To see the other types of publications on this topic, follow the link: Secure dominance neutrosophic number.

Journal articles on the topic 'Secure dominance neutrosophic number'

Create a spot-on reference in APA, MLA, Chicago, Harvard, and other styles

Select a source type:

Consult the top 35 journal articles for your research on the topic 'Secure dominance neutrosophic number.'

Next to every source in the list of references, there is an 'Add to bibliography' button. Press on it, and we will generate automatically the bibliographic reference to the chosen work in the citation style you need: APA, MLA, Harvard, Chicago, Vancouver, etc.

You can also download the full text of the academic publication as pdf and read online its abstract whenever available in the metadata.

Browse journal articles on a wide variety of disciplines and organise your bibliography correctly.

1

S, Sivasankar, and Said Broumi. "Secure Edge Domination in Neutrosophic Graphs." Journal of Neutrosophic and Fuzzy Systems 3, no. 2 (2022): 08–18. http://dx.doi.org/10.54216/jnfs.030201.

Full text
Abstract:
The concepts of Neutrosophic secure edge domination number and neutrosophic total secure edge domination number in single valued neutrosophic graphs (SVNG) with strong arcs are introduced and analysed in this paper, and some of their properties are studied. The relationship between the neutrosophic secure edge dominance number and its inverse is presented. The concepts inverse neutrosophic total edge domination set and inverse neutrosophic total edge domination number are also defined. Some of these concepts' properties are investigated.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
2

Mesfer, Mesfer. "Blockchain with Single-Valued Neutrosophic Hypersoft Sets Assisted Threat Detection for Secure IoT Assisted Consumer Electronics." International Journal of Neutrosophic Science 25, no. 1 (2025): 160–71. http://dx.doi.org/10.54216/ijns.250114.

Full text
Abstract:
The breakthrough technologies of the Internet of Things (IoT) have modernized classical Consumer Electronics (CE) into next-generation CE with high intelligence and connectivity. This connectivity amongst appliances, actuators, sensors, etc., offers automated control in CE and enables better data availability. However, the data traffic has been exponentially increased owing to its decentralization, diversity, and increasing number of CE devices. Furthermore, the static network-based approaches need exclusive management and manual configuration of CE devices. The generalization of a Neutrosophic Hypersoft Set (NHSS) is a concept of a soft set. This architecture is a mixture of neutrosophic sets with hypersoft sets. Therefore, the study introduce a Blockchain with Single-Valued Neutrosophic Hypersoft Sets Assisted Threat Detection (BCSVNHS-TD) technique for Secure IoT Assisted CE. The presented BCSVNHS-TD technique applies BC technology for secure communication among CEs. For threat detection, the BCSVNHS-TD method introduces the SVNHS model. Also, the parameter selection of the SVNHS method takes place using the chicken swarm optimization (CSO) technique. An extensive set of tests was involved for exhibiting the better effiency of the BCSVNHS-TD method. The experimental results emphasized that the BCSVNHS-TD method reaches optimal results over other techniques
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
3

Eljack, Sarah, Mahdi Jemmali, Mohsen Denden, et al. "A secure solution based on load-balancing algorithms between regions in the cloud environment." PeerJ Computer Science 9 (December 1, 2023): e1513. http://dx.doi.org/10.7717/peerj-cs.1513.

Full text
Abstract:
The problem treated in this article is the storage of sensitive data in the cloud environment and how to choose regions and zones to minimize the number of transfer file events. Handling sensitive data in the global internet network many times can increase risks and minimize security levels. Our work consists of scheduling several files on the different regions based on the security and load balancing parameters in the cloud. Each file is characterized by its size. If data is misplaced from the start it will require a transfer from one region to another and sometimes from one area to another. The objective is to find a schedule that assigns these files to the appropriate region ensuring the load balancing executed in each region to guarantee the minimum number of migrations. This problem is NP-hard. A novel model regarding the regional security and load balancing of files in the cloud environment is proposed in this article. This model is based on the component called “Scheduler” which utilizes the proposed algorithms to solve the problem. This model is a secure solution to guarantee an efficient dispersion of the stored files to avoid the most storage in one region. Consequently, damage to this region does not cause a loss of big data. In addition, a novel method called the “Grouping method” is proposed. Several variants of the application of this method are utilized to propose novel algorithms for solving the studied problem. Initially, seven algorithms are proposed in this article. The experimental results show that there is no dominance between these algorithms. Therefore, three combinations of these seven algorithms generate three other algorithms with better results. Based on the dominance rule, only six algorithms are selected to discuss the performance of the proposed algorithms. Four classes of instances are generated to measure and test the performance of algorithms. In total, 1,360 instances are tested. Three metrics are used to assess the algorithms and make a comparison between them. The experimental results show that the best algorithm is the “Best-value of four algorithms” in 86.5% of cases with an average gap of 0.021 and an average running time of 0.0018 s.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
4

Mahalat, Mahabub Hasan, Dipankar Karmakar, Anindan Mondal, and Bibhash Sen. "PUF based Secure and Lightweight Authentication and Key-Sharing Scheme for Wireless Sensor Network." ACM Journal on Emerging Technologies in Computing Systems 18, no. 1 (2022): 1–23. http://dx.doi.org/10.1145/3466682.

Full text
Abstract:
The deployment of wireless sensor networks (WSN) in an untended environment and the openness of the wireless channel bring various security threats to WSN. The resource limitations of the sensor nodes make the conventional security systems less attractive for WSN. Moreover, conventional cryptography alone cannot ensure the desired security against the physical attacks on sensor nodes. Physically unclonable function (PUF) is an emerging hardware security primitive that provides low-cost hardware security exploiting the unique inherent randomness of a device. In this article, we have proposed an authentication and key sharing scheme for the WSN integrating Pedersen’s verifiable secret sharing (Pedersen’s VSS) and Shamir’s secret sharing (Shamir’s SS) scheme with PUF which ensure the desired security with low overhead. The security analysis depicts the resilience of the proposed scheme against different active, passive and physical attacks. Also, the performance analysis shows that the proposed scheme possesses low computation, communication and storage overhead. The scheme only needs to store a polynomial number of PUF challenge-response pairs to the user node. The sink or senor nodes do not require storing any secret key. Finally, the comparison with the previous protocols establishes the dominance of the proposed scheme to use in WSN.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
5

Purnomo, Mangku. "Contesting Indonesia’s Single Origin Coffee Market: A Dynamic Capabilities Perspective." Asian Social Science 14, no. 8 (2018): 91. http://dx.doi.org/10.5539/ass.v14n8p91.

Full text
Abstract:
Coffee is a commodity that has high value and great demand, then it supply chain tends to be monopolized by big actors certainly for single origin coffee bean. However, increasing number of local coffee shops and consumer awareness of consumed goods, and the emergence of more conscious consumer groups of “coffee lovers” or “connoisseur’s consumers”, sparks an intesive competition among market actors in local level that influence such dominance. This study aims to employ the dynamic capabilities theories (DCs) to analyze how the market actors, namelysmall traders, wholesalers, certified companies, and coffee shop owners build a strategy to secure their coffee supply amidst the tight competition.Selecting the coffee markets in Dampit District, East Java, Indonesia, we find the actors fighting for social space to win the competition by building network, dependency, and legitimacy. Actors build capabilities based on the internal potential to identify opportunities, take the opportunities, and utilize them to transform business organizations to survive rapid environmental changes. Not just looking at dominance behaviors as how it is in the case of asset-based approach, DCs provide a more balanced perspective between the entrepreneur's capacity and asset control. Detailed research to see each actor builds long term strategies is needed in the future to describe in more detail their strategy in maintaining their business sustainability in the more competitive busisness environment.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
6

Bebawy, Mary, Ariane Roseblade, Frederick Luk, Tristan Rawling, Alison Ung, and Georges E. R. Grau. "Cell-Derived Microparticles: New Targets in the Therapeutic Management of Disease." Journal of Pharmacy & Pharmaceutical Sciences 16, no. 2 (2013): 238. http://dx.doi.org/10.18433/j3989x.

Full text
Abstract:
Intercellular communication is essential to maintain vital physiological activities and to regulate the organism’s phenotype. There are a number of ways in which cells communicate with one another. This can occur via autocrine signaling, endocrine signaling or by the transfer of molecular mediators across gap junctions. More recently communication via microvesicular shedding has gained important recognition as a significant pathway by which cells can coordinate the spread and dominance of selective traits within a population. Through this communication apparatus, cells can now acquire and secure a survival advantage, particularly in the context of malignant disease. This review aims to highlight some of the functions and implications of microparticles in physiology of various disease states, and present a novel therapeutic strategy through the regulation of microparticle production.
 
 This article is open to POST-PUBLICATION REVIEW. Registered readers (see “For Readers”) may comment by clicking on ABSTRACT on the issue’s contents page.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
7

Toshchev, Vladimir. "Major Directions of Conflicts in the Information Space, and Their Specifics." Polylogos 8, no. 1 (27) (2024): 0. http://dx.doi.org/10.18254/s258770110028643-9.

Full text
Abstract:
The article analyzes the concept of “information conflict”, which is quite new in the context of political science. To achieve the goal of the study, the article pays special attention to types of information conflict and specific examples from real political practice. The criteria for typologizing such conflicts have been established, and the existing differences in approaches to managing the information sphere have been highlighted. It is noted that in modern conditions a number of approaches have a political and ideological direction, which is important to take into account when considering specific situations. Today, in the context of human involvement in the digital environment, contradictions that previously existed in societies become more noticeable against the backdrop of constant information influence. The information technology sector is forcing the world community to think about the possible consequences of using cyber technologies as a military weapon. The article notes that there are precedents when cyber attacks became a casus belli for the use of traditional types of weapons. It is concluded that the potential risks associated with the information environment inevitably lead to attempts by the world's leading states to secure their communication networks, which, in turn, creates conflicts of a new type: for the dominance of one or another approach to managing the information space.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
8

R. Kalaiselvi and P. Meenakshi Sundaram. "Machine learning-based ERA model for detecting Sybil attacks on mobile ad hoc networks." Scientific Temper 15, no. 04 (2024): 3196–204. https://doi.org/10.58414/scientifictemper.2024.15.4.29.

Full text
Abstract:
Mobile ad hoc networks provide a substantial security threat because they lack central management and sufficient resources. These networks function autonomously without any central authority regulating the inclusion or removal of nodes. Nodes have the autonomy to choose when to join or quit. Dynamic multi-hop networks, either stationary or mobile, provide quick and simple access to data. Predicting the evolution of MANET can be challenging due to the network’s dispersion and self-organization, as well as its unpredictable and constantly changing topology. The independent organization of nodes in MANETs, coupled with their dispersion, may complicate the prediction of the network’s future growth due to its unstable and constantly changing structure. A Sybil attack, a deceptive tactic, involves a small number of individuals creating multiple counterfeit identities to gain dominance over a substantial portion of the system. To deceive legitimate users into believing that their system is utilizing their identities, the malicious attacker node adopts numerous identities. An attacker aims to gather a substantial number of node IDs, potentially generated at random, to appear and function as distinct nodes. Within the peer-to-peer overlay, the enemy can approach a single object or a group of objects by adopting different identities. Mobile ad hoc networks are intrinsically less secure than wired networks due to inherent security vulnerabilities and limited energy resources. To enhance detection accuracy, it is recommended to employ an ensemble regression arboretum model, which is a type of machine learning prediction model. This study proposes a machine learning-based method for detecting Sybil attacks in MANETs by collecting network metrics such as traffic characteristics, communication patterns, and node behaviors.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
9

Eccleston-Turner, Mark. "The Economic Theory of Patent Protection and Pandemic Influenza Vaccines." American Journal of Law & Medicine 42, no. 2-3 (2016): 572–97. http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/0098858816658280.

Full text
Abstract:
The creation of new vaccines is one of the key challenges in the battle against global infectious diseases. Therefore, creating the optimal conditions for innovation in vaccines is one of the most important roles law may undertake in this battle. In relation to pharmaceuticals, the economic theory of patent protection is commonly cited by industry and in the academic literature to justify the patenting of life-saving medicines and vaccines. The economic theory of patent protection holds that innovation occurs due to patents protecting the research and development investment made by the innovator. Proponents of this theory claim that without patents such innovation in medicines and vaccines would occur at a significantly reduced rate. This Article considers the applicability of the economic theory of patent protection to pandemic influenza vaccines. This Article examines a number of factors relevant to patent law, theory, and innovation including: the patent landscape for pandemic influenza vaccines; the market dominance enjoyed by manufacturers; the actual risk posed by imitators making generic vaccines if patent protection were not in place; and, the licensing and regulatory provisions for creating generic vaccines.According to the economic theory of patent protection, a patent incentivizes innovation by providing an innovator with a temporary monopoly regarding their innovation, and by protecting them from the threat posed by imitators who wish to make a cheap replica of the product. However, even without a patent, pandemic influenza vaccine manufacturers are in this position. Due to economies of scale and the complicated regulatory and licensing frameworks relevant to bringing a pandemic influenza vaccine to market, manufacturers are at little to no risk from generic imitators. Moreover, there is a very strong incentive to innovate because pandemic influenza vaccine manufacturers are selling a product for which demand exceeds supply to a captive market of nations and organizations, each of which is hoping to secure as much vaccine as possible. The unique conditions associated with pandemic influenza vaccines appear to provide more of an incentive to innovate and research in this field than the fact that the innovations can be patented.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
10

Zaccagnini, Ashley Jo. "Time’s Up: A Call to Eradicate NCAA Monopsony Through Federal Legislation." SMU Law Review Forum 74, no. 1 (2021): 55–91. http://dx.doi.org/10.25172/slrf.74.1.3.

Full text
Abstract:
Few traditions are as near and dear to the hearts of Americans as college athletics. The institution holds a special place in society because it reflects the ultimate convergence of those values that uniquely define the United States: loyalty, competitiveness, and pride. However, the notion of basic fairness seems to have been excluded along the way, as the commercialization of college athletics gave way to total dominance over the industry by the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA). The NCAA promulgates sports rules and organizes collegiate-level championships, but its most influential role involves promoting “amateurism,” or the notion that student-athletes are not entitled to compensation because college athletics should be about the love of the game, not monetization. While amateurism may be touted as an honorable principle aimed at preserving the character of college athletics and its differences from professional sports, the principle is more difficult to justify at a time when the NCAA earns $1.1 billion per year in revenue, none of which is shared among student-athletes who work full-time and typically live below the poverty line. Last year, state legislators paused to consider whether any justification exists for continuing to adhere to the NCAA’s archaic system of denying compensation to student-athletes in light of the fact that “amateurism” holds no significance in a legal sense. Given the lack of any such justification, the California legislature became the first to explicitly defy the NCAA in passing the Fair Pay to Play Act in September of 2019. Since then, a number of states have followed suit by drafting nearly identical laws that would likewise have the effect of permitting student-athletes to earn compensation for use of their name, image, and likeness (NIL). Unsurprisingly, NCAA leadership vehemently condemned the movement at first, threatening to strip member institutions affected by the new legislation from the organization altogether. The NCAA has since reneged on its hostile position, making a public commitment to reform its policies so as to authorize paid endorsement opportunities for student-athletes on some level. However, the organization will undoubtedly attempt to minimize the impact of the Fair Pay to Play Act and its progeny whether through litigation or by crafting new restrictive policies ultimately aimed at nullifying the effects of new laws. Admittedly, the state-by-state approach to adopting a new stance on athlete compensation comes with a number of practical challenges, thereby providing fertile ground for the NCAA to launch powerful objections. This Comment aims to present a workable solution in the form of a comprehensive federal law, which would secure the rights of student-athletes to earn compensation for use of their NILs before the NCAA is given the opportunity to preempt the significance of that right. While several congressmen have drafted federal laws related to the topic of NIL rights in this context, this Comment identifies particular issues that have been overlooked at the state level thus far, recommending specific provisions that would not only embrace student-athletes’ rights in principle as a matter of basic fairness, but make those rights a practicable and economically feasible reality.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
11

Sivasankar, S., and Broumi Said. "Secure Dominance in Neutrosophic Graphs." July 29, 2023. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.8194718.

Full text
Abstract:
Secure dominance is a significant proportion of dominance which plays vital role in communication networks. In this article, we present and analyze an idea of the secured neutrosophic dominance and totally neutrosophic dominance number of neutrosophic graphs primarily based on strong arcs and the properties of both notions are studied. The terms 2- neutrosophic dominance number, 2- secured neutrosophic dominance variety, 2- totally neutrosophic dominance, and 2- secured neutrosophic dominance number also are defined. Some of their theoretical properties are investigated
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
12

R.NarmadaDevi, M.Meenu, and G.Muthumari. "A Novel of Domination in Neutrosophic Over Graphs." October 3, 2023. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.8404423.

Full text
Abstract:
The degree of data uncertainty may be measured using a variety of mathematical techniques, but neutrosophic logic is a potent instrument for analysis when compared to fuzzy and intuitionistic fuzzy logics. This article introduces the novel idea of "dominance in neutrosophic over graph (NOG)s" and discusses some of the intriguing characteristics of complete, complete bipartite, and neutrosophic over bridge domination. With the relevant instances, the characterization of neutrosophic over domination set and neutrosophic over minimal domination set is developed, and their dominance numbers are examined
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
13

Demircan, Murat Levent, and Algı Acarbay. "Evaluation of software development suppliers in banking sector using neutrosophic fuzzy EDAS." Journal of Intelligent & Fuzzy Systems, July 11, 2021, 1–12. http://dx.doi.org/10.3233/jifs-219198.

Full text
Abstract:
Payment is an important part of people’s daily lives, and although both online and offline transactions made by credit cards increase every day with the growing interest in e-commerce, 85–90% of worldwide payment transactions are still made by cash. However, the banks, giant payment institutions like Visa and MasterCard, and Payment Service Provider companies aim to increase the number of card transactions and enhance their platforms by supporting a wide range of channels with digital solutions, enhancing the security and providing value-added services. Having the user-friendly and secure payment platforms, and easy and quick integration opportunities with the merchants are quite critical for the banks; which shift them to outsource Virtual Point of Sale platform and focus on their core business. In this article, the vendor selection process of a bank is researched and Evaluation based on Distance to Average Solution (EDAS) method is used for vendor selection.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
14

Sharmila, C. Ruby, and S. Meenakshi. "SECURE VERTEX-EDGE DOMINATION IN HYPERCUBE AND GRID GRAPHS: APPLICATIONS OF CYBERSECURITY IN BANKING FOR SECURE TRANSACTIONS." JOURNAL OF MECHANICS OF CONTINUA AND MATHEMATICAL SCIENCES 20, no. 06 (2025). https://doi.org/10.26782/jmcms.2025.06.00004.

Full text
Abstract:
In the banking sector, safeguarding sensitive financial transactions is critical to maintaining customer trust and regulatory compliance. Cybersecurity threats, ranging from data breaches to unauthorized access, necessitate robust protective measures. However, the majority of research places a strong emphasis on vertex dominance in security networks while ignoring the importance of edge defense for overall security, also hypercube and grid structures are not considered. Furthermore, conventional studies have ignored the potential of hypercube and grid graph structures in enhancing security measures. Hence this research proposed a secure vertex-edge domination (SVED) in hypercube and grid graphs, exploring their applications in optimizing cybersecurity measures for secure transaction monitoring. Moreover, develop a Hidden Markov Model (HMM) framework to enhance the detection of anomalous activities within these graph structures. This algorithm efficiently computes the minimum number of security agents required to monitor transaction flows, thus reducing vulnerabilities. This research not only fills a critical gap in existing network security methodologies but also proposes a novel framework for protecting complex networks from evolving cyber threats, thereby advancing the frontier of cybersecurity and mathematical graph theory.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
15

Kuppusamy, Ramesh, and Anbarasan Murugesan. "IoT-based external attacks aware secure healthcare framework using blockchain and SB-RNN-NVS-FU techniques." Technology and Health Care, April 5, 2024, 1–21. http://dx.doi.org/10.3233/thc-231895.

Full text
Abstract:
BACKGROUND: In recent times, there has been widespread deployment of Internet of Things (IoT) applications, particularly in the healthcare sector, where computations involving user-specific data are carried out on cloud servers. However, the network nodes in IoT healthcare are vulnerable to an increased level of security threats. OBJECTIVE: This paper introduces a secure Electronic Health Record (EHR) framework with a focus on IoT. METHODS: Initially, the IoT sensor nodes are designated as registered patients and undergo initialization. Subsequently, a trust evaluation is conducted, and the clustering of trusted nodes is achieved through the application of Tasmanian Devil Optimization (STD-TDO) utilizing the Student’s T-Distribution. Utilizing the Transposition Cipher-Squared random number generator-based-Elliptic Curve Cryptography (TCS-ECC), the clustered nodes encrypt four types of sensed patient data. The resulting encrypted data undergoes hashing and is subsequently added to the blockchain. This configuration functions as a network, actively monitored to detect any external attacks. To accomplish this, a feature reputation score is calculated for the network’s features. This score is then input into the Swish Beta activated-Recurrent Neural Network (SB-RNN) model to classify potential attacks. The latest transactions on the blockchain are scrutinized using the Neutrosophic Vague Set Fuzzy (NVS-Fu) algorithm to identify any double-spending attacks on non-compromised nodes. Finally, genuine nodes are granted permission to decrypt medical records. RESULTS: In the experimental analysis, the performance of the proposed methods was compared to existing models. The results demonstrated that the suggested approach significantly increased the security level to 98%, reduced attack detection time to 1300 ms, and maximized accuracy to 98%. Furthermore, a comprehensive comparative analysis affirmed the reliability of the proposed model across all metrics. CONCLUSION: The proposed healthcare framework’s efficiency is proved by the experimental evaluation.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
16

Chayanika Bhaduri. "Gloomy Actuality of the Feeble Fragment of Indian Society." International Journal of Advanced Research in Science, Communication and Technology, December 19, 2023, 622–25. http://dx.doi.org/10.48175/ijarsct-14283.

Full text
Abstract:
Studying about women movement, feminist thories, contribution of women in Indian National Movement and a number of scholarly publications about the condition of women in 19th and 20th century is just the fulfilment of the formal educational agenda. These things have largely been theoretical as the objectives are never practically realised. In the prevailing time of insecurity and male dominance, apart from financial or any kind of autonomy, self-defense has also become an inexplicable parameter of women empowerment. Since harm for women is possible to become the outcome of any kind of male grudge, intention or superiority, every women - literate or illiterate working or home maker, students as well should learn the art of protection. It is extremely significant for the maintenance of female dignity and social status. Nature has given equal opportunities to the female to utilise its resources like men. Anyways, the preceding incidents or occurrences against the women with the target of their victimisation have made it a compulsion for them to develop a harsh and challenging attitude against the opposite sex for a secure and tension free existence.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
17

Redondo, Iraida, Roger Fusté, Jaime Muriel, et al. "Not all who wander are lost: prospecting and settlement of male floaters in the spotless starling." Behavioral Ecology, April 17, 2025. https://doi.org/10.1093/beheco/araf028.

Full text
Abstract:
Abstract Floaters are non-breeding individuals that lack a territory or a breeding site. In many species, they can be seen visiting the territories of conspecifics before obtaining their own breeding site. Prospecting behavior is hypothesized to benefit floaters through information acquisition, enhanced site familiarity and dominance over other floaters. Here, we used detections of PIT-tagged male floaters in a population of spotless starlings (Sturnus unicolor). We investigated how floater activity varied across breeding stages and how their visits influenced subsequent nest site selection. We also tested whether distance, reproductive success, and phenotype and fate of the former owner influenced final settlement. We found that floater activity increased during the nestling-rearing period as nestling age increased. Floaters were more likely to breed near the area where they had been detected the previous year, suggesting that prospecting allows males to secure a foothold in their future settlement area. Although prospecting was higher in nests with a higher number of nestlings, neither breeding success, phenotype, nor provisioning rate of the last owner were related to nest choice, suggesting that public information is not used by males to decide where to settle. However, we found that floaters were more likely to breed in nest boxes where the previous owner had disappeared from the colony, suggesting that visits by male floaters in this species allow them to detect new vacancies. Our results suggest that prospecting might serve several non-mutually exclusive functions. Further studies in non-saturated colonies could shed light on the functional aspects of prospecting.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
18

Al-Otaibi, Maryam bint Khalaf. "The Security Situation in Najd During the Twelfth Century AH / Eighteenth Century AD." Jordan Journal for History and Archaeology 17, no. 1 (2023). http://dx.doi.org/10.35516/jjha.v17i1.960.

Full text
Abstract:
Najdi society was formed of a mixture of the desert and settled areas, and despite their presence in the same area and their coexistence, the nature of each of them is different from the other, the Bedouin society used to constantly migrate in search of the resources and water that it needs in its life. Their lives were characterized by constant competition, frequent movement, and instability as a result of permanent conflicts in which the strong dominate the weak. Force remained the decisive factor in coexistence between the components of the local community in Najd. Several clashes and incidents arose between them, almost daily, which had a great impact on life there, and was a strong motive for the intervention of neighboring forces in its local affairs, in order to subjugate these tribes or secure trade routes and protect pilgrims. belonging to those forces. Najd was subjected to major campaigns by these two forces in the Hejaz and the eastern Arabian Peninsula, and these conflicts contributed to impeding the urban, economic and agricultural advancement through the large number of times when tribes interferred in the life of cities and villages, weakening or completely destroying them. This was followed by the emergence of the power of the first Saudi state in 1139 AH / 1727 AD as a political force, and the growth of its influence and dominance in the center of the Arabian Peninsula. The Saudi state, was able to restore the political balance in the region, and impose its prestige and presence on the internal forces in the region, and the forces surrounding it.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
19

Kucharski, Jeffrey B. "Energy, Trade and Geopolitics in Asia: The Implications for Canada." School of Public Policy Publications 11, no. 1 (2018). http://dx.doi.org/10.55016/ojs/sppp.v11i1.52699.

Full text
Abstract:
Canada’s growing interest in trade with countries in the Indo-Pacific region corresponds with an ominous growth in geopolitical instability and insecurity in that part of the globe. With Indo-Pacific hunger for oil expected to soar – especially in China, where demand will translate to 80 per cent of imports in 10 years – Canada needs to develop policies to deal with the region’s turbulent realities. The Indo-Pacific comprises countries in South Asia and Southeast Asia, and includes such unstable and unpredictable players as North Korea and Pakistan, both of which have nuclear weapons and long-simmering border tensions. India is an emerging economic and military rival to China. In the next 20 years, China and India are expected to lead the global demand for gas as coal consumption continues to decline, and Canada has a stake in this prosperous future. Along with territorial squabbles in the region, Canada will have to deal with complex issues such as terrorism, human trafficking, transnational crime, piracy and cyber-crime, as well as the struggle for global dominance between China and the U.S. One key area for potential conflict is China’s recent construction and militarization of artificial islands in the South China Sea. The Canadian government’s new military strategy, Strong, Secure, Engaged does little more than make a plea for peace and the rule of law in the South China Sea. However, more trade crosses the Pacific Ocean from Canada than crosses the Atlantic. And with Canada signing on to the Comprehensive and Progressive Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP), the region’s troubles will need to be resolved by more than good intentions on paper. Canada must shift more diplomatic, security and military resources to the Indo-Pacific; otherwise, its efforts will be spread too thinly to be effective in the region. Trade, especially through a major route like the Strait of Malacca, could easily be disrupted by any one of a number of disputes, such as a conflict between China and Taiwan or if historic resentments boil over among competing territorial claimants in the region. Thus, Canada needs to step up and reaffirm its security commitments to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) as a partner in the region. Participating in maritime exercises and Freedom of Navigation (FON) operations would also help to reinforce to countries in the region the importance of abiding by international law. Meanwhile, Canada should set aside for now any intentions to negotiate a free trade agreement with China. China does not share some of Canada’s key trade and security goals and its aggressive behaviour in the South and East China Seas clearly signal that now is not the time to talk about a trade pact. China must demonstrate that it is willing to take a more cooperative approach to resolving trade and security issues in the Indo-Pacific and to support and respect the rule of law in the region. Canada has the potential to become a reliable, stable source of energy for Indo-Pacific countries. There is also an opportunity for provinces such as Alberta to strike their own strategic deals to provide energy resources to countries in that region, in return for trade and investment benefits. However, while investing at home in the necessary infrastructure and export capability to expand its role, Canada must also strive to bring its own unique approach to enhancing regional and energy security in the Indo-Pacific.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
20

"Late Cainozoic history of vegetation, fire, lake levels and climate, at Lake George, New South Wales, Australia." Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London. B, Biological Sciences 311, no. 1151 (1985): 379–447. http://dx.doi.org/10.1098/rstb.1985.0156.

