We use cookies to distinguish you from other users and to provide you with a better experience on our websites. Close this message to accept cookies or find out how to manage your cookie settings.
To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure [email protected]
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
This article explores the legal structures and discursive framings informing the governance of one particular “backward” region of India, the Andaman Islands. I trace the shifting patterns of occupation and development of the islands in the colonial and postcolonial periods, with a focus on the changes wrought by independence in 1947 and the eventual history of planned development there. I demonstrate how intersecting discourses of indigenous savagery/primitivism and the geographical emptiness were repeatedly mobilized in colonial-era surveys and postcolonial policy documents. Postcolonial visions of developing the Andaman Islands ushered in a settler-colonial governmentality, infused with genocidal fantasies of the “dying savage.” Laws professing to protect aboriginal Jarawas actually worked to unilaterally extend Indian sovereignty over the lands and bodies of a community clearly hostile to such incorporation. I question the current exclusion of India from the global geographies of settler-colonialism and argue that the violent and continuing history of indigenous marginalization in the Andaman Islands represents a de facto operation of a logic of terra nullius.
The Habsburg takeover of Ottoman Bosnia Herzegovina (1878–1918) is conventionally considered the entry of this province into the European realm and the onset of its modernization. Treating the transition from one empire to another not as a radical break, but as in many respects continuity, reveals that the imperial context provided for the existence of overlapping affiliations that shaped the means by which modernity was mediated and embodied in the local experience. Drawing on Bosnian and Ottoman sources, this article analyzes Bosnian intellectuals’ conceptions of their particular Muslim modernity in a European context. It comparatively evaluates the ways in which they integrated the modernist discourse that developed in the Ottoman Empire and the broader Muslim world, and how they also contributed to that discourse. I show that their concern with modernity was not abstract but rather focused on concrete solutions that the Muslim modernists developed to challenges in transforming their societies. I argue that we must incorporate Islamic intellectual history, and cross-regional exchanges within it, to understand southeastern Europe's past and present, and that studies of Europe and the Middle East need to look beyond geohistorical and disciplinary divisions.
Victims of colonial, Indigenous child-removal policies have attracted public expressions of compassion from Indigenous and settler-state political leaders in Canada since the 1990s. This public compassion has fueled legal and political mechanisms, leveraging resources for standardized interventions said to “heal” these victims: cash payments, a truth-telling forum, therapy. These claims to healing provide an entry-point for analyzing how and why the figure of the Indigenous child-victim, past and present, is morally and politically useful for settler-states and their public cultures. I use the formulation of “settler-humanitarianism” to express how liberal interventions of care and protection, intended to ameliorate Indigenous suffering, align with settler-colonialism's enduring goal of Indigenous elimination (Wolfe 2006). Removal of Indigenous children was integral to the late nineteenth-century formation of the Canadian and Australian settler-states. Missionaries and colonial administrators represented these practices as humanitarian rescue from depraved familial conditions. Settler-humanitarians have long employed universalizing moral registers, such as “idleness” and “neglect,” to compel state interventions into Indigenous families. More recently, “trauma” has emerged as a humanitarian signifier compelling urgent action. These settler-humanitarian registers do political work. Decontextualized representations of Indigenous children as victims negate children as social actors, obscure the particularities of how collective Indigenous suffering flows from settler-colonial dispossession, and oppose children's interests with those of their kin, community, and nation. I analyze how and why Aboriginal healing as settler-humanitarianism has been taken up by many Indigenous leaders alongside settler-state agents, and examine the ongoing social and political effects of the material and discursive interventions it has spawned.
