Look closer at the globe.
From a distance it is a sphere. Up close it is nothing of the sort. It is a few hundred separate pieces, each holding a colour borrowed from a flag, and every one of them is a different shape.
Nothing here blends.
The pieces do not fade into one another. The white seams between them are deliberate. A room only holds together when the disagreements are visible instead of painted over, and that is as true of a committee as it is of a logo.
Held together without being ground down.
Delegates arrive as separate, unmatching pieces. The entire job is fitting them into something that holds, without filing anybody's edges off to make them fit. Get that right and the sphere closes. Get it wrong and you have a pile of tiles.
One piece takes no side.
Near the centre sits a single tile in flat, neutral grey. Every other piece belongs to a flag. That one belongs to nobody. It is the chair. Our job is to hold the seams and keep the floor fair, then get out of the way, because the outcome is decided by the room and never by us.
You are looking straight at it