becomes the rarest privilege of all.
From Crisis to Code: Mobility Becomes the Model
The 21st century was not meant to be still. Whether in economic recovery plans or post-pandemic adaptation, governments, markets, social trends, influencers have redefined human value in terms of mobility. Consider the forced displacement: as of the end of 2023, 117.3 million people were forcibly displaced worldwide—of the 117.3 million displaced, 43.4 million are refugees and 6.9 million asylum-seekers. A record high according to the UNHCR. That’s roughly 1 in every 69 humans on Earth, with more than 68 million internally displaced and over 43.4 million classified as refugees. This marks a fundamental structural shift in our contemporary world. People are constantly in motion; they are displaced, they relocate to different countries, they participate in year-long exchange programs, and so forth.
Drawing on the insights of French sociologist Michel Maffesoli, we can more precisely define this emerging trend at a macro-level. Our era is moving but paradoxically witnessing a resurgence of tribal organization, conceived as a response to this societal shift. However, this contemporary tribal structure is not intrinsically linked to territory; rather, it is forged through shared interests and digital connectivity. In essence, the concept of “rootedness” is evolving to signify the alignment with similar values, potentially leading to transnational mobility alongside individuals who share these principles. Consequently, the definition of “rooted” is fundamentally transformed, no longer representing the localized individual making infrequent visits to urban centers, but rather a globalized community where connections are selectively cultivated based on individual volition.
Political Ideology in a Borderless Age
But mobility has become both a political imperative and a deeply contradictory phenomenon. While Western economies promote migration as a market solution to aging populations and labor shortages—making opposition an act of defiance in today’s mobility-first regime—a reverse flow is also emerging: natives abandoning their birthplaces in search of new roots. In 2024, Italy saw 155,732 emigrants, the highest figure in a decade. Portugal faces a significant “brain drain,” with over 23% of its under-39 population living abroad. Similarly, rural Hungary has lost nearly 240,000 citizens since 2010, 44% of whom are under 30.
Stasis, at its core, is then a political act. Remaining in one's country signifies a direct resistance to the migratory flows of those entering or exiting. This dynamic isn't merely a clash of civilizations, but rather a fundamental collision between the fluid and the immutable. Michel Maffesoli's theory of postmodern neo-tribalism offers again an accurate perspective. He argued that modern individuals create “neo-tribes”—small, emotionally driven communities founded on shared sentiments and aesthetics, rather than geographical proximity. In contemporary society, rootedness is then a conscious choice. Expats and exiles alike establish global tribes through common values, practices, and even digital platforms, thereby transcending physical borders. Nevertheless, this phenomenon contributes to the decline of community level in the areas left behind. If rootedness is now a conscious choice, it was never the case before, and individuals are now faced with a fundamental decision regarding their direction: whether to remain or depart. This choice highlights the core impetus behind current societal shifts: people prioritize personal well-being over traditional communal ties. Consequently, new communities are forming, composed of those who share values. This has led to a complete redefinition of what “community” signifies.
But the reality is more fractured than aspirational rhetoric suggests. In 2022, the EU granted nearly 3.7 million first-time residence permits to non-EU citizens—the highest number since Eurostat began collecting this data in 2008. What was once billed as opportunity now often resembles managed displacement: freedom of movement for some, structural dislocation for others. The language of “open societies” rings increasingly hollow for native populations who feel not physically removed, but existentially marginalised—disconnected from institutions that no longer articulate a shared national identity.
For many, staying put no longer guarantees belonging. The rooted feel themselves estranged in place: surrounded by unfamiliar customs, atomised communities, and institutions that communicate in the language of inclusion, but often practise segmentation. The State, once a cohesive vessel of collective purpose, now serves as a mere logistics hub for overlapping identity groups and private interests.
In such a system, mobility becomes a divider: those who move remain visible and empowered, while those who stay are rendered mute. And thus global mobility is also responsible for global loneliness.
Statement
The 21st century will be remembered not for its wars, but for how it moved. Motion is no longer reactive. It’s a mandate—political, economic, existential. A civilisation built on flux inevitably devalues permanence. But every system that worships mobility also creates friction. The privileged drift. The precarious float. The powerless drown. In a world where migration becomes policy and transit becomes virtue, perhaps the only radical act left is to stay still—and demand that politics catch up to the place it forgot.