The archives of French India and French Guiana, two colonies that were failing by the mid-nineteenth century, elucidate the legacy of colonial linguistics by drawing attention to the ideological and technological natures of colonial printing and the far-reaching and longstanding consequences of the European objectification of Indian vernaculars. Torn between religious, commercial, and imperialist agendas, the French in India both promoted Catholicism and advanced the scientific study of Tamil, the majority language spoken in the colonial headquarters of Pondicherry. There, a little known press operated by the Paris Foreign Missions shipped seventy-one dictionaries, grammars, and theological works printed in Tamil and French to Catholic schools undergoing secularization in French Guiana, a colony with several thousand Tamil indentured laborers. I analyze the books’ lexical, orthographic, and typographical forms, metalinguistic commentaries, publicity tactics, citational practices, and circulation histories by drawing on seldom-discussed materials from the Archives nationales d'outre-mer in Aix-en-Provence, France. I propose a theoretical framework to investigate how technology intersects with the historical relationship between language and colonialism, and argue that printing rivalries contributed to Orientalist knowledge production by institutionalizing semiotic and language ideologies about the nature of “perfectible” and “erroneous” signs. My comparative approach highlights the interdiscursive features of different genres and historical periods of Tamil documentation, and underscores how texts that emerged out of disparate religious and scientific movements questioned the veracity of knowledge and fidelity of sources. Such metalinguistic labor exposed the evolving stances of French Indologists toward Dravidian and Indo-Aryan linguistics and promoted religious and secular interests in educational and immigration policies.
Scholars have long tracked how the USSR, a laboratory of social engineering, was deeply informed by local readings of Marxist social theory. Why, then, in recent years, have so many historical and anthropological studies of Russia excluded “Marxist” from the list of main descriptors, or optics, through which they view their material? In this essay, I argue that in much contemporary scholarship Marxism and its many afterlives have evidenced a kind of blind spot, reducing Marxism to “just” an ideology. I assert that rediscovering the presence of Marxism in Russia as a Gramscian hegemonic process and a vernacular that emerged among “laymen” can help us understand how a wide range of Russians continue to make sense of their worlds today. Drawing on several years of research in the city of Perm, I interpret everyday conversations among middle-age urbanites about morality, and demonstrate how this rediscovery of Marxism can elucidate what things matter for Russians today, and how. If social scientists proceed by acknowledging that “professional” and “lay” social knowledge increasingly share sources of “theoretical” inspiration, then we face a range of narrative challenges.
A product of the nineteenth-century age of “isms,” authoritarianism describes a worldview that promotes the establishment of a hierarchical relation whereby one person or group dominates and governs another without recourse to either physical force or persuasion. Authoritarianism is the advocacy of authority as a source or origin that compels voluntary obedience without question. A person has authority if he or she can command someone to do something without having to do anything other than issue a command; which is to say that the person who obeys recognizes the authority of the person who commands as legitimate or correct. The word authority comes from the Latin, auctoritas, which Cicero employs to characterize the distinctive influence of the Senate in ancient Rome: “Power is with the people, authority with the Senate.” Whereas power (potestas) is political and relies on force or persuasion to command obedience, authority enjoys unequivocal obedience as a source beyond the contested realm of politics.
This book examines the home and leisure life of planters in the antebellum American South. Based on a lifetime of research by the late Eugene Genovese (1930–2012), with an introduction and epilogue by Douglas Ambrose, The Sweetness of Life presents a penetrating study of slaveholders and their families in both intimate and domestic settings: at home; attending the theatre; going on vacations to spas and springs; throwing parties; hunting; gambling; drinking and entertaining guests, completing a comprehensive portrait of the slaveholders and the world that they built with slaves. Genovese subtly but powerfully demonstrates how much politics, economics, and religion shaped, informed, and made possible these leisure activities. A fascinating investigation of a little-studied aspect of planter life, The Sweetness of Life broadens our understanding of the world that the slaveholders and their slaves made; a tragic world of both 'sweetness' and slavery.
In this chapter the authors explore stakeholders’ understanding of what to do with organic waste within the United Kingdom. They discuss two projects that were both commissioned and funded under the same government research programme specifically to support policymaking. Although looking at the same broad environmental sustainability issue of how to treat organic waste as a resource to be exploited rather than a waste product to be disposed of, the two projects use mapping and involve participants in different ways. Both projects also highlight how the use of quantitative survey data is informed by, and in turn informs, the use of diagrams within the overall methodology. The authors also look at these projects through the different ways diagrams can be used that were discussed in Chapter Two.
