The newsletter’s framing of Delphi—“a short walk from the spectacular ruins where the ancient Greeks consulted the oracle Pythia”—invokes a long Western tradition of seeking transcendent guidance in times of crisis. In literary terms, this recalls T. S. Eliot’s evocation of “the broken images” and “dry stones” in The Waste Land, where the speaker yearns for a prophetic voice amid cultural disintegration (Eliot, 1922/1971, p. 67). Just as Eliot’s poem gestures toward renewal through mythic allusion, the Forum’s setting suggests that contemporary geopolitics—“Europe menaced militarily by Russia and financially by the US”—requires a mythopoetic dimension to politics (Mueller, 2025).

Homi Bhabha (1994) describes cultural hybridity as the “in‑between” space where new identities form. Delphi, at once ancient and modern, becomes such an “in‑between” (p. 2), a locus where diplomats and business leaders negotiate not only policy but shared narratives of order and disorder. The Delphi forum itself represents a modern iteration of an ancient quest for wisdom, albeit one now populated by contemporary “sages and seers” grappling with distinctly modern complexities.

The juxtaposition is stark: the serene, history-laden slopes of Delphi versus the “hurly-burly” (a term echoing Shakespeare’s witches in Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 1, invoking chaos and unnatural disruption) of modern geopolitical maneuvering, exemplified by the Munich Security Conference. Greece’s geopolitical significance is highlighted – its shipping dominance makes it vulnerable to global conflict (as seen with Houthi attacks), its border location places it at the EU frontier, and its diplomatic tightrope walk with Turkey offers potential lessons in managing complex neighbourly relations.

This echoes the enduring relevance of Thucydides’ observations on power dynamics and the pressures faced by smaller states navigating the interests of larger ones, a core theme in the study of International Relations (Keohane & Nye, 1977). The simultaneous scheduling of Turkey’s Antalya Diplomacy Forum underscores this regional complexity and competition for influence.

The desire for foresight at Delphi, however, seems tinged with desperation. In a world where “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold” (Yeats, 1920/1996, p. 77), the powerful gather, perhaps hoping the genius loci will offer clarity unavailable through conventional analysis. Yet, the ancient oracle was notoriously ambiguous, its pronouncements often leading to unforeseen, tragic consequences, as dramatized in Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex. This historical resonance serves as a subtle warning againsthubris and the illusion of control often sought in such high-level gatherings.

Support

Economically, the Forum exemplifies what Ulrich Beck (2002) terms “reflexive modernization,” where institutions must continuously adapt to risks they themselves generate. Delegates “seeking especially good ideas” echo Beck’s notion that in a global risk society, knowledge becomes both commodity and shield (p. 5).

The Art Basel report—$57.5 billion in sales despite a 12 percent downturn—reflects the art market’s oscillation between speculation and cultural value. Bourdieu (1993) argues that the art field is structured by the tension between economic capital and symbolic capital; high‐end Basquiats and Monets are as much investments as they are aesthetic objects (p. 220).

In Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, the elder Zosima proclaims that “beauty will save the world” (Dostoevsky, 1880/2003, p. 409). Yet in the art‑market context, beauty is repackaged as tradable asset, raising the question: does the market’s “rude health” truly sustain beauty’s redemptive power or simply commodify it?

The economic sections starkly illustrate the real-world impacts of geopolitical “realignments.” The art market, while deemed in “rude health” despite a downturn, faces uncertainty from potential US tariffs. Noah Horowitz’s cautious “wait, hold our breath and see” attitude mirrors the broader economic anxiety. The report highlights the US market’s dominance, reflecting persistent global economic imbalances. The mention of Basquiat and Monet underscores how cultural artifacts, imbued with aesthetic and historical value, function simultaneously as high-stakes commodities within a volatile global market, subject to the whims of political actors (Appadurai, 1986).

The impact is more immediate and visceral in the Italian wine industry. Trump’s tariffs are not an abstract threat but a direct hit on a €2bn export market, forcing producers gathered at Vinitaly into a “sobering wake-up call.” This situation exemplifies the concept of economic statecraft, where trade policy is used as a tool of foreign policy, often with significant collateral damage to specific industries and cultural practices (Baldwin, 1985).

