Do we have common references? The answer is yes. Vashudhaiva kutumbakam, we are all one family. We are also an association and an organisation, the Network Institute for Global Democratization (NIGD). NIGD's present chairperson, Matti Kohonen, has sketched our agenda. That, obviously, is also a common reference.
But we need further ones, in particular, for our communication in the networked institute. Our communication is part of an effort to build a common culture, and I mentioned books, which in my view suit the purpose: H.G. Wells' "The Open Conspiracy"; I. Wallerstein's "European Universalism"; and M.K. Gandhi's "Hind Swaraj". These works are relatively short, which means that no researcher and/or a social activist can pretend that he or she does not have the time to read them. Each one relates strongly to global democratization. One difference is that Gandhi and Wells are precursors while Wallerstein is a living member. Gandhi, of course, is much more of a practitioner than Wells and Wallerstein, who are theorists. But Wallerstein strives to greater universality than Wells, who is limited to the European universalism. In the writings and speeches of NIGD members which I have seen or heard, you often find literal references to at least one of these three, very different, figures. I have not seen any references to the theory or praxis of Simone Weil, nor have I studied her works, but I have heard or read some very interesting quotations from them.

The network itself is also a common reference, and a new one, because never before has humanity had an internet. Yet the humanity is still divided in 190 and something so called soverign states. To hell with that sovereignty! 'The hell' is not a universal notion, though.

Previous NIGD Reflections:
http://blog.spinellisfootsteps.info/post/2008/12/09/NIGD-Reflections

Where the hell is that? Here:

Of the old flame forthwith the greater horn
Began to roll, murmuring, as a fire
That labours with the wind, then to and fro
Wagging the top, as a tongue uttering sounds,
Threw out its voice, and spake: "When I escap'd
From Circe, who beyond a circling year
Had held me near Caieta, by her charms,
Ere thus Aeneas yet had nam'd the shore,
Nor fondness for my son, nor reverence
Of my old father, nor return of love,
That should have crown'd Penelope with joy,
Could overcome in me the zeal I had
T' explore the world, and search the ways of life,
Man's evil and his virtue.  Forth I sail'd
Into the deep illimitable main,
With but one bark, and the small faithful band
That yet cleav'd to me.  As Iberia far,
Far as Morocco either shore I saw,
And the Sardinian and each isle beside
Which round that ocean bathes.  Tardy with age
Were I and my companions, when we came
To the strait pass, where Hercules ordain'd
The bound'ries not to be o'erstepp'd by man.
The walls of Seville to my right I left,
On the' other hand already Ceuta past.
"O brothers!"  I began, "who to the west
Through perils without number now have reach'd,
To this the short remaining watch, that yet
Our senses have to wake, refuse not proof
Of the unpeopled world, following the track
Of Phoebus. Call to mind from whence we sprang:
Ye were not form'd to live the life of brutes
But virtue to pursue and knowledge high."
With these few words I sharpen'd for the voyage
The mind of my associates, that I then
Could scarcely have withheld them.  To the dawn
Our poop we turn'd, and for the witless flight
Made our oars wings, still gaining on the left.
Each star of the' other pole night now beheld,
And ours so low, that from the ocean-floor
It rose not.  Five times re-illum'd, as oft
Vanish'd the light from underneath the moon
Since the deep way we enter'd, when from far
Appear'd a mountain dim, loftiest methought
Of all I e'er beheld.  Joy seiz'd us straight,
But soon to mourning changed.  From the new land
A whirlwind sprung, and at her foremost side
Did strike the vessel.  Thrice it whirl'd her round
With all the waves, the fourth time lifted up
The poop, and sank the prow: so fate decreed:
And over us the booming billow clos'd."
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/8789/8789-h/p8.htm#26