Introduction
Throughout the 20th century, particularly in developed countries, the use of organic waste, either from food production, processing and consumption, or of green waste from gardening and horticulture was dominated by either very local reuse (for example, household composting, spreading of cow manure on farm land); burning (incineration) or disposal into landfill sites; or feeding to animals, particularly pigs. While very local reuse still continues to some degree today, there has been concern from scientists, environmentalists and policymakers over the contribution of both burning and landfill to emissions of green house gases and leachates. This, among other issues, has led in the past 20 years to a growing range of statutory requirements, notably within the European Union (EU), to reuse and recycle more organic waste rather than send it to landfill. Further, livestock diseases, such as foot and mouth outbreaks caused by poorly treated/contaminated foodstuffs, have led to tighter regulations on the treatment and disposal of animal by-products within the EU. Similarly, significant changes in the practices and habits of food production, processing and consumption have influenced the public's and politicians’ perspectives on what to do about food waste, with policy and practice on reducing and recycling waste in a more sustainable manner occurring at household, community, regional, national and international levels.
This chapter draws on our experiences in two projects of contrasting scope and scale but both focused on organic wastes and where the use of mapping techniques was a central or key part of the research process and the research outcomes.
This book is based on the collective work of academics from The Open University in the United Kingdom who have been teaching about and researching complex environmental situations using systems concepts, techniques and theories for over 30 years. These techniques have particularly included the use of mapping or diagramming to visually explore, create, enquire, and communicate people's thinking and perceptions (throughout the book we use the words mapping and diagramming interchangeably to describe the visualisation practices discussed further in Chapter Two). From our experience of using mapping extensively within our research and teaching practice, and of supervising and examining many research students, we observed that there is a distinct lack of publications that provide practical examples and reflections on actual research projects and what happens in the practice of conducting research generally, and in particular when and how they use diagrams. Further, we found the majority of research publications, book chapters and journal articles dealing with complex environmental situations involving many stakeholders provide straightforward accounts of the methods used. They ignore the ‘messiness’ of the processes used, and the specific practices of the researchers are rarely analysed or explained in sufficient detail to be of more practical use to other researchers. They also do not provide an account of how such diagramming practices evolve over time, either within specific projects or within the working lives of the researcher themselves. These trajectories provide additional insights into how, as researchers, we intertwine theory and practice in understanding about, and acting in, complex environmental situations.
Diagramming in research not only represents and helps to explore the messiness, but also enables the researcher(s) to draw out and build on multiple perspectives on an issue. Involving users and non-researchers in research processes is increasingly widely accepted and is often required by research funders (see Lyall et al, 2015), particularly within the field of environmental sustainability where people need to interact to bring about desirable changes. Yet again, there is little critique on the realities and messiness of engaging people in this type of participatory, or action-orientated, research where researchers research with people rather than on people. Recently environmental researchers engaged in this type of research have begun to reflect more critically on their practices.
In this chapter we are told the story of longstanding and ongoing research on natural resource management working with Indigenous forest communities in South America. The authors included here represent the range of people that Andrea Berardi and Jay Mistry, as lead authors, have worked with over the years. Their biographies can be found at the front of this book and reading these is considered by the lead authors to be important for a full understanding of their research story. The authors consider their experiences, their challenges and the ethics involved in what they did. Like the other examples in this book, their research drew heavily from systems theories and, as with previous chapters, the authors describe the way that their research processes evolved over time. In this case, moving away from their quantitative origins and becoming increasingly more visual and inclusive over time. This chapter places diagramming within the wider context of visual approaches more generally. Going beyond diagramming, the authors explain how they developed visual techniques relevant for their particular context, including (and combining) video, drawings and photo stories as well as diagramming. Here they explain the way that their approach and use of visual techniques helped to strengthen the capabilities of marginalised people.