Stephanie Cuadra’s call for strategic adaptation (“forcing us to be more strategic”) reflects the necessary resilience in the face of such disruptions, but also hints at the potential homogenization of consumer choice if imported cultural staples like Brunello become prohibitively expensive. This forced adaptation, driven by external political forces, impacts not just balance sheets but also cultural exchange and consumer experience.

The 20 percent US tariff on EU wine exposes the fragility of global value chains. Stiglitz (2002) critiques protectionism’s tendency to provoke retaliation and inefficiency; here, Italian producers face “being over a barrel” (Carvalho, 2025), echoing Stiglitz’s warning that short‑term political gains often incur long‑term economic pain (p. 112).

Greece’s dual role—as maritime power controlling a fifth of global shipping and as an EU frontier with the Balkans—invites analysis through Agnew’s (2009) geopolitics of borderlands, where peripheries become sites of intensified governance and contestation (p. 87). The simultaneous Antalya Diplomacy Forum in Turkey underscores the region’s geopolitical chessboard.

In Cavafy’s poem “Ithaka,” the journey’s trials enrich the traveler: “When you set out for Ithaka / hope your road is a long one” (Cavafy, 1911/2004, ll. 1–2). Similarly, Greece’s diplomatic “road” through neighborhood disputes and defense modernization may yield deeper regional integration, even if the path is fraught.

Support

Kensaku Oshiro’s insistence on “fewer items, fewer designs, fewer concepts” resonates with Alexander’s (1977) notion of “pattern language,” where quality arises from coherence and human scale rather than proliferating novelty (p. 41). This “less is more” ethos finds a literary echo in Kafka’s The Castle, where the protagonist’s struggle against bureaucratic labyrinths underscores the human yearning for simplicity amid complexity (Kafka, 1926/1998, p. 88).

Amidst this external turbulence, the newsletter offers glimpses of internal quests for stability and control. Japanese designer Kensaku Oshiro’s philosophy stands in deliberate contrast to the market’s demand for constant novelty. His focus on refining existing designs (“Designing from the same project strengthens its identity”; “Fewer items, fewer designs, fewer concepts – it works better for me”) suggests a search for depth and endurance over ephemeral trends.

This approach resonates with broader critiques of consumer culture and the “planned obsolescence” embedded within it. Oshiro’s synthesis of Italian materiality (leather) and Japanese minimalism (“keep only what is essential”) represents a thoughtful, transnational aesthetic dialogue, creating objects intended to last, embodying a quiet resistance to disposability. It speaks to a desire for quality and meaning, perhaps a social counter-reaction to the perceived chaos elsewhere.

Turbulence Solutions’ biomimetic approach—“mimicking birds” to smooth air travel—illustrates Haraway’s (2008) concept of “naturecultures,” where technology and biology co‑produce new hybrids (p. 15). The social import is clear: enhancing passenger well‑being becomes a moral imperative as much as a technical challenge.

Similarly, the work of Turbulence Solutions, while purely technical, addresses a fundamental human desire for safety and smooth passage. By mimicking birds’ wing adaptation, András Gálffy’s company seeks to impose order on the unpredictable forces of nature. The goal of reducing turbulence by 80% is a promise of control, of mitigating one specific type of disruption in an increasingly disrupted world.

The cautious, incremental approach required by the highly regulated aviation industry (“start simple”) mirrors the careful navigation needed in other volatile sectors. It’s a micro-level attempt to engineer stability, contrasting with the macro-level uncertainties discussed at Delphi.

Across these vignettes, a pattern emerges: ancient forms (oracles, ruins, artisanal craft) are repurposed within globalized economies and politics. This dialectic of past and present finds theoretical grounding in Harvey’s (1990) concept of “time‑space compression,” where the past is continually mobilized to legitimize contemporary agendas (p. 240).

Yet world literature reminds us that mythic and aesthetic resources can also offer critical distance. As Jorge Luis Borges writes in “The Garden of Forking Paths,” “Time forks perpetually toward innumerable futures” (Borges, 1941/1998, p. 129). The Delphi Forum’s “Realignments” theme thus becomes more than a conference motif—it gestures toward the myriad trajectories open to our political, economic, and cultural orders.

