maandag 11 mei 2020

My Fingertips Bleed Intimacy

It struck me that Susan Leigh Star poem on p. 106 may be the ultimate description of our situation.

The first stanza describes our desire to get in touch with someone over the internet, on Kaltura, Zoom or MS Office, while the second stanza evokes how the experience of Skyping, Typing & Zooming leaves our bodies (shoulders, spines & arms) ruined, broken and aching (instead of caressed). 

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The virus has made us all into untouchables. 

And strangely, the technology that we are supposed to stay in touch with one another (and with our students) is named after the sense which it means to replace: that of touch, of the use of our digits. Fingertips that are (as Star puts it) bleeding from the intimacy they keep searching. 

Intending to care

María Puig de la Bellacasa's interesting, but surprisingly dense book Matters of Care, is a passionate defense for rethinking care and ethics beyond previous anthropocentric standards. Ethics is a rather normative moral obligations, certain sets of rules of behavior, yet PdlB wants a "thick, pure, involvement in a world" (6). Care cannot be reduced to ethics she says and so it reles to an active involvement in the world, which she then connects to a certain intentionality, the experience of something about. PdlB goes further than mere experience and sees "to care" as an active, collective actor, opposed to the more passive and worrysome "to be concerned" (42). 
To care (and first be concerned perhaps) is a rather hard to define category in relation to intentionality, since one has to be aware to care. Especially when concerning care to non-humans (say animals) PdlB relates this to Donna Haraway in a sense of "Thinking-for". I have a hard time directly translating her thought to the world around us, since her thought is very noble and earnest, yet it seems such a paradoxical approach when she decenters a "we" and yet intents so personally, moving away from "the big picture" of traditional ethics and yet still "think for." 
At that, people (yes, humans in this case) can ask inhowfar their responsibility from (vanuit) their humanity and "human-ness" goes, for then they tend to anthropomorphize the Other/Non-human, through this thinking-for. Opening up the debate by breaking the duality of people vs. other is a thought that I love, but I'm completely stuck on her methods. How would we reformulate people-minded ethics when intentions clash? Think for example of the Brazilian Rainforest, in which ecological intents clash with economical intentions and Bolsonaro's (ridiculous) idea of Brazil's government's forest propriety clashes with the native tribes that still live their. At the same time, Bolsonaro forgets about wildlife and even the rights of the forest itself. 
Ethics-wise, this is an open and shut case, but then caring must go further than concerning. Where does PdlB directly place the active agency of care and reformulate ethics then? 

The Pain of The Dutch Landscape

María Puig de la Bellacasa chapter 5 "Soil Times" in Matters of Care reminded me about a talk I had heard last year by the Dutch journalist Jantien de Boer about her new book Landschapspijn. The concept of "Landschapspijn," which can be roughly translated as 'landscape pain', details the undernourishment of the senses by the surrounding landscape (de Boer). Most farmland is turning into a green desert with no biodiversity; instead, the land is reserved for the species which can sustain the massive uptake the farming industry demands of them. I really liked the way de Boer highlights, especially after reading Matters of Care, the way it affects all senses, and not just sight, since, for example, one is unable to hear the wide variety of birds that once were, and when one touches and digs through the soil of the pastures it looks dead, rather than crawling with life as it should. The pain emanating from these sights is a powerful connection between "more than human worlds", and it can inspire one to value and care for these landscapes. In Puig de la Bellacasa's words, "it obliges in ways embedded in everyday doings and agencies; it obliges because it is inherent to relations of interdependency" (120). The landscapes cannot recover on their own; rather, it is a call to us to acknowledge our responsibility in caring for them or to neglect that intervention where necessary.
         Furthermore, such thinking is also a way to re-frame, and re-orientate oneself, in more abstract debates, such as that of the current nitrogen crisis ongoing in the Netherlands at the moment. This crisis is framed in terms of the timeline of productivity. Still, the call from the landscape itself opens up a space to regard this crisis in a different way, by also taking other worlds, and timelines, into account. Technology might not be the answer to this issue; instead, care can open up a new space where value can be given to different ways to engage with the landscape surrounding us.

Sources:
Boer, Jantien de. “Jantien de Boer over Landschapspijn: ‘Het Is Hier Doodstil, met De Nadruk op         Dood.’” Down to Earth, Down to Earth Magazine, 28 October 2017,                     v               https://downtoearthmagazine.nl/jantien-de-boer-landschapspijn/


Puig de la Bellacasa, María. Matters of Care: Speculative Ethics in more than Human Worlds.
 University of Minnesota Press, 2017.