Introduction
For over 15 years, the authors of this chapter have been engaged with the Indigenous communities of the North Rupununi, Guyana, in working through complex natural resource management dilemmas. Over time, we have developed a critically reflective approach to collaborative research with Indigenous community members in order to evaluate the type of research methods and techniques we apply, to reposition power relationships in the research processes, and analyse the immediate and long-term impact of the research intervention on participants. Why do researchers and participants engage in the use of visual methods? What are their differential motivations and how does this affect decision making during the research process? Who participates in and benefits from this research? What is the role of technology? How are Indigenous people's rights and knowledges taken into account and advanced? How do visual methods contribute to transformative change and social justice? With what limits?
This chapter provides a stark contrast to the previous chapters dealing with the practice of using diagrams in participatory research. The author steps back to look at his development over many years of some diagrammatic representations of core systems principles and ideas discussed in Chapter Two; diagrammatic representations that can be used for evaluating diagramming as praxis in environmental sustainability. This braiding of theory and practice, including braiding between systems ideas and diagramming, is aimed at providing a robust and comprehensive approach to evaluation, which is an increasingly important part of all funded projects and programmes. We have seen in other chapters how funders and stakeholders are looking for ‘measurable’ outcomes or impacts from many of the projects being described in terms of changes to policy and/or practice. However, in this chapter the author examines what types of ‘conversation’ are needed in different situations in order to evaluate diagramming used in environmental sustainability projects and programmes.
Introduction
Since the beginning of the millennium, increasing concern has been expressed among researchers, wanting to influence policymakers, programme commissioners, commissioners of evaluations, and evaluators, about failures with interventions addressing complex environmental issues (Fukasaku, 2000) and about sustainable development issues more widely (Ramalingam, 2013). While many helpful discussions have emerged on the relevance of systems based and complexity-based approaches towards evaluation (Williams and Imam, 2007; Forss et al, 2011; Reynolds et al, 2012), commissioners and evaluators alike have expressed concern about the lack of uptake of new ideas (Stern et al, 2012; Befani et al, 2015). Relevant stakeholders appear to be talking past each other. Prevailing evidence-based approaches and contingency approaches to planning and evaluation appear not to be providing the way for valuing systems thinking generally, and visual based techniques specifically. The urgency of developing alternative ways of using research for planning and evaluating using different tools and ideas have increased markedly with the publication of The 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development (United Nations, 2015) and associated implementation of the sustainable development goals (SDGs) in succession to the 2000–15 millennium development goals (MDGs).
Researching into systemic failure associated with complex situations of environmental sustainability involves many different interactions among many different entities (human and non-human).
Collaborating with others is central to participatory methods, as we have seen in previous chapters. However, the nature of the collaboration and the role that diagrams play in the methods used also depends in part on the topic being addressed. This chapter tells the story of how a systems method for sharing perspectives on and then agreeing sustainability indicators, which makes extensive use of two forms of diagram, was conceived and then applied in a wide variety of places. Central to this method's evolution were the intentions of its initial creators and the contributions of the different project collaborators and participants in the related workshops. Central to the method's effectiveness are the way two diagram types are used to visualise, and make more relevant to specified communities, indicators of environmental sustainability. This chapter is also another example of the interplay between method and visualisation, both of the method and within the method, and that it can be difficult to say which is the chicken and which is the egg. They are complementary parts of an holistic and ongoing process, particularly where the main objective is action to improve people's lives rather than research on people's lived experiences.