In sum, Monocle’s newsletter is not merely reportage but an invitation to dialogue across disciplines and genres: to see tariffs in Shakespearean terms of trade and tragedy, to read design through Proustian evocations of memory and form, and to approach oracles as both mythic and managerial tools. Such an associative commentary, I hope, honors the newsletter’s cosmopolitan spirit while deepening our critical engagement.

Read together, these snippets from the Monocle newsletter paint a picture of a world grappling with profound uncertainty. From the geopolitical stage at Delphi, haunted by ancient echoes and modern threats, to the specific economic anxieties of art dealers and vintners, and the focused quests for stability in design studios and aerospace labs, a common thread emerges: the struggle to navigate disruptive “realignments.” The desire for foresight, control, and enduring value persists, whether sought through high-level dialogue, strategic market adaptation, meticulous craftsmanship, or technological innovation.

The newsletter serves as a microcosm of broader contemporary dynamics, reflecting a world where global interconnectedness amplifies both opportunity and vulnerability, and where the search for solid ground, like seeking the oracle’s wisdom, remains an urgent, complex, and perhaps eternally elusive endeavor. The fragmented nature of the newsletter itself mirrors the fragmented reality it describes, leaving the reader, much like the delegates heading to Delphi, searching for coherence in a world seemingly intent on kicking over the table.

Support

Agnew, J. (2009). Globalization and sovereignty. Rowman & Littlefield.

Alexander, C. (1977). A pattern language: Towns, buildings, construction. Oxford University Press.

Appadurai, A. (Ed.). (1986). The social life of things: Commodities in cultural perspective. Cambridge University Press.

Baldwin, D. A. (1985). Economic statecraft. Princeton University Press.

Beck, U. (2002). Risk society: Towards a new modernity (M. Ritter, Trans.). Sage. (Original work published 1986)

Bhabha, H. K. (1994). The location of culture. Routledge.

Borges, J. L. (1998). Labyrinths: Selected stories and other writings (D. A. Yates & J. E. Irby, Trans.). New Directions. (Original work published 1941)

Bourdieu, P. (1993). The field of cultural production: Essays on art and literature. Columbia University Press.

Cavafy, C. P. (2004). “Ithaka.” In Collected poems (D. A. B. Fitzgerald, Trans.). Princeton University Press. (Original work published 1911)

Dostoevsky, F. (2003). The Brothers Karamazov (R. Pevear & L. Volokhonsky, Trans.). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. (Original work published 1880)

Eliot, T. S. (1971). The Waste Land (S. Momaday, Ed.). Harcourt. (Original work published 1922)

Haraway, D. (2008). When species meet. University of Minnesota Press.

Harvey, D. (1990). The condition of postmodernity: An enquiry into the origins of cultural change. Blackwell.

Kafka, F. (1998). The Castle (M. Hofmann, Trans.). Schocken. (Original work published 1926)

Mitchell, T. (2003). The right to the city: Social justice and the fight for public space. Guilford Press.

Mueller, A. (2025, April). Opinion: Affairs—Can the Delphi Economic Forum foretell the future? Monocle.

Shakespeare, W. (n.d.). Macbeth. (Original work likely performed c. 1606).

Sophocles. (n.d.). Oedipus Rex. (Original work likely performed c. 429 BCE).

Stiglitz, J. E. (2002). Globalization and its discontents. W. W. Norton.

Yeats, W. B. (1996). The second coming. In R. J. Finneran (Ed.), The collected poems of W. B. Yeats (Rev. 2nd ed., p. 77). Scribner. (Original work published 1920).

Zukin, S. (2010). Naked city: The death and life of authentic urban places. Oxford University Press.

[Written, Researched, and Edited by Pablo Markin. Some parts of the text have been produced with the aid of Gemini, Google, Alphabet, and ChatGPT, OpenAI, tools (April 10, 2025).]

[Support the Open Access Blog: https://ko-fi.com/theopenaccessblogs.]

OpenEdition suggests that you cite this post as follows:
Pablo Markin (April 10, 2025). Delphi Economic Forum, Art Basel and Italian Wine Industry. Open Access Blog. Retrieved April 10, 2025 from https://oab.hypotheses.org/1402.

Thanks for reading The Substack Newsletter for the Open Access Blogs! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

Support dialog