Full text
Abstract:
The results of pollen, spore, algal and charcoal particle analyses from an 18 m core sample, dating from ca . 730000-0 a before present (B.P.), from Lake George are described along with an account of a five year study of modern pollen-rain from the same site. Also, pollen analyses of two isolated samples, dating about 4-7 Ma B.P., in a separate core from the same location are reported for comparison. The sedimentary sequence is dated by means of magnetostratigraphy and radiocarbon. The microfossil record from Lake George provides the longest relatively continuous Quaternary continental sequence yet available from Australia and may document one of the world’s longest combined record of vegetation, bush-fires, lake levels and climates together with the record of accompanying plant migrations, redistributions and extinctions. It is so far the only chronologically secure Late Cainozoic palynological database available in Australia that spans the entire Brunhes Chron. The altitudinal shifts of vegetation belts inferred from the palynological sequence suggest significant past changes in terrestrial temperatures of the order of glacialinterglacial cycles. It is revealed that the upper treeline was depressed by 1200-1500 m and 300-600 m, respectively, during the glacial maxima and the cool-temperate intervals, and reverted during the interglacials. Assuming an average lapse rate of 0.7 °C per 100 m, the drop in mean temperature for the warmest month (January) with respect to the present during the glacial maxima and the cool-temperate periods respectively may have been about 8—10 °C and 2—4 °C. A series of about eight glacial-interglacial cycles (phases I-XIX ) are recognized during the Brunhes Chron at Lake George broadly corresponding to stages 1-19 of the deep sea 18 O palaeotemperature record. A correlation between the palaeotemperature sequence and the former lake levels at Lake George is presented for the relatively more continuous section, ca. 350000-0 a B.P., with a view to resolve past precipitation changes. It is inferred that periods of considerably lower precipitation than at present prevailed during the glacial maxima. Conversely, periods of higher precipitation than at present occurred for some considerable lengths of time during the interglacials. In general terms, the precipitation levels increased during both interglacials and interstadials with respect to glacial maxima. The plant microfossil evidence indicates that Eucalyptus -dominated, dry sclerophyll (low, open) forests, now growing in the lake catchment, and probably elsewhere in southeastern Australia are the result of a comparatively recent development. It is shown that the relatively ‘ fire-sensitive’ Casuarina -dominated forests, combined several equally or more ‘fire-sensitive’ rainforest taxa, dominated the vegetation for at least half a million years during all but the last two interglacials. The relatively ‘fire-tolerant’, Eucalyptus -dominated forests started to expand onwards from the last interglacial, some 130000 years ago, in conjunction with large increases in the amount of charcoal in the sediment. Since then, not only did the amount of charcoal remain at a generally high level but the overall dominance of open, eucalypt forest is maintained throughout during the warmer periods except for a cool-temperate interstadial interval (zone D) during the last glacial. The ‘fire-sensitive’ Casuarina (under 23 μm type) as well as all the rainforest taxa declined at the end of the last glacial and finally disappeared from the lake catchment during the Holocene, culminating in the total extinction of Casuarina type under 23 μm during the last few hundred years. Some of the changes in flora during the Brunhes Chron were undoubtedly the result of long-term climatic change but most appear to have been precipitated through increased fire-frequencies only during the last 130000 years (with the maximum impact occurring during the last 10000 years), probably on account of the bush-firing activities of early man in Australia. This presupposes the presence of the Aboriginal people some 90000 years earlier than the oldest available archaeological evidence for human occupation of the Australian continent, a proposition that remains to be tested by future archaeological investigations. In biogeographical terms, the studies reveal that a number of Gondwanic taxa, commonly seen during the late Tertiary in southeastern Australia, survived well into the Pleistocene and finally disappeared during the late Brunhes from Lake George.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
21

H. Andersen, Søren. "Ertebøllekunstens teknik og kronologi." Kuml 72, no. 72 (2025). https://doi.org/10.7146/kuml.v72i72.153196.

Full text
Abstract:
Ertebølle art – techniques and chronologyNew finds from the Ertebølle culture in Jutland This article presents a new tool type within the material equipment of the Ertebølle culture in Jutland (figs. 1-2). The artefact is made of red deer antler and has a polished surface. The outline is oblong with parallel edges; one end is blunt, while the other ends in a break. The cross-section is semicircular, and on the top side is a small tap (figs. 1-2). The new artefact is, moreover, decorated with various patterns, in the rare pointillé(punch) technique and with both fine and deeply incised lines. The new type is extremely uncommon and has not previously been found in Jutland, but a few examples have been recorded on Ertebølle settlements in northern Funen and eastern Zealand (figs. 3-5). The scarcity of the finds means that a secure identification of the tool’s function is not possible, but it is found in both the Early and Late Ertebølle culture.Besides Numerous new ornamented Ertebølle artefacts have turned up since the two overviews of the art of the Ertebølle culture were published in Kuml in 1981 and 1998 (see note 60) (figs. 1-25). Most comprise antler axes, but there is also a single shaft (fig. 12) and a fragment of a bone knife ornamented with drilled pits and a rare depiction of a human figure (fig. 20). Most of the new finds derive from central-eastern Jutland, especially the area around Horsens Fjord, and on Djursland which, both in a Danish and a northern European context, constitute areas yielding many ornamented Late Mesolithic antler artefacts.The new finds also include two antler axes (figs. 6 and 11) and a slender shaft (fig. 7). The surface of the antler axe, which is worn smooth, is covered by several different incised patterns, for example, zigzag bands of thin lines, bunches of short, parallel lines, a rhombus and a row of the familiar ‘wheatsheaf’ motifs. All these motifs are incised into the surface of the antler axe using fine, thin lines (fig. 6).Surface-covering ornamentation is a characteristic feature of tools from the Early Ertebølle culture and, with the aid of ‘surface stratigraphy’, it has been possible to distinguish and date various decorative techniques and episodes in relation to each other (fig. 27). The stab technique is the earliest, while that employing fine, thin lines is slightly later. The latest patterns are those which are incised in a technique employing broader, deeper lines. It is possible that a small group of antler axes with a characteristic smooth-scraped surface (figs. 22-25) represents the latest decorative technique employed during the Ertebølle culture. After this technique, no further examples of the decoration of Ertebølle antler artefacts are found. The ornamented antler axes can be divided into two groups: A small group of heavily worn examples that have been used over a longer period and which bear several successive incised patterns employing different techniques, compositions and motifs, and a larger group of axes that do not have a worn surface and only bear a few motifs of an individual character. The first group can be interpreted as ‘ritual/magical’ pieces that have been used over a long period, while the second group represents the more individual, identity-marked artefacts with a looser, less stringent decorative structure. The ritual use of the axes in the first group has extended over such a long time span that both the decorative techniques and the motifs have changed several times. This decorative sequence can be roughly dated to the earliest/Early Ertebølle culture, c. 5400-4700 BC.The shaft (fig. 7) is unusual, given that it is made from a very slender (young) antler of atypical size and form and displays very regular ornamentation in the form of a panel containing a long row of wheatsheaves. A similar slender shaft bearing wheatsheaf ornamentation has been recorded from the submerged Ertebølle locality of Ellerbek in Kieler Förde, and these two shafts constitute a small group of the ornamented shafts from the Ertebølle culture. They are related in form to the throwing sticks of late ice age times.The commonest motif employed in the Ertebølle culture of western Denmark is the wheatsheaf, which is found on c. 25 antler axes. It is characteristic that this motif almost always appears as well-­delimited ‘sets’ on the axes (13 examples), while it has a more scattered occurrence across the surface of other artefacts. A count of the number of wheatsheaves in the motif groups on the individual tools shows that in most cases (16 examples) there is a clear dominance of sets containing groups of three, four or five motifs, whereas one or two wheatsheaves are rare occurrences. Conversely, there are only three cases where more than ten motifs have been incised on the same artefact. In one instance (the antler from Bogø Nor) as many as about 25 motifs occur on the same piece. The fact that the motifs only rarely show a slight overlap indicates the ornamentation was not planned as a single composition from the beginning but results from a series of ritual activities over a longer period. This is also evident from instances where it has been possible to separate the ornamentation out into a series of successive decorative processes.The surface of the ‘ritual’ tools has apparently functioned as a wall or a board into which patterns have repeatedly been incised. This suggests that these artefacts had either a special ideological or ritual significance over an extended period. This conclusion is underlined by their smoothly worn surface and partially worn-away motifs. As a parallel to this approach, attention can be drawn to cave walls decorated with Late Palaeolithic art, where the same surfaces have been used repeatedly for painting or incising motifs. The fact that so few Ertebølle antler artefacts (relative to the total number of these tools known from the culture) are ornamented suggests that these pieces had a different function or worth than the non-ornamented examples. This interpretation is, however, contradicted to some degree by the evident damage to the axe edge, fractures at the shaft hole and evidence of heavy rejuvenation of these tools. Collectively, this shows that these tools have both been used in everyday life and in the same way as the unornamented examples. There are several instances of ornamented axes being heavily worn and having a damaged edge: For example, the axes found in the Ertebølle graves at Fannerup and Nederst on Djursland. This demonstrates they have both been used as actual tools and have had a symbolic value and significance that has remained intact despite their worn-out appearance. This leads to the conclusion that it has more probably been their function as a ritual object in a burial context that was crucial, while their use as a tool – an axe – has been of lesser significance.If we now turn our attention to the chronological aspects of these ornamented antler tools, it is interesting that virtually all of them can be dated to the earliest/Early Ertebølle culture, i.e 5.400 – 4600 B.C (cal.). The decoration of the antler tools (axes and shafts) of the Ertebølle culture in western Denmark largely ceases around 4700 BC, with a shift from ornamented to unornamented tools at the beginning of the Late Ertebølle culture. In the Middle and Late Ertebølle culture, decoration is only found on pottery and the painted/carved paddle blades, which apparently become the new objects for ornamentation. Ornamentation in the Late Ertebølle culture may, however, also have encompassed the human body and clothing, in addition to woven artefacts and those of skin/hide – all materials that are not readily preserved.This shift in, or cessation of, decoration of the culture’s antler artefacts constitutes a marked change relative to the way in which this material was treated for many centuries prior to this. It must, therefore, signify a change or a shift in the culture’s ideology at this time (c. 4700 BC). It also coincides with a decline in the culture’s burial practices – a virtual cessation, whereby the number of graves falls dramatically.This temporal coincidence may be just random chance, but it is interesting that it also coincides with the appearance of a series of new artefact Types in the material world of the Ertebølle culture: types that point towards the south and southeast: pottery, T-shaped antler axes, bone rings etc. This could mean that these events reflect a much deeper shift in the social and ideological structure of the Ertebølle culture than has previously been assumed, where research focus has largely been restricted to the typological/technological changes (see note 61).It seems that not only are there significant changes the Ertebølle culture’s material equipment around 4700 BC, but a much deeper, ideological social change occurs, which sees expression in significantly fewer graves and cessation of the decoration of antler axes and shafts.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
22

Rahman, Mohmin. "Is Straight the New Queer?" M/C Journal 7, no. 5 (2004). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.2446.

Full text
Abstract:
He is, surely, the only heterosexual male in the country who could get away with being photographed half-naked and smothered in baby oil for GQ and still come over as an icon of masculinity. (GQ October 2002. Article on Beckham as GQ’s Sportsman of the Year, 264) Indeed. Let us tear our thoughts away from the image of David basted in oil and consider the extract as one of innumerable examples of the media fascination with Beckham. Given his penetration in Europe, Asia, Latin America and Africa, we can take as self-evident that Beckham is a quantifiably significant figure in contemporary global popular culture. By any measure of celebrity and any taxonomy of fame (Turner 15-23), Beckham qualifies as a striking example. He has inevitably appeared in a number of recent academic publications as an exemplar of celebrity and sports culture (Whannel, Turner, Cashmore and Parker) and, more notably in Cashmore’s book, as the focus of a social biography (Beckham). In his book Understanding Celebrity, Turner provides a comprehensive overview of the vast literature which has developed on issues of celebrity and fame, painting a broad picture of concerns divided between the significance of the apparent explosion in celebrity ‘culture’ and the focus on celebrities themselves. Within the literature on the social significance of celebrity culture, we can discern two key themes. First, celebrity culture is a manifestation of globalised commodity consumerism in advanced capitalism and second, its social function as a system of meanings and values which is supplanting traditional resources for self and social identities in late modern culture, including structures such as class, gender/sexuality, ethnicity and nationality. Whilst the authors mentioned above both draw on and contribute to these arguments, their focus remains broad, citing Beckham as a key manifestation of the complex interdependence between globalised sports and media industries, and transformations in gender and consumption. For example, although Cashmore’s book is solidly researched on the impact of media finance on football and has a sound argument on the significance of consumerism, he is prone to generalisations about the transformations in masculinity and celebrity culture which he suggests are central to understanding Beckham’s significance. Turner suggests that there needs to be more focused empirical work on the specific construction of celebrity since ‘modern celebrity…is a product of media representation: understanding it demands close attention to the representational repertoires and patterns employed in this discursive regime’ (8). This is how this short piece offers a contribution to the literature – drawing on a qualitative analysis of articles on Beckham, my discussion focuses on the meanings of Beckham’s celebrity and whether they can tell us something about the way the culture of fame operates. I have drawn selectively from my data, but a fuller discussion of both the data and grounded theory methodology can be found in a previous article (Rahman). Out of the six categories of meaning established through the grounded theory procedures used in the study, my contention is that masculinity is a core nexus in ‘cultural circuitry’ (Hall) – making the stories relevant, understandable, and often controversial. Moreover, the accompanying photo spreads often create a tension with the text, emphasising dissonant/controversial images which testifies to a dynamic of respect/ridicule in the representations. To be more precise, there is a construction of deference to Beckham’s professional status and to the Beckham family as the premier celebrity unit in the UK. Deference to and respect for their status is evident not only in those magazines which have paid for the privilege of access, but also the more gossip orientated celebrity weeklies such as Heat (18-24 May: 6-8): ‘those lucky enough to be asked to join David and Victoria enjoyed one the most extravagant soirees in recent memory. The sheer scale of the £350000 shindig was stunning, even by the standards of Celebville’s most extravagant couple’. Coupled with this respect is a sense of ridicule, often in discrete publications, but also within the same magazine and even sometimes the same article. Ridicule undercuts the celebrity credentials of extravagance and glamour with an implication of tackiness and vulgarity, and this gentle undercurrent becomes stronger when linked to Beckham’s fashion icon status: We’ve supported David through the highlights and lowlights of his various haircuts: the streaked curtains, the skinhead and his travis bickle style mohican. But this latest look is a ‘do too far’ – more village idiot than international style icon… (Heat 13-19 April: 24-5) This dynamic of respect/ridicule relies heavily on another dynamic; that of queer/normative invocation and recuperation. It is not only his fashion icon status being ridiculed here but also his status as a heterosexual masculine icon: People say you’re vain. Do you think so? You can see why people might think you’re a bit of a big girl’s blouse, because you have manicures, sunbeds and bleach your hair. You’re also one of the few footballers to become a gay icon. (Marie Claire June 2002: cover of Beckham, and 69-76) His gender/sexuality is anchored in hetero-family/masculine status but is somewhat dissonant in terms of vanity/grooming and gay icon status. ‘Queerying’ Beckham is not just a technique of ridicule (how very old fashioned that would be!) but also a deliberate destabilisation of ontological anchors which induces a sense of dissonance: An example from Heat (20-26 July 2002) has the cover byline ‘Phwoar! Another new look for Becks’ with a trail for a story on pages 18-20 which has a photograph of Beckham with his nail varnish highlighted and the text: David sported a new blonde barnet and a fitted black suit, and despite the controversy caused by his pink nail varnish he still managed to look macho and absolutely beautiful. This demonstrates some feminisation of Beckham but is counterbalanced by the very masculine anchor of ‘macho’. There is a recognition that the highlighted ambiguity in gender coding is potentially disruptive or controversial and hence it is recuperated – ‘he still managed to look macho’. GQ from June 2002 repeats the play on gender and sexuality, with a cover photo of Beckham lying down, bare torso but in a suit and hat, with one hand showing a ring and nail varnish, and the other in the waistband of his trousers. Inside, on pages 142-55, there follow seven full pages of photos and an interview conducted by David Furnish, a family friend of the Beckhams but also Elton John’s partner and so one of the most visible gay men in celebrity culture. However, rather than any danger of queering by association, the presence of Furnish seems only to enhance the mega-celebrity and hetero status, since he is careful to sound all the right notes of family, football and fatherhood in his questions in the text. Rather, it is the photospread which induces the queerness in this example, with four of Beckham’s naked torso in baby oil, of which one is him in unbuttoned cut-off denim shorts on a weights bench – very retro 1970s gay. In his history of male sports celebrities, Whannel suggests that Beckham is an exceptional figure, both because he is one of the few footballers in the UK to achieve full celebrity status, but also because he transgresses the discipline and work ethic associated with sporting bodies, indulging himself through conspicuous and narcissistic consumption (212). Whannel notes Beckham’s emergence during the development of a men’s style press in the UK, documented thoroughly in Nixon’s study of men’s magazines, which provides an account of the historical moment from 1984-1990 which saw the emergence of ‘new man’ imagery. Drawing on Mort’s contention that this is the first period which showed men being sexualised – a representational strategy previously applied only to women – Nixon concurs with Mort that this moment marks the beginning of men being addressed as a specific gender. However, these images of Beckham push at the boundaries of ‘new man’ constructions and ‘respectable’ images of sporting bodies, suggesting that the deliberate, indelicate and delicious sexualisation of Beckham’s body derives its power from the ‘danger’ this presents to sporting masculinity as well as simply heterosexual masculinity. Thus we need ‘family, fatherhood’ and ‘football’ to anchor the ‘queer’ Beckham. Given these and more recent images (Vanity Fair cover in July 2004, for example), we might be tempted to agree with Cashmore and Parker and Whannel that Beckham is indeed a ‘postmodern’ or ‘hybrid’ celebrity, appearing singularly able to float free of context and to signify many different meanings to many different groups. But the brief examples of the queer/normative dynamic presented here suggest that this is too glib an answer, precisely because there seems to be an explicit recognition of this dynamic: the editor of GQ says of Beckham that ‘he is in touch with his feminine side, but he is so obviously heterosexual that he can afford to be’ (Hot Stars 2-8 Nov. 2002: 36-9). The deliberate induction of dissonance suggests a reflexivity about the constructedness of these representations; a knowing indication that queerying Beckham’s masculinity is not the reality of Beckham, but rather that the queerying is perhaps a hyper reality as Baudrillard might have it. Beckham does not float ‘free’: dialectical signs are precisely mapped onto him. Dyer argues that film stars could be read as signs for specific versions of individuality, but crucially, that these signs reflect the dominant ideological constructions of class, ethnicity and gender/sexuality. In one example, he demonstrates how the sexually transgressive and potentially lesbian elements of Jane Fonda’s star persona are recuperated through the emphasis on her nationality and ethnicity, her ‘all-Americanness’ (81). Similarly, Beckham’s queerness is deliberately deployed as a sign, to be neutralised by heterosexual signs, thus recuperating the ideological dominance of a heteronormative culture. Beckham’s masculinity can be read as a ‘sign’, divorced from traditional referents and re-marked into a queer sign, specifically to promote consumption through the heady mix of respected status and apparently exciting transgression as a key aspect of this status. But this is a simulation, not indicating any ‘real’ queering of either the subject, or indeed of the assumed audience who have to make sense of the sign. Rather, the potential to remark Beckham as ‘queer’ seems to indicate that whilst heterosexual masculinity can be a sign, so perhaps too does queer itself become a sign, similarly divorced from its traditional referents. The ‘reality’ is thus simulated through pre-determined codes of representation, and one such code seems to be that gender transgression is culturally significant. Dialectical signs are mapped onto a reality/hyper reality dynamic, with queerness presented knowingly as the hyper real – after all, the reality is that Beckham is ‘so obviously heterosexual…’ It is possible to argue that the dynamics at work in making these representations effective can be understood as dialectical since there are opposing momentums at work in the construction of celebrity and fame. The respect/ridicule dynamic demonstrates that constructions of celebrity cannot be uncritically deferential. The gentle and knowing ridicule is a collusion between the media(tors) and the audience: an indication that this relationship is the true romance of celebrity culture rather than that between fans and icons. And why should this be so? Precisely because the media needs to continue to feed the desires of the audience but there is no guarantee that the desire will continue when an icon’s star wanes – unless of course, watching the decline is as much part of the romance as building the respect. Marshall argues that celebrity legitimises the individuality central to the lock between consumer capitalism and liberal democracy and the respect/ridicule dynamic exemplifies this function. The necessary continuation of consumption produces a dialectical dynamic, wherein both respect and ridicule exist to permit easy shifts in emphasis whilst maintaining the attention on the celebrity, which promotes continued consumption. Beckham’s own demonisation and rehabilitation in the wake of France 98 testifies convincingly to the necessity for continuity of producing items for consumption, no matter what the spin. Furthermore, the recent scandals over alleged infidelities has generated a production spike in the amount of images and words produced, whilst this time, not directly attacking Beckham. The queer constructions of Beckham amplify respect/ridicule along a specific dimension, supplying a dialectic of its own. The modes of meaning surrounding Beckham do indicate a shift in the possible effective constructions of masculinity, with the incorporation of a feminised interest in fashion (hairstyles, nail varnish, presentation in general) and the affirmation of gay icon/object of desire. It is in these constructions of dissonance that the de-essentialising of masculinity occurs, which may be the productive moment of disruption for those receiving the images and texts, and incorporating them into their own meaning systems around Beckham, footballers, masculinities, heteronormativity. The fact that these queer moments are possible may be testament enough to Beckham’s social significance; he is in the right place at the right time (with the right body and profession) to be our cultural lightning conductor for contemporary anxieties around gender/sexuality. However, the dialectic of queering Beckham has a synthesis which suggests that the route into queerness is not as important as the route out. These are only fleeting materialisations of the queer David Beckham – flashes of fleshy dissonance glimpsed briefly before the recuperation into the heterosexual subject, coded by footie, family and fatherhood. The newer dissonant properties of masculinity are literally contextualised within ideological codes of heterosexuality. The evident theatricalisation and appropriation may appear to signal a productive route into queerness – from heterosexual to queer (the pink nail varnish, the oiled fashion shoots, the gay gym denim cut offs shot), but what if it is actually working in reverse? What if the cultural effectivity is achieved by appropriating and theatricalising from gay/transgender to heterosexual? – de-essentialising ‘queer’ for productive dissonance and amusement, but safe in the knowledge that there is a secure and policed route out of ‘queerness’ – the encoded red carpet of heterosexual masculinity. The possibilities of a queer visibility are thus denied through the recuperative effects of the dialectics at work. The ridiculing of his gender transgressions may be necessarily gentle, in order to walk the tightrope of respect/ridicule, but they nonetheless assume that transgressions are problematic. Furthermore, the reality/hyper reality dynamic deploys queer as a ‘sign’ precisely in order to effect a recuperation of a normative version of ‘reality’. It seems that the weight of a predominantly heteronormative culture reinforces the dialectics in celebrity culture, making the unproblematic visibility of queer subjects improbable. After all, in these examples – focused one on the world’s premier celebrities – ‘queer’ itself is not actually cool – it seems that only the simulation of queer is cool. Within contemporary fame, perhaps straight is really the new queer? References Cashmore, E. Beckham. 2nd ed. Oxford: Polity Press, 2004. Cashmore, E., and A. Parker. “One David Beckham? Celebrity, Masculinity and the Soccerati.” Sociology of Sport Journal 20.3 (2003): 214-31. Dyer, R. Stars. 2nd ed. London: BFI, 1998. Hall, S. “Encoding/Decoding.” Reprinted from original 1977 publication at Birmingham Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies. Culture, Media, Language. Ed. S. Hall. London: Unwin Hyman, 1990. Marshall, P.D. Celebrity and Power: Fame in Contemporary Culture. London: U of Minneapolis P, 1997. Mort, F. “Boy’s Own? Masculinity, Style and Popular Culture.” Male Order. Unwrapping Masculinity. Eds. J. Chapman and J. Rutherford. London, Lawrence and Wishart, 1998. 193-224. Nixon, S. Hard Looks: Masculinities, Spectatorship and Contemporary Consumption. London: UCL Press, 1996. Rahman, M. “David Beckham as a Historical Moment in the Representation of Masculinity.” Labour History Review 69.2 (Aug. 2004): 219-34. Turner, G. Understanding Celebrity. London: Sage, 2004. Whannel, G. Media Sport Stars: Masculinities and Moralities. London: Routledge, 2002. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Rahman, Mohmin. "Is Straight the New Queer?: David Beckham and the Dialectics of Celebrity." M/C Journal 7.5 (2004). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/15-rahman.php>. APA Style Rahman, M. (Nov. 2004) "Is Straight the New Queer?: David Beckham and the Dialectics of Celebrity," M/C Journal, 7(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/15-rahman.php>.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
23

Gorman-Murray, Andrew, and Robyn Dowling. "Home." M/C Journal 10, no. 4 (2007). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.2679.

Full text
Abstract:

 
 
