By Fred Zilian

 When our General Electric washing machine failed and I decided to take a chance with the GE service system and not the local guys, it was not that I minded talking to "Moses" in Costa Rica at the 800 number for GE service. A friend who recently spent a year there had hearty praise for the country: tremendous ecological diversity, an active volcano, and very friendly people. After the business part of our call ended, I asked him about his country, and Moses encouraged me to visit.

          It was not that the person who actually dispatched the repairman to my house was located in Phoenix, Arizona. The day may come when I, with my fair share of allergies, may move there. Granted, I was concerned when I returned her call and spoke not to her but to the "GE Verification System," a computer that (who?) clarified my appointment time and efficiently provided me with my verification number.

These experiences reflect the modern age of globalization or globalism, a term used as early as the 1970s, referring to the increasing interconnectedness of individuals, communities, states, and corporations, propelled by the revolutions in technologies of the past few decades. From 1992 to 2002 phone traffic, for example, between the U.S. and its fifty most frequent calling partners grew by 362%. I may teach an online course that Moses may take from Costa Rica, and he in turn may coordinate the servicing of my washing machine here in Rhode Island.

With the end of the Cold War, Thomas Friedman, the New York Times columnist, has called this phenomenon of globalization the new "superstory" of the international system. Globalization has allowed companies to search for the lowest labor costs and to sell their goods and services farther and faster than ever before. To capitalize on lower labor costs and to exploit skilled labor pools the world over, Whirlpool, for example, assembles its front-loading washing machines in Germany for export to the U.S, its refrigerators in Brazil for export to Europe. It also engineers its microwaves in Sweden and assembles them in China for export to the U.S.

For the consumer, globalization has also allowed a dramatic explosion in variety. One study indicated that in 1972 the U.S. imported 74,667 varieties of 7,731 goods from around the world, while in 2001 it imported 259,215 varieties of 16,390 goods.

Globalization is not simply about tangible goods. With the shortage of Roman Catholic clergy in the U.S., priests in Kerala, India, are receiving prayer requests from Americans via e-mail and saying Mass for these special intentions. Not only did I talk to Moses in Costa Rica about service for my washing machine, I also talked to "Atif" in Toronto about my AOL service.

Looking like GE's answer to Mr. Good Wrench, the GE technician arrived at my home at the appointed time and date and diagnosed the problem expeditiously. Happily, he had the correct spare part in his "GE" emblazoned van and judiciously installed the new motor.

No, the greatest globalization anxiety came at the end of the visit. I asked the technician what happened if a problem developed with the repair. Could I call him? No, he said. "You will have to call the 800 number [Costa Rica] again."

I appreciate the increase in choices and decrease in prices that globalization has afforded me; however, the loss of individual accountability for the quality of the service gives me pause. Large, globalized companies may now more easily weave technological layers of insulation around themselves, making themselves less accountable to individual consumers. I know the face and the location of the person who changes my oil, who repairs my plumbing, who cuts my grass, and who repairs my electrical circuits. However, if a problem develops with his recent repair, I will not be able to recall the GE repairman, even though he lives in Barrington.

Its many benefits notwithstanding, globalization may also amplify the traditional problems consumers have had with the facelessness and impersonality of large companies. My heating oil company recently changed hands. Formerly based in Tiverton, RI, the new company, Petro, appears to be based in Port Washington, New York. (I searched its website in vain for an address of its headquarters.) It has an impressively sophisticated website claiming that it is the largest retail distributor of home heating oil in the country with 8.1 million customers. With so many customers, will Petro be responsive to little me?

Finally, the phone company. I called Verizon to inquire about a repair to my in-ground line. Having recently spoken to Moses in Costa Rica, I asked about the woman's location. She added to my anxieties when she said, "I am not allowed to tell you my location." If we were disconnected, I would have to call the 800 number again. In responding to my request, she stated that the "foreman"-no name, no phone number-would call me by 5 pm. He never did.