Doing research with care in times of crisis


In the early 2010’s, the replication crisis struck the sciences, especially the social and medical sciences. By now, the crisis has been declared to be an ongoing methodological crisis. As a cure, researchers have thought of open science as the new framework to end the reproducibility crisis. Questionable research practices are identified and fraudulent researchers are punished. According to many, the new open science framework should be the new standard of practising research: open data open source, open methodology, open peer review, open access and open educational resources. Open science may get right what the ‘old’ science got wrong.

If I turn to Puig’s notion of ‘touching visions’, I wonder if the trying to get it right instead of trying to take care may be a big drawback for the sciences. Open science offers ways of direct accessibility of research and feedback from fellow researchers. Therefore, it may fit quite nicely within a time and culture that is radically turned to an investment into a future of outputs and return, the epitome of efficiency. The question is what is the value of the output and return that we receive. Knowledge, as Barad argues, does not come from standing at a distance and representing the world but rather from a direct material engagement with the world. Therefore, if the dominant sensorial universe in science stays that of vision as seeing is believing, I am doubting if open science is able to take care of world-making. Following Puig, there are alternative ways of seeing, arguing for touch as a matter of involvement and committed knowledge. Knowing practices engage in adding relations to a world by involvement in touching and being touched by what we observe. If reality is a process of intra-active touch, then science may have to feel for/ with the inter-dependency and relationality of things and beings in the more-than-human world. Committed knowledge may be less elucidating than knowledge at a distance, and more affecting, touching and being touched, for better or worse. I wonder if 'touching visions' is a taking care in science that keeps in touch with political and ethical questions at stake in scientific and other academic conversations. A different world of science to imagine.

Care, Wildlife Market and Soil


The reciprocal and relational dimension of care delineates another way for collective connectivity deeply situated in the everyday occurrences. Personally speaking, the significance of care conceptualized by María Puig de la Bellacasa is that she managed to astutely accentuate the hidden yet productive connections beyond human agencies, without discharging the ethical responsibilities and accountabilities of human beings. 

1 wildlife market and COVID-19

As a zoonotic global disease, the highly-debated discussion centering around COVID-19 has in a way offered one specific dynamic space to unfold the entanglements of various agencies living together on the planet. The seafood wholesale market in Wuhan, which has been believed as the source of the COVID-19 pandemic by many, arose many discussions in the public sphere since January. Not only selling seafood, the market also had a large wild animal section where live and slaughtered species were for sale, for instance, snakes, beavers, porcupines, pangolin, civet cats, bat, and baby crocodiles. With an expensive price, the meat of wildlife has been considered as the presentable luxury and precious traditional medicine for most buyers. 

On the one hand, increasingly convenient logistics channels and the overall development of technology make wildlife trade more efficient. On the other hand, the dietary habits and socio-cultural ethics of the pre-industrial era have not entirely left Chinese culture. While getting substantial food is no longer a matter of survival for most Chinese nowadays, eating novel meat from rare animals or plants still holds as a special identification for some people in order to attain certain social recognition and identification. After the COVID-19 outbreak, the crazed appetite for wildlife of certain groups of people has been ferociously condemned among the online debate in China. Therefore, the corona time probably leads to the reconfiguration of ethics that goes beyond the human world, let more people reconsider the rapid, innovation-driven imaginaries of technological visions of the future, especially the detrimental limitedness of the human-centered framework. 

2 soil, and local agriculture practice 

In her book, Puig de la Bellacasa particularly addresses care in the context of industrialized farming, where soil is treated as a service for humans, or as an ingredient into human production. She also states that indigenous practices have become sources of innovation (212–213). Indeed, more than just the instrumental relation, the soil has a divine and active role in the agricultural conventions and folk religions in China even til today. Usually called the “Lord of the Soil” or “Earth God”, such deity has a very intimate and multifaceted role in the localized practice in agriculture. Instead of the subject-object dichotomy, the farmer and the personalized soil have a rather reciprocal communicative relation. To be sure, treating soil as a living localized entity is not only a distant religious belief for them, but also has been embedded int to the daily farming practice, where the dimension of care in Puig de la Bellacasa’s sense can possibly be identified.

In his Gods, ghosts, and ancestors (1974), Arthur P. Wolf suggests that the Chinese term ‘tudi’ signifies more than mere earth and soil, which is, in fact, indicative of the natural human relation with the land and, more specifically, the built human environment. Also, the intimate interactions of farmers with the soil denote the dynamics of ‘the sensorial universe’ proposed by Puig de la Bellacasa. Only by the frequent haptic experience and the caring encounters with the soil, the agricultural practice can become part of ‘knowledge’. With 560 million rural population in China, such convention has not died out but still is participating in contemporary times, which constantly troubles any universalized conceptions of post-industrial envision. 