 Previously limited and somewhat neglected as a focus of academic scrutiny, interest in home and domesticity is now growing apace across the humanities and social sciences (Mallett; Blunt, “Cultural Geographies of Home”; Blunt and Dowling). This is evidenced in the recent publication of a range of books on home from various disciplines (Chapman and Hockey; Cieraad; Miller; Chapman; Pink; Blunt and Dowling), the advent in 2004 of a new journal, Home Cultures, focused specifically on the subject of home and domesticity, as well as similar recent special issues in several other journals, including Antipode, Cultural Geographies, Signs and Housing, Theory and Society. This increased interest in the home as a site of social and cultural inquiry reflects a renewed fascination with home and domesticity in the media, popular culture and everyday life. Domestic life is explicitly central to the plot and setting of many popular and/or critically-acclaimed television programs, especially suburban dramas like Neighbours [Australia], Coronation Street [UK], Desperate Housewives [US] and The Secret Life of Us [Australia]. The deeply-held value of home – as a place that must be saved or found – is also keenly represented in films such as The Castle [Australia], Floating Life [Australia], Rabbit-Proof Fence [Australia], House of Sand and Fog [US], My Life as a House [US] and Under the Tuscan Sun [US]. But the prominence of home in popular media imaginaries of Australia and other Western societies runs deeper than as a mere backdrop for entertainment. Perhaps most telling of all is the rise and ratings success of a range of reality and/or lifestyle television programs which provide their audiences with key information on buying, building, renovating, designing and decorating home. In Australia, these include Backyard Blitz , Renovation Rescue, The Block, Changing Rooms, DIY Rescue, Location, Location and Our House. Likewise, popular magazines like Better Homes and Gardens and Australian Vogue Living tell us how to make our homes more beautiful and functional. Other reality programs, meanwhile, focus on how we might secure the borders of our suburban homes (Crimewatch [UK]) and our homeland (Border Security [Australia]). Home is also a strong theme in other media forms and debates, including life writing, novels, art and public dialogue about immigration and national values (see Blunt and Dowling). Indeed, notions of home increasingly frame ‘real world’ experiences, “especially for the historically unprecedented number of people migrating across countries”, where movement and resettlement are often configured through processes of leaving and establishing home (Blunt and Dowling 2). In this issue of M/C Journal we contribute to these critical voices and popular debates, seeking to further untangle the intricate and multi-layered connections between home and everyday life in the contemporary world. Before introducing the articles comprising this issue, we want to extend some of the key themes that weave through academic and popular discussions of home and domesticity, and which are taken up and extended here by the subsequent articles. Home is powerful, emotive and multi-faceted. As a basic desire for many, home is saturated with the meanings, memories, emotions, experiences and relationships of everyday life. The idea and place of home is perhaps typically configured through a positive sense of attachment, as a place of belonging, intimacy, security, relationship and selfhood. Indeed, many reinforce their sense of self, their identity, through an investment in their home, whether as house, hometown or homeland. But at the same time, home is not always a well-spring of succour and goodness; others experience alienation, rejection, hostility, danger and fear ‘at home’. Home can be a site of domestic violence or ‘house arrest’; young gay men and lesbians may feel alienated in the family home; asylum seekers are banished from their homelands; indigenous peoples are often dispossessed of their homelands; refugees might be isolated from a sense of belonging in their new home(land)s. But while this may seriously mitigate the affirmative experience of home, many still yearn for places, both figurative and material, to call ‘home’ – places of support, nourishment and belonging. The experience of violence, loss, marginalisation or dispossession can trigger, in Michael Brown’s words, “the search for a new place to call home”: “it means having to relocate oneself, to leave home and reconfigure it elsewhere” (50). Home, in this sense, understood as an ambiguous site of both belonging and alienation, is not a fixed and static location which ‘grounds’ an essential and unchanging sense of self. Rather, home is a process. If home enfolds and carries some sense of desire for positive feelings of attachment – and the papers in this special issue certainly suggest so, most quite explicitly – then equally this is a relationship that requires ongoing maintenance. Blunt and Dowling call these processes ‘homemaking practices’, and point to how home must be understood as a lived space which is “continually created and recreated through everyday practices” (23). In this way, home is posited as relational – the ever-changing outcome of the ongoing and mediated interaction between self, others and place. What stands out in much of the above discussion is the deep inter-connection between home, identity and self. Across the humanities and social sciences, home has been keenly explored as a crucial site “for the construction and reconstruction of one’s self” (Young 153). Indeed, Blunt and Dowling contend that “home as a place and an imaginary constitutes identities – people’s sense of themselves are related to and produced through lived and imaginative experiences of home” (24). Thus, through various homemaking practices, individuals generate a sense of self (and social groups produce a sense of collective identity) while they create a place called home. Moreover, as a relational entity, neither home nor identity are fixed, but mutually and ongoingly co-constituted. Homemaking enables changing and cumulative identities to be materialised in and supported by the home (Blunt and Dowling). Unfolding identities are progressively embedded and reflected in the home through both everyday practices and routines (Wise; Young), and accumulating and arranging personally meaningful objects (Marcoux; Noble, “Accumulating Being”). Consequently, as one ‘makes home’, one accumulates a sense of self. Given these intimate material and affective links between home, self and identity, it is perhaps not surprising that writing about a place called home has often been approached autobiographically (Blunt and Dowling). Emphasising the importance of autobiographical accounts for understanding home, Blunt argues that “through their accounts of personal memories and everyday experiences, life stories provide a particularly rich source for studying home and identity” (“Home and Identity”, 73). We draw attention to the importance of autobiographical accounts of home because this approach is prominent across the papers comprising this issue of M/C Journal. The authors have used autobiographical reflections to consider the meanings of home and processes of homemaking operating at various scales. Three papers – by Brett Mills, Lisa Slater and Nahid Kabir – are explicitly autobiographical, weaving scholarly arguments through deeply personal experiences, and thus providing evocative first-hand accounts of the power of home in the contemporary world. At the same time, several other authors – including Melissa Gregg, Gilbert Caluya and Jennifer Gamble – use personal experiences about home, belonging and exclusion to introduce or illustrate their scholarly contentions about home, self and identity. As this discussion suggests, home is relational in another way, too: it is the outcome of a relationship between material and imaginative qualities. Home is somewhere – it is situated, located, emplaced. But it is also much more than a location – as suggested by the saying, ‘A house is not a home’. Rather, a house becomes a home when it is imbued with a range of meanings, feelings and experiences by its occupants. Home, thus, is a fusion of the imaginative and affective – what we envision and desire home to be – intertwined with the material and physical – an actual location which can embody and realise our need for belonging, affirmation and sustenance. Blunt and Dowling capture this relationship between emplacement and emotion – the material and the imaginative – with their powerful assertion of home as a spatial imaginary, where “home is neither the dwelling nor the feeling, but the relation between the two” (22). Moreover, they demonstrate that this conceptualisation also detaches ‘home’ from ‘dwelling’ per se, and invokes the creation of home – as a space and feeling of belonging – at sites and scales beyond the domestic house. Instead, as a spatial imaginary, home takes form as “a set of intersecting and variable ideas and feelings, which are related to context, and which construct places, extend across spaces and scales, and connects places” (Blunt and Dowling 2). The concept of home, then, entails complex scalarity: indeed, it is a multi-scalar spatial imaginary. Put quite simply, scale is a geographical concept which draws attention to the layered arenas of everyday life – body, house, neighbourhood, city, region, nation and globe, for instance – and this terminology can help extend our understanding of home. Certainly, for many, house and home are conflated, so that a sense of home is coterminous with a physical dwelling structure (e.g. Dupuis and Thorns). For others, however, home is signified by intimate familial or community relationships which extend beyond the residence and stretch across a neighbourhood (e.g. Moss). And moreover, without contradiction, we can speak of hometowns and homelands, so that home can be felt at the scale of the town, city, region or nation (e.g. Blunt, Domicile and Diaspora). For others – international migrants and refugees, global workers, communities of mixed descent – home can be stretched into transnational belongings (e.g. Blunt, “Cultural Geographies of Home”). But this notion of home as a multi-scalar spatial imaginary is yet more complicated. While the above arenas (house, neighbourhood, nation, globe, etc.) are often simply posited as discrete territories, they also intersect and interact in complex ways (Massey; Marston). Extending this perspective, we can grasp the possibility of personal and collective homemaking processes operating across multiple scales simultaneously. For instance, making a house into a home invariably involves generating a sense of home and familiarity in a wider neighbourhood or nation-state. Indeed, Greg Noble points out that homemaking at the scale of the dwelling can be inflected by broader social and national values which are reflected materially in the house, in “the furniture of everyday life” (“Comfortable and Relaxed”, 55) – landscape paintings and national flags and ornaments, for example. He demonstrates that “homes articulate domestic spaces to national experience” (54). For others – those moving internationally between nation-states – domestic practices in dwelling structures are informed by cultural values and social ideals which extend well beyond the nation of settlement. Everyday domestic practices from one’s ‘land of origin’ are integral for ‘making home’ in a new house, neighbourhood and country at the same time (Hage). Many of the papers in this issue reflect upon the multi-scalarity of homemaking processes, showing how home must be generated across the multiple intersecting arenas of everyday life simultaneously. Indeed, given this prominence across the papers, we have chosen to use the scale of home as our organising principle for this issue. We begin with the links between the body – the geography closest to our skin (McDowell) – the home, and other scales, and then wind our way out through evocations of home at the intersecting scales of the house, the neighbourhood, the city, the nation and the diasporic. The rhetoric of home and belonging not only suggests which types of places can be posited as home (e.g. houses, neighbourhoods, nations), but also valorises some social relations and embodied identities as homely and others as unhomely (Blunt and Dowling; Gorman-Murray). The dominant ideology of home in the Anglophonic West revolves around the imaginary ‘ideal’ of white, middle-class, heterosexual nuclear family households in suburban dwellings (Blunt and Dowling). In our lead paper, Melissa Gregg explores how the ongoing normalisation of this particular conception of home in Australian politico-cultural discourse affects two marginalised social groups – sexual minorities and indigenous Australians. Her analysis is timely, responding to recent political attention to the domestic lives of both groups. Scrutinising the disciplinary power of ‘normal homes’, Gregg explores how unhomely (queer and indigenous) subjects and relationships unsettle the links between homely bodies, ideal household forms and national belonging in politico-cultural rhetoric. Importantly, she draws attention to the common experiences of these marginalised groups, urging “queer and black activists to join forces against wider tendencies that affect both communities”. Our first few papers then continue to investigate intersections between bodies, houses and neighbourhoods. Moving to the American context – but quite recognisable in Australia – Lisa Roney examines the connection between bodies and houses on the US lifestyle program, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, in which families with disabled members are over-represented as subjects in need of home renovations. Like Gregg, Roney demonstrates that the rhetoric of home is haunted by the issue of ‘normalisation’ – in this case, EMHE ‘corrects’ and normalises disabled bodies through providing ‘ideal’ houses. In doing so, there is often a disjuncture between the homely ideal and what would be most helpful for the everyday domestic lives of these subjects. From an architectural perspective, Marian Macken also considers the disjuncture between bodily practices, inhabitation and ideal houses. While traditional documentation of house designs in working drawings capture “the house at an ideal moment in time”, Macken argues for post factum documentation of the house, a more dynamic form of architectural recording produced ‘after-the-event’ which interprets ‘the existing’ rather than the ideal. This type of documentation responds to the needs of the body in the inhabited space of domestic architecture, representing the flurry of occupancy, “the changes and traces the inhabitants make upon” the space of the house. Gilbert Caluya also explores the links between bodies and ideal houses, but from a different viewpoint – that of the perceived need for heightened home security in contemporary suburban Australia. With the rise of electronic home security systems, our houses have become extensions of our bodies – ‘architectural nervous systems’ which extend our eyes, ears and senses through modern security technologies. The desire for home security is predicated on controlling the interplay between the house and wider scales – the need to create a private and secure defensible space in hostile suburbia. But at the same time, heightened home security measures ironically connect the mediated home into a global network of electronic grids and military technologies. Thus, new forms of electronic home security stretch home from the body to the globe. Irmi Karl also considers the connections between technologies and subjectivities in domestic space. Her UK-based ethnographic analysis of lesbians’ techo-practices at home also considers, like Gregg, tactics of resistance to the normalisation of the heterosexual nuclear family home. Karl focuses on the TV set as a ‘straightening device’ – both through its presence as a key marker of ‘family homes’ and through the heteronormative content of programming – while at the same time investigating how her lesbian respondents renegotiated the domestic through practices which resisted the hetero-regulation of the TV – through watching certain videos, for instance, or even hiding the TV set away. Susan Thompson employs a similar ethnographic approach to understanding domestic practices which challenge normative meanings of home, but her subject is quite different. In an Australian-based study, Thompson explores meanings of home in the wake of relationship breakdown of heterosexual couples. For her respondents, their houses embodied their relationships in profoundly symbolic and physical ways. The deterioration and end of their relationships was mirrored in the material state of the house. The end of a relationship also affected homely, familiar connections to the wider neighbourhood. But there was also hope: new houses became sources of empowerment for former partners, and new meanings of home were created in the transition to a new life. Brett Mills also explores meanings of home at different scales – the house, neighbourhood and city – but returns to the focus on television and media technologies. His is a personal, but scholarly, response to seeing his own home on the television program Torchwood, filmed in Cardiff, UK. Mills thus puts a new twist on autobiographical narratives of home and identity: he uses this approach to examine the link between home and media portrayals, and how personal reactions to “seeing your home on television” change everyday perceptions of home at the scales of the house, neighbourhood and city. His reflection on “what happens when your home is on television” is solidly but unobtrusively interwoven with scholarly work on home and media, and speaks to the productive tension of home as material and imaginative. As the above suggests, especially with Mills’s paper, we have begun to move from the homely connections between bodies and houses to focus on those between houses, neighbourhoods and beyond. The next few papers extend these wider connections. Peter Pugsley provides a critical analysis of the meaning of domestic settings in three highly-successful Singaporean sitcoms. He argues that the domestic setting in these sitcoms has a crucial function in the Singaporean nation-state, linking the domestic home and national homeland: it is “a valuable site for national identities to be played out” in terms of the dominant modes of culture and language. Thus, in these domestic spaces, national values are normalised and disseminated – including the valorisation of multiculturalism, the dominance of Chinese cultural norms, benign patriarchy, and ‘proper’ educated English. Donna Lee Brien, Leonie Rutherford and Rosemary Williamson also demonstrate the interplay between ‘private’ and ‘public’ spaces and values in their case studies of the domestic sphere in cyberspace, examining three online communities which revolve around normatively domestic activities – pet-keeping, crafting and cooking. Their compelling case studies provide new ways to understand the space of the home. Home can be ‘stretched’ across public and private, virtual and physical spaces, so that “online communities can be seen to be domesticated, but, equally … the activities and relationships that have traditionally defined the home are not limited to the physical space of the house”. Furthermore, as they contend in their conclusion, these extra-domestic networks “can significantly modify practices and routines in the physical home”. Jennifer Gamble also considers the interplay of the virtual and the physical, and how home is not confined to the physical house. Indeed, the domestic is almost completely absent from the new configurations of home she offers: she conceptualises home as a ‘holding environment’ which services our needs and provides care, support and ontological security. Gamble speculates on the possibility of a holding environment which spans the real and virtual worlds, encompassing email, chatrooms and digital social networks. Importantly, she also considers what happens when there are ruptures and breaks in the holding environment, and how physical or virtual dimensions can compensate for these instances. Also rescaling home beyond the domestic, Alexandra Ludewig investigates concepts of home at the scale of the nation-state or ‘homeland’. She focuses on the example of Germany since World War II, and especially since re-unification, and provides an engaging discussion of the articulation between home and the German concept of ‘Heimat’. She shows how Heimat is ambivalent – it is hard to grasp the sense of longing for homeland until it is gone. Thus, Heimat is something that must be constantly reconfigured and maintained. Taken up in a critical manner, it also attains positive values, and Ludewig suggests how Heimat can be employed to address the Australian context of homeland (in)security and questions of indigenous belonging in the contemporary nation-state. Indeed, the next couple of papers focus on the vexed issue of building a sense home and belonging at the scale of the nation-state for non-indigenous Australians. Lisa Slater’s powerful autobiographical reflection considers how non-indigenous Australians might find a sense of home and belonging while recognising prior indigenous ownership of the land. She critically reflects upon “how non-indigenous subjects are positioned in relation to the original owners not through migrancy but through possession”. Slater urges us to “know our place” – we need not despair, but use such remorse in a productive manner to remake our sense of home in Australia – a sense of home sensitive to and respectful of indigenous rights. Nahid Kabir also provides an evocative and powerful autobiographical narrative about finding a sense of home and belonging in Australia for another group ‘beyond the pale’ – Muslim Australians. Hers is a first-hand account of learning to ‘feel at home’ in Australia. She asks some tough questions of both Muslim and non-Muslim Australians about how to accommodate difference in this country. Moreover, her account shows the homing processes of diasporic subjects – transnational homemaking practices which span several countries, and which enable individuals and social groups to generate senses of belonging which cross multiple borders simultaneously. Our final paper also contemplates the homing desires of diasporic subjects and the call of homelands – at the same time bringing our attention back to home at the scales of the house, neighbourhood, city and nation. As such, Wendy Varney’s paper brings us full circle, lucidly invoking home as a multi-scalar spatial imaginary by exploring the diverse and complex themes of home in popular music. Given the prevalence of yearnings about home in music, it is surprising so little work has explored the powerful conceptions of home disseminated in and through this widespread and highly mobile media form. Varney’s analysis thus makes an important contribution to our understandings of home presented in media discourses in the contemporary world, and its multi-scalar range is a fitting way to bring this issue to a close. Finally, we want to draw attention to the cover art by Rohan Tate that opens our issue. A Sydney-based photographer, Tate is interested in the design of house, home and the domestic form, both in terms of exteriors and interiors. This image from suburban Sydney captures the shifting styles of home in suburban Australia, giving us a crisp juxtaposition between modern and (re-valued) traditional housing forms. Bringing this issue together has been quite a task. We received 60 high quality submissions, and selecting the final 14 papers was a difficult process. Due to limits on the size of the issue, several good papers were left out. We thank the reviewers for taking the time to provide such thorough and useful reports, and encourage those authors who did not make it into this issue to keep seeking outlets for their work. The number of excellent submissions shows that home continues to be a growing and engaging theme in social and cultural inquiry. As editors, we hope that this issue of M/C Journal will make a vital contribution to this important range of scholarship, bringing together 14 new and innovative perspectives on the experience, location, creation and meaning of home in the contemporary world. References Blunt, Alison. “Home and Identity: Life Stories in Text and in Person.” Cultural Geography in Practice. Eds. Alison Blunt, Pyrs Gruffudd, Jon May, Miles Ogborn, and David Pinder. London: Arnold, 2003. 71-87. ———. Domicile and Diaspora: Anglo-Indian Women and the Spatial Politics of Home. Malden: Blackwell, 2005. ———. “Cultural Geographies of Home.” Progress in Human Geography 29.4 (2005): 505-515. ———, and Robyn Dowling. Home. London: Routledge, 2006. Brown, Michael. Closet Space: Geographies of Metaphor from the Body to the Globe. London: Routledge, 2000. Chapman, Tony. Gender and Domestic Life: Changing Practices in Families and Households. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004. ———, and Jenny Hockey, eds. Ideal Homes? Social Change and Domestic Life. London: Routledge, 1999. Cieraad, Irene, ed. At Home: An Anthropology of Domestic Space. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1999. Dupuis, Ann, and David Thorns. “Home, Home Ownership and the Search for Ontological Security.” The Sociological Review 46.1 (1998): 24-47. Gorman-Murray, Andrew. “Homeboys: Uses of Home by Gay Australian Men.” Social and Cultural Geography 7.1 (2006): 53-69. Hage, Ghassan. “At Home in the Entrails of the West: Multiculturalism, Ethnic Food and Migrant Home-Building.” Home/world: Space, Community and Marginality in Sydney’s West. Eds. Helen Grace, Ghassan Hage, Lesley Johnson, Julie Langsworth and Michael Symonds. Annandale: Pluto, 1997. 99-153. Mallett, Shelley. “Understanding Home: A Critical Review of the Literature.” The Sociological Review 52.1 (2004): 62-88. Marcoux, Jean-Sébastien. “The Refurbishment of Memory.” Home Possessions: Material Culture Behind Closed Doors. Ed. Daniel Miller. Oxford: Berg, 2001. 69-86. Marston, Sally. “A Long Way From Home: Domesticating the Social Production of Scale.” Scale and Geographic Inquiry: Nature, Society and Method. Eds. Eric Sheppard and Robert McMaster. Oxford: Blackwell, 2004. 170-191. Massey, Doreen. “A Place Called Home.” New Formations 17 (1992): 3-15. McDowell, Linda. Gender, Identity and Place: Understanding Feminist Geographies. Cambridge: Polity, 1999. Miller, Daniel, ed. Home Possessions: Material Culture Behind Closed Doors. Oxford: Berg, 2001. Moss, Pamela. “Negotiating Space in Home Environments: Older Women Living with Arthritis.” Social Science and Medicine 45.1 (1997): 23-33. Noble, Greg. “Comfortable and Relaxed: Furnishing the Home and Nation.” Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies 16.1 (2002): 53-66. ———. “Accumulating Being.” International Journal of Cultural Studies 7.2 (2004): 233-256. Pink, Sarah. Home Truths: Gender, Domestic Objects and Everyday Life. Oxford: Berg, 2004. Wise, J. Macgregor. “Home: Territory and Identity.” Cultural Studies 14.2 (2000): 295-310. Young, Iris Marion. “House and Home: Feminist Variations on a Theme.” On Female Body Experience: ‘Throwing Like a Girl’ and Other Essays. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. 123-154. 
 
 
 
 Citation reference for this article
 
 MLA Style
 Gorman-Murray, Andrew, and Robyn Dowling. "Home." M/C Journal 10.4 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/01-editorial.php>. APA Style
 Gorman-Murray, A., and R. Dowling. (Aug. 2007) "Home," M/C Journal, 10(4). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/01-editorial.php>. 
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
24

Woldeyes, Yirga Gelaw. "“Holding Living Bodies in Graveyards”: The Violence of Keeping Ethiopian Manuscripts in Western Institutions." M/C Journal 23, no. 2 (2020). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.1621.

Full text
Abstract:
IntroductionThere are two types of Africa. The first is a place where people and cultures live. The second is the image of Africa that has been invented through colonial knowledge and power. The colonial image of Africa, as the Other of Europe, a land “enveloped in the dark mantle of night” was supported by western states as it justified their colonial practices (Hegel 91). Any evidence that challenged the myth of the Dark Continent was destroyed, removed or ignored. While the looting of African natural resources has been studied, the looting of African knowledges hasn’t received as much attention, partly based on the assumption that Africans did not produce knowledge that could be stolen. This article invalidates this myth by examining the legacy of Ethiopia’s indigenous Ge’ez literature, and its looting and abduction by powerful western agents. The article argues that this has resulted in epistemic violence, where students of the Ethiopian indigenous education system do not have access to their books, while European orientalists use them to interpret Ethiopian history and philosophy using a foreign lens. The analysis is based on interviews with teachers and students of ten Ge’ez schools in Ethiopia, and trips to the Ethiopian manuscript collections in The British Library, The Princeton Library, the Institute of Ethiopian Studies and The National Archives in Addis Ababa.The Context of Ethiopian Indigenous KnowledgesGe’ez is one of the ancient languages of Africa. According to Professor Ephraim Isaac, “about 10,000 years ago, one single nation or community of a single linguistic group existed in Ethiopia, Eritrea, and the Horn of Africa” (The Habesha). The language of this group is known as Proto-Afroasiatic or Afrasian languages. It is the ancestor of the Semitic, Cushitic, Nilotic, Omotic and other languages that are currently spoken in Ethiopia by its 80 ethnic groups, and the neighbouring countries (Diakonoff). Ethiopians developed the Ge’ez language as their lingua franca with its own writing system some 2000 years ago. Currently, Ge’ez is the language of academic scholarship, studied through the traditional education system (Isaac, The Ethiopian). Since the fourth century, an estimated 1 million Ge’ez manuscripts have been written, covering religious, historical, mathematical, medicinal, and philosophical texts.One of the most famous Ge’ez manuscripts is the Kebra Nagast, a foundational text that embodied the indigenous conception of nationhood in Ethiopia. The philosophical, political and religious themes in this book, which craft Ethiopia as God’s country and the home of the Ark of the Covenant, contributed to the country’s success in defending itself from European colonialism. The production of books like the Kebra Nagast went hand in hand with a robust indigenous education system that trained poets, scribes, judges, artists, administrators and priests. Achieving the highest stages of learning requires about 30 years after which the scholar would be given the rare title Arat-Ayina, which means “four eyed”, a person with the ability to see the past as well as the future. Today, there are around 50,000 Ge’ez schools across the country, most of which are in rural villages and churches.Ge’ez manuscripts are important textbooks and reference materials for students. They are carefully prepared from vellum “to make them last forever” (interview, 3 Oct. 2019). Some of the religious books are regarded as “holy persons who breathe wisdom that gives light and food to the human soul”. Other manuscripts, often prepared as scrolls are used for medicinal purposes. Each manuscript is uniquely prepared reflecting inherited wisdom on contemporary lives using the method called Tirguamme, the act of giving meaning to sacred texts. Preparation of books is costly. Smaller manuscript require the skins of 50-70 goats/sheep and large manuscript needed 100-120 goats/sheep (Tefera).The Loss of Ethiopian ManuscriptsSince the 18th century, a large quantity of these manuscripts have been stolen, looted, or smuggled out of the country by travellers who came to the country as explorers, diplomats and scientists. The total number of Ethiopian manuscripts taken is still unknown. Amsalu Tefera counted 6928 Ethiopian manuscripts currently held in foreign libraries and museums. This figure does not include privately held or unofficial collections (41).Looting and smuggling were sponsored by western governments, institutions, and notable individuals. For example, in 1868, The British Museum Acting Director Richard Holms joined the British army which was sent to ‘rescue’ British hostages at Maqdala, the capital of Emperor Tewodros. Holms’ mission was to bring treasures for the Museum. Before the battle, Tewodros had established the Medhanialem library with more than 1000 manuscripts as part of Ethiopia’s “industrial revolution”. When Tewodros lost the war and committed suicide, British soldiers looted the capital, including the treasury and the library. They needed 200 mules and 15 elephants to transport the loot and “set fire to all buildings so that no trace was left of the edifices which once housed the manuscripts” (Rita Pankhurst 224). Richard Holmes collected 356 manuscripts for the Museum. A wealthy British woman called Lady Meux acquired some of the most illuminated manuscripts. In her will, she bequeathed them to be returned to Ethiopia. However, her will was reversed by court due to a campaign from the British press (Richard Pankhurst). In 2018, the V&A Museum in London displayed some of the treasures by incorporating Maqdala into the imperial narrative of Britain (Woldeyes, Reflections).Britain is by no means the only country to seek Ethiopian manuscripts for their collections. Smuggling occurred in the name of science, an act of collecting manuscripts for study. Looting involved local collaborators and powerful foreign sponsors from places like France, Germany and the Vatican. Like Maqdala, this was often sponsored by governments or powerful financers. For example, the French government sponsored the Dakar-Djibouti Mission led by Marcel Griaule, which “brought back about 350 manuscripts and scrolls from Gondar” (Wion 2). It was often claimed that these manuscripts were purchased, rather than looted. Johannes Flemming of Germany was said to have purchased 70 manuscripts and ten scrolls for the Royal Library of Berlin in 1905. However, there was no local market for buying manuscripts. Ge’ez manuscripts were, and still are, written to serve spiritual and secular life in Ethiopia, not for buying and selling. There are countless other examples, but space limits how many can be provided in this article. What is important to note is that museums and libraries have accrued impressive collections without emphasising how those collections were first obtained. The loss of the intellectual heritage of Ethiopians to western collectors has had an enormous impact on the country.Knowledge Grabbing: The Denial of Access to KnowledgeWith so many manuscripts lost, European collectors became the narrators of Ethiopian knowledge and history. Edward Ullendorff, a known orientalist in Ethiopian studies, refers to James Bruce as “the explorer of Abyssinia” (114). Ullendorff commented on the significance of Bruce’s travel to Ethiopia asperhaps the most important aspect of Bruce’s travels was the collection of Ethiopic manuscripts… . They opened up entirely new vistas for the study of Ethiopian languages and placed this branch of Oriental scholarship on a much more secure basis. It is not known how many MSS. reached Europe through his endeavours, but the present writer is aware of at least twenty-seven, all of which are exquisite examples of Ethiopian manuscript art. (133)This quote encompasses three major ways in which epistemic violence occurs: denial of access to knowledge, Eurocentric interpretation of Ethiopian manuscripts, and the handling of Ge’ez manuscripts as artefacts from the past. These will be discussed below.Western ‘travellers’, such as Bruce, did not fully disclose how many manuscripts they took or how they acquired them. The abundance of Ethiopian manuscripts in western institutions can be compared to the scarcity of such materials among traditional schools in Ethiopia. In this research, I have visited ten indigenous schools in Wollo (Lalibela, Neakutoleab, Asheten, Wadla), in Gondar (Bahita, Kuskwam, Menbere Mengist), and Gojam (Bahirdar, Selam Argiew Maryam, Giorgis). In all of the schools, there is lack of Ge’ez manuscripts. Students often come from rural villages and do not receive any government support. The scarcity of Ge’ez manuscripts, and the lack of funding which might allow for the purchasing of books, means the students depend mainly on memorising Ge’ez texts told to them from the mouth of their teacher. Although this method of learning is not new, it currently is the only way for passing indigenous knowledges across generations.The absence of manuscripts is most strongly felt in the advanced schools. For instance, in the school of Qene, poetic literature is created through an in-depth study of the vocabulary and grammar of Ge’ez. A Qene student is required to develop a deep knowledge of Ge’ez in order to understand ancient and medieval Ge’ez texts which are used to produce poetry with multiple meanings. Without Ge’ez manuscripts, students cannot draw their creative works from the broad intellectual tradition of their ancestors. When asked how students gain access to textbooks, one student commented:we don’t have access to Birana books (Ge’ez manuscripts written on vellum). We cannot learn the ancient wisdom of painting, writing, and computing developed by our ancestors. We simply buy paper books such as Dawit (Psalms), Sewasew (grammar) or Degwa (book of songs with notations) and depend on our teachers to teach us the rest. We also lend these books to each other as many students cannot afford to buy them. Without textbooks, we expect to spend double the amount of time it would take if we had textbooks. (Interview, 3 Sep. 2019)Many students interrupt their studies and work as labourers to save up and buy paper textbooks, but they still don’t have access to the finest works taken to Europe. Most Ge’ez manuscripts remaining in Ethiopia are locked away in monasteries, church stores or other places to prevent further looting. The manuscripts in Addis Ababa University and the National Archives are available for researchers but not to the students of the indigenous system, creating a condition of internal knowledge grabbing.While the absence of Ge’ez manuscripts denied, and continues to deny, Ethiopians the chance to enrich their indigenous education, it benefited western orientalists to garner intellectual authority on the field of Ethiopian studies. In 1981, British Museum Director John Wilson said, “our Abyssinian holdings are more important than our Indian collection” (Bell 231). In reaction, Richard Pankhurst, the Director of Ethiopian Studies in Addis Ababa, responded that the collection was acquired through plunder. Defending the retaining of Maqdala manuscripts in Europe, Ullendorff wrote:neither Dr. Pankhurst nor the Ethiopian and western scholars who have worked on this collection (and indeed on others in Europe) could have contributed so significantly to the elucidation of Ethiopian history without the rich resources available in this country. Had they remained insitu, none of this would have been possible. (Qtd. in Bell 234)The manuscripts are therefore valued based on their contribution to western scholarship only. This is a continuation of epistemic violence whereby local knowledges are used as raw materials to produce Eurocentric knowledge, which in turn is used to teach Africans as though they had no prior knowledge. Scholars are defined as those western educated persons who can speak European languages and can travel to modern institutions to access the manuscripts. Knowledge grabbing regards previous owners as inexistent or irrelevant for the use of the grabbed knowledges.Knowledge grabbing also means indigenous scholars are deprived of critical resources to produce new knowledge based on their intellectual heritage. A Qene teacher commented: our students could not devote their time and energy to produce new knowledges in the same way our ancestors did. We have the tradition of Madeladel, Kimera, Kuteta, Mielad, Qene and tirguamme where students develop their own system of remembering, reinterpreting, practicing, and rewriting previous manuscripts and current ones. Without access to older manuscripts, we increasingly depend on preserving what is being taught orally by elders. (Interview, 4 Sep. 2019)This point is important as it relates to the common myth that indigenous knowledges are artefacts belonging to the past, not the present. There are millions of people who still use these knowledges, but the conditions necessary for their reproduction and improvement is denied through knowledge grabbing. The view of Ge’ez manuscripts as artefacts dismisses the Ethiopian view that Birana manuscripts are living persons. As a scholar told me in Gondar, “they are creations of Egziabher (God), like all of us. Keeping them in institutions is like keeping living bodies in graveyards” (interview, 5 Oct. 2019).Recently, the collection of Ethiopian manuscripts by western institutions has also been conducted digitally. Thousands of manuscripts have been microfilmed or digitised. For example, the EU funded Ethio-SPaRe project resulted in the digital collection of 2000 Ethiopian manuscripts (Nosnitsin). While digitisation promises better access for people who may not be able to visit institutions to see physical copies, online manuscripts are not accessible to indigenous school students in Ethiopia. They simply do not have computer or internet access and the manuscripts are catalogued in European languages. Both physical and digital knowledge grabbing results in the robbing of Ethiopian intellectual heritage, and denies the possibility of such manuscripts being used to inform local scholarship. Epistemic Violence: The European as ExpertWhen considered in relation to stolen or appropriated manuscripts, epistemic violence is the way in which local knowledge is interpreted using a foreign epistemology and gained dominance over indigenous worldviews. European scholars have monopolised the field of Ethiopian Studies by producing books, encyclopaedias and digital archives based on Ethiopian manuscripts, almost exclusively in European languages. The contributions of their work for western scholarship is undeniable. However, Kebede argues that one of the detrimental effects of this orientalist literature is the thesis of Semiticisation, the designation of the origin of Ethiopian civilisation to the arrival of Middle Eastern colonisers rather than indigenous sources.The thesis is invented to make the history of Ethiopia consistent with the Hegelian western view that Africa is a Dark Continent devoid of a civilisation of its own. “In light of the dominant belief that black peoples are incapable of great achievements, the existence of an early and highly advanced civilization constitutes a serious anomaly in the Eurocentric construction of the world” (Kebede 4). To address this anomaly, orientalists like Ludolph attributed the origin of Ethiopia’s writing system, agriculture, literature, and civilisation to the arrival of South Arabian settlers. For example, in his translation of the Kebra Nagast, Budge wrote: “the SEMITES found them [indigenous Ethiopians] negro savages, and taught them civilization and culture and the whole scriptures on which their whole literature is based” (x).In line with the above thesis, Dillman wrote that “the Abyssinians borrowed their Numerical Signs from the Greeks” (33). The views of these orientalist scholars have been challenged. For instance, leading scholar of Semitic languages Professor Ephraim Isaac considers the thesis of the Arabian origin of Ethiopian civilization “a Hegelian Eurocentric philosophical perspective of history” (2). Isaac shows that there is historical, archaeological, and linguistic evidence that suggest Ethiopia to be more advanced than South Arabia from pre-historic times. Various Ethiopian sources including the Kebra Nagast, the works of historian Asres Yenesew, and Ethiopian linguist Girma Demeke provide evidence for the indigenous origin of Ethiopian civilisation and languages.The epistemic violence of the Semeticisation thesis lies in how this Eurocentric ideological construction is the dominant narrative in the field of Ethiopian history and the education system. Unlike the indigenous view, the orientalist view is backed by strong institutional power both in Ethiopia and abroad. The orientalists control the field of Ethiopian studies and have access to Ge’ez manuscripts. Their publications are the only references for Ethiopian students. Due to Native Colonialism, a system of power run by native elites through the use of colonial ideas and practices (Woldeyes), the education system is the imitation of western curricula, including English as a medium of instruction from high school onwards. Students study the west more than Ethiopia. Indigenous sources are generally excluded as unscientific. Only the Eurocentric interpretation of Ethiopian manuscripts is regarded as scientific and objective.ConclusionEthiopia is the only African country never to be colonised. In its history it produced a large quantity of manuscripts in the Ge’ez language through an indigenous education system that involves the study of these manuscripts. Since the 19th century, there has been an ongoing loss of these manuscripts. European travellers who came to Ethiopia as discoverers, missionaries and scholars took a large number of manuscripts. The Battle of Maqdala involved the looting of the intellectual products of Ethiopia that were collected at the capital. With the introduction of western education and use of English as a medium of instruction, the state disregarded indigenous schools whose students have little access to the manuscripts. This article brings the issue of knowledge grapping, a situation whereby European institutions and scholars accumulate Ethiopia manuscripts without providing the students in Ethiopia to have access to those collections.Items such as manuscripts that are held in western institutions are not dead artefacts of the past to be preserved for prosperity. They are living sources of knowledge that should be put to use in their intended contexts. Local Ethiopian scholars cannot study ancient and medieval Ethiopia without travelling and gaining access to western institutions. This lack of access and resources has made European Ethiopianists almost the sole producers of knowledge about Ethiopian history and culture. For example, indigenous sources and critical research that challenge the Semeticisation thesis are rarely available to Ethiopian students. Here we see epistemic violence in action. Western control over knowledge production has the detrimental effect of inventing new identities, subjectivities and histories that translate into material effects in the lives of African people. In this way, Ethiopians and people all over Africa internalise western understandings of themselves and their history as primitive and in need of development or outside intervention. African’s intellectual and cultural heritage, these living bodies locked away in graveyards, must be put back into the hands of Africans.AcknowledgementThe author acknowledges the support of the Australian Academy of the Humanities' 2019 Humanities Travelling Fellowship Award in conducting this research.ReferencesBell, Stephen. “Cultural Treasures Looted from Maqdala: A Summary of Correspondence in British National Newspapers since 1981.” Kasa and Kasa. Eds. Tadesse Beyene, Richard Pankhurst, and Shifereraw Bekele. Addis Ababa: Ababa University Book Centre, 1990. 231-246.Budge, Wallis. A History of Ethiopia, Nubia and Abyssinia. London: Methuen and Co, 1982.Demeke, Girma Awgichew. The Origin of Amharic. Trenton: Red Sea Press, 2013.Diakonoff, Igor M. Afrasian Languages. Moscow: Nauka, 1988.Dillmann, August. Ethiopic Grammar. Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2005.Hegel, Georg W.F. The Philosophy of History. New York: Dover, 1956.Isaac, Ephraim. The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahido Church. New Jersey: Red Sea Press, 2013.———. “An Open Letter to an Inquisitive Ethiopian Sister.” The Habesha, 2013. 1 Feb. 2020 <http://www.zehabesha.com/an-open-letter-to-an-inquisitive-young-ethiopian-sister-ethiopian-history-is-not-three-thousand-years/>.Kebra Nagast. "The Queen of Sheba and Her Only Son Menyelik I." Trans. Wallis Budge. London: Oxford UP, 1932.Pankhurst, Richard. "The Napier Expedition and the Loot Form Maqdala." Presence Africaine 133-4 (1985): 233-40.Pankhurst, Rita. "The Maqdala Library of Tewodros." Kasa and Kasa. Eds. Tadesse Beyene, Richard Pankhurst, and Shifereraw Bekele. Addis Ababa: Ababa University Book Centre, 1990. 223-230.Tefera, Amsalu. ነቅዐ መጻህፍት ከ መቶ በላይ በግዕዝ የተጻፉ የእኢትዮጵያ መጻህፍት ዝርዝር ከማብራሪያ ጋር።. Addis Ababa: Jajaw, 2019.Nosnitsin, Denis. "Ethio-Spare Cultural Heritage of Christian Ethiopia: Salvation, Preservation and Research." 2010. 5 Jan. 2019 <https://www.aai.uni-hamburg.de/en/ethiostudies/research/ethiospare/missions/pdf/report2010-1.pdf>. Ullendorff, Edward. "James Bruce of Kinnaird." The Scottish Historical Review 32.114, part 2 (1953): 128-43.Wion, Anaïs. "Collecting Manuscripts and Scrolls in Ethiopia: The Missions of Johannes Flemming (1905) and Enno Littmann (1906)." 2012. 5 Jan. 2019 <https://halshs.archives-ouvertes.fr/halshs-00524382/document>. Woldeyes, Yirga Gelaw. Native Colonialism: Education and the Economy of Violence against Traditions in Ethiopia. Trenton: Red Sea Press, 2017.———. “Reflections on Ethiopia’s Stolen Treasures on Display in a London Museum.” The Conversation. 2018. 5 June 2018 <https://theconversation.com/reflections-on-ethiopias-stolen-treasures-on-display-in-a-london-museum-97346>.Yenesew, Asres. ትቤ፡አክሱም፡መኑ፡ አንተ? Addis Ababa: Nigid Printing House, 1959 [1951 EC].
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
25

Carmago, Sandy. "'Mind the Gap'." M/C Journal 5, no. 5 (2002). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.1981.

