Unlike eggs or dairy products, works of nonfiction generally don't have an expiration date. Still, although author Jeremy Rifkin would beg to differ, his book The European Dream: How Europe's Vision of the Future Is Quietly Eclipsing the American Dream probably passed its "best before" date about two months ago.

In his 434-page tome, Rifkin argues that America's capitalist model is outdated, the U.S. economy is not as robust as people believe, and the American population has become disillusioned with the American Dream's promise of success for all those who work hard enough.

Europeans, on the other hand, are onto something. They dream of inclusivity, sustainable development and quality of life. Their multicultural model celebrates diversity rather than suppressing it the way the American melting pot does. "Europe's strength is that each culture is a gift to share," says Rifkin.

But what happens when the gifts being shared are bombs left in metro stations?

To be fair, The European Dream came out in the United States one year ago, well before the London bombings. The Czech translation, however, is hot off the press. So people reading the book with the London terrorist bombings still a fresh, gaping wound in their collective memory, and the European Union's inability to agree on a single constitution at the back of their minds, may find that Rifkin's arguments elicit a constant stream of "buts" and "what-ifs."

Rifkin, an economist by training, was in Prague last week on a promotional tour for the book. He held court in the lobby of the comunist-era concrete-clad Hotel InterContinental, where Czech reporters took turns filling pre-arranged interview slots while Euro pop played on the speakers and snatches of conversations in German, English and French mingled with one another.

It was an odd scene: Rifkin, an American, trying to sell Europeans on the European dream. And he readily admits that contemporary Europe has its share of problems. The European dream, he says, is "thin, weak and embryonic" but holds a great deal of potential. "It's the first dream I know of in all of history that attends global consciousness," he says, adding the caveat that when it comes to immigration and integration, Europe needs to do better. Hope, Rifkin says, lies with the young people.

According to a survey cited in The European Dream, about one-third of all Europeans between the ages of 18 and 31 say they feel European first. "That's a sea change in less than 50 years," Rifkin says. And he has just the idea for seizing this changing climate.

The youth of former Eastern bloc countries can play a key role in this transformation. "The young people here can be the new blood, the new vitality for Europe that can help bridge the European and the American Dream and provide Europe with fresh, new energy," Rifkin says. "We need young Europeans asking what they can do to make Europe a global public square."

Rifkin envisions a sort of Europeanized Peace Corps, wherein native Europeans and immigrants share each other's cultures, learn from one another and engage in constant dialogue.

"You may say, 'I don't like this male-female gender stuff in Islam,' and they'll say, 'Hey, I don't like all this heathenism you have in Europe.'" Rifkin's voice gets excited at this point. "Wrestle with it! Share bread! Struggle! That's the best way to embrace immigration."

In Rifkin's view, the European dream has been 50 years in the making. Given recent events, he admits that the momentum has slowed. But Europeans should give themselves more credit, he says.

"You're always so critical of yourselves. But look at what you've done: people working together, boundaries are down, young people sharing each other's cultures. Is there rivalry? Yes. Is there still prejudice? Yes. But, boy, this is a lot more open than anyone would have guessed."