Beginning at the beginning
The story begins in 1999. Professor Steve Morse and I had met at the University of East Anglia (UEA) in Norwich, UK, and found compatibility in our worldviews despite working in different fields. I was exploring the use of systems analysis specifically relating to ICT. Steve was focused on the human impacts of agricultural innovation. We both worked in West Africa and were painfully aware of the regular mis-steps made by international aid agencies in their often clumsy interfaces with local people (see Sumberg et al, 2012). Where aid and development projects came face to face with local people there was often/usually a communication chasm – well-intended scientists non-communicating with local populations in what was often experienced as a complex non-iterative process (see, for example, Chambers, 1997; Fisher and Green, 2004; Cooke and Kothari, 2001). Why was this important to us at this time? First, we both saw that a key issue for us was communities and engaging with them. Second, we had, again separately, been working on metrics and measurement.
In this chapter the authors draw on their experiences over many years of research into social learning systems. They focus particularly on communities of practice as social learning systems and reflect on their experiences of using diagramming to map and share understandings and develop knowledge in such systems, mainly in the context of water governance and climate change. The authors have used diagramming techniques as a core part of their research, building on a range of systemic and participatory traditions that are a prime focus of this book. They explain and reflect on how their experiences with diagrams have been an essential part of various action-oriented research processes that have been designed to take a systemic approach to understanding the institutional, biophysical, social and economic dynamics associated with managing water resources, climate adaptation and the related issues of governance.
Introduction
Communities of practice (CoPs) have become well known and popular among academics and other practitioners (see also Chapter Four). Both the concept of a CoP and its enactment appear to provide explanatory power and create value for many when used for social learning activities such as creating knowledge together, and stimulating change (Wenger et al, 2011). CoPs reached encyclopaedia status in the context of information and knowledge management over a decade ago (Coakes and Clarke, 2006) and a quick internet search provides evidence that they remain relevant to large numbers of practitioners.
In this chapter we are concerned with practices of relevance to environmental sustainability in the context of water and with those who are engaging in them or facilitating these practices. The process and role of making visual representations, specifically diagramming, is explored here as a part of these engagement or facilitation processes. We argue that diagramming can be used in the context of CoPs as tools for communication and for exploring ideas and meanings both collectively and individually. The use of appropriate tools for communication and negotiating meanings associated with practice has long been recognised as an essential part of the shared repertoire of any community of practice (Wenger, 1998).
In this chapter the authors provide an overview of systems thinking in practice, the key concepts involved in it and in particular the role of mapping in addressing complex situations. While the chapter touches on all four themes of the book it focuses mainly on the systems thinking philosophy that underpins the work of nearly all the authors in this book; how that philosophy relates to the use of diagramming to capture systemic thinking; and how to engage research participants in trying to think more systemically. It finishes with some more practical advice on the use of diagrams in general and within participatory and action-oriented modes of research in particular.
Introduction
Complexity and uncertainty can be features of any human activity system but this is more so when considering environmental situations and environmental sustainability (Ison, 2010). The number of facts and factors involved, the number of people with different perspectives and disciplinary expertise, all grow larger and seemingly more intractable. To be able to represent a complex messy situation by showing most of the components and how they are thought to fit and work together is therefore very helpful when understanding, researching, designing and implementing systemic changes that draw upon and integrate the thinking from many disciplines.
Systems thinking in practice is a particular way of approaching the understanding of messy situations for some purpose, usually to effect some changes. It is very suited to participatory, action-oriented research and environmental sustainability and is a philosophy that underpins both the teaching and research praxis of the many authors in this book. By praxis we mean the process by which a theory is enacted, embodied, or realised. Drawing on some basic features of systems thinking (see Chapman, 2004; Midgley, 2007), we can identify three generic imperatives as underpinning systems thinking in practice (Reynolds, 2011; 2013; 2014; Reynolds and Holwell, 2010):
• understanding inter-relationships (‘thinking’ about the bigger picture)
• engaging with multiple perspectives (the ‘practice’ of joined-up thinking)
• reflecting on boundary judgements (the praxis of thinking in practice).
A key feature is that one part of the praxis around systems thinking is finding ways of representing a chosen ‘system of interest’, and that is often best done through diagrams, maps or other visual techniques.