Full text
Abstract:
The structuring of a film's plot as the trajectory of the goals and desires of a single protagonist can be seen as the most critical development in cinematic narrative. In addition to its commodity implications via the star system and its centrality to a range of important film theories about fantasy and pleasure, the single protagonist is the linchpin of the cinema's ability to transmit messages that confirm the most basic myths about the power of the individual in society. While Hollywood's use of the single protagonist as a model for the self is particularly detrimental in the United States, the international dominance of American cinema means that this narrative convention can affect the formation of the self around the world. As a result, the single protagonist is the element that is most often critiqued by filmmakers and theorists who want cinema to be more politically engaged. In fact, one way of identifying a film that is aggressively political is to examine its treatment of the protagonist function. In Potemkin, for example, Sergei Eisenstein substitutes a group protagonist for Hollywood's individual so that he can demonstrate the unity of the people against their oppressors. Roberto Rossellini's neo-realist films Roma città aperta and Paisà likewise contain structures that are meant to undermine traditional Hollywood modes of narration since both films use what I call a serial protagonist. These strategies have become noticeably common, as multi-protagonist films have appeared in France, Hong Kong, and in the United States. As is typical, however, a cinematic strategy that trumpets political engagement in Europe is reduced to a stylish ornament in Hollywood. In American multi-protagonist films, the single protagonist is jettisoned, not to make a political statement, but in order to emphasise emotion over intellect, to encourage the audience not to think, but to feel. The two main strategies for accomplishing this goal are narrative fragmentation and disrupted character attachment. There are basically two kinds of multi-protagonist films. Margrit Tröhler calls them "group films" and "mosaic films." Group films feature an ensemble, a single large group such as a family or a gang whose stories are linked spatially to some central meeting place. Mosaic films, on the other hand, present a number of small groups, couples, or single characters. Initially, these people are linked only insofar as they happen to live in the same city at the same time, though eventually, as the narrative goes on, their stories become enmeshed, largely through coincidence. As a further breakdown, I would separate the "mosaic films" into action films and emotive films. Amores Perros and Go would be examples of multi-protagonist action films, where the most intense episodes in the film are active and violent; Magnolia and Happiness are examples of multi-protagonist emotive films, films in which the moments of greatest intensity are reactive and emotional. These intense moments, which occur as a series rather than as the result of cause-and-effect, are assumed to provide the major source of pleasure for spectators. Magnolia, directed by Paul Thomas Anderson in 1999, is perhaps the most striking of all the recent group of American multi-protagonist emotive films. Like Pulp Fiction and American Beauty, Magnolia was meant to bridge the gap between independent film and mainstream studio production. From its inception, Magnolia was planned as a quality production, and Anderson sold himself to New Line as their entrée into the prestige market. New Line, "the only major studio that has never had an Academy Award nomination for Best Picture" (Hirschberg 55), thought that Anderson would be their Quentin Tarantino and gave him total creative control. Michael De Luca, head of production at New Line, agrees with Anderson that there is a link between films like Magnolia and the films of the New American Cinema on the 1970s: "People who grew up on the 70s movies now have power around town" (Hirschberg 55), explaining why we are seeing so many experimental and edgy films since the turn of the century. The other thing that these people grew up on was TV, and narrative forms developed explicitly for television have become increasingly common in mainstream American cinema. Classic film theory analysed the spectator/protagonist relationship as one based on identification and resulting in momentary coherence and empowerment. Because the viewing practices associated with television are so different from those supported by classic cinema, these new TV-influenced films can be expected to create a different model for the self. The narrative structure that these millennial multi-protagonist films most closely resemble is that of the American daytime soap opera. Ironically, despite the low esteem in which soap operas are held, their episodic narrative structure and emphasis on emotions rather than logic directly shape much of cinematic storytelling today. Also ironically, whenever a non-soap opera text adopts soap practices, that text is seen as doing something daring. For example, TV series like Hill St. Blues that adopted soap operas' ensemble casts and arc narrative structure were labeled "quality television" (Feuer et al.). In a similar way, the fragmented narratives of multi-protagonist films like Magnolia are seen as stylish and experimental. However, the strategy is risky, since adoption of these narrative structures disrupts the strong bond that the single protagonist is expected to secure and may undermine viewers' pleasure in the film if they are not accustomed to soap-opera conventions. Whether it is a segment, a day's episode, or the entire run of the programme, the most striking aspect of soap-opera narrative is the fact it begins and ends in medias res. Emphasis on the middle of a story means that less attention is given to its beginning and end. Another way to say this is that soap operas focus most of their attention on the present. The focus on the present means that, although the characters in Magnolia clearly have pasts, they do not have histories. We do not know why Jimmy Gator molested his daughter, why Earl Partridge deserted his dying wife and 14-year-old son, what has happened to Stanley's mother, whether his father is successful in his career, or why Jim Kurring has become a cop. This lack of history makes it difficult to make moral judgements about them. The single character in Magnolia who explicitly attempts to create a history for himself is Frank Mackey, the male-empowerment guru played by Tom Cruise. Mackey says that a focus on the past is an excuse for not progressing in the present, further thematising the importance of the present. Soap narratives are created specifically for a viewing situation that incorporates a range of institutionally required ruptures -- commercials, promos, and other imbedded messages. As a result, soaps incorporate devices designed to sustain interest during these enforced breaks. The most typical of these strategies is the narrative gap created by an interrupted action or an unanswered question. On a daytime soap, we may only have to wait five minutes or so before returning to a particular narrative thread, but films with longer running times often extend that period considerably. For example, Gwenovier asks Frank why he would lie about the facts of his background. We do not return to Frank for over thirteen minutes. Soap-opera viewers are comfortable with these often silly narrative breaks because they know that the narrative line will eventually pick up exactly where it left off. That is not always the case in these films, however, and, indeed, Frank changes the subject. These lengthy interruptions clearly pose a challenge to active spectatorship as well as to audience tolerance. Since soap operas are eternal middles, the end of a story is always construed as a new beginning. Happy couples are presumed to be boring, and so no relationship is coded as permanent and impregnable. This pressure to resist closure creates a problem for narrative construction in multi-protagonist films, many of which have to go to great lengths to create anything like an ending. Generally chance or coincidence must be involved, a break with an important classical convention of narrative construction. Robert Altman needed an earthquake in Short Cuts, and P. T. Anderson needed frogs to rain down from the skies in order to begin to end Magnolia. Interestingly, while the open ending has been linked to the importance of the sequel in the New Hollywood, none of these multi-protagonist films has been the basis of a sequel. Soap operas have huge casts, and often characters will not appear every day. As a result, soaps are marked by diffuse viewer-character attachment. To ensure that the viewer will stay involved with the widest range of characters, the most effective soap stories present events from the perspectives of all parties to a conflict. As a result, on most soaps, while characters may do bad things from time to time, they are rarely represented as out-and-out villains. Like daytime soap operas, there are no villains in multi-protagonist emotive films. The wickedest character in Magnolia is the beloved game-show host who may have abused his young daughter. The film tries to ameliorate our sense of disgust by withholding this information until near the end of the film, focusing our attention instead on the facts that he is dying of cancer and that his daughter, a shrill and unattractive cocaine addict, cannot stand the sight of him. As a result, characters are not obviously coded in ways that make it easy for us to make moral judgments about them. Moreover, while the characters are single-mindedly going about their business, we are continually distracted and directed toward someone else's story. Far from being victims relentlessly carried along by the plot, the characters in these films burst into and disrupt the narratives of others, demanding our attention. The spectator must therefore contend not only with narrative ruptures but also with the need to reacquaint him- or herself with the characters and to continually renegotiate his or her relationship with them. This relationship will be affected not only by what the character was doing when we last met him or her, but on what kind of experience we have had during the intervening action. Two of the most useful ways of conceptualising the process by which we interact with characters in film -- those of Murray Smith and Carl Plantinga -- are put at a disadvantage by the multi-protagonist film. Both of these cognitive approaches describe the stages that spectators go through in deciding who the characters are and how we feel about what they do, and both reject psychoanalytic identification as part of their model. Although I ordinarily find their approaches highly useful, studying the multi-protagonist film leads me to conclude that their approaches are applicable to these films only with great difficulty. Both Smith and Plantinga ground their analyses on the conscious, intellectual, and voluntary conclusions that we make about the personalities and activities of the characters in films. Both men emphasise the power that narrative has in the formation of these emotional responses, and both minimise the involuntary and autonomic responses that derive from cinematic techniques rather than from the narrative. However, the fragmented nature of the narrative in the multi-protagonist film, the difficulty that characters have in dominating either our consciousness or their own worlds, and the diffusion of interest keep the process from working as Smith and Plantinga describe. For example, Murray Smith suggests that character attachment occurs in three stages: recognition, alignment, and allegiance. Each of these stages is compromised in the experience of viewing a multi-protagonist film. Recognition is the name given to the stage in which we notice various traits of the character and arrange them into some kind of coherent personality, much as we do when we meet people in real life. Magnolia takes advantage of this process to set traps for us: since the characters have no histories, if we stereotype them, we will fall into a trap. For example, Phil Parma, the male nurse, includes several sex magazines in his grocery order. While we might assume that Phil wants the magazines only to "read the articles," he uses them to get in touch with Frank, who advertises in them. However, since we know nothing of Phil's history, we cannot exonerate him: he may have remembered seeing Frank's ad in a previous issue of the magazine, or his seeing the advertisement now could simply be the kind of serendipitous accident thematised by the film. Alignment, the next phase in the character-attachment process, is likewise compromised by the multi-protagonist film. A film's investment in aligning us to a character is seen as a function of the quantity of time we spend with the character, of the degree of narrative restriction, of the representational strategies used with the character, and of the degree of access that we are given to that character's mental and emotional states. Unlike films with single protagonists, no character dominates screen time or narration in a multi-protagonist film. Nor is one character particularly favored cinematically: all the main characters are given close-ups, camera movements, and compositional prominence. In Magnolia, Jim the cop could be said to dominate the narrative since the primary action of the film begins and ends with him, he is presented as the film's moral centre, and a voiceover allows us access to his thoughts. But, as a figure representing law and order, and thus as a vehicle for the imposition of narrative control, he is a failure. He loses his gun, never realises that Claudia is high on cocaine, and allows Donnie to return the money that he stole from the furniture store where he used to work. Moreover, the narrational authority of Jim's voiceover is undermined: voiceover shots segue seamlessly into shots in which he is shown clearly talking out loud to himself. While this is a common soap-opera technique, it is uncommon in cinema and is likely to make us wonder whether Jim is OK. Finally, allegiance occurs when we weigh everything that we know about the character against his or her actions and make a moral judgment about him or her. Smith calls this "the structure of sympathy" and sees our feelings as falling along a continuum from sympathy to antipathy. Since there are no villains, it is likely that, with the exception of Jimmy Gator, we have a certain amount of sympathy for all the characters in Magnolia. That said, it is unlikely that we really like any of them either. Thus, I would argue that, if one does derive pleasure from the experience of seeing a multi-protagonist film like Magnolia, empathy is likely to be one's primary response. Both Plantinga and Smith marginalise empathy since both see it as an involuntary response to the film's cinematic techniques rather than as a product of the conscious processing of a film's narrative. However, it is for that very reason that I see empathy as the desired response in the multi-protagonist film. The fragmented narrative and the difficulties that it causes for character attachment make any other response problematic. Like the characters in the film, we are not supposed to think, just to feel. These films (and the daytime soaps) thematise several key aspects of life as we live it now: First, the plenitude of these films is such that they cannot be brought to an ending in the classical Hollywood sense; they do not end, they simply stop, and their stopping place is construed as a new beginning. Second, like the characters in Magnolia, our real lives are ruled by chance in ways that Hollywood used to deny. Second, even though the past remains an important narrative element -- three different voices in Magnolia say that "We may think we're done with the past, but the past is not done with us" -- the intensity of the emotions expressed by the characters tells us that the tensions of the present moment are really all that matter. Multi-protagonist films present several advantages to their producers and creators (e.g., the role of chance makes plot construction easier, a star doesn't have to carry the entire picture, the film can appeal to a broader demographic, the structure is critically marked as daring), but they also compromise the film's ability to represent the power of the individual, the theme that is central in all mainstream American films. Unfortunately, the American multi-protagonist film does not interrogate that theme or even address its absence directly. By presenting the spectator with a string of narrative fragments, these films create a series of sensational episodes in which people's emotions explode instead of buildings. The emotive blockbuster supports rather than critiques the view of the self as isolated, solipsistic, and focused on personal rather than social distress. References Epstein, Seymour. "Controversial Issues in Emotion Theory." In P. Shaver, ed. Review of Personality and Social Psychology: emotions, Relationships, and Health. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage, 1994: 66–68. Feuer, Jane, Paul Kerr, and Tise Vahimagi. MTM: "Quality Television." London: BFI, 1984. Hirschberg, Lynn. "His Way." [Profile of Paul Thomas Anderson] New York Times Magazine (19 December 1999): 52–56. Plantinga, Carl. "Affect, Cognition, and the Power of Movies." Post Script 13:1 (Fall 1993): 10–29. Smith, Murray. "Altered States: Character and Emotional Response in the Cinema." Cinema Journal 33:4 (Summer 1994): 34–56. Smith, Murray. "Cognition, Emotion, and Cinematic Narrative." Post Script 13:1 (Fall 1993): 30–45. Tröhler, Margrit. "Les films à protagonistes multiples et la logique des possibles." Iris 29 (Spring 2000): 85–102. Citation reference for this article Substitute your date of access for Dn Month Year etc... MLA Style Carmago, Sandy. "'Mind the Gap'" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5.5 (2002). [your date of access] < http://www.media-culture.org.au/mc/0210/Carmago.html &gt. Chicago Style Carmago, Sandy, "'Mind the Gap'" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5, no. 5 (2002), < http://www.media-culture.org.au/mc/0210/Carmago.html &gt ([your date of access]). APA Style Carmago, Sandy. (2002) 'Mind the Gap'. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 5(5). < http://www.media-culture.org.au/mc/0210/Carmago.html &gt ([your date of access]).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
26

Hall, Michelle. "Anchoring and Exposing in the Third Place: Regular Identification at the Boundaries of Social Realms." M/C Journal 14, no. 5 (2011). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.422.

Full text
Abstract:
I was at Harry’s last night, ostensibly for a quick glass of wine. Instead it turned into a few over many hours and a rare experience of the “regular” identity. It was relatively quiet when I arrived and none of the owners were there. David [a regular] was DJing; we only vaguely acknowledged each other. He was playing great music though, and I was enjoying being there by myself for the first time in a while—looking about at other customers and trying to categorise them, and occasionally chatting to the girl next to me. My friend Angie came to join me about an hour later, and then Paul, a regular, arrived. He sat on my other side and alternated between talking to me, David [they are close friends], the staff, and other customers he knew who passed by. As the evening progressed a few more regulars arrived; the most “unconnected” regulars I can recall seeing at one time. We were sitting along the bar, making jokes about whether the manager for the evening would let us have a lock in. None of us thought so, however the joking seemed to engender a shared identity—that we were a collective of regulars, with specialised knowledge and expectations of privileges. Perhaps it only arose because we were faced with the possibility of having those privileges refused. Or because just for once there were more than one or two of us present. Evenings like that put the effort and pain of the work I put into gaining that identity into context. (Research note, 18 June 2011) Being a Harry’s Regular Harry’s is my favourite bar in my neighbourhood. It is a small wine bar, owned by three men in their late thirties and targeted at people like them; my gentrifying inner city neighbourhood’s 20 to 40 something urban middle class. Harry’s has seats along the bar, booths inside, and a courtyard out the back. The seating arrangements mean that larger groups tend to gather outside, groups of two to four spread around the location, and people by themselves, or in groups of two, tend to sit at the bar. I usually sit at the bar. Over the three or so years I’ve been patronising Harry’s I’ve developed quite an attachment to the place. It is somewhere I feel comfortable and secure, where I have met and continue to run into other neighbourhood residents, and that I approach with an openness as to how the evening may play out. The development of this attachment and sense of ease has been a cumulative process. The combination of a slow growing familiarity punctuated by particularly memorable evenings, such as the one described above, where heightened emotions coalesce into a reflexive recognition of identification and belonging. As a result I would describe myself as an irregular regular (Katovich and Reese 317). This is because whilst my patronage is sporadic, I have a regular’s expectation of recognition, as well as an awareness of the privileges and responsibilities that this identification brings. Similar processes of identification and attachment have been described in earlier ethnographic work on regulars within bars and cafes. These have described the ways that group identifications and broader cultural roles are continually renegotiated and reinforced through social interaction, and how physical and symbolic tools, such as business layout and décor, acquired knowledge, as well as non-regulars, are utilised in this process (Anderson 33–38; Katovich and Reese 324, 328, 330; Spradley and Mann 67, 69, 84). However the continuing shifts in the manner in which consumption practices shape our experiences of the urban environment (see for example Lloyd; Zukin), and of collective identification (see for example Cova, Kozinets and Shankar), suggest that ongoing investigation in this area would be fruitful. Accordingly, this paper extends this earlier work to consider the ways this kind of regular collective identification may manifest within consumption spaces in the contemporary Western inner city. In particular this research is interested in the implications for regular identification of the urban middle class’s use of consumption spaces for socialising, and the ways this can construct social realms. These realms are not fixed within physical pieces of space, and are instead dependent on the density and proportions of the relationship types that are present (Lofland 11). Whilst recognising, as per Ash Amin (“Collective Culture and Urban Public Space” 8), that physical and symbolic elements also shape our experiences of collective identification in public spaces, this paper focuses specifically on these social elements. This is not only because it is social recognition that is at the heart of regular identification, but more significantly, because the layers of meaning that social realms produce are continually shifting with the ebb and flow of people within these spaces, potentially complicating the identification process. Understanding how these shifting social realms are experienced, and may aid or undermine identification, is thus an important aspect of understanding how regular collective identification may be experienced in the contemporary city, and the key aim of this paper. To do so, this paper draws on autoethnographic research of my consumption experiences within an Australian inner city neighbourhood, conducted from September 2009 to September 2010. Through this autoethnography I sought to explore the ways consumption spaces can support experiences of place-based community, with a particular interest in the emotional and imaginative aspects of this process. The research data drawn on here comes from detailed research memos that recorded my interactions, identifications and emotional responses within these spaces. For this paper I focus specifically on my experiences of becoming a regular at Harry’s as a means of exploring regular identification in the contemporary inner city. The Shapes of Third Places in Contemporary Inner City Harry’s could be described as my third place. This term has been used to describe public locations outside of home and work that are host to regular, voluntary, informal and happily anticipated gatherings of individuals (Oldenburg 16). These regular’s bars and locals cafés have been celebrated in research and popular culture for their perceived ability to facilitate “that easier version of friendship and congeniality that results from casual and informal affiliation” (Oldenburg 65). They are said to achieve this by offering accessible, neutral spaces, where worries and inequalities are left at the door, and spirited, playful conversation is the focus of activity (Oldenburg 25, 29, 32). This is the idealised place “where everybody knows your name.” Despite the undeniable appeal of the third place concept, these types of social and inclusive consumption spaces are more likely to be seen on television, or in property development marketing, than on the shopping streets of our neighbourhoods. Instead many consumption spaces are purely that; spaces in which individual’s consume goods and services in ways that can encourage individualism, segregation, and stifle interaction. This has been attributed to a range of factors, including planning systems that encourage single use zoning, a reliance on cars limiting our use of public places, and the proliferation of shopping centres that focus on individualised consumption and manufactured experiences (Lofland 145, 205, 218; Oldenburg 61). In addition, the fundamentals of running a successful business can also work against a consumption space’s accessibility and neutrality. This is because location, décor, product offering, pricing, competition, and advertising practices all physically and symbolically communicate a desired target audience and expected behaviour patterns that can implicitly shape customer interactions, and the meanings we attach to them (Bitner 61; Sherry 4). More subtlety, the changing lifestyle preferences of residents of gentrifying neighbourhoods such as mine, may also work as a barrier to the development of third places. Research tells us that the urban middle class is a demographic which engages in a broad range of lifestyle-based consumption activities for socialising purposes and as part of their identity construction (Lloyd 122; Zukin 7). However this is also a demographic that is said to be increasingly mobile, and thus less restricted by geographic boundaries, such as of the neighbourhood they live in (Amin, “Re-Thinking the Urban Social” 107). As I noted above, it was not often that I experienced a critical mass of regulars at Harry’s, indeed I rarely expected to. This is because whilst Harry’s target demographic would seem likely candidates for becoming regular café or bar customers, they are also likely to be socialising in a number of different cafés, bars, and restaurants across a number of different neighbourhoods in my city, thus reducing the frequency of their presence within any one particular location. Finally, even those consumption spaces that do support social interaction may still not be operating as third places. This is because this sociality can alter a space’s level of openness, through the realms that it constructs (Lofland 11). Lofland (14) describes three types of social realms: public, parochial, and private. Private realms are dominated by intimate relations, parochial realms by communal relations, and the public realm by relations with people who are only categorically known. According to this classification, the regular’s café or bar is primarily operating as a parochial realm, identifiable by the shared sense of commonality that defines the regular collective. However naming the regular identification of the third place as the product of a social realm also highlights its fragility, and suggests that instead of being reliable and able to be anticipated, that the collective identification such spaces offers is uncertain, and easily disrupted by the shifts in patronage and patterns of interaction that consumption based socialising can bring. This is fluidity is articulated in the work of Veronique Aubert-Gamet and Bernard Cova, who describe two ways consumption spaces can support public collective identification; as anchoring and exposure sites. Anchoring sites are those within which an established collective gathers to interact and reinforce their shared identity (Aubert-Gamet and Cova 40). These are parochial realms in their more closed form, and are perhaps most likely to offer the certainty of the happily anticipated gathering that Ray Oldenburg describes. However because of this they are also more likely to be exclusionary. This is because anchoring can limit collective identification to those who are recognised as community members, thus undermining the potential for openness. This openness is instead found within exposure sites, in which individuals are able to observe and engage with the identification practices of others at limited risk (Aubert-Gamet and Cova 41). This is not quite the anomie of the public street, but neither is it the security of anchoring or the third place. This is because exposure realms can offer both familiarity, such as through the stability of physical setting, and strangeness, through the transience of customers and relationships. Furthermore, by hovering at the ever shifting boundary of parochial and public realms, these moments of exposure may offer the potential for the type of spontaneous conviviality that has been proposed as the basis for fleeting collective identifications (Amin, “Collective Culture and Urban Public Space” 10; Maffesoli). That is, it may be that when a potential third place is dominated by an exposure realm, it is experienced as open and accessible, whereas when an anchoring realm dominates, the security of collective identification takes precedence. It is the potential of social interaction at the boundaries of these realms and the ways it shapes regular identification that is of interest to this paper. This is because it is in this shifting space that identifications themselves are most fluid, unpredictable, and thus open to opportunistic breaches in the patterns of interaction. This unpredictability, and the interaction strategies we adopt to negotiate it, may also suggest ways in which a certain kind of third place experience can be developed and maintained in the contemporary inner city, where consumption based socialising is high, but where people are also mobile and less tied into fixed patterns of patronage. The remainder of the paper draws on my experiences of regular identification in Harry’s to consider how this might work. Becoming a Harry’s Regular: Anchoring and the Regular Collective The Harry’s regular collective is formed from a loose social network of neighbourhood residents, variably connected through long established friendships and more recently established consumption space based acquaintances. Evenings such as the one described above work to reinforce that shared identity and the specialised knowledge that underpins it; of the quirks of the owners and staff, of our privileges and responsibilities as regulars, and of the shared cultural identity that reflects a specific aspect of the gentrifying neighbourhood in which we live. However, achieving this level of identification and belonging has not been not easy. Whilst Oldenburg suggests that to establish third place membership one mainly just turns up regularly and tries not to be obnoxious (35), my experience instead suggests it’s a slightly more complicated, and emotional process, that is not always positive. My research notes indicate that discontent, worry, and shame, were as much a feature of my interactions in Harry’s, as were moments of joy, excitement, or an optimistic feeling of connection. This paper suggests that these negative experiences often stemmed from the confusion created by the shifting realms of interaction that occurred within the bar. This is because whilst Harry’s appeared to be a regular’s bar, it more often operated as an anchoring realm for a social network linked to the owners. Many of Harry’s regulars were established friends of the owners, and their shared identity definition appeared to be based on those primary ties. Whilst over time I became acquainted with some of this social network through my patronage, their dominance of the regular group had important implications for the collective identification I was trying to achieve. It created a realm that appeared to be parochial, but often became private, through simple acts such as the arrival of additional social network members, or a staff member shifting their orientation to another, from regular customer to friend. One consequence of these shifting realms was that my perceived inability to penetrate this anchored social network led me to doubt the value and presence of a broader consumption space based regular collective. The boundaries between private, parochial, and public appeared rigid, with no potential for cumulative impacts from fleeting connections in the public realm. It also made me question my motives regarding this desire to identify as suggested here: Thinking about tonight and Kevin [an owner] and Lucas [staff member] and introductions and realising I feel a bit let down/disappointed about the lack of something from them. But I realise also that is because I am wanting something more from them than the superficial I keep on going on about. I want recognition, as a person worth knowing. And that is perhaps where the thing of doing it by yourself falls down. I have an emotional investment in it. … Linking back to my previous thoughts about being able to be placed within a social network—having that emotional certainty of being able to be identified as part of a specific social network would reinforce to ME, who I am within this place. That I had some kind of identifiable position—which is not about superficial connections at all—it’s about recognisable strong ties. (Research note, 2 February 2009) As this excerpt suggests, I struggled to appreciate the identification within my interactions in Harry’s, because I had difficulty separating my emotional need for recognition from the implication that a lack of acknowledgement beyond the superficial I theoretically expected was a social rejection. That is, I had difficulty negotiating the boundary between the parochial realm of the regular collective, and its manifestation as a more closed private realm for the anchored social network. I expected regular, voluntary, informal and happily anticipated gatherings (Oldenburg 16), instead what I got was the brief hellos and limited yet enjoyable conversations that mark the sociality of public collective identifications. It could be suggested that what I also failed to grasp here is the difference between regularity as collective and as an individual identification. It is the collective identity that is reinforced in the parochial realm, as is evident in the description that opened this paper, and yet what I hoped for was recognition as an individual, “a person worth knowing.” However as the following section will suggest, the regular identity can also be experienced, and actively embraced, as an individual identity within realms of exposure. And it is through this version of the regular identity, that this paper suggests that some kind of personal recognition is able to be achieved. Becoming a Harry’s Regular: Exposing the Regular as Individual Given the level of comfort and connection expressed within the research excerpt that opened this paper, it is clear that I overcame the uncertainty described in the previous section, and was able to establish myself within the Harry’s regular collective. This is despite, as noted above, that both the presence and openness of Harry’s regular collective was unpredictable. However, this uncertainty also created a tension that could be said to positively increase the openness of the space. This is because it challenged the predictability that can be associated with anchored regularity, and instead forced me to look outside that identity for those reliable moments of easy friendship and congeniality within realms of exposure. That is, because of the uncertainty regarding both the presence and openness of established regulars, I often turned to fleeting interactions with non-regulars to generate that sense of identification. The influence of non-regulars can be downplayed in ethnographies of cafes and bars, perhaps because they tend to be excluded from the primary group’s identifications that are being investigated. Michael Katovich and William Reese provide the most detailed description of their relevance to the regular identity when they describe how the non-regulars in the Big Derby Lounge were used as tools against which established regulars compared their position and standing, as well as being a potential pool of recruits (336). This paper argues that non-regulars are also significant because their presence alters the realms operating within the space, thus creating opportunities for interactions at those boundaries that can be identity defining. My interactions with non-regulars in Harry’s generally offered the opportunity for spirited, playful and at times quite involved conversations, in which acquired knowledge, familiarity with staff or products, or simple statements of attachment were sufficient markers to establish an experience of regular identification in the eyes of the other. Whilst at times the density of these strangers altered Harry’s realms to the extent I did not feel at home at all, they nonetheless provided an avenue through which to remedy the uncertainties created by my interactions with the anchored social network. These non-regular interactions were able to do this because they operated at the low emotional involvement but high emotional gain boundary between fleeting public realm relations, and more meaningful experiences of exposure, where shared values and identities are on display. That is, I was confirming my regular identity not through an experience of the regular collective, but through an experience of being an individual and a regular. And in each successful encounter there was also the affirmation I had unsuccessfully sought through the regular collective, the emotional certainty that I had some kind of identifiable position within that place. Conclusion: Anchoring and Exposing in the Third Place This paper has drawn from my experiences in Harry’s to explore the process of regular identification as it operates at the boundaries of social realms. This focus provides a means to explore the ways that regular collective identification may develop in the contemporary inner city, where regularity can be sporadic and consumption based socialising is common. Drawing on autoethnographic work, this paper suggests that regularity is experienced both as an individual and a collective identity, according to the nature of the realms operating within the space. Collective identification occurs in anchoring realms, and supports the established regular group, whereas individual regular identification occurs within exposure realms, and relies on recognition from willing non-regulars. Furthermore, this paper suggests it is the latter of these identifications that is the more easily achieved, because it can be experienced at the exposure boundaries of the parochial realm, a less risky and more accessible place to identify when patronage is infrequent and social realms so fluid. It is this use of non-regular relations to balance the emotional work involved in the development of anchored relationships that I believe points to the true potential of third places in the contemporary inner city. Establishing a place where everybody knows your name is improbable in this context. However encouraging consumption spaces in which an individual’s regular patronage can form the basis of an identification, from which one can both anchor and expose, may ultimately work to support a kind of contemporary inner city version of the easier friendship and congeniality that the third place is hoped to offer. References Amin, Ash. “Collective Culture and Urban Public Space.” City 12.1 (2008): 5–24. ———. “Re-Thinking the Urban Social.” City 11.1 (2007): 100–14. Anderson, Elijah. A Place on the Corner. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1978. Aubert-Gamet, Veronique, and Bernard Cova. “Servicescapes: From Modern Non-Places to Postmodern Common Places.” Journal of Business Research 44 (1999): 37–45. Bitner, Mary Jo. “Servicescapes: The Impact of Physical Surroundings on Customers and Employees.” Journal of Marketing 56 (Apr. 1992): 57–71. Cova, Bernard, Robert V. Kozinets, and Avi Shankar. Eds. Consumer Tribes, Oxford: Butterworth-Heinemann, 2007. Katovich, Michael A., and William A. Reese II. “The Regular: Full-Time Identities and Memberships in an Urban Bar.” Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 16.3 (1987): 308–43. Lloyd, Richard. Neo-Bohemia: Art and Commerce in the Post-Industrial City. New York: Routledge, 2006. Lofland, Lyn H. The Public Realm: Exploring the City's Quintessential Social Territory. Hawthorne, New York: Aldine De Gruyter, 1998. Maffesoli, Michel. The Times of the Tribes: The Decline of Individualism in Mass Society. Trans. Don Smith. London: Sage, 1996. Oldenburg, Ray. The Great Good Place: Cafes. Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Bars, Hair Salons and Other Hangouts at the Heart of a Community. New York: Marlowe and Company, 1999. Sherry, John F., Jr. “Understanding Markets as Places: An Introduction to Servicescapes.” Servicescapes: The Concept of Place in Contemporary Markets. Ed. John F. Sherry, Jr. Chicago: NTC Business Books, 1998. 1–24. Spradley, James P., and Barbara J. Mann. The Cocktail Waitress: Woman’s Work in a Man’s World. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1975. Zukin, Sharon. Naked City: The Death and Life of Authentic Urban Places. New York: Oxford UP, 2010.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
27

