UNESCO: Saving the World Heritage

UNESCO: Saving the World Heritage might sound like the title of a superhero comic for culture nerds, but it’s real, it’s happening, and it’s been going strong since 1945. Right after the Second World War had left large parts of the globe in various states of ash and confusion, a bunch of idealists got together and said, “Let’s try peace through education, science and culture.” Because what better way to stop wars than by protecting monasteries, ancient libraries, and Mongolian throat singing? And also because after that much bombing, saving buildings suddenly felt rather urgent.

The headquarters, naturally, had to be in Paris. If you’re going to set up an international body that eats croissants while debating which cathedral deserves global status, where else would you go? Since 1958, that’s where the bureaucratic magic happens—within a large, Y-shaped modernist building that looks a bit like a Bond villain’s lair but with better intentions. The architects called it the “three-pointed star,” which is either poetic or slightly menacing depending on your caffeine level.

UNESCO now has 193 member states. That’s basically the whole world minus a few outliers and islands that might still be checking their emails. Plus 11 associate members who couldn’t resist the cultural glamour but aren’t technically independent. Imagine the VIP lounge of global diplomacy—everyone’s there, sipping metaphorical wine and arguing about cave paintings. Meetings probably smell of international compromise and vintage paper.

World Heritage Sites are UNESCO’s crown jewels. As of this year, there are more than 1,199 of them scattered across 168 countries. They range from the majestic (like the Taj Mahal) to the marvellous (like Machu Picchu) to the moderately bewildering (like a 20th-century German coal mine that’s apparently very historically significant). For every awe-inspiring site like Petra or Angkor Wat, there’s a lesser-known marvel with a fascinating backstory that involves floods, restoration efforts, and local legends involving sheep.

The first two sites to make the list were the Galápagos Islands and the historic centre of Quito in 1978. Quite the pair, really. One has finches, the other has colonial architecture and altitude sickness. Since then, UNESCO’s list has grown into the world’s fanciest travel bucket list. It’s also the only one with rules about authenticity, integrity, and sometimes llamas.

But it’s not just bricks and landscapes. UNESCO also loves the ephemeral. The Intangible Cultural Heritage list is where the really quirky stuff lives. Over 730 elements have made it, from falconry and Turkish coffee to yoga and the whirling dervishes. It’s a catalogue of human creativity that doesn’t fit into a museum but absolutely deserves to be shouted about. You don’t need a ticket to experience it—just a good sense of timing and maybe a local grandma willing to teach you embroidery.

Speaking of shouting, there’s also Mongolian throat singing. Yes, that’s on the list. So is the making of Neapolitan pizza, which means your Friday night takeaway has, technically, international protection. It’s a wonderfully democratic way of saying culture isn’t just something dusty and old—it’s also loud, delicious and occasionally involves three chords and a goat. Other intangibles include traditional boatbuilding, puppet theatre, and ceremonial horseback archery, because apparently history never heard of health and safety regulations.

UNESCO’s reach extends to the written word, too. The Memory of the World Programme, started in 1992, protects important documents and records. This includes the Diary of Anne Frank, the Magna Carta, and other bits of paper that shaped humanity without being nailed to anything dramatic. It’s the history nerd’s equivalent of a platinum record shelf. There’s even a section for sound and audiovisual archives, meaning that somewhere in the annals of UNESCO is a cassette tape that changed lives.

Biosphere Reserves are UNESCO’s way of hugging trees diplomatically. Since 1971, the Man and the Biosphere Programme has named 748 such reserves across 134 countries. These places balance humans and nature—although sometimes the humans get a little too enthusiastic and need a stern UNESCO reminder. From Amazonian rainforest to Arctic tundra, the list reads like a who’s who of Earth’s best ecological overachievers. Each reserve is a real-time experiment in not ruining everything.

