Cultural Capital Is Local. American Influence Is Global.
Cultural capital may be local, but the way we talk about it is still written in American terms.
I used to think “cultural relevance” was the holy grail. A brand being cool meant it was in the right conversations, with the right collaborators, in the right subcultures. But that belief came from living in New York for the past decade, where cultural capital is king.
Now, as I move backed to Asia, where I originally grew up, I’m starting to question this concept. This made me start to see cultural capital in a different lens.
1. “Cultural capital,” as we know it, is shaped by an American lens.
In the U.S., consumers equate “cool” with relevance — being part of a moment, a vibe, a subculture that they would like to identify with. Cultural capital is a vehicle for individual identity, which is something the American ideal of individualism had consistently fought for throughout history. It’s about being in on the cultural conversation. In the postmodern era, it is often driven by hype cycles, meme fluency, and social validation both by the insider and the people outside.
Don’t get me wrong. The concept of “cultural capital” is universal. But the way brands and media talk about it? That’s still narrowly defined through the U.S. market logic. Not to mention it is very performative.
2. Other markets don’t play by the same rules.
The American playbook — where a brand earns clout by “owning culture” — doesn’t always translate abroad. The same narrative around cultural capital, and the logic that brands should stimulate or shape culture to win relevance, is not a universal truth.
Take Mainland China, where I grew up — and a market I reported on while at Jing Daily. Even in 2025, what drives aspiration isn’t subcultural fluency, but authority, prestige, and trust. Cultural nuance and subtext? Less of a priority.
And that’s not just cultural — it’s economic. As a developing economy, China’s vast middle class is experiencing a wealth contraction. With over 60% of household wealth tied up in real estate, the property downturn has left many consumers with limited disposable income and a need to play it safe. In this environment, trust and established status symbols hold more weight than trendiness or insider codes.
In Europe, the rules are different again. Through conversations with friends and observations on the ground, the flex isn’t hype — it’s authenticity. Trying to sell “cool” in the American sense — fast-moving, performative, subculture-led — often feels forced. It lacks the cultural grounding that European consumers can relate to.
The idea that a brand can gain loyalty by being “in on the culture” is a very American thesis. In other parts of the world, other currencies matter.
But here’s the twist: America’s taste still trickles down globally.
Even in markets not inherently driven by cultural capital, there’s a gravitational pull toward what’s trending in the U.S. — not because it always resonates culturally, but because it signals global awareness. Why? Because America has always been the world’s culture exporter.
In 2025, the influence runs even deeper. Social media, meme culture, and algorithmic discovery work like invisible wires — amplifying U.S. “cool” that travels further than most people even realize.
Take China, for example. Owning a Stanley Cup, a Rare Beauty blush, or a Rhode lip gloss isn’t just about the product. It’s a flex — a signal that you’re in the know with American pop culture. Sure, there’s often a wink of irony, maybe even a meme about how mainstream it’s become. But the appeal is still aspirational.
Or consider what I saw every time when walking past the On Running flagship store on Lafayette Street in NYC. There was always a line out the door — and as a New Yorker, I could tell at least half the people were international tourists.
That store wasn’t just a retail space; it had become a kind of cultural shrine. A place people visited not just to shop, but to pay tribute to a piece of American-cool(ironically On wasn’t even a US brand) they could wear home. And let’s not forget: for a stretch of time, half the people in my Barry’s class in NYC were wearing On sneakers. Then it became Hoka. In many ways, New York City has become the incubator lab for global, exportable cool.
So even if cultural capital doesn’t drive consumption in China or Europe in the way it does in the U.S., the American perception of cool still shapes what people want to buy. What’s cool in America becomes a shortcut to global relevance.
Will this pattern change?
Not anytime soon — unless two major shifts happen:
A realignment of geopolitical power,
where cultural production and influence no longer flow through U.S.-dominated platforms, narratives, and capital systems. Right now, American culture still sets the tone because American infrastructure — from Hollywood to Silicon Valley to the creator economy — owns the pipes and the stage.A technological paradigm shift,
where the next great discovery or platform (e.g. social, AI, spatial computing) emerges outside the U.S., and isn’t absorbed by it. For cultural power to truly diversify, the vehicle of transmission — whether it’s a social app, meme language, or even a fashion aesthetic — has to be built and scaled independently of U.S. influence.
Until then, American “cool” will remain the most exportable currency — not necessarily because it’s more meaningful, but because the megaphone is still in American hands.
Happy weekend, my friends.
x Patricia
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