Novitz, Julian. "“Too Broad and Deep for the Small Screen”: Doctor Who's New Adventures in the 1990s." M/C Journal 21, no. 5 (2018). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.1474.

Full text
Abstract:
Introduction: Doctor Who's “Wilderness Years”1989 saw the cancellation of the BBC's long-running science fiction television series Doctor Who (1965 -). The 1990s were largely bereft of original Doctor Who television content, leading fans to characterise that decade as the “wilderness years” for the franchise (McNaughton 194). From another perspective, though, the 1990s was an unprecedented time of production for Doctor Who media. From 1991 to 1997, Virgin Publishing was licensed by the BBC's merchandising division to publish a series of original Doctor Who novels, which they produced and marketed as a continuation of the television series (Gulyas 46). This series of novels, Doctor Who: The New Adventures (commonly referred to as “the Virgin New Adventures” by fans) proved popular enough to support a monthly release schedule, and from 1994 onwards, a secondary "Missing Adventures" series.Despite their central role in the 1990s, however, many fans have argued that the Doctor Who novels format makes them either less "canonical" than the television series, or completely "apocryphal" (Gulyas 48). This fits with a general trend in transmedia properties, where print-based expansions or spin-offs are generally considered less official or authentic than those that are screen-based (Hills 223). This article argues that the openness of the series to contributions from fan writers – and also some of the techniques and approaches prioritised in fan fiction - resulted in the Virgin range of Doctor Who novels having an unusually significant impact on the development and evolution of the franchise as a whole when compared to the print-based transmedia extensions of other popular series’. The article also argues that the tonal and stylistic influence of the New Adventures novels on the revived Doctor Who television series offers an interesting counter-example to the usually strict hierarchies of content that are implied in Henry Jenkins's influential model of transmedia storytelling. Transmedia StorytellingJenkins uses the term “transmedia storytelling” to describe the ways in which media franchises frequently expand beyond the format they originate with, potentially encompassing television series, films, games, toys, comics and more (Jenkins “Transmedia 202”). In discussing this paradigm, Jenkins notes the ways in which contemporary productions increasingly prioritise “integration and coordination” between the different forms of media (Jenkins Convergence Culture 105). As Jenkins argues, “most discussions of transmedia place a high emphasis on continuity – assuming that transmedia requires a high level of coordination and creative control and that all of the pieces have to cohere into a consistent narrative or world” (Jenkins “Transmedia 202”). Due to this increased emphasis on continuity, the ability to decide which media will be considered as “canonical” within the story-world of the franchise becomes an important one. Where previously questions of canon had been largely confined to fan discussions, debates and interpretive readings of media texts (Jenkins Textual Poachers 102-104), the proprietors of franchises in a transmedia economy have an interest in proactively defining and policing the canon. Designating a particular piece of media as a “canonical” expansion or spinoff of its parent text can be a useful marketing tool, as it creates the expectation that it will provide an important contribution. Correspondingly, declaring that a particular set of media texts is no longer canonical can make the franchise more accessible and allow the authors of new material more creative freedom (Proctor and Freeman 238-9).While Jenkins argues that a reliance on “one single source or ur-text” (“Transmedia 101”) is counter to the spirit of transmedia storytelling, Pillai notes that his emphasis on cohesiveness across diverse media tends to implicitly prioritise the parent text over its various offshoots (103-4). As the parent text establishes continuity and canon, any transmedia supplements are obligated to remain consistent with it, but this is often a one-sided and hierarchical relationship. For example, in the Star Wars transmedia franchise, the film series is considered crucial in establishing the canon; and transmedia supplements are obliged to remain consistent with it in order to be recognised as authentic. The filmmakers, however, are largely free to ignore or contradict the contributions of spin-off books.Hills notes that the components of transmedia franchises are often arranged into “transmedial hierarchies” (223), where screen-based media like films, television series and video games are assigned dominance over print-based productions like comics and novels. This hierarchy means that print-based works typically have a less secure place within the canon of transmedia franchises, despite often contributing a disproportionately large quantity of narratives and concepts (Guynes 143). Using the Star Wars Expanded Universe as an example, he notes a tendency whereby “franchise novels” are generally considered as disposable, and are easily erased or decanonised despite significantly long, carefully interwoven and coordinated periods of storytelling (143-5). Doctor Who as a Transmedia FranchiseWhile questions of canon are frequently debated and discussed among Doctor Who fans, it is less easy to make absolutist distinctions between canonical and apocryphal texts in Doctor Who than it is in other popular transmedia franchises. Unlike comparable transmedia productions, Doctor Who has traditionally lacked a singular authority over questions of canon and consistency in the manner that Jenkins argues for in his implicitly hierarchical conception of transmedia storytelling (Convergence Culture 106). Where franchises like Star Wars, Star Trek or The X-Files have been guided by creator-figures who either exert direct control over their various iterations or oblige them to remain broadly consistent with their original vision, Doctor Who has generally avoided this focus; creative control has passed between various showrunners and production teams, who have been largely free to establish their own style and tone.Furthermore, the franchise has traditionally favoured a largely self-contained and episodic style of storytelling; and different storylines and periods from its long history often contradict one another. For these reasons, Booth suggests that the largely retroactive attempts on the part of fans and critics to read the entire series as the type of transmedia production that Jenkins advocates for (i.e. an internally consistent narrative of connected stories) are counter-productive. He argues that Doctor Who is perhaps best understood not as a continuing series but as a long-running anthology, where largely autonomous stories and serials can be grouped into distinct “periods” of resemblance in terms of style and subject matter (198-206).As Britton argues, when appreciating Doctor Who as franchise, there is no particular need to assign primary importance to the parent media. Since its first season in 1965, the Doctor Who television series has been regularly supplemented by other media in the form of comics, annuals, films, stage-plays, audio-dramas, and novelisations. Britton maintains that as the transmedia works follow the same loosely connected, episodic structure as the television series, they operate as equally valid or equally disposable components within its metanarrative (1-9). Doctor Who writer Paul Cornell argues that given the accommodating nature of the show’s time-travel premise (which can easily accommodate the inconsistencies that Jenkins argues should be avoided in transmedia storytelling), and in the absence of a singular revered creator-figure or authority, absolutist pronouncements on canon from any source are unnecessary and exclusionary, either delegitimising texts that the audience may value, or insisting on familiarity with a particular text in order for an experience of the media to be considered “legitimate”. The Transmedia Legacy of the Virgin New AdventuresAs the Virgin Doctor Who novels are not necessarily diminished by either their lack of a clear canonical status or their placement as a print work within a screen-focused property, they can arguably be understood as constituting their own distinct “period” of Doctor Who in the manner defined by Booth. This claim is supported by the ways in which the New Adventures distinguish themselves from the typically secondary or supplemental transmedia extensions of most other television franchises.In contrast with the one-sided and hierarchical relationship that typically exists between the parent text and its transmedia extensions (Pillai 103-4), the New Adventures range did not attempt to signal their authenticity through stylistic and narrative consistency with their source material. Virgin had already published a long series of novelisations of story serials from the original television series under its children’s imprint, Target, but from their inception the New Adventures were aimed at a more mature audience. The editor of the range, Peter Darvill-Evans, observed that by the 1990s, Doctor Who’s dedicated fan base largely consisted of adults who had grown up with the series in the 1970s and 1980s rather than the children that both the television series and the novelisations had traditionally targeted (Perryman 23). The New Adventures were initially marketed as being “too broad and deep for the small screen” (Gulyas 46), positioning them as an improvement or evolution rather than an attempt to imitate the parent media or to compensate for its absence.By comparison, most other 1990s print-based supplements to popular screen franchises tended to closely mimic the style, tone and storytelling structure of their source material. For example, the Star Wars "Expanded Universe" series of novels (which began in 1991) were subject to strict editorial oversight to ensure they remained consistent with the films and were initially marketed as "film-like events" as a way of emphasising their equivalence to the original media (Proctor and Freeman 226). The Virgin New Adventures were also distinctive due to their open submission policy (which actively encouraged submissions from fan writers who had not previously achieved conventional commercial publication) alongside work from "professional" authors (Perryman 24). This policy began because Darvill-Evans noted the ability, high motivation and deep understanding of Doctor Who possessed by fan writers (Bishop) and it proved essential in establishing the more mature approach that the series was aiming for. After three indifferently received novels from professional authors, the first work from a fan author, Paul Cornell’s Timewyrm: Revelation (1991) became highly popular, due to its more grounded, serious and complex exploration of the character of the Doctor and their human companion. Following the success of Cornell’s novel, the series began to establish its own distinctive tone, emphasising gritty urban settings, character development and interpersonal drama, and the exploration of moral ambiguities and social and political issues that would have not been permissible in the original television series (Gulyas 46-8).Works by previously unpublished fan authors came to dominate the range to such an extent that the New Adventures has been described as “licensing professionally produced fan fiction” (Perryman 23). This trajectory established the New Adventures as an unusual hybrid text, combining the sanction of an official license with the usually unofficial phenomenon of fan custodianship. The cancellation of a television series (as experienced by Doctor Who in 1989) often allows its fan community to take custodianship of it in a variety of ways (McNoughton 194). While a series is being broadcast, fans are often constructed as elite but essentially ”powerless” readers, whose interpretations and desires can easily be contradicted or ignored by the series creators (Tulloch and Jenkins 141). With cancellation and a diminishing mass audience, fans become the custodians of the series and its memory. Their interpretations can no longer be overwritten, and they become the principle market for official merchandise and transmedia extensions (McNoughton 194-6).Also, fans can explore and fulfil their desires for the narrative direction and tone of the series, through the “cottage industries” of fan-created merchandise (196) and “gift economies” of fan fiction (Flegal and Roth 258), without being impeded or overruled by official developments in the parent media. This movement towards fan custodianship and production became more visible during the 1990s, as digital technology allowed for rapid communication, connection and exchange (Coppa 53). The Virgin New Adventures range arguably operated as a meeting point between officially sanctioned commercial spin-off media and the fan-centric industries of production that work to prolong the life and memory of a cancelled television series. Indeed, the direct inclusion of fan authors and the techniques and approaches associated with fan fiction likely helped to establish the deeper, more mature interpretation of Doctor Who offered by the New Adventures.As Stein and Busse observe, a recurring feature of fan fiction has been a focus on exploring the inner lives of the characters from its source media, and adding depth and complexity to their relationships (196-8). Furthermore, the successful New Adventures fan authors tended to offer support and encouragement to each other via their informal networks, which affected the development of the series as a transmedia production (Perryman 24). Flegal and Roth note that in contrast to often solitary and individualistic forms of “professional” and “literary” writing, the composition of fan fiction emerges out of collegial, supportive and reciprocal communities (265-8). The meeting point that the Virgin New Adventures provided between professional writing practice and the attitudes and approaches common to the types of fan fiction that were becoming more prominent in the nineties (Coppa 53-5) helped to shape the evolution of Doctor Who as a franchise.Where previous Doctor Who stories (regardless of the media or medium) had been largely isolated from each other, the informal fan networks that connected the New Adventures authors allowed and encouraged them to collaborate more closely, ensuring consistency between the instalments and plotting out multi-volume story-arcs and character development. Where the Star Wars Expanded Universe series of novels ensured consistency through extensive and often intrusive top-down editorial control (Proctor and Freeman 226-7), the New Adventures developed this consistency through horizontal relationships between authors. While Doctor Who has always been a transmedia franchise, the Virgin New Adventures may be the first point where it began to fully engage with the possibilities of the coordinated and consistent transmedia storytelling discussed by Jenkins (Perryman 24-6). It is notable that this largely developed out of the collaborative and reciprocal relationships common to communities of fan-creators rather than through the singular and centralised control that Jenkins advocates.While the Virgin range of Doctor Who novels ended long before the revival of the television series in 2005, its influence on the style, tone and subject matter of the new series has been noted. As Perryman argues, the emphasis on more cohesive story-arcs and character development between episodes has been inherited from the New Adventures (24). The 2005 series also followed the Virgin novels in presenting the Doctor’s companions with detailed backgrounds and having their relationships shift and evolve, rather than remaining static like they did in the original series. The more distinctly urban focus of the new series was also likely shaped by the success of the New Adventures (Haslop 217); its well-publicised emphasis on inclusiveness and diversity was likewise prefigured by the Virgin novels, which were the first Doctor Who media to include non-Anglo and LGBQT companions (McKee "How to tell the difference" 181-2). It is highly unusual for a print-based transmedia extension to have this level of impact. Indeed, one of the most visible and profitable transmedia initiatives that began in the 1990s, the Star Wars Expanded Universe novels (which like the New Adventures was presented as an officially sanctioned continuation of the original media), was unceremoniously decanonised in 2014, and the interpretations of Star Wars characters and themes that it had developed over more than a decade of storytelling were almost entirely disregarded by the new films (Proctor and Freeman 235-7). The comparably large influence that the New Adventures had on the development of its franchise indicates the success of its fan-centric approach in developing a more relationship-driven and character-focused interpretation of its parent media.The influence of the New Adventures is also felt more directly through the continuing careers of its authors. A number of the fan writers who achieved their first commercial publication with the New Adventures (e.g. Paul Cornell, Gareth Roberts, Mark Gatiss) went on to write scripts for the new series. The first showrunner, Russell T. Davies, was the author of the later novels, Damaged Goods (1997), and the second, Steven Moffat, had been an active member of Doctor Who fan communities that discussed and promoted the Virgin books (Bishop). As the former New Adventures author Kate Orman notes, this movement from writing usually secondary franchise novels to working on and having authority over the parent media is almost unheard of (McKee “Interview with Kate Orman” 138), and speaks to the success of the combination of fan authorship and official licensing and support found in the New Adventures. As Hadas notes, the chief difference between the new series of Doctor Who and its classic version is that former and long-term fans of the series are now directly involved in its production, thus complicating Tullouch and Jenkin’s assessment of Doctor Who fans as a “powerless elite” (141). ConclusionThe continuing influence of the nineties New Adventures novels can still be detected in the contemporary series. These novels operate with regard to the themes, preoccupations and styles of storytelling that this range pioneered within the Doctor Who franchise, and which developed directly out of its innovative and unusual strategy of giving official sanction and editorial support to typically obscured and subcultural modes of fan writing. The reductive and exclusionary question of canon can be avoided when considering the above novels. These transmedia productions are important to the evolution and development of the media franchise as a whole. In this respect, the Virgin New Adventures operate as their own distinctive, legitimate and influential "period" within Doctor Who, demonstrating the creative potential of an approach to transmedia storytelling that deemphasises strict hierarchies of content and control and can readily include the contributions of fan producers.ReferencesBishop, David. “Four Writers, One Discussion: Andy Lane, Paul Cornell, Steven Moffat and David Bishop.” Time Space Visualiser 43 (March 1995). 1 Nov. 2018 <http://doctorwho.org.nz/archive/tsv43/onediscussion.html>.Booth, Paul. “Periodising Doctor Who.” Science Fiction Film and Television 7.2 (2014). 195-215.Britton, Piers D. TARDISbound: Navigating the Universes of Doctor Who. London: I.B. Tauris and Company, 2011.Coppa, Francesca. “A Brief History of Media Fandom.” Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet. Eds. Karen Hellekson and Kristina Busse. Jefferson NC: McFarland and Company, 2009. 41-59.Cornell, Paul. “Canonicity in Doctor Who”. PaulConell.com. 10 Feb. 2007. 30 Nov. 2018 <https://www.paulcornell.com/2007/02/canonicity-in-doctor-who/>.Doctor Who. British Broadcasting Corporation, 1965 to present.Flegal, Monica, and Jenny Roth. “Writing a New Text: the Role of Cyberculture in Fanfiction Writers’ Transition to ‘Legitimate’ Publishing.” Contemporary Women’s Writing 10.2 (2016): 253-270.Gulyas, Aaron. “Don’t Call It a Comeback.” Doctor Who in Time and Space: Essays on Themes, Characters, History and Fandom, 1963-2012. Ed. Donald E. Palumbo and C.W. Sullivan. Jefferson NC: McFarland and Company, 2013. 44-63.Guynes, Sean. “Publishing the New Jedi Order: Media Industries Collaboration and the Franchise Novel.” Star Wars and the History of Transmedia Storytelling. Eds. Sean Guynes and Dan Hassler-Forest. Amsterdam: Amsterdam UP, 2017. 143-154.Hadas, Leora. “Running the Asylum? Doctor Who’s Ascended Fan-Showrunners.” Deletion. 23 June 2014. 30 Nov. 2018 <http://www.deletionscifi.org/episodes/episode-5/running-asylum-doctor-whos-ascended-fan-showrunners/>.Haslop, Craig. “Bringing Doctor Who Back for the Masses: Regenerating Cult, Commodifying Class.” Science Fiction Film and Television 9.2 (2016): 209-297.Hills, Matt. “From Transmedia Storytelling to Transmedia Experience: Star Wars Celebration as a Crossover/Hierarchical Space.” Star Wars and the History of Transmedia Storytelling. Eds. Sean Guynes and Dan Hassler-Forest. Amsterdam: Amsterdam UP, 2017. 213-224.Jenkins III, Henry. Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture. New York: Routledge. 1992.———. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York: New York UP, 2006.———. “Transmedia Storytelling 101.” Confessions of an Aca-Fan. 22 Mar. 2007. 30 Nov. 2018 <http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2007/03/transmedia_storytelling_101.html>.———. “Transmedia Storytelling 202: Further Reflections.” Confessions of an Aca-Fan. 1 Aug. 2011. 30 Nov. 2018 <http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2011/08/defining_transmedia_further_re.html>.McKee, Alan. "How to Tell the Difference between Production and Consumption: A Case Study in Doctor Who Fandom." Cult Television. Eds. Sara Gwenllian-Jones and Richard M. Pearson. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, 2004: 167-186.———. “Interview with Kate Orman: Dr Who Author.” Continuum 19.1 (2005): 127-139. McNaughton, Douglas. “Regeneration of a Brand: The Fan Audience and the 2005 Doctor Who Revival.” Ruminations, Peregrinations, and Regenerations: A Critical Approach to Doctor Who. Ed. Christopher J. Hansen. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2010. 192-208.Perryman, Neil. “Doctor Who and the Convergence of Media: A Case Study in ‘Transmedia Storytelling’.” Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies 14.1 (2008): 21-39.Pillai, Nicolas. “’What Am I Looking at, Mulder?’ Licensed Comics and the Freedoms of Transmedia Storytelling.” Science Fiction Film and Television 6.1 (2013): 101-117.Porter, Lynnette. The Doctor Who Franchise: American Influence, Fan Culture, and the Spinoffs. Jefferson NC: McFarland and Company, 2018.Procter, William, and Matthew Freeman. “’The First Step into a Smaller World’: The Transmedia Economy of Star Wars.” Revisiting Imaginary Worlds: A Subcreation Studies Anthology. Ed. Mark J.P. Wolf. New York: Routledge. 2016. 223-245.Stein, Louisa, and Kristina Busse. “Limit Play: Fan Authorship between Source Text, Intertext, and Context.” Popular Communication 7.4 (2009): 192-207.Tullouch, John, and Henry Jenkins III. Science Fiction Audiences: Watching Star Trek and Doctor Who. New York: Routledge, 1995.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
28

Downes, Daniel M. "The Medium Vanishes?" M/C Journal 3, no. 1 (2000). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.1829.