Thinking care with Puig de la Bellacasa


Replacing and repurposing the concept of care, Maria Puig de la Bellacasa’s text Matters of Care invites “a speculative exploration of the significance of care for thinking and living in more than human worlds” (1). Rethinking care as a practice of the everyday can be, as Puig de la Bellacasa argues, a radically transformative political project, repairing our worlds and broadening the frame beyond the human. This idea of care, as such, is part of a life-sustaining web. The notion of care, here, is not a concrete, ready-made explanation or blueprint. Rather, care is a provocation; it is speculative, open-ended, nonnormative, and situated. The speculative is embraced to imagine other possible worlds and is grounded in the belief that things could be otherwise. Care, here, becomes a political imagination, fueling hope and desire for transformative action. Rather than a utopian project, Puig de la Bellacasa seeks to situate her work in current material worlds of the everyday: in the becoming of things.
Engaging with Puig de la Bellacasa’s proposition of rethinking care and relating it to the current situation, I wonder: who is worthy of care these days (human or nonhuman) in times of covid-19? Whose lives are disposable, and who is cared for? And how can Puig de la Bellacasa’s rethinking of the concept of care perhaps help us to care today?
Moving to the chapter Touching Visions, Puig de la Bellacasa proposed to rethink the notion of touch as a way to further an embodied approach to care, enabling us to eschew abstractions and detachments associated with the omnipotence of the visual. Touch, according to Puig de la Bellacasa, enables us to understand care in terms of interconnections and fosters a move away from reciprocal acts. This way, touch shows us that care can be asymmetrical, enabling us to start approaching care as a form of circulation in a much broader world beyond the human. Rethinking care and engaging with the notion of touch, then, is aimed at more involvement in and commitment to the world. Overall, Puig de la Bellacasa offers us a powerful argument for thinking care and taking care, and to consider the agencies and liveliness of nonhumans as a requirement for constructing possibilities for heterogeneous flourishing in livable futures.
Engaging with the idea of touch as a caring practice, I wonder how, in times of covid-19 and social distancing, we can manage to stay in touch with ourselves, our bodies, when most of our connections are through digital networks? How can we stay in touch in quarantine times?

zondag 10 mei 2020

Disruptive Care?

1. In what ways might ‘care’ be disruptive?
I am impressed with how Puig de la Bellacasa unfolds multiple meanings of care layer by layer without setting a predetermined or idealized framework. Despite her speculative approach resisting a final solution, I am still prompted to think in what ways could ‘care’ be disruptive? On one hand, care could stand for the neoliberal economy of individualization, reducing social problems into self-responsibility (p.9). On the other, care could be engaging in the messy world (p.6), a world more than ‘human’ as the author ponders. 
The moral economy promoted by neoliberalism makes me wonder about the ‘intelligent lockdown’ adopted by the Dutch government. Does this mean that to ‘care’ (for oneself?) in a time of COVID-19 requires certain intelligence (and ableness)? In this situation, what kinds of disruptive ‘care’ could be reclaimed?

2. ‘Do not touch’ in a museum and the world at this moment
Recently there has been discussion on how COVID-19 affects the museum world (Rusty 2020). The chapter of ‘Touching Visions’ asks interesting questions that can also be inspiring for museum practice. Conventionally, a museum is considered a guardian of precious artifacts. So to care for museum object might mean not to touch, although pre-early museum history shows contradictory evidence (Classen 2017). Relation-based art opposes to such the dominance of vision and regulation of touch. However, in a situation of a pandemic, a museum certainly needs to redefine the interactive mode of these artworks. The “reversibility” of touch (p. 99) now is that when we touch, the virus might respond to the touch. So how does a museum re-make the relation between visitors and objects? How does relation aesthetics redefine itself with care?
Puig de la Bellacasa’s reflection on virtual technology also prompts me to think about the interactivity embraced by the museum lately. Does the employment of digitalization, virtual tour, and VR technology, for example, reduce the distance between the museum and the public? As the author suggested, these touch technologies might not “reduce distance” but “redistribute it” (p. 109).

References
1. Rachel Trusty, ‘What Will Become of Interactive Art When Museums Reopen?’
2. Constance Classen, The Museum of the Senses: Experiencing Art and Collections. London: Bloomsbury, 2017.