Urban creativity gets its spotlight, too. Since 2004, the Creative Cities Network has linked over 350 cities that excel in music, film, literature, design, gastronomy and more. It’s like Tinder for municipalities with an artistic streak. Dublin writes novels, Parma cooks, Berlin DJs. Everyone has a talent. Even little-known cities like Icheon, South Korea, get a spot on the list for their exquisite ceramics.

In terms of sheer cash, UNESCO runs on a biennial budget of around $1.4 billion. That may sound massive until you realise that a single blockbuster movie can cost more. UNESCO prefers slow-burn impact: libraries over lasers, literacy over explosions. It’s the quiet cousin in the UN family, the one that doesn’t shout but ends up holding everything together.

The organisation takes education so seriously it might as well hand out homework at the General Assembly. Its Education for All campaign works to ensure access to learning in even the remotest parts of the globe. Girls’ education gets a huge push, because someone has to fix the world and girls seem up to the task. It’s the kind of global homework project that never ends but really should.

To keep track of how that’s going, the UNESCO Institute for Statistics crunches global data on education, science, culture and communication. If you ever need to know how many girls in Central Asia completed secondary school while listening to the radio and learning embroidery—chances are, they’ve got a spreadsheet for that. And probably a colourful infographic, too.

It’s not all spreadsheets and policy memos, though. UNESCO also swoops in when disaster strikes. After conflicts, natural disasters or a burst of sudden political stupidity, they help restore cultural heritage. Think of the city of Palmyra in Syria, or Timbuktu’s ancient manuscripts. It’s international archaeology with a side of diplomacy and a hard hat. They also train locals to safeguard heritage, so when the next mess arrives, at least someone knows which mosaic not to step on.

The organisation’s more recent ventures into tech have made it surprisingly hip. Partnerships with Google and Microsoft have helped digitise manuscripts, build online museums and create learning platforms. Not quite TikTok, but your aunt who reads National Geographic would be very impressed. And with AI entering the scene, there’s talk of algorithms helping to track endangered languages or detect heritage site damage from satellite images. Very futuristic, very UNESCO.

In 2011, they declared 13 February World Radio Day, presumably so we all remember that FM still exists and podcasts weren’t always a thing. Radio remains the most accessible medium for millions worldwide, especially where internet speeds still resemble dial-up from 1997. In places where newspapers can’t reach and streaming services buffer eternally, radio still gets through.

UNESCO doesn’t stop at earth and air—it also goes underground. The Global Geoparks initiative protects unique geological areas, blending science and tourism in a way that somehow makes rocks interesting. Currently, 195 sites in 48 countries wear the geopark badge with pride. It’s geology with flair, where tectonic plates get the attention they’ve long deserved.

It also runs the UNESCO Chairs Programme. Over 850 institutions in more than 110 countries take part in this academic love-in, sharing expertise on everything from climate change to human rights. It’s basically a global think tank without the bad PowerPoints. Each chair connects universities to real-world problems with actual solutions—plus the occasional international conference with excellent snacks.

At the heart of it all, UNESCO sticks like glue to the Sustainable Development Goals. Education sits right at number 4, but they chip in across the board—clean water, climate action, gender equality. If the UN had a conscience, this is what it would sound like. There’s no cape involved, but there’s definitely a spreadsheet.

Yet not everything is sunshine and postcards. Countries have left and rejoined, arguments break out over what counts as culture, and some heritage sites end up on the ‘in danger’ list faster than you can say “bulldozer.” Corruption, looting, and bad planning still pose constant threats. But somehow, UNESCO keeps showing up with a clipboard and a stubborn optimism.

Still, for all its alphabet soup of programmes and committees, UNESCO gives the world something quite precious: a shared cultural memory. In an age of rapid forgetting and faster scrolling, that’s no small feat. It reminds us that civilisation is worth curating—not just surviving, but celebrating.

So next time you admire a temple in Kyoto, listen to fado in Lisbon, or learn that kimchi-making has global recognition, just whisper a quiet thank you to the organisation saving the world heritage one spreadsheet, song, or soup bowl at a time. And maybe, just maybe, pay that entry fee to the museum with a little more enthusiasm.