Full text
Abstract:
Introduction The recent AOL/Time-Warner merger invites us to re-think the relationships amongst content producers, distributors, and audiences. Worth an estimated $300 billion (US), the largest Internet transaction of all time, the deal is 45 times larger than the AOL/Netscape merger of November 1998 (Ledbetter). Additionally, the Time Warner/EMI merger, which followed hard on the heels of the AOL/Time-Warner deal and is itself worth $28 billion (US), created the largest content rights organisation in the music industry. The joining of the Internet giant (AOL) with what was already the world's largest media corporation (Time-Warner-EMI) has inspired some exuberant reactions. An Infoworld column proclaimed: The AOL/Time-Warner merger signals the demise of traditional media companies and the ascendancy of 'new economy' media companies that will force any industry hesitant to adopt a complete electronic-commerce strategy to rethink and put itself on Internet time. (Saap & Schwarrtz) This comment identifies the distribution channel as the dominant component of the "new economy" media. But this might not really be much of an innovation. Indeed, the assumption of all industry observers is that Time-Warner will provide broadband distribution (through its extensive cable holdings) as well as proprietary content for AOL. It is also expected that Time-Warner will adopt AOL's strategy of seeking sponsorship for development projects as well as for content. However, both of these phenomena -- merger and sponsorship -- are at least as old as radio. It seems that the Internet is merely repeating an old industrial strategy. Nonetheless, one important difference distinguishes the Internet from earlier media: its characterisation of the audience. Internet companies such as AOL and Microsoft tend towards a simple and simplistic media- centred view of the audience as market. I will show, however, that as the Internet assumes more of the traditional mass media functions, it will be forced to adopt a more sophisticated notion of the mass audience. Indeed, the Internet is currently the site in which audience definitions borrowed from broadcasting are encountering and merging with definitions borrowed from marketing. The Internet apparently lends itself to both models. As a result, definitions of what the Internet does or is, and of how we should understand the audience, are suitably confused and opaque. And the behaviour of big Internet players, such as AOL and MSN, perfectly reflects this confusion as they seem to careen between a view of the Internet as the new television and a contrasting view of the Internet as the new shopping mall. Meanwhile, Internet users move in ways that most observers fail to capture. For example, Baran and Davis characterise mass communication as a process involving (1) an organized sender, (2) engaged in the distribution of messages, (3) directed toward a large audience. They argue that broadcasting fits this model whereas a LISTSERV does not because, even though the LISTSERV may have very many subscribers, its content is filtered through a single person or Webmaster. But why is the Webmaster suddenly more determining than a network programmer or magazine editor? The distinction seems to grow out of the Internet's technological characteristics: it is an interactive pipeline, therefore its use necessarily excludes the possibility of "broadcasting" which in turn causes us to reject "traditional" notions of the audience. However, if a media organisation were to establish an AOL discussion group in order to promote Warner TV shows, for example, would not the resulting communication suddenly fall under the definition as set out by Baran and Davis? It was precisely the confusion around such definitions that caused the CRTC (Canada's broadcasting and telecommunications regulator) to hold hearings in 1999 to determine what kind of medium the Internet is. Unlike traditional broadcasting, Internet communication does indeed include the possibility of interactivity and niche communities. In this sense, it is closer to narrowcasting than to broadcasting even while maintaining the possibility of broadcasting. Hence, the nature of the audience using the Internet quickly becomes muddy. While such muddiness might have led us to sharpen our definitions of the audience, it seems instead to have led many to focus on the medium itself. For example, Morris & Ogan define the Internet as a mass medium because it addresses a mass audience mediated through technology (Morris & Ogan 39). They divide producers and audiences on the Internet into four groups: One-to-one asynchronous communication (e-mail); Many-to-many asynchronous communication (Usenet and News Groups); One-to-one, one-to-few, and one-to-many synchronous communication (topic groups, construction of an object, role-playing games, IRC chats, chat rooms); Asynchronous communication (searches, many-to-one, one-to-one, one to- many, source-receiver relations (Morris & Ogan 42-3) Thus, some Internet communication qualifies as mass communication while some does not. However, the focus remains firmly anchored on either the sender or the medium because the receiver --the audience -- is apparently too slippery to define. When definitions do address the content distributed over the Net, they make a distinction between passive reception and interactive participation. As the World Wide Web makes pre-packaged content the norm, the Internet increasingly resembles a traditional mass medium. Timothy Roscoe argues that the main focus of the World Wide Web is not the production of content (and, hence, the fulfilment of the Internet's democratic potential) but rather the presentation of already produced material: "the dominant activity in relation to the Web is not producing your own content but surfing for content" (Rosco 680). He concludes that if the emphasis is on viewing material, the Internet will become a medium similar to television. Within media studies, several models of the audience compete for dominance in the "new media" economy. Denis McQuail recalls how historically, the electronic media furthered the view of the audience as a "public". The audience was an aggregate of common interests. With broadcasting, the electronic audience was delocalised and socially decomposed (McQuail, Mass 212). According to McQuail, it was not a great step to move from understanding the audience as a dispersed "public" to thinking about the audience as itself a market, both for products and as a commodity to be sold to advertisers. McQuail defines this conception of the audience as an "aggregate of potential customers with a known social- economic profile at which a medium or message is directed" (McQuail, Mass 221). Oddly though, in light of the emancipatory claims made for the Internet, this is precisely the dominant view of the audience in the "new media economy". Media Audience as Market How does the marketing model characterise the relationship between audience and producer? According to McQuail, the marketing model links sender and receiver in a cash transaction between producer and consumer rather than in a communicative relationship between equal interlocutors. Such a model ignores the relationships amongst consumers. Indeed, neither the effectiveness of the communication nor the quality of the communicative experience matters. This model, explicitly calculating and implicitly manipulative, is characteristically a "view from the media" (McQuail, Audience 9). Some scholars, when discussing new media, no longer even refer to audiences. They speak of users or consumers (Pavick & Dennis). The logic of the marketing model lies in the changing revenue base for media industries. Advertising-supported media revenues have been dropping since the early 1990s while user-supported media such as cable, satellite, online services, and pay-per-view, have been steadily growing (Pavlik & Dennis 19). In the Internet-based media landscape, the audience is a revenue stream and a source of consumer information. As Bill Gates says, it is all about "eyeballs". In keeping with this view, AOL hopes to attract consumers with its "one-stop shopping and billing". And Internet providers such as MSN do not even consider their subscribers as "audiences". Instead, they work from a consumer model derived from the computer software industry: individuals make purchases without the seller providing content or thematising the likely use of the software. The analogy extends well beyond the transactional moment. The common practice of prototyping products and beta-testing software requires the participation of potential customers in the product development cycle not as a potential audience sharing meanings but as recalcitrant individuals able to uncover bugs. Hence, media companies like MTV now use the Internet as a source of sophisticated demographic research. Recently, MTV Asia established a Website as a marketing tool to collect preferences and audience profiles (Slater 50). The MTV audience is now part of the product development cycle. Another method for getting information involves the "cookie" file that automatically provides a Website with information about the user who logs on to a site (Pavick & Dennis). Simultaneously, though, both Microsoft and AOL have consciously shifted from user-subscription revenues to advertising in an effort to make online services more like television (Gomery; Darlin). For example, AOL has long tried to produce content through its own studios to generate sufficiently heavy traffic on its Internet service in order to garner profitable advertising fees (Young). However, AOL and Microsoft have had little success in providing content (Krantz; Manes). In fact, faced with the AOL/Time-Warner merger, Microsoft declared that it was in the software rather than the content business (Trott). In short, they are caught between a broadcasting model and a consumer model and their behaviour is characteristically erratic. Similarly, media companies such as Time-Warner have failed to establish their own portals. Indeed, Time-Warner even abandoned attempts to create large Websites to compete with other Internet services when it shut down its Pathfinder site (Egan). Instead it refocussed its Websites so as to blur the line between pitching products and covering them (Reid; Lyons). Since one strategy for gaining large audiences is the creation of portals - - large Websites that keep surfers within the confines of a single company's site by providing content -- this is the logic behind the AOL/Time-Warner merger though both companies have clearly been unsuccessful at precisely such attempts. AOL seems to hope that Time- Warner will act as its content specialist, providing the type of compelling material that will make users want to use AOL, whereas Time- Warner seems to hope that AOL will become its privileged pipeline to the hearts and minds of untold millions. Neither has a coherent view of the audience, how it behaves, or should behave. Consequently, their efforts have a distinctly "unmanaged" and slighly inexplicable air to them, as though everyone were simultaneously hopeful and clueless. While one might argue that the stage is set to capitalise on the audience as commodity, there are indications that the success of such an approach is far from guaranteed. First, the AOL/Time-Warner/EMI transaction, merely by existing, has sparked conflicts over proprietary rights. For example, the Recording Industry Association of America, representing Sony, Universal, BMG, Warner and EMI, recently launched a $6.8 billion lawsuit against MP3.com -- an AOL subsidiary -- for alleged copyright violations. Specifically, MP3.com is being sued for selling digitized music over the Internet without paying royalties to the record companies (Anderson). A similar lawsuit has recently been launched over the issue of re- broadcasting television programs over the Internet. The major US networks have joined together against Canadian Internet company iCravetv for the unlawful distribution of content. Both the iCravetv and the MP3.com cases show how dominant media players can marshal their forces to protect proprietary rights in both content and distribution. Since software and media industries have failed to recreate the Internet in the image of traditional broadcasting, the merger of the dominant players in each industry makes sense. However, their simultaneous failure to secure proprietary rights reflects both the competitive nature of the "new media economy" and the weakness of the marketing view of the audience. Media Audience as Public It is often said that communication produces social cohesion. From such cohesion communities emerge on which political or social orders can be constructed. The power of social cohesion and attachment to group symbols can even create a sense of belonging to a "people" or nation (Deutsch). Sociologist Daniel Bell described how the mass media helped create an American culture simply by addressing a large enough audience. He suggested that on the evening of 7 March 1955, when one out of every two Americans could see Mary Martin as Peter Pan on television, a kind of social revolution occurred and a new American public was born. "It was the first time in history that a single individual was seen and heard at the same time by such a broad public" (Bell, quoted in Mattelart 72). One could easily substitute the 1953 World Series or the birth of little Ricky on I Love Lucy. The desire to document such a process recurs with the Internet. Internet communities are based on the assumption that a common experience "creates" group cohesion (Rheingold; Jones). However, as a mass medium, the Internet has yet to find its originary moment, that event to which all could credibly point as the birth of something genuine and meaningful. A recent contender was the appearance of Paul McCartney at the refurbished Cavern Club in Liverpool. On Tuesday, 14 December 1999, McCartney played to a packed club of 300 fans, while another 150,000 watched on an outdoor screen nearby. MSN arranged to broadcast the concert live over the Internet. It advertised an anticipated global audience of 500 million. Unfortunately, there was such heavy Internet traffic that the system was unable to accommodate more than 3 million people. Servers in the United Kingdom were so congested that many could only watch the choppy video stream via an American link. The concert raises a number of questions about "virtual" events. We can draw several conclusions about measuring Internet audiences. While 3 million is a sizeable audience for a 20 minute transmission, by advertising a potential audience of 500 million, MSN showed remarkably poor judgment of its inherent appeal. The Internet is the first medium that allows access to unprocessed material or information about events to be delivered to an audience with neither the time constraints of broadcast media nor the space limitations of the traditional press. This is often cited as one of the characteristics that sets the Internet apart from other media. This feeds the idea of the Internet audience as a participatory, democratic public. For example, it is often claimed that the Internet can foster democratic participation by providing voters with uninterpreted information about candidates and issues (Selnow). However, as James Curran argues, the very process of distributing uninterrupted, unfiltered information, at least in the case of traditional mass media, represents an abdication of a central democratic function -- that of watchdog to power (Curran). In the end, publics are created and maintained through active and continuous participation on the part of communicators and audiences. The Internet holds together potentially conflicting communicative relationships within the same technological medium (Merrill & Ogan). Viewing the audience as co-participant in a communicative relationship makes more sense than simply focussing on the Internet audience as either an aggregate of consumers or a passively constructed symbolic public. Audience as Relationship Many scholars have shifted attention from the producer to the audience as an active participant in the communication process (Ang; McQuail, Audience). Virginia Nightingale goes further to describe the audience as part of a communicative relationship. Nightingale identifies four factors in the relationship between audiences and producers that emphasize their co-dependency. The audience and producer are engaged in a symbiotic relationship in which consumption and use are necessary but not sufficient explanations of audience relations. The notion of the audience invokes, at least potentially, a greater range of activities than simply use or consumption. Further, the audience actively, if not always consciously, enters relationships with content producers and the institutions that govern the creation, distribution and exhibition of content (Nightingale 149-50). Others have demonstrated how this relationship between audiences and producers is no longer the one-sided affair characterised by the marketing model or the model of the audience as public. A global culture is emerging based on critical viewing skills. Kavoori calls this a reflexive mode born of an increasing familiarity with the narrative conventions of news and an awareness of the institutional imperatives of media industries (Kavoori). Given the sophistication of the emergent global audience, a theory that reduces new media audiences to a set of consumer preferences or behaviours will inevitably prove inadequate, just as it has for understanding audience behavior in old media. Similarly, by ignoring those elements of audience behavior that will be easily transported to the Web, we run the risk of idealising the Internet as a medium that will create an illusory, pre-technological public. Conclusion There is an understandable confusion between the two models of the audience that appear in the examples above. The "new economy" will have to come to terms with sophisticated audiences. Contrary to IBM's claim that they want to "get to know all about you", Internet users do not seem particularly interested in becoming a perpetual source of market information. The fragmented, autonomous audience resists attempts to lock it into proprietary relationships. Internet hypesters talk about creating publics and argue that the Internet recreates the intimacy of community as a corrective to the atomisation and alienation characteristic of mass society. This faith in the power of a medium to create social cohesion recalls the view of the television audience as a public constructed by the common experience of watching an important event. However, MSN's McCartney concert indicates that creating a public from spectacle it is not a simple process. In fact, what the Internet media conglomerates seem to want more than anything is to create consumer bases. Audiences exist for pleasure and by the desire to be entertained. As Internet media institutions are established, the cynical view of the audience as a source of consumer behavior and preferences will inevitably give way, to some extent, to a view of the audience as participant in communication. Audiences will be seen, as they have been by other media, as groups whose attention must be courted and rewarded. Who knows, maybe the AOL/Time-Warner merger might, indeed, signal the new medium's coming of age. References Anderson, Lessley. "To Beam or Not to Beam. MP3.com Is Being Sued by the Major Record Labels. Does the Digital Download Site Stand a Chance?" Industry Standard 31 Jan. 2000. <http://www.thestandard.com>. Ang, Ien. Watching Dallas: Soap Opera and the Melodramatic Imagination. London: Methuen, 1985. Baran, Stanley, and Dennis Davis. Mass Communication Theory: Foundations, Ferment, and Future. 2nd ed. Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth 2000. Curran, James. "Mass Media and Democracy Revisited." Mass Media and Society. Eds. James Curran and Michael Gurevitch. New York: Hodder Headline Group, 1996. Darlin, Damon. "He Wants Your Eyeballs." Forbes 159 (16 June 1997): 114-6. Egan, Jack, "Pathfinder, Rest in Peace: Time-Warner Pulls the Plug on Site." US News and World Report 126.18 (10 May 1999): 50. Gomery, Douglas. "Making the Web Look like Television (American Online and Microsoft)." American Journalism Review 19 (March 1997): 46. Jones, Steve, ed. CyberSociety: Computer-Mediated Communication and Community. Thousand Oaks: Sage, 1995. Kavoori, Amandam P. "Discursive Texts, Reflexive Audiences: Global Trends in Television News Texts and Audience Reception." Journal of Broadcasting and Electronic Media 43.3 (Summer 1999): 386-98. Krantz, Michael. "Is MSN on the Block?" Time 150 (20 Oct. 1997): 82. Ledbetter, James. "AOL-Time-Warner Make It Big." Industry Standard 11 Jan. 2000. <http://www.thestandard.com>. Lyons, Daniel. "Desparate.com (Media Companies Losing Millions on the Web Turn to Electronic Commerce)." Forbes 163.6 (22 March 1999): 50-1. Manes, Stephen. "The New MSN as Prehistoric TV." New York Times 4 Feb. 1997: C6. McQuail, Denis. Audience Analysis. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage, 1997. ---. Mass Communication Theory. 2nd ed. London: Sage, 1987. Mattelart, Armand. Mapping World Communication: War, Progress, Culture. Trans. Susan Emanuel and James A. Cohen. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1994. Morris, Merrill, and Christine Ogan. "The Internet as Mass Medium." Journal of Communications 46 (Winter 1996): 39-50. Nightingale, Virginia. Studying Audience: The Shock of the Real. London: Routledge, 1996. Pavlik, John V., and Everette E. Dennis. New Media Technology: Cultural and Commercial Perspectives. 2nd ed. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1998. Reid, Calvin. "Time-Warner Seeks Electronic Synergy, Profits on the Web (Pathfinder Site)." Publisher's Weekly 242 (4 Dec. 1995): 12. Rheingold, Howard. Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier. New York: Harper, 1993. Roscoe, Timothy. "The Construction of the World Wide Web Audience." Media, Culture and Society 21.5 (1999): 673-84. Saap, Geneva, and Ephraim Schwarrtz. "AOL-Time-Warner Deal to Impact Commerce, Content, and Access Markets." Infoworld 11 January 2000. <http://infoworld.com/articles/ic/xml/00/01/11/000111icimpact.xml>. Slater, Joanna. "Cool Customers: Music Channels Hope New Web Sites Tap into Teen Spirit." Far Eastern Economic Review 162.9 (4 March 1999): 50. Trott, Bob. "Microsoft Views AOL-Time-Warner as Confirmation of Its Own Strategy." Infoworld 11 Jan. 2000. <http://infoworld.com/articles/pi/xml/00/01/11/000111pimsaoltw.xml>. Yan, Catherine. "A Major Studio Called AOL?" Business Week 1 Dec. 1997: 1773-4. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Daniel M. Downes. "The Medium Vanishes? The Resurrection of the Mass Audience in the New Media Economy." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.1 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/0003/mass.php>. Chicago style: Daniel M. Downes, "The Medium Vanishes? The Resurrection of the Mass Audience in the New Media Economy," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 1 (2000), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/0003/mass.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Daniel M. Downes. (2000) The Medium Vanishes? The Resurrection of the Mass Audience in the New Media Economy. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(1). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/0003/mass.php> ([your date of access]).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
29

Heurkens, Erwin. "Private Sector-led Urban Development Projects. Management, Partnerships and Effects in the Netherlands and the UK." Architecture and the Built Environment, 2012. http://dx.doi.org/10.59490/abe.2012.4.820.

Full text
Abstract:
Central to this research lays the concept of private sector-led urban development projects (Heurkens, 2010). Such projects involve project developers taking a leading role and local authorities adopting a facilitating role, in managing the development of an urban area, based on a clear public-private role division. Such a development strategy is quite common in Anglo-Saxon urban development practices, but is less known in Continental European practices. Nonetheless, since the beginning of the millennium such a development strategy also occurred in the Netherlands in the form of ‘concessions’. However, remarkably little empirical knowledge is available about how public and private actors collaborate on and manage private sector-led urban development projects. Moreover, it remains unclear what the effects of such projects are. This dissertation provides an understanding of the various characteristics of private sector-led urban development projects by conducting empirical case study research in the institutional contexts of the Netherlands and the UK. The research provides an answer to the following research question: What can we learn from private sector-led urban development projects in the Netherlands and UK in terms of the collaborative and managerial roles of public and private actors, and the effects of their (inter)actions? Indications for a market-oriented Dutch urban development practice Urban development practice in the Netherlands has been subject to changes pointing towards more private sector involvement in the built environment in the past decades. Although the current economic recession might indicate otherwise, there are several motives that indicate a continuation of private sector involvement and a private leadership role in Dutch urban development projects in the future. First, a shift towards more market-oriented development practice is the result of an evolutionary process of increased ‘neoliberalization’ and the adoption of Anglo-Saxon principles in Dutch society. Despite its Rhineland roots with a focus on welfare provision, in the Netherlands several neoliberal principles (privatization, decentralization, deregulation) have been adopted by government and incorporated in the management of organizations (Bakker et al., 2005). Hence, market institutionalization on the one hand, and rising civic emancipation on the other, in current Western societies prevents a return towards hierarchical governance. Second, the result of such changes is the emergence of a market-oriented type of planning practice based on the concept of ‘development planning’. Public-Private Partnerships and the ‘forward integration’ of market parties (De Zeeuw, 2007) enforce the role of market actors. In historical perspective, Boelens et al. (2006) argue that Dutch spatial planning always has been characterized by public-private collaborations in which governments facilitated private and civic entrepreneurship. Therefore, post-war public-led spatial planning with necessary government intervention was a ‘temporary hiccup’, an exception to the rule. Third, the European Commission expresses concerns about the hybrid role of public actors in Dutch institutionalized PPP joint ventures. EU legislation opts for formal public-private role divisions in realizing urban projects based on Anglo-Saxon law that comply with the legislative tendering principles of competition, transparency, equality, and public legitimacy. Fourth, experiences with joint ventures in the Netherlands are less positive as often is advocated. Such institutionalized public-private entities have seldom generated the assumed added value, caused by misconceptions about the objectives of both partners grounded in incompatible value systems. This results in contra-productive levels of distrust, time-consuming partnership formations, lack of transparency, and compromising decision-making processes (Teisman & Klijn, 2002), providing a need for other forms of collaboration. Finally, current financial retrenchments in the public sector and debates about the possible abundance of Dutch active land development policies point towards a lean and mean government that moves away from risk-bearing participation and investment in urban projects and leaves this to the market. Importantly, Van der Krabben (2011b) argues that the Dutch active public land development policies can be considered as an international exception, and advocates for facilitating land development policies. In this light, it becomes highly relevant to study private sector-led urban development as a future Dutch urban development strategy. Integrative urban management approach This research is rooted in the research school of Urban Area Development within the Department of Real Estate and Housing at the Faculty of Architecture (Delft University of Technology). It is a relatively young academic domain which views urban development most profoundly as a complex management assignment (Bruil et al., 2004; Franzen et al., 2011). This academic school uses an integrative perspective with a strong practice-orientation and carries out solution-oriented design research. Here, the integration involves bridging various actor interests, spatial functions, spatial scales, academic domains, knowledge and skills, development goals, and links process with content aspects. Such a perspective does justice to complex societal processes. Therefore it provides a fruitful ground for studying urban development aimed at developing conceptual knowledge and product for science and practice. Such integrative perspective and practice-orientation forms the basis of this research and has been applied in the following manner. In order to create an understanding of the roles of public and private actors in private sector-led urban development, this research takes a management perspective based on an integrative management approach. This involves viewing management more broadly as ‘any type of direct influencing’ urban development projects, and therefore aims at bridging often separated management theories (Osborne, 2000a). Hence, an integrative management approach assists in both understanding urban development practices and projects and constructing useful conceptual tools for practitioners and academics. Integrative approaches attempt to combine a number of different elements into a more holistic management approach (Black & Porter, 2000). Importantly, it does not view the management of projects in isolation but in its entire complexity and dynamics. Therefore, our management approach combines two integrative management theories; the open systems theory (De Leeuw, 2002) and contingency theory. The former provides opportunities to study the management of a project in a structured manner. The latter emphasizes that there is no universally effective way of managing and recognizes the importance of contextual circumstances. Hence, an integrative management approach favors incorporating theories from multiple academic domains such as political science, economics, law, business administration, and organizational and management concepts. Hence, it moves away from the classical academic division between planning theory and property theory, and organization and management theories. It positions itself in between such academic domains, and aims at bridging theoretical viewpoints by following the concept of planning ánd markets (Alexander, 2001) rather than concepts such as ‘planning versus markets’, public versus private sector, and organization versus management. Also, such an integrative view values the complexity and dynamics of empirical urban development practices. More specifically, this research studies urban development projects as object, as urban areas are the focus point of spatial intervention and public-private interaction (Daamen, 2010), and thus collaboration and management. Here, public planning processes and private development processes merge with each other. Thus, our research continues to build upon the importance of studying and reflecting on empirical practices and projects (e.g. Healey, 2006). In addition to these authors, this research does so by using meaningful integrative concepts that reflect empirical realities of urban projects. Thereby, this research serves to bridge management sciences with management practices (Van Aken, 2004; Mintzberg, 2010) through iterative processes of reflecting on science and practice. Moreover, the integrative management approach applied in this research assists in filling an academic gap, namely the lack of management knowledge about public-private interaction in urban development projects. Despite the vast amount of literature on the governance of planning practices (e.g. DiGaetano & Strom, 2003), and Public-Private Partnerships (e.g. Osborne, 2000b), remarkable little knowledge exists about what shifting public-private relationships mean for day-to-day management by public and private actors in development projects. Hence, here we follow the main argument made by public administration scholar Klijn (2008) who claims that it is such direct actor influence that brings about the most significant change to the built environment. An integrative urban management model (see Figure 2.3) based on the open systems approach has been constructed which forms a conceptual representation of empirical private sectorled urban development projects. This model serves as an analytical tool to comprehend the complexity of managing such projects. In this research, several theoretical insights about publicprivate relations and roles are used to understand different contextual and organizational factors that affect the management of private sector-led urban development projects. Hence, a project context exists within different often country-specific institutional environments (e.g. the Netherlands and UK). In this research, contextual aspects that to a degree determine the way public and private actors inter-organize urban projects, consist of economics & politics, governance cultures, and planning systems and policies. Hence, institutional values are deeply rooted in social welfare models (Nadin & Stead, 2008). For instance, the differences between Anglo-Saxon and Rhineland model principles also determine public-private relationships. However, the process of neoliberalization (Hackworth, 2007) and subsequent adaptation of neoliberal political ideologies (Harvey, 2005) has created quite similar governance arrangements in Western countries. Nevertheless, institutional rules incorporated in planning systems, laws and policies often remain country-specific. But, market-oriented planning, involving ‘planners as market actors’ (Adams & Tiesdell, 2010) intervening and operating within market systems, have become the most commonly shared feature of contemporary Western urban development practices (Carmona et al., 2009). In this research, the project organization focuses on institutional aspects and interorganizational arrangements that structure Public-Private Partnerships (Bult-Spiering & Dewulf, 2002). It involves studying organizational tasks and responsibilities, financial risks and revenues, and legal rules and requirements. Inter-organizational arrangements condition the way public and private actors manage projects. Hence, such arrangements can be placed on a public-private spectrum (Börzel & Risse, 2002) which indicates different power relations in terms of public and private autonomy and dominance (Savitch, 1997) in making planning decisions. These public-private power relations are reflected in different Public-Private Partnership arrangements (Bennet et al., 2000) in urban development projects. As a result, in some contexts these partnerships arrangements are formalized into organizational vehicles or legal contracts, in others there is an emphasis on informal partnerships and interaction. The lack of management knowledge on private sector-led urban development projects, and our view of management as any type of direct influencing, results in constructing a conceptual public-private urban management model (see Figure SUM.1). This model is based on both theoretical concepts and empirical reflection. In this research, the management of project processes by public and private actors contains applying both management activities and instruments. Project management (Wijnen et al., 2004) includes development stage-oriented initiating, designing, planning, and operating activities. Process management (Teisman, 2003) includes interaction-oriented negotiating, decision-making, and communicating activities. Management tools consist of legal-oriented shaping, regulating, stimulating, and capacity building planning tools (Adams et al., 2004). And management resources consist of crucial necessities (Burie, 1978) for realizing urban projects like land, capital and knowledge. In essence, all these management measures can be applied by public and private actors to influence (private sector-led) urban development projects. These management measures can be used by actors to reach project effects. In this research, project effects are perceived as judgment criteria for indicating the success of the management of private sector-led urban development projects. They consist of cooperation effectiveness, process efficiency, and spatial quality. Effectiveness involves the degree to which objectives are achieved and problems are resolved. Ef ficiency is the degree to which the process is considered as efficiently realizing projects within time and budget. Finally, spatial quality is the degree to which the project contributes to responding to user, experience and future values of involved actors (Hooijmeijer et al., 2001). Such process and product effects are a crucial addition to understand the results of private sector-led urban development projects. Comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method This research systematically analyzes and compares private sector-led urban development cases in both the Netherlands and the UK in a specific methodological way. In essence, this study is an empirical comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method. Hence, case studies allow for an empirical inquiry that investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real life context (Yin, 2003). Such a qualitative approach is very suited for the purposes of this research as it enables revealing empirical collaborative and managerial mechanisms within private sector-led urban development projects. The reason to include studying the UK lies is the fact that it can be considered as a market-oriented development practice, from which valuable lessons can be drawn for the Netherlands. Thereby, this research places itself in a longer tradition of Dutch interests in UK planning and development (e.g. Hobma et al., 2008). Hence, this research aims at drawing lessons in the form of ‘inspiration’ from practices and projects, as opposed to the more far-reaching transplantation of spatial policies (e.g. Janssen-Jansen et al., 2008). However, in order to draw meaningful empirical lessons there is a need to indicate whether they are context-dependent or -independent. This requires systematically comparing the institutional planning practices of both countries by indicating differences and similarities between the Netherlands and the UK. Based on these methodological principles ten Dutch and two UK of private sector-led urban development cases are selected and studied. The Dutch cases focus on scope over depth aimed at sketching the phenomenon of ‘area concessions’ in both inner-city and urban fringe projects. The UK cases focus on depth over scope aimed at understanding the applicability of a private sector-led approach in complex large-scale inner-city projects. As techniques the case study research uses document reviews, semi-structured interviews, project visits, and data mapping. Comparing Dutch and UK planning and urban development practices The institutional context of urban development in the Netherlands and the UK shows some structural differences, despite the fact that such contexts are often subject to change. For instance, the Dutch planning system uses Napoleonic codified law based on a constitution with abstract law principles as rule, and a limited role of judicial power. The UK planning system is based on British common law lacking a constitution, and uses law-making-as-we-go as judges act as law-makers. In terms of spatial planning, the Netherlands is characterized by binding land use plans within a limited-imperative system based on legal certainty. Dutch spatial planning can be labelled as ‘permitted planning’ based on ‘comprehensive integrative model’ (Dühr et al., 2010) which involves hierarchically coordinated and related public sector spatial plans. UK spatial planning has no binding land use plan, places importance on material considerations based on discretionary authority and flexibility. Historically, UK’s spatial planning can be labelled as ‘development-oriented planning’ based on a ‘land use management model’ with a focus on public sector coordinated planning policies. Moreover, Dutch and UK urban development also differ in terms of public and private roles in organizing and managing development (Heurkens, 2009). In the Netherlands, local governments are active bodies using spatial plans, active land development policies and public investment to develop cities. The private sector often operates reactively and is historically focused on the physical realization of projects. In general, public-private decision-making processes are based on reaching consensus, development project coordination typically involves ‘collaboration models’, and management is focused on process as product outcomes. In the UK, local government uses relatively less regulations and investment to develop cities, thereby facilitating market parties. The development industry is a mature sector, actively initiating and investing in projects. Decision-making is characterized by negotiations, and the organization of projects is often based on a clear formal public-private role division. Despite such a generic Dutch-UK comparison being of crucial importance to this research, it does no justice to increasing similarities between European planning practices. Moreover, such institutional contexts evolve as a result of changing planning priorities in each country. For instance, some basic characteristics of the UK planning system attracted the attention of Dutch planners, including comprehensive principles for project coordination, private sector involvement and negotiations, options for the settlement of ‘planning gain’, packaging interests, development-oriented planning, and discretion for planning decisions (Spaans, 2005). Hence, such more market-oriented planning principles have become valuable and sometimes necessary mechanisms to effectively cope with an increasingly less public-led and more private sector-led Dutch urban development practice. Empirical findings from Dutch private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the Netherlands since the year 2000 witnessed an increased use of the concession model. Hence, this is the Dutch definition for private sector-led urban development. It can best be characterized as a contract form between public and private parties which involves the transfer of risks, revenues, responsibilities for the plan, land and real estate development to private developers based on pre-defined set of public requirements (Gijzen, 2009). In theory (Van Rooy, 2007; Van de Klundert, 2008; Heurkens et al., 2008) this collaboration model holds promising advantages of being a more effective, efficient and transparent strategy to achieve a high quality built environment. Nonetheless, possible disadvantages like the lack of public ‘steering’, dependency of market actors and circumstances, inflexible contracts, a project management orientation, and a stern public-private relationship also are mentioned. Moreover, conditions for the application of concessions in theory involve a manageable project scale and duration, minimal political and societal complexity, and maximum freedom for private actors. Motives for choosing concessions are the lack of public labor capacity and financial development means, risk transfer to private actors, increasing private initiatives and private land ownership. Hence, in theory public and private roles in the concession model are considered as strictly separated. However, there is a lack of structural empirical understanding and evidence for such theoretical assumptions. Therefore, empirical cases in Amsterdam, The Hague, Enschede, Maassluis, Middelburg, Naaldwijk, Rotterdam, Tilburg, Utrecht, and Velsen (see Table 5.1) are carried out. This includes studying private sector-led projects in both inner-city and urban fringe locations. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of these ten Dutch projects are highlighted here. Notice that public-private interaction and collaboration remains of vital importance in Dutch private sector-led urban development projects. Despite the formal contractual separation of public and private tasks and responsibilities, in practice close informal cooperation can be witnessed, especially in the early development stages. Moreover, public actors do not remain as risk free as theory suggests, because unfavorable market circumstances can cause development delays affecting the living environment of inhabitants. Furthermore, it seems that constructing and using flexible public requirements with some non-negotiable rules is an effective condition for realizing public objectives during the process. In terms of management, most projects are hardly considered as solely private sector-led, as they involve a substantial amount of public management influence. For instance, project management activities include a dominant role of municipalities in initiating and operating the development. Process management activities are carried out by both actors, as they involve close public-private interactions. Management tools are mostly used by public actors to shape and regulate development with a limited conscious usage of stimulating and capacity building tools. Using the management resources land, capital and knowledge are mainly a private affair. In terms of effects, the concession model by actors is considered as an effective instrument, but not necessarily results in efficient processes. The general perception of public, private and civic actors about the project’s spatial quality level is positive. In addition, actors were asked about their cooperation experiences. Often mentioned problems include a ‘we against them relationship’, lack of public role consistency, thin line between plan judgment and control, public manager’s commitment and competency, communication with local communities, and lack of public management opportunities. Based on the empirical case studies, most conditions for applying concessions are confirmed. However, the successful inner-city development projects in Amsterdam and Enschede indicate that a private sector-led approach can also be applied to more complex urban development projects within cities. Empirical findings from UK’s private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the UK often is labelled as urban regeneration. Historically, it is strongly shaped by neoliberal political ideology of the Conservative Thatcher government in the 1980s. But it also is influenced by New Labour ideologies favoring the Third Way (Giddens, 1998) aimed at aligning economic, social and environmental policies. However, as a result of these institutional characteristics, the UK is strongly shaped by the understanding that most development is undertaken by private interests or by public bodies acting very much like private interests (Nadin et al., 2008). In general, local authorities depend on initiatives and investments of property developers and investors, because public financial resources and planning powers to actively develop land are limited. As a result, development control of private developments is a concept deeply embedded in development practice. Several legal instruments such as Section 106 agreements are used to establish planning gain by asking developer contributions for public functions. Moreover, urban development in the UK has a strong informal partnership culture, and simultaneously builds upon a strict formal legal public-private role division. These UK urban development practice characteristics provide valid reasons to study private sector-led urban development projects in more detail. The empirical cases of private sector-led urban development projects in the UK are Bristol Harbourside and Liverpool One. They represent mid-2000s strategic inner-city developments with a mixed-use functional program, and therefore possible high complexity. As such, they are relevant urban projects for drawing lessons for the Netherlands. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of the UK projects are discussed here. The case contexts show that politics and the often changeable nature of planning policies can have a major influence on the organization and management of development projects. Hence, strong and effective political leadership is considered as a crucial success factor. Changing policies result in re-establishing development conditions resulting in new publicprivate negotiations. In terms of organization, the cases indeed show that local authorities do not take on development risks. Moreover, revenue sharing with private actors is absent or limited to what the actors agree upon in development packages. Furthermore, local authorities encourage all kinds of partnerships with other public, private or civic stakeholders in order to generate development support and raise funds. In terms of management, local authorities use different management measures to influence projects. The cases indicate that public actors are able to influence private sector-led developments and thereby achieve public planning objectives. Importantly, public actors use all kinds of managing tools to shape and stimulate development; they do not limit themselves to regulation but also build capacity for development. However, the largest share of managing the project takes place on behalf of project developers. Private actors manage projects from initial design towards even public space operation (Liverpool). Thereby, they work with long-term investment business models increasing private commitment. In terms of effects, the cases show that although the projects are carried out effectively and achieve high quality levels, the process efficiency lacks behind due to lengthy negotiations. In conclusion, the actors’ experiences with the private sector-led urban development projects indicate some problems including; the financial dependency on private actors, lack of financial incentives for public actors, lack of awareness of civic demands, lack of controlling public opposition, long negotiation processes, and absence of skilled public managers. Moreover, the actors indicate some crucial conditions for a private sectorled approach including; flexible general public guidelines, informal partnerships and joint working, public and private leadership roles and skills, professional attitude and long term commitment of private actors, involvement of local communities, separating public planning and development roles, handling political pressures, and favorable market circumstances. Empirical lessons, improvements and inspiration Some general conclusions from the Dutch and UK case comparison can be drawn (see Table 8.1). The influence of the project’s context in the UK seems to be higher than in the Netherlands, especially political powers and changeable policies influence projects. The organizational role division in UK projects seems to be stricter than in the Dutch projects, where public requirements sometimes are also formulated in more detail. The actor’s management in the Dutch cases is slightly less private sector-led than in the UK, where local authorities and developers are more aware of how to use management measures at their disposal. The project effects show quite some resemblance; effectiveness and spatial quality can be achieved, while efficiency remains difficult to achieve due to the negotiation culture. Here, important empirical lessons learned from cases in both countries are discussed aimed at formulating possible solutions for perceived Dutch problems. The problematic Dutch ‘we against them relationship’ between actors in the UK is handled by a close collaboration. Developers organize regular informative and interactive design meetings with local authorities, sharing ideas in a ‘joint-up working’ atmosphere. The lack of public role consistency in the UK is resolved by local authorities that develop a clear schedule of spatial requirements which provides certainty. Moreover, room for negotiations allows for the flexibility to react on changed circumstances. The thin line between judgment and control of plans is not commonly recognized in the UK cases. Local authorities tend to respect that developers need room to carry out development activities on their own professional insights, and merely control if developers deliver ‘product specifications’ in time and to agreed conditions. The commitment and competencies of public project managers are also mentioned as crucial factors in the UK. It involves managers connecting the project to the political and civic environment, and leaders committing themselves to project support through communication with local communities. The lack of public management seems to be a Dutch perceived difficulty as UK local authorities do not apply active land development policies and ‘hard’ management resources. Therefore, they influence development with both more consciously applied legal tools and ‘soft’ management skills such as negotiating. Recommended improvements mentioned by Dutch practitioners here are mirrored to possible support from the UK cases. The Dutch recommendation to cooperate in pre-development stages to create public project support and commitment finds support in the UK. Hence, despite a formal division of public and private responsibilities, in practice a lot of informal public-private interaction and collaboration takes place and seems necessary. Striving for public role consistency also is an appreciated value by developers in the UK. Working on the principle of ‘agreement is agreement’ creates certainty for developers, and less resistance and willingness to cooperate once highly relevant public issues are put on the table. Establishing clear process agreements with moments of control or discussion in the UK are handled with evaluation moments aimed at judging output, and planned meetings aimed at creating a dialogue about new insights. Connecting planning and development processes in the UK is handled by a municipal team consisting of political leaders and project managers that align development processes with administrative planning processes. A clear communication plan to involve local communities and businesses in the UK is handled by developers which involve relevant stakeholders in the decision-making process prior to planning applications for support and process efficiency. Finding public opportunities to influence development other than land and capital in the UK is handled through the use of several public planning tools and publicprivate negotiations. The UK cases also provided various inspirational lessons for the Netherlands. First, the construction and application of a public ‘management toolbox’ consisting of various planning tools that shape, stimulate, regulate and activate the market could assist local authorities to view management more integratively and use existing instruments more consciously. Second, choosing a private development partner with professional expertise, track record and local knowledge, instead of an economically lucrative private tender offer for private sector-led urban development projects, has the advantage of creating a cooperative relationship. The reason for this is that flexible development concepts rather than fixed development plans are indicators of a cooperative attitude of a developer. Third, enabling partnership agreements between public, private and civic actors aimed at creating wide support and long-term commitment by expressing development intentions assists pulling together development resources from both investors and central government. Fourth, privately-owned public space based on a land lease agreement containing public space conditions creates several financial advantages. For local authorities it eliminates public maintenance costs, and for private actors the operation of the area and maintaining high quality standards can be beneficial for real estate sales and returns. Fifth, the value increase-oriented investment model of a long-term private development investor rather than a short-term project-oriented developer with a trade-off model between time, costs and quality has advantages. Large amounts of upfront investment can more easily be financed as high quality environments and properties increase the area’s competitive position and investment returns. Sixth, local authorities can establish partnerships that actively apply for public funding alternatives such as lottery funds. Such funds secure the development of public functions and create interest for commercial actors to invest, which can result possibilities to negotiate development packages which can results in a planning gain for public actors. Seventh, public and private leadership styles on different organizational levels for inner-city development projects result in more efficient processes. Appointing strategictactical operating political leaders and private firm directors and tactical-operational public and private project leaders streamlines internal and external communication and shared project commitment and support. Finally, the UK shows that a private sector-led approach can successfully be applied to complex inner-city developments. Despite the complex social and political character, fragmented land ownership situation, and high remediation costs UK developers can deliver such projects succesfully. Conditions seem a professionally skilled and financially empowered developer, and active local authorities that facilitate market initiatives. The likelihood of transfer of the inspirational UK lessons depends on some Dutch institutional characteristics (economics & politics, governance culture, planning system and policies). However, most lessons are context-independent and thus can be applied in the Dutch urban development practice. But, Table 8.2 also shows some institutional context-dependent features that limit the transfer of UK findings to the Netherlands. This includes the general short-term scope of Dutch developers and the general wish from municipalities to hold ‘control’ over development projects. Reflections on safeguarding public interests & alternative financing instruments The epilogue contains conceptual reflections about alternative ways for safeguarding public interests and private financing instruments in line with the current social-economic climate. These reflections are not based on research findings but on an additional literature review that provides food for thought for public and private actors in urban development. Hence, safeguarding public interests is an important concern for public actors, especially in market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban development projects. In our pluralistic society it has become impossible for one actor to determine the public interest in all occasions. In line with societal development it would not only be socially-coherent for governments to engage private and civic actors in safeguarding public interests, but even a social necessity. Consciously applying different public interest safeguarding strategies based on both hierarchical, market and network mechanisms (De Bruijn & Dicke, 2006) provide this opportunity. By using a combination of legitimized hierarchical mechanisms, competitionoriented market mechanisms, and inter-action oriented network mechanisms, public values become institutionalized in private and civic sectors. Then, the role of public planning institutions in safeguarding increasing economic values, social cohesion and public health is to use both legitimate planning tools and accountable planning activities. It enables other actors to become both more responsible for and involved in their own built environment. In market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban projects, safeguarding public interest instruments include non-negotiable general planning standards which secure basic needs of civilians, and negotiable development conditions which create involvement of other actors. Non-negotiable safeguarding instruments include; public tender requirements, land use plans, planning permissions and financial claims. Negotiable safeguarding instruments include; contractual conditions, competitive dialogues, spatial quality plans, developer contributions, development incentives, performance indicators, and ownership (see Figure 10.2). The reliance of private investment in private sector-led urban development projects asks for exploring alternative financing instruments for urban projects with less reliance on credit capital. This is a crucial subject being the result of the effect the current economic situation has on the land and property market. Hence, it is widely acknowledged that in many development practices around the globe property investment for urban development has changed radically as a result of the international credit crisis and economic downturn (Parkinson et al., 2009). ‘New financial models’ have the attention of several Dutch practitioners (e.g. Van Rooy, 2011) and academics (e.g. Van der Krabben, 2011b). In the current Dutch urban development practice, one notices an increased interest in demand-driven development strategies promoting; bottom-up development initiatives, value-oriented investment strategies, and de-risked phasing of development, which potentially increase the feasibility of urban projects. A literature review indicates promising alternative financing instruments for Dutch urban development practice and private sector-led urban development projects, including; Tax Increment Financing, Temporary Development/Investment Grants, Lottery Funds, DBFM/ Concession Light, Crowd Funding, Urban Development Trusts, Business Improvement Districts, and Urban Reparcelling. These instruments have different features such as investment source, development incentives, organizational requirements and object conditions, which need to be taken into account by public and private actors once applied (see Table 10.3).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
30

