Diversity defines the health and wealth of nations -- as well as of companies and the people inside them. The mixing of races, ethnic groups, and nationalities -- at home and abroad -- is at a record level. In a world of deepening connections, individuals, organizations, and entire countries draw strength and personality from places as near as their local neighborhood and as far away as a distant continent. Mixing is the new norm. The hybrid is hip. Mighty is the mongrel.
This is no passing fashion. Rather, it is a deep change. Say good-bye to the pure, the straight, the smooth. Forget the original, the primordial, the one. Mixing trumps isolation. It spawns creativity, nourishes the human spirit, spurs economic growth, empowers nations. Racial, ethnic, and national categories no longer impose fixed barriers or unbending traditions. These categories do not vanish. Instead, they join the many pieces inside a kaleidoscope, presenting a different image from one instant to the next.
Nothing can stop the rise of mongrels -- of people who mock the very idea that union requires homogeneity or that victory depends on smothering dissent in a blanket of uniformity. Rich nations will go mongrel because it is right and good. They will go mongrel because it is the only antidote to stagnation, the only durable source of innovation, the only viable way to preserve their traditions while embracing change.
And what goes for countries goes for companies as well. The conditions for creating wealth have changed in ways that play to the strengths of hybrid individuals, organizations, and nations. And those who wish to profit from changing economic conditions must view hybridity as their first and best option.
The ability to apply knowledge to new situations is the most valued currency in today's economy. More than ever, creativity rewards those who exercise it, so curiosity about the source of creativity has never been higher. How creativity comes about is a riddle, but a few things seem clear. Highly creative people don't necessarily excel in raw brainpower. They are misfits on some level. They tend to question accepted views and to consider contradictory ones. Not coincidentally, such an appreciation for paradox defines the mongrel mentality.
The implications of this asynchrony are plain to see: Divergent thinking is an essential ingredient of creativity. Diverse groups produce diverse thinking. Ergo, diversity promotes creativity. This logic applies to corporations, research teams, think tanks, and other groups of creators. Those who rely on diverse people are more likely to innovate than those who rely on platoons of similar people.
To be sure, hybridity poses risks. A hybrid person may lose himself in a jumble of affiliations. A hybrid nation may botch the process of reinvention. Still, the price of such errors seems lower than the cost of circling the ethnic wagons and either shutting out people who are different or forcing them to become "one of us." Never before have so many people married across racial and ethnic lines. Never before have so many people left their homelands for work or pleasure. Never before have so many people touched or tasted the clothes, foods, musical styles, and ideas of cultures not available to them in their youth. These people are not becoming phantoms or dilettantes. Rather, they are part of an outpouring of human creativity that is being driven by radical mixing.
What follows, then, are portraits in the new power of hybrids, in the triumph of mongrels. In meeting these mongrels, we are meeting ourselves -- and our future. "You cannot spill a drop of American blood," Herman Melville wrote in 1849, "without spilling the blood of the whole world." More than ever, Melville's declaration applies not only to America, but to all nations.
Radha Basu's job spans the world. Literally. From her base in Cupertino, California, she manages teams of Hewlett-Packard software writers who work in California and Colorado, in Australia, England, Germany, India, Japan, and Switzerland. Born and educated in India, she earned a computer-science degree in the United States, became a naturalized U.S. citizen, and notched her first experience as an international manager in Germany. "I feel like a global person," she says. "I feel like I belong anywhere."
Her feeling is appropriate, given the realities of business today. In many industries, gone are the days when a single location produced an entire project or product. The need to finish products and services quickly -- and in forms varied enough to satisfy local differences -- means that designers often must work around the clock. This "following the sun" approach works best when tasks are split between continents. And, as the search for talent gets more heated, global managers must be technically adept but culturally sensitive, familiar with corporate rules but flexible enough to bend those rules when necessary. Above all, they must get their message across to people who are working across many time zones -- 15 time zones, in Basu's case.