Heurkens, Erwin. "Private Sector-led Urban Development Projects. Management, Partnerships and Effects in the Netherlands and the UK." Architecture and the Built Environment, 2012. http://dx.doi.org/10.59490/abe.2012.4.168.

Full text
Abstract:
Central to this research lays the concept of private sector-led urban development projects (Heurkens, 2010). Such projects involve project developers taking a leading role and local authorities adopting a facilitating role, in managing the development of an urban area, based on a clear public-private role division. Such a development strategy is quite common in Anglo-Saxon urban development practices, but is less known in Continental European practices. Nonetheless, since the beginning of the millennium such a development strategy also occurred in the Netherlands in the form of ‘concessions’. However, remarkably little empirical knowledge is available about how public and private actors collaborate on and manage private sector-led urban development projects. Moreover, it remains unclear what the effects of such projects are. This dissertation provides an understanding of the various characteristics of private sector-led urban development projects by conducting empirical case study research in the institutional contexts of the Netherlands and the UK. The research provides an answer to the following research question: What can we learn from private sector-led urban development projects in the Netherlands and UK in terms of the collaborative and managerial roles of public and private actors, and the effects of their (inter)actions? Indications for a market-oriented Dutch urban development practice Urban development practice in the Netherlands has been subject to changes pointing towards more private sector involvement in the built environment in the past decades. Although the current economic recession might indicate otherwise, there are several motives that indicate a continuation of private sector involvement and a private leadership role in Dutch urban development projects in the future. First, a shift towards more market-oriented development practice is the result of an evolutionary process of increased ‘neoliberalization’ and the adoption of Anglo-Saxon principles in Dutch society. Despite its Rhineland roots with a focus on welfare provision, in the Netherlands several neoliberal principles (privatization, decentralization, deregulation) have been adopted by government and incorporated in the management of organizations (Bakker et al., 2005). Hence, market institutionalization on the one hand, and rising civic emancipation on the other, in current Western societies prevents a return towards hierarchical governance. Second, the result of such changes is the emergence of a market-oriented type of planning practice based on the concept of ‘development planning’. Public-Private Partnerships and the ‘forward integration’ of market parties (De Zeeuw, 2007) enforce the role of market actors. In historical perspective, Boelens et al. (2006) argue that Dutch spatial planning always has been characterized by public-private collaborations in which governments facilitated private and civic entrepreneurship. Therefore, post-war public-led spatial planning with necessary government intervention was a ‘temporary hiccup’, an exception to the rule. Third, the European Commission expresses concerns about the hybrid role of public actors in Dutch institutionalized PPP joint ventures. EU legislation opts for formal public-private role divisions in realizing urban projects based on Anglo-Saxon law that comply with the legislative tendering principles of competition, transparency, equality, and public legitimacy. Fourth, experiences with joint ventures in the Netherlands are less positive as often is advocated. Such institutionalized public-private entities have seldom generated the assumed added value, caused by misconceptions about the objectives of both partners grounded in incompatible value systems. This results in contra-productive levels of distrust, time-consuming partnership formations, lack of transparency, and compromising decision-making processes (Teisman & Klijn, 2002), providing a need for other forms of collaboration. Finally, current financial retrenchments in the public sector and debates about the possible abundance of Dutch active land development policies point towards a lean and mean government that moves away from risk-bearing participation and investment in urban projects and leaves this to the market. Importantly, Van der Krabben (2011b) argues that the Dutch active public land development policies can be considered as an international exception, and advocates for facilitating land development policies. In this light, it becomes highly relevant to study private sector-led urban development as a future Dutch urban development strategy. Integrative urban management approach This research is rooted in the research school of Urban Area Development within the Department of Real Estate and Housing at the Faculty of Architecture (Delft University of Technology). It is a relatively young academic domain which views urban development most profoundly as a complex management assignment (Bruil et al., 2004; Franzen et al., 2011). This academic school uses an integrative perspective with a strong practice-orientation and carries out solution-oriented design research. Here, the integration involves bridging various actor interests, spatial functions, spatial scales, academic domains, knowledge and skills, development goals, and links process with content aspects. Such a perspective does justice to complex societal processes. Therefore it provides a fruitful ground for studying urban development aimed at developing conceptual knowledge and product for science and practice. Such integrative perspective and practice-orientation forms the basis of this research and has been applied in the following manner. In order to create an understanding of the roles of public and private actors in private sector-led urban development, this research takes a management perspective based on an integrative management approach. This involves viewing management more broadly as ‘any type of direct influencing’ urban development projects, and therefore aims at bridging often separated management theories (Osborne, 2000a). Hence, an integrative management approach assists in both understanding urban development practices and projects and constructing useful conceptual tools for practitioners and academics. Integrative approaches attempt to combine a number of different elements into a more holistic management approach (Black & Porter, 2000). Importantly, it does not view the management of projects in isolation but in its entire complexity and dynamics. Therefore, our management approach combines two integrative management theories; the open systems theory (De Leeuw, 2002) and contingency theory. The former provides opportunities to study the management of a project in a structured manner. The latter emphasizes that there is no universally effective way of managing and recognizes the importance of contextual circumstances. Hence, an integrative management approach favors incorporating theories from multiple academic domains such as political science, economics, law, business administration, and organizational and management concepts. Hence, it moves away from the classical academic division between planning theory and property theory, and organization and management theories. It positions itself in between such academic domains, and aims at bridging theoretical viewpoints by following the concept of planning ánd markets (Alexander, 2001) rather than concepts such as ‘planning versus markets’, public versus private sector, and organization versus management. Also, such an integrative view values the complexity and dynamics of empirical urban development practices. More specifically, this research studies urban development projects as object, as urban areas are the focus point of spatial intervention and public-private interaction (Daamen, 2010), and thus collaboration and management. Here, public planning processes and private development processes merge with each other. Thus, our research continues to build upon the importance of studying and reflecting on empirical practices and projects (e.g. Healey, 2006). In addition to these authors, this research does so by using meaningful integrative concepts that reflect empirical realities of urban projects. Thereby, this research serves to bridge management sciences with management practices (Van Aken, 2004; Mintzberg, 2010) through iterative processes of reflecting on science and practice. Moreover, the integrative management approach applied in this research assists in filling an academic gap, namely the lack of management knowledge about public-private interaction in urban development projects. Despite the vast amount of literature on the governance of planning practices (e.g. DiGaetano & Strom, 2003), and Public-Private Partnerships (e.g. Osborne, 2000b), remarkable little knowledge exists about what shifting public-private relationships mean for day-to-day management by public and private actors in development projects. Hence, here we follow the main argument made by public administration scholar Klijn (2008) who claims that it is such direct actor influence that brings about the most significant change to the built environment. An integrative urban management model (see Figure 2.3) based on the open systems approach has been constructed which forms a conceptual representation of empirical private sectorled urban development projects. This model serves as an analytical tool to comprehend the complexity of managing such projects. In this research, several theoretical insights about publicprivate relations and roles are used to understand different contextual and organizational factors that affect the management of private sector-led urban development projects. Hence, a project context exists within different often country-specific institutional environments (e.g. the Netherlands and UK). In this research, contextual aspects that to a degree determine the way public and private actors inter-organize urban projects, consist of economics & politics, governance cultures, and planning systems and policies. Hence, institutional values are deeply rooted in social welfare models (Nadin & Stead, 2008). For instance, the differences between Anglo-Saxon and Rhineland model principles also determine public-private relationships. However, the process of neoliberalization (Hackworth, 2007) and subsequent adaptation of neoliberal political ideologies (Harvey, 2005) has created quite similar governance arrangements in Western countries. Nevertheless, institutional rules incorporated in planning systems, laws and policies often remain country-specific. But, market-oriented planning, involving ‘planners as market actors’ (Adams & Tiesdell, 2010) intervening and operating within market systems, have become the most commonly shared feature of contemporary Western urban development practices (Carmona et al., 2009). In this research, the project organization focuses on institutional aspects and interorganizational arrangements that structure Public-Private Partnerships (Bult-Spiering & Dewulf, 2002). It involves studying organizational tasks and responsibilities, financial risks and revenues, and legal rules and requirements. Inter-organizational arrangements condition the way public and private actors manage projects. Hence, such arrangements can be placed on a public-private spectrum (Börzel & Risse, 2002) which indicates different power relations in terms of public and private autonomy and dominance (Savitch, 1997) in making planning decisions. These public-private power relations are reflected in different Public-Private Partnership arrangements (Bennet et al., 2000) in urban development projects. As a result, in some contexts these partnerships arrangements are formalized into organizational vehicles or legal contracts, in others there is an emphasis on informal partnerships and interaction. The lack of management knowledge on private sector-led urban development projects, and our view of management as any type of direct influencing, results in constructing a conceptual public-private urban management model (see Figure SUM.1). This model is based on both theoretical concepts and empirical reflection. In this research, the management of project processes by public and private actors contains applying both management activities and instruments. Project management (Wijnen et al., 2004) includes development stage-oriented initiating, designing, planning, and operating activities. Process management (Teisman, 2003) includes interaction-oriented negotiating, decision-making, and communicating activities. Management tools consist of legal-oriented shaping, regulating, stimulating, and capacity building planning tools (Adams et al., 2004). And management resources consist of crucial necessities (Burie, 1978) for realizing urban projects like land, capital and knowledge. In essence, all these management measures can be applied by public and private actors to influence (private sector-led) urban development projects. These management measures can be used by actors to reach project effects. In this research, project effects are perceived as judgment criteria for indicating the success of the management of private sector-led urban development projects. They consist of cooperation effectiveness, process efficiency, and spatial quality. Effectiveness involves the degree to which objectives are achieved and problems are resolved. Ef ficiency is the degree to which the process is considered as efficiently realizing projects within time and budget. Finally, spatial quality is the degree to which the project contributes to responding to user, experience and future values of involved actors (Hooijmeijer et al., 2001). Such process and product effects are a crucial addition to understand the results of private sector-led urban development projects. Comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method This research systematically analyzes and compares private sector-led urban development cases in both the Netherlands and the UK in a specific methodological way. In essence, this study is an empirical comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method. Hence, case studies allow for an empirical inquiry that investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real life context (Yin, 2003). Such a qualitative approach is very suited for the purposes of this research as it enables revealing empirical collaborative and managerial mechanisms within private sector-led urban development projects. The reason to include studying the UK lies is the fact that it can be considered as a market-oriented development practice, from which valuable lessons can be drawn for the Netherlands. Thereby, this research places itself in a longer tradition of Dutch interests in UK planning and development (e.g. Hobma et al., 2008). Hence, this research aims at drawing lessons in the form of ‘inspiration’ from practices and projects, as opposed to the more far-reaching transplantation of spatial policies (e.g. Janssen-Jansen et al., 2008). However, in order to draw meaningful empirical lessons there is a need to indicate whether they are context-dependent or -independent. This requires systematically comparing the institutional planning practices of both countries by indicating differences and similarities between the Netherlands and the UK. Based on these methodological principles ten Dutch and two UK of private sector-led urban development cases are selected and studied. The Dutch cases focus on scope over depth aimed at sketching the phenomenon of ‘area concessions’ in both inner-city and urban fringe projects. The UK cases focus on depth over scope aimed at understanding the applicability of a private sector-led approach in complex large-scale inner-city projects. As techniques the case study research uses document reviews, semi-structured interviews, project visits, and data mapping. Comparing Dutch and UK planning and urban development practices The institutional context of urban development in the Netherlands and the UK shows some structural differences, despite the fact that such contexts are often subject to change. For instance, the Dutch planning system uses Napoleonic codified law based on a constitution with abstract law principles as rule, and a limited role of judicial power. The UK planning system is based on British common law lacking a constitution, and uses law-making-as-we-go as judges act as law-makers. In terms of spatial planning, the Netherlands is characterized by binding land use plans within a limited-imperative system based on legal certainty. Dutch spatial planning can be labelled as ‘permitted planning’ based on ‘comprehensive integrative model’ (Dühr et al., 2010) which involves hierarchically coordinated and related public sector spatial plans. UK spatial planning has no binding land use plan, places importance on material considerations based on discretionary authority and flexibility. Historically, UK’s spatial planning can be labelled as ‘development-oriented planning’ based on a ‘land use management model’ with a focus on public sector coordinated planning policies. Moreover, Dutch and UK urban development also differ in terms of public and private roles in organizing and managing development (Heurkens, 2009). In the Netherlands, local governments are active bodies using spatial plans, active land development policies and public investment to develop cities. The private sector often operates reactively and is historically focused on the physical realization of projects. In general, public-private decision-making processes are based on reaching consensus, development project coordination typically involves ‘collaboration models’, and management is focused on process as product outcomes. In the UK, local government uses relatively less regulations and investment to develop cities, thereby facilitating market parties. The development industry is a mature sector, actively initiating and investing in projects. Decision-making is characterized by negotiations, and the organization of projects is often based on a clear formal public-private role division. Despite such a generic Dutch-UK comparison being of crucial importance to this research, it does no justice to increasing similarities between European planning practices. Moreover, such institutional contexts evolve as a result of changing planning priorities in each country. For instance, some basic characteristics of the UK planning system attracted the attention of Dutch planners, including comprehensive principles for project coordination, private sector involvement and negotiations, options for the settlement of ‘planning gain’, packaging interests, development-oriented planning, and discretion for planning decisions (Spaans, 2005). Hence, such more market-oriented planning principles have become valuable and sometimes necessary mechanisms to effectively cope with an increasingly less public-led and more private sector-led Dutch urban development practice. Empirical findings from Dutch private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the Netherlands since the year 2000 witnessed an increased use of the concession model. Hence, this is the Dutch definition for private sector-led urban development. It can best be characterized as a contract form between public and private parties which involves the transfer of risks, revenues, responsibilities for the plan, land and real estate development to private developers based on pre-defined set of public requirements (Gijzen, 2009). In theory (Van Rooy, 2007; Van de Klundert, 2008; Heurkens et al., 2008) this collaboration model holds promising advantages of being a more effective, efficient and transparent strategy to achieve a high quality built environment. Nonetheless, possible disadvantages like the lack of public ‘steering’, dependency of market actors and circumstances, inflexible contracts, a project management orientation, and a stern public-private relationship also are mentioned. Moreover, conditions for the application of concessions in theory involve a manageable project scale and duration, minimal political and societal complexity, and maximum freedom for private actors. Motives for choosing concessions are the lack of public labor capacity and financial development means, risk transfer to private actors, increasing private initiatives and private land ownership. Hence, in theory public and private roles in the concession model are considered as strictly separated. However, there is a lack of structural empirical understanding and evidence for such theoretical assumptions. Therefore, empirical cases in Amsterdam, The Hague, Enschede, Maassluis, Middelburg, Naaldwijk, Rotterdam, Tilburg, Utrecht, and Velsen (see Table 5.1) are carried out. This includes studying private sector-led projects in both inner-city and urban fringe locations. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of these ten Dutch projects are highlighted here. Notice that public-private interaction and collaboration remains of vital importance in Dutch private sector-led urban development projects. Despite the formal contractual separation of public and private tasks and responsibilities, in practice close informal cooperation can be witnessed, especially in the early development stages. Moreover, public actors do not remain as risk free as theory suggests, because unfavorable market circumstances can cause development delays affecting the living environment of inhabitants. Furthermore, it seems that constructing and using flexible public requirements with some non-negotiable rules is an effective condition for realizing public objectives during the process. In terms of management, most projects are hardly considered as solely private sector-led, as they involve a substantial amount of public management influence. For instance, project management activities include a dominant role of municipalities in initiating and operating the development. Process management activities are carried out by both actors, as they involve close public-private interactions. Management tools are mostly used by public actors to shape and regulate development with a limited conscious usage of stimulating and capacity building tools. Using the management resources land, capital and knowledge are mainly a private affair. In terms of effects, the concession model by actors is considered as an effective instrument, but not necessarily results in efficient processes. The general perception of public, private and civic actors about the project’s spatial quality level is positive. In addition, actors were asked about their cooperation experiences. Often mentioned problems include a ‘we against them relationship’, lack of public role consistency, thin line between plan judgment and control, public manager’s commitment and competency, communication with local communities, and lack of public management opportunities. Based on the empirical case studies, most conditions for applying concessions are confirmed. However, the successful inner-city development projects in Amsterdam and Enschede indicate that a private sector-led approach can also be applied to more complex urban development projects within cities. Empirical findings from UK’s private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the UK often is labelled as urban regeneration. Historically, it is strongly shaped by neoliberal political ideology of the Conservative Thatcher government in the 1980s. But it also is influenced by New Labour ideologies favoring the Third Way (Giddens, 1998) aimed at aligning economic, social and environmental policies. However, as a result of these institutional characteristics, the UK is strongly shaped by the understanding that most development is undertaken by private interests or by public bodies acting very much like private interests (Nadin et al., 2008). In general, local authorities depend on initiatives and investments of property developers and investors, because public financial resources and planning powers to actively develop land are limited. As a result, development control of private developments is a concept deeply embedded in development practice. Several legal instruments such as Section 106 agreements are used to establish planning gain by asking developer contributions for public functions. Moreover, urban development in the UK has a strong informal partnership culture, and simultaneously builds upon a strict formal legal public-private role division. These UK urban development practice characteristics provide valid reasons to study private sector-led urban development projects in more detail. The empirical cases of private sector-led urban development projects in the UK are Bristol Harbourside and Liverpool One. They represent mid-2000s strategic inner-city developments with a mixed-use functional program, and therefore possible high complexity. As such, they are relevant urban projects for drawing lessons for the Netherlands. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of the UK projects are discussed here. The case contexts show that politics and the often changeable nature of planning policies can have a major influence on the organization and management of development projects. Hence, strong and effective political leadership is considered as a crucial success factor. Changing policies result in re-establishing development conditions resulting in new publicprivate negotiations. In terms of organization, the cases indeed show that local authorities do not take on development risks. Moreover, revenue sharing with private actors is absent or limited to what the actors agree upon in development packages. Furthermore, local authorities encourage all kinds of partnerships with other public, private or civic stakeholders in order to generate development support and raise funds. In terms of management, local authorities use different management measures to influence projects. The cases indicate that public actors are able to influence private sector-led developments and thereby achieve public planning objectives. Importantly, public actors use all kinds of managing tools to shape and stimulate development; they do not limit themselves to regulation but also build capacity for development. However, the largest share of managing the project takes place on behalf of project developers. Private actors manage projects from initial design towards even public space operation (Liverpool). Thereby, they work with long-term investment business models increasing private commitment. In terms of effects, the cases show that although the projects are carried out effectively and achieve high quality levels, the process efficiency lacks behind due to lengthy negotiations. In conclusion, the actors’ experiences with the private sector-led urban development projects indicate some problems including; the financial dependency on private actors, lack of financial incentives for public actors, lack of awareness of civic demands, lack of controlling public opposition, long negotiation processes, and absence of skilled public managers. Moreover, the actors indicate some crucial conditions for a private sectorled approach including; flexible general public guidelines, informal partnerships and joint working, public and private leadership roles and skills, professional attitude and long term commitment of private actors, involvement of local communities, separating public planning and development roles, handling political pressures, and favorable market circumstances. Empirical lessons, improvements and inspiration Some general conclusions from the Dutch and UK case comparison can be drawn (see Table 8.1). The influence of the project’s context in the UK seems to be higher than in the Netherlands, especially political powers and changeable policies influence projects. The organizational role division in UK projects seems to be stricter than in the Dutch projects, where public requirements sometimes are also formulated in more detail. The actor’s management in the Dutch cases is slightly less private sector-led than in the UK, where local authorities and developers are more aware of how to use management measures at their disposal. The project effects show quite some resemblance; effectiveness and spatial quality can be achieved, while efficiency remains difficult to achieve due to the negotiation culture. Here, important empirical lessons learned from cases in both countries are discussed aimed at formulating possible solutions for perceived Dutch problems. The problematic Dutch ‘we against them relationship’ between actors in the UK is handled by a close collaboration. Developers organize regular informative and interactive design meetings with local authorities, sharing ideas in a ‘joint-up working’ atmosphere. The lack of public role consistency in the UK is resolved by local authorities that develop a clear schedule of spatial requirements which provides certainty. Moreover, room for negotiations allows for the flexibility to react on changed circumstances. The thin line between judgment and control of plans is not commonly recognized in the UK cases. Local authorities tend to respect that developers need room to carry out development activities on their own professional insights, and merely control if developers deliver ‘product specifications’ in time and to agreed conditions. The commitment and competencies of public project managers are also mentioned as crucial factors in the UK. It involves managers connecting the project to the political and civic environment, and leaders committing themselves to project support through communication with local communities. The lack of public management seems to be a Dutch perceived difficulty as UK local authorities do not apply active land development policies and ‘hard’ management resources. Therefore, they influence development with both more consciously applied legal tools and ‘soft’ management skills such as negotiating. Recommended improvements mentioned by Dutch practitioners here are mirrored to possible support from the UK cases. The Dutch recommendation to cooperate in pre-development stages to create public project support and commitment finds support in the UK. Hence, despite a formal division of public and private responsibilities, in practice a lot of informal public-private interaction and collaboration takes place and seems necessary. Striving for public role consistency also is an appreciated value by developers in the UK. Working on the principle of ‘agreement is agreement’ creates certainty for developers, and less resistance and willingness to cooperate once highly relevant public issues are put on the table. Establishing clear process agreements with moments of control or discussion in the UK are handled with evaluation moments aimed at judging output, and planned meetings aimed at creating a dialogue about new insights. Connecting planning and development processes in the UK is handled by a municipal team consisting of political leaders and project managers that align development processes with administrative planning processes. A clear communication plan to involve local communities and businesses in the UK is handled by developers which involve relevant stakeholders in the decision-making process prior to planning applications for support and process efficiency. Finding public opportunities to influence development other than land and capital in the UK is handled through the use of several public planning tools and publicprivate negotiations. The UK cases also provided various inspirational lessons for the Netherlands. First, the construction and application of a public ‘management toolbox’ consisting of various planning tools that shape, stimulate, regulate and activate the market could assist local authorities to view management more integratively and use existing instruments more consciously. Second, choosing a private development partner with professional expertise, track record and local knowledge, instead of an economically lucrative private tender offer for private sector-led urban development projects, has the advantage of creating a cooperative relationship. The reason for this is that flexible development concepts rather than fixed development plans are indicators of a cooperative attitude of a developer. Third, enabling partnership agreements between public, private and civic actors aimed at creating wide support and long-term commitment by expressing development intentions assists pulling together development resources from both investors and central government. Fourth, privately-owned public space based on a land lease agreement containing public space conditions creates several financial advantages. For local authorities it eliminates public maintenance costs, and for private actors the operation of the area and maintaining high quality standards can be beneficial for real estate sales and returns. Fifth, the value increase-oriented investment model of a long-term private development investor rather than a short-term project-oriented developer with a trade-off model between time, costs and quality has advantages. Large amounts of upfront investment can more easily be financed as high quality environments and properties increase the area’s competitive position and investment returns. Sixth, local authorities can establish partnerships that actively apply for public funding alternatives such as lottery funds. Such funds secure the development of public functions and create interest for commercial actors to invest, which can result possibilities to negotiate development packages which can results in a planning gain for public actors. Seventh, public and private leadership styles on different organizational levels for inner-city development projects result in more efficient processes. Appointing strategictactical operating political leaders and private firm directors and tactical-operational public and private project leaders streamlines internal and external communication and shared project commitment and support. Finally, the UK shows that a private sector-led approach can successfully be applied to complex inner-city developments. Despite the complex social and political character, fragmented land ownership situation, and high remediation costs UK developers can deliver such projects succesfully. Conditions seem a professionally skilled and financially empowered developer, and active local authorities that facilitate market initiatives. The likelihood of transfer of the inspirational UK lessons depends on some Dutch institutional characteristics (economics & politics, governance culture, planning system and policies). However, most lessons are context-independent and thus can be applied in the Dutch urban development practice. But, Table 8.2 also shows some institutional context-dependent features that limit the transfer of UK findings to the Netherlands. This includes the general short-term scope of Dutch developers and the general wish from municipalities to hold ‘control’ over development projects. Reflections on safeguarding public interests & alternative financing instruments The epilogue contains conceptual reflections about alternative ways for safeguarding public interests and private financing instruments in line with the current social-economic climate. These reflections are not based on research findings but on an additional literature review that provides food for thought for public and private actors in urban development. Hence, safeguarding public interests is an important concern for public actors, especially in market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban development projects. In our pluralistic society it has become impossible for one actor to determine the public interest in all occasions. In line with societal development it would not only be socially-coherent for governments to engage private and civic actors in safeguarding public interests, but even a social necessity. Consciously applying different public interest safeguarding strategies based on both hierarchical, market and network mechanisms (De Bruijn & Dicke, 2006) provide this opportunity. By using a combination of legitimized hierarchical mechanisms, competitionoriented market mechanisms, and inter-action oriented network mechanisms, public values become institutionalized in private and civic sectors. Then, the role of public planning institutions in safeguarding increasing economic values, social cohesion and public health is to use both legitimate planning tools and accountable planning activities. It enables other actors to become both more responsible for and involved in their own built environment. In market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban projects, safeguarding public interest instruments include non-negotiable general planning standards which secure basic needs of civilians, and negotiable development conditions which create involvement of other actors. Non-negotiable safeguarding instruments include; public tender requirements, land use plans, planning permissions and financial claims. Negotiable safeguarding instruments include; contractual conditions, competitive dialogues, spatial quality plans, developer contributions, development incentives, performance indicators, and ownership (see Figure 10.2). The reliance of private investment in private sector-led urban development projects asks for exploring alternative financing instruments for urban projects with less reliance on credit capital. This is a crucial subject being the result of the effect the current economic situation has on the land and property market. Hence, it is widely acknowledged that in many development practices around the globe property investment for urban development has changed radically as a result of the international credit crisis and economic downturn (Parkinson et al., 2009). ‘New financial models’ have the attention of several Dutch practitioners (e.g. Van Rooy, 2011) and academics (e.g. Van der Krabben, 2011b). In the current Dutch urban development practice, one notices an increased interest in demand-driven development strategies promoting; bottom-up development initiatives, value-oriented investment strategies, and de-risked phasing of development, which potentially increase the feasibility of urban projects. A literature review indicates promising alternative financing instruments for Dutch urban development practice and private sector-led urban development projects, including; Tax Increment Financing, Temporary Development/Investment Grants, Lottery Funds, DBFM/ Concession Light, Crowd Funding, Urban Development Trusts, Business Improvement Districts, and Urban Reparcelling. These instruments have different features such as investment source, development incentives, organizational requirements and object conditions, which need to be taken into account by public and private actors once applied (see Table 10.3).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
31

Heurkens, Erwin. "Private Sector-led Urban Development Projects. Management, Partnerships and Effects in the Netherlands and the UK." Architecture and the Built Environment, 2012. http://dx.doi.org/10.59490/abe.2012.4.167.

Full text
Abstract:
Central to this research lays the concept of private sector-led urban development projects (Heurkens, 2010). Such projects involve project developers taking a leading role and local authorities adopting a facilitating role, in managing the development of an urban area, based on a clear public-private role division. Such a development strategy is quite common in Anglo-Saxon urban development practices, but is less known in Continental European practices. Nonetheless, since the beginning of the millennium such a development strategy also occurred in the Netherlands in the form of ‘concessions’. However, remarkably little empirical knowledge is available about how public and private actors collaborate on and manage private sector-led urban development projects. Moreover, it remains unclear what the effects of such projects are. This dissertation provides an understanding of the various characteristics of private sector-led urban development projects by conducting empirical case study research in the institutional contexts of the Netherlands and the UK. The research provides an answer to the following research question: What can we learn from private sector-led urban development projects in the Netherlands and UK in terms of the collaborative and managerial roles of public and private actors, and the effects of their (inter)actions? Indications for a market-oriented Dutch urban development practice Urban development practice in the Netherlands has been subject to changes pointing towards more private sector involvement in the built environment in the past decades. Although the current economic recession might indicate otherwise, there are several motives that indicate a continuation of private sector involvement and a private leadership role in Dutch urban development projects in the future. First, a shift towards more market-oriented development practice is the result of an evolutionary process of increased ‘neoliberalization’ and the adoption of Anglo-Saxon principles in Dutch society. Despite its Rhineland roots with a focus on welfare provision, in the Netherlands several neoliberal principles (privatization, decentralization, deregulation) have been adopted by government and incorporated in the management of organizations (Bakker et al., 2005). Hence, market institutionalization on the one hand, and rising civic emancipation on the other, in current Western societies prevents a return towards hierarchical governance. Second, the result of such changes is the emergence of a market-oriented type of planning practice based on the concept of ‘development planning’. Public-Private Partnerships and the ‘forward integration’ of market parties (De Zeeuw, 2007) enforce the role of market actors. In historical perspective, Boelens et al. (2006) argue that Dutch spatial planning always has been characterized by public-private collaborations in which governments facilitated private and civic entrepreneurship. Therefore, post-war public-led spatial planning with necessary government intervention was a ‘temporary hiccup’, an exception to the rule. Third, the European Commission expresses concerns about the hybrid role of public actors in Dutch institutionalized PPP joint ventures. EU legislation opts for formal public-private role divisions in realizing urban projects based on Anglo-Saxon law that comply with the legislative tendering principles of competition, transparency, equality, and public legitimacy. Fourth, experiences with joint ventures in the Netherlands are less positive as often is advocated. Such institutionalized public-private entities have seldom generated the assumed added value, caused by misconceptions about the objectives of both partners grounded in incompatible value systems. This results in contra-productive levels of distrust, time-consuming partnership formations, lack of transparency, and compromising decision-making processes (Teisman & Klijn, 2002), providing a need for other forms of collaboration. Finally, current financial retrenchments in the public sector and debates about the possible abundance of Dutch active land development policies point towards a lean and mean government that moves away from risk-bearing participation and investment in urban projects and leaves this to the market. Importantly, Van der Krabben (2011b) argues that the Dutch active public land development policies can be considered as an international exception, and advocates for facilitating land development policies. In this light, it becomes highly relevant to study private sector-led urban development as a future Dutch urban development strategy. Integrative urban management approach This research is rooted in the research school of Urban Area Development within the Department of Real Estate and Housing at the Faculty of Architecture (Delft University of Technology). It is a relatively young academic domain which views urban development most profoundly as a complex management assignment (Bruil et al., 2004; Franzen et al., 2011). This academic school uses an integrative perspective with a strong practice-orientation and carries out solution-oriented design research. Here, the integration involves bridging various actor interests, spatial functions, spatial scales, academic domains, knowledge and skills, development goals, and links process with content aspects. Such a perspective does justice to complex societal processes. Therefore it provides a fruitful ground for studying urban development aimed at developing conceptual knowledge and product for science and practice. Such integrative perspective and practice-orientation forms the basis of this research and has been applied in the following manner. In order to create an understanding of the roles of public and private actors in private sector-led urban development, this research takes a management perspective based on an integrative management approach. This involves viewing management more broadly as ‘any type of direct influencing’ urban development projects, and therefore aims at bridging often separated management theories (Osborne, 2000a). Hence, an integrative management approach assists in both understanding urban development practices and projects and constructing useful conceptual tools for practitioners and academics. Integrative approaches attempt to combine a number of different elements into a more holistic management approach (Black & Porter, 2000). Importantly, it does not view the management of projects in isolation but in its entire complexity and dynamics. Therefore, our management approach combines two integrative management theories; the open systems theory (De Leeuw, 2002) and contingency theory. The former provides opportunities to study the management of a project in a structured manner. The latter emphasizes that there is no universally effective way of managing and recognizes the importance of contextual circumstances. Hence, an integrative management approach favors incorporating theories from multiple academic domains such as political science, economics, law, business administration, and organizational and management concepts. Hence, it moves away from the classical academic division between planning theory and property theory, and organization and management theories. It positions itself in between such academic domains, and aims at bridging theoretical viewpoints by following the concept of planning ánd markets (Alexander, 2001) rather than concepts such as ‘planning versus markets’, public versus private sector, and organization versus management. Also, such an integrative view values the complexity and dynamics of empirical urban development practices. More specifically, this research studies urban development projects as object, as urban areas are the focus point of spatial intervention and public-private interaction (Daamen, 2010), and thus collaboration and management. Here, public planning processes and private development processes merge with each other. Thus, our research continues to build upon the importance of studying and reflecting on empirical practices and projects (e.g. Healey, 2006). In addition to these authors, this research does so by using meaningful integrative concepts that reflect empirical realities of urban projects. Thereby, this research serves to bridge management sciences with management practices (Van Aken, 2004; Mintzberg, 2010) through iterative processes of reflecting on science and practice. Moreover, the integrative management approach applied in this research assists in filling an academic gap, namely the lack of management knowledge about public-private interaction in urban development projects. Despite the vast amount of literature on the governance of planning practices (e.g. DiGaetano & Strom, 2003), and Public-Private Partnerships (e.g. Osborne, 2000b), remarkable little knowledge exists about what shifting public-private relationships mean for day-to-day management by public and private actors in development projects. Hence, here we follow the main argument made by public administration scholar Klijn (2008) who claims that it is such direct actor influence that brings about the most significant change to the built environment. An integrative urban management model (see Figure 2.3) based on the open systems approach has been constructed which forms a conceptual representation of empirical private sectorled urban development projects. This model serves as an analytical tool to comprehend the complexity of managing such projects. In this research, several theoretical insights about publicprivate relations and roles are used to understand different contextual and organizational factors that affect the management of private sector-led urban development projects. Hence, a project context exists within different often country-specific institutional environments (e.g. the Netherlands and UK). In this research, contextual aspects that to a degree determine the way public and private actors inter-organize urban projects, consist of economics & politics, governance cultures, and planning systems and policies. Hence, institutional values are deeply rooted in social welfare models (Nadin & Stead, 2008). For instance, the differences between Anglo-Saxon and Rhineland model principles also determine public-private relationships. However, the process of neoliberalization (Hackworth, 2007) and subsequent adaptation of neoliberal political ideologies (Harvey, 2005) has created quite similar governance arrangements in Western countries. Nevertheless, institutional rules incorporated in planning systems, laws and policies often remain country-specific. But, market-oriented planning, involving ‘planners as market actors’ (Adams & Tiesdell, 2010) intervening and operating within market systems, have become the most commonly shared feature of contemporary Western urban development practices (Carmona et al., 2009). In this research, the project organization focuses on institutional aspects and interorganizational arrangements that structure Public-Private Partnerships (Bult-Spiering & Dewulf, 2002). It involves studying organizational tasks and responsibilities, financial risks and revenues, and legal rules and requirements. Inter-organizational arrangements condition the way public and private actors manage projects. Hence, such arrangements can be placed on a public-private spectrum (Börzel & Risse, 2002) which indicates different power relations in terms of public and private autonomy and dominance (Savitch, 1997) in making planning decisions. These public-private power relations are reflected in different Public-Private Partnership arrangements (Bennet et al., 2000) in urban development projects. As a result, in some contexts these partnerships arrangements are formalized into organizational vehicles or legal contracts, in others there is an emphasis on informal partnerships and interaction. The lack of management knowledge on private sector-led urban development projects, and our view of management as any type of direct influencing, results in constructing a conceptual public-private urban management model (see Figure SUM.1). This model is based on both theoretical concepts and empirical reflection. In this research, the management of project processes by public and private actors contains applying both management activities and instruments. Project management (Wijnen et al., 2004) includes development stage-oriented initiating, designing, planning, and operating activities. Process management (Teisman, 2003) includes interaction-oriented negotiating, decision-making, and communicating activities. Management tools consist of legal-oriented shaping, regulating, stimulating, and capacity building planning tools (Adams et al., 2004). And management resources consist of crucial necessities (Burie, 1978) for realizing urban projects like land, capital and knowledge. In essence, all these management measures can be applied by public and private actors to influence (private sector-led) urban development projects. These management measures can be used by actors to reach project effects. In this research, project effects are perceived as judgment criteria for indicating the success of the management of private sector-led urban development projects. They consist of cooperation effectiveness, process efficiency, and spatial quality. Effectiveness involves the degree to which objectives are achieved and problems are resolved. Ef ficiency is the degree to which the process is considered as efficiently realizing projects within time and budget. Finally, spatial quality is the degree to which the project contributes to responding to user, experience and future values of involved actors (Hooijmeijer et al., 2001). Such process and product effects are a crucial addition to understand the results of private sector-led urban development projects. Comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method This research systematically analyzes and compares private sector-led urban development cases in both the Netherlands and the UK in a specific methodological way. In essence, this study is an empirical comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method. Hence, case studies allow for an empirical inquiry that investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real life context (Yin, 2003). Such a qualitative approach is very suited for the purposes of this research as it enables revealing empirical collaborative and managerial mechanisms within private sector-led urban development projects. The reason to include studying the UK lies is the fact that it can be considered as a market-oriented development practice, from which valuable lessons can be drawn for the Netherlands. Thereby, this research places itself in a longer tradition of Dutch interests in UK planning and development (e.g. Hobma et al., 2008). Hence, this research aims at drawing lessons in the form of ‘inspiration’ from practices and projects, as opposed to the more far-reaching transplantation of spatial policies (e.g. Janssen-Jansen et al., 2008). However, in order to draw meaningful empirical lessons there is a need to indicate whether they are context-dependent or -independent. This requires systematically comparing the institutional planning practices of both countries by indicating differences and similarities between the Netherlands and the UK. Based on these methodological principles ten Dutch and two UK of private sector-led urban development cases are selected and studied. The Dutch cases focus on scope over depth aimed at sketching the phenomenon of ‘area concessions’ in both inner-city and urban fringe projects. The UK cases focus on depth over scope aimed at understanding the applicability of a private sector-led approach in complex large-scale inner-city projects. As techniques the case study research uses document reviews, semi-structured interviews, project visits, and data mapping. Comparing Dutch and UK planning and urban development practices The institutional context of urban development in the Netherlands and the UK shows some structural differences, despite the fact that such contexts are often subject to change. For instance, the Dutch planning system uses Napoleonic codified law based on a constitution with abstract law principles as rule, and a limited role of judicial power. The UK planning system is based on British common law lacking a constitution, and uses law-making-as-we-go as judges act as law-makers. In terms of spatial planning, the Netherlands is characterized by binding land use plans within a limited-imperative system based on legal certainty. Dutch spatial planning can be labelled as ‘permitted planning’ based on ‘comprehensive integrative model’ (Dühr et al., 2010) which involves hierarchically coordinated and related public sector spatial plans. UK spatial planning has no binding land use plan, places importance on material considerations based on discretionary authority and flexibility. Historically, UK’s spatial planning can be labelled as ‘development-oriented planning’ based on a ‘land use management model’ with a focus on public sector coordinated planning policies. Moreover, Dutch and UK urban development also differ in terms of public and private roles in organizing and managing development (Heurkens, 2009). In the Netherlands, local governments are active bodies using spatial plans, active land development policies and public investment to develop cities. The private sector often operates reactively and is historically focused on the physical realization of projects. In general, public-private decision-making processes are based on reaching consensus, development project coordination typically involves ‘collaboration models’, and management is focused on process as product outcomes. In the UK, local government uses relatively less regulations and investment to develop cities, thereby facilitating market parties. The development industry is a mature sector, actively initiating and investing in projects. Decision-making is characterized by negotiations, and the organization of projects is often based on a clear formal public-private role division. Despite such a generic Dutch-UK comparison being of crucial importance to this research, it does no justice to increasing similarities between European planning practices. Moreover, such institutional contexts evolve as a result of changing planning priorities in each country. For instance, some basic characteristics of the UK planning system attracted the attention of Dutch planners, including comprehensive principles for project coordination, private sector involvement and negotiations, options for the settlement of ‘planning gain’, packaging interests, development-oriented planning, and discretion for planning decisions (Spaans, 2005). Hence, such more market-oriented planning principles have become valuable and sometimes necessary mechanisms to effectively cope with an increasingly less public-led and more private sector-led Dutch urban development practice. Empirical findings from Dutch private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the Netherlands since the year 2000 witnessed an increased use of the concession model. Hence, this is the Dutch definition for private sector-led urban development. It can best be characterized as a contract form between public and private parties which involves the transfer of risks, revenues, responsibilities for the plan, land and real estate development to private developers based on pre-defined set of public requirements (Gijzen, 2009). In theory (Van Rooy, 2007; Van de Klundert, 2008; Heurkens et al., 2008) this collaboration model holds promising advantages of being a more effective, efficient and transparent strategy to achieve a high quality built environment. Nonetheless, possible disadvantages like the lack of public ‘steering’, dependency of market actors and circumstances, inflexible contracts, a project management orientation, and a stern public-private relationship also are mentioned. Moreover, conditions for the application of concessions in theory involve a manageable project scale and duration, minimal political and societal complexity, and maximum freedom for private actors. Motives for choosing concessions are the lack of public labor capacity and financial development means, risk transfer to private actors, increasing private initiatives and private land ownership. Hence, in theory public and private roles in the concession model are considered as strictly separated. However, there is a lack of structural empirical understanding and evidence for such theoretical assumptions. Therefore, empirical cases in Amsterdam, The Hague, Enschede, Maassluis, Middelburg, Naaldwijk, Rotterdam, Tilburg, Utrecht, and Velsen (see Table 5.1) are carried out. This includes studying private sector-led projects in both inner-city and urban fringe locations. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of these ten Dutch projects are highlighted here. Notice that public-private interaction and collaboration remains of vital importance in Dutch private sector-led urban development projects. Despite the formal contractual separation of public and private tasks and responsibilities, in practice close informal cooperation can be witnessed, especially in the early development stages. Moreover, public actors do not remain as risk free as theory suggests, because unfavorable market circumstances can cause development delays affecting the living environment of inhabitants. Furthermore, it seems that constructing and using flexible public requirements with some non-negotiable rules is an effective condition for realizing public objectives during the process. In terms of management, most projects are hardly considered as solely private sector-led, as they involve a substantial amount of public management influence. For instance, project management activities include a dominant role of municipalities in initiating and operating the development. Process management activities are carried out by both actors, as they involve close public-private interactions. Management tools are mostly used by public actors to shape and regulate development with a limited conscious usage of stimulating and capacity building tools. Using the management resources land, capital and knowledge are mainly a private affair. In terms of effects, the concession model by actors is considered as an effective instrument, but not necessarily results in efficient processes. The general perception of public, private and civic actors about the project’s spatial quality level is positive. In addition, actors were asked about their cooperation experiences. Often mentioned problems include a ‘we against them relationship’, lack of public role consistency, thin line between plan judgment and control, public manager’s commitment and competency, communication with local communities, and lack of public management opportunities. Based on the empirical case studies, most conditions for applying concessions are confirmed. However, the successful inner-city development projects in Amsterdam and Enschede indicate that a private sector-led approach can also be applied to more complex urban development projects within cities. Empirical findings from UK’s private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the UK often is labelled as urban regeneration. Historically, it is strongly shaped by neoliberal political ideology of the Conservative Thatcher government in the 1980s. But it also is influenced by New Labour ideologies favoring the Third Way (Giddens, 1998) aimed at aligning economic, social and environmental policies. However, as a result of these institutional characteristics, the UK is strongly shaped by the understanding that most development is undertaken by private interests or by public bodies acting very much like private interests (Nadin et al., 2008). In general, local authorities depend on initiatives and investments of property developers and investors, because public financial resources and planning powers to actively develop land are limited. As a result, development control of private developments is a concept deeply embedded in development practice. Several legal instruments such as Section 106 agreements are used to establish planning gain by asking developer contributions for public functions. Moreover, urban development in the UK has a strong informal partnership culture, and simultaneously builds upon a strict formal legal public-private role division. These UK urban development practice characteristics provide valid reasons to study private sector-led urban development projects in more detail. The empirical cases of private sector-led urban development projects in the UK are Bristol Harbourside and Liverpool One. They represent mid-2000s strategic inner-city developments with a mixed-use functional program, and therefore possible high complexity. As such, they are relevant urban projects for drawing lessons for the Netherlands. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of the UK projects are discussed here. The case contexts show that politics and the often changeable nature of planning policies can have a major influence on the organization and management of development projects. Hence, strong and effective political leadership is considered as a crucial success factor. Changing policies result in re-establishing development conditions resulting in new publicprivate negotiations. In terms of organization, the cases indeed show that local authorities do not take on development risks. Moreover, revenue sharing with private actors is absent or limited to what the actors agree upon in development packages. Furthermore, local authorities encourage all kinds of partnerships with other public, private or civic stakeholders in order to generate development support and raise funds. In terms of management, local authorities use different management measures to influence projects. The cases indicate that public actors are able to influence private sector-led developments and thereby achieve public planning objectives. Importantly, public actors use all kinds of managing tools to shape and stimulate development; they do not limit themselves to regulation but also build capacity for development. However, the largest share of managing the project takes place on behalf of project developers. Private actors manage projects from initial design towards even public space operation (Liverpool). Thereby, they work with long-term investment business models increasing private commitment. In terms of effects, the cases show that although the projects are carried out effectively and achieve high quality levels, the process efficiency lacks behind due to lengthy negotiations. In conclusion, the actors’ experiences with the private sector-led urban development projects indicate some problems including; the financial dependency on private actors, lack of financial incentives for public actors, lack of awareness of civic demands, lack of controlling public opposition, long negotiation processes, and absence of skilled public managers. Moreover, the actors indicate some crucial conditions for a private sectorled approach including; flexible general public guidelines, informal partnerships and joint working, public and private leadership roles and skills, professional attitude and long term commitment of private actors, involvement of local communities, separating public planning and development roles, handling political pressures, and favorable market circumstances. Empirical lessons, improvements and inspiration Some general conclusions from the Dutch and UK case comparison can be drawn (see Table 8.1). The influence of the project’s context in the UK seems to be higher than in the Netherlands, especially political powers and changeable policies influence projects. The organizational role division in UK projects seems to be stricter than in the Dutch projects, where public requirements sometimes are also formulated in more detail. The actor’s management in the Dutch cases is slightly less private sector-led than in the UK, where local authorities and developers are more aware of how to use management measures at their disposal. The project effects show quite some resemblance; effectiveness and spatial quality can be achieved, while efficiency remains difficult to achieve due to the negotiation culture. Here, important empirical lessons learned from cases in both countries are discussed aimed at formulating possible solutions for perceived Dutch problems. The problematic Dutch ‘we against them relationship’ between actors in the UK is handled by a close collaboration. Developers organize regular informative and interactive design meetings with local authorities, sharing ideas in a ‘joint-up working’ atmosphere. The lack of public role consistency in the UK is resolved by local authorities that develop a clear schedule of spatial requirements which provides certainty. Moreover, room for negotiations allows for the flexibility to react on changed circumstances. The thin line between judgment and control of plans is not commonly recognized in the UK cases. Local authorities tend to respect that developers need room to carry out development activities on their own professional insights, and merely control if developers deliver ‘product specifications’ in time and to agreed conditions. The commitment and competencies of public project managers are also mentioned as crucial factors in the UK. It involves managers connecting the project to the political and civic environment, and leaders committing themselves to project support through communication with local communities. The lack of public management seems to be a Dutch perceived difficulty as UK local authorities do not apply active land development policies and ‘hard’ management resources. Therefore, they influence development with both more consciously applied legal tools and ‘soft’ management skills such as negotiating. Recommended improvements mentioned by Dutch practitioners here are mirrored to possible support from the UK cases. The Dutch recommendation to cooperate in pre-development stages to create public project support and commitment finds support in the UK. Hence, despite a formal division of public and private responsibilities, in practice a lot of informal public-private interaction and collaboration takes place and seems necessary. Striving for public role consistency also is an appreciated value by developers in the UK. Working on the principle of ‘agreement is agreement’ creates certainty for developers, and less resistance and willingness to cooperate once highly relevant public issues are put on the table. Establishing clear process agreements with moments of control or discussion in the UK are handled with evaluation moments aimed at judging output, and planned meetings aimed at creating a dialogue about new insights. Connecting planning and development processes in the UK is handled by a municipal team consisting of political leaders and project managers that align development processes with administrative planning processes. A clear communication plan to involve local communities and businesses in the UK is handled by developers which involve relevant stakeholders in the decision-making process prior to planning applications for support and process efficiency. Finding public opportunities to influence development other than land and capital in the UK is handled through the use of several public planning tools and publicprivate negotiations. The UK cases also provided various inspirational lessons for the Netherlands. First, the construction and application of a public ‘management toolbox’ consisting of various planning tools that shape, stimulate, regulate and activate the market could assist local authorities to view management more integratively and use existing instruments more consciously. Second, choosing a private development partner with professional expertise, track record and local knowledge, instead of an economically lucrative private tender offer for private sector-led urban development projects, has the advantage of creating a cooperative relationship. The reason for this is that flexible development concepts rather than fixed development plans are indicators of a cooperative attitude of a developer. Third, enabling partnership agreements between public, private and civic actors aimed at creating wide support and long-term commitment by expressing development intentions assists pulling together development resources from both investors and central government. Fourth, privately-owned public space based on a land lease agreement containing public space conditions creates several financial advantages. For local authorities it eliminates public maintenance costs, and for private actors the operation of the area and maintaining high quality standards can be beneficial for real estate sales and returns. Fifth, the value increase-oriented investment model of a long-term private development investor rather than a short-term project-oriented developer with a trade-off model between time, costs and quality has advantages. Large amounts of upfront investment can more easily be financed as high quality environments and properties increase the area’s competitive position and investment returns. Sixth, local authorities can establish partnerships that actively apply for public funding alternatives such as lottery funds. Such funds secure the development of public functions and create interest for commercial actors to invest, which can result possibilities to negotiate development packages which can results in a planning gain for public actors. Seventh, public and private leadership styles on different organizational levels for inner-city development projects result in more efficient processes. Appointing strategictactical operating political leaders and private firm directors and tactical-operational public and private project leaders streamlines internal and external communication and shared project commitment and support. Finally, the UK shows that a private sector-led approach can successfully be applied to complex inner-city developments. Despite the complex social and political character, fragmented land ownership situation, and high remediation costs UK developers can deliver such projects succesfully. Conditions seem a professionally skilled and financially empowered developer, and active local authorities that facilitate market initiatives. The likelihood of transfer of the inspirational UK lessons depends on some Dutch institutional characteristics (economics & politics, governance culture, planning system and policies). However, most lessons are context-independent and thus can be applied in the Dutch urban development practice. But, Table 8.2 also shows some institutional context-dependent features that limit the transfer of UK findings to the Netherlands. This includes the general short-term scope of Dutch developers and the general wish from municipalities to hold ‘control’ over development projects. Reflections on safeguarding public interests & alternative financing instruments The epilogue contains conceptual reflections about alternative ways for safeguarding public interests and private financing instruments in line with the current social-economic climate. These reflections are not based on research findings but on an additional literature review that provides food for thought for public and private actors in urban development. Hence, safeguarding public interests is an important concern for public actors, especially in market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban development projects. In our pluralistic society it has become impossible for one actor to determine the public interest in all occasions. In line with societal development it would not only be socially-coherent for governments to engage private and civic actors in safeguarding public interests, but even a social necessity. Consciously applying different public interest safeguarding strategies based on both hierarchical, market and network mechanisms (De Bruijn & Dicke, 2006) provide this opportunity. By using a combination of legitimized hierarchical mechanisms, competitionoriented market mechanisms, and inter-action oriented network mechanisms, public values become institutionalized in private and civic sectors. Then, the role of public planning institutions in safeguarding increasing economic values, social cohesion and public health is to use both legitimate planning tools and accountable planning activities. It enables other actors to become both more responsible for and involved in their own built environment. In market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban projects, safeguarding public interest instruments include non-negotiable general planning standards which secure basic needs of civilians, and negotiable development conditions which create involvement of other actors. Non-negotiable safeguarding instruments include; public tender requirements, land use plans, planning permissions and financial claims. Negotiable safeguarding instruments include; contractual conditions, competitive dialogues, spatial quality plans, developer contributions, development incentives, performance indicators, and ownership (see Figure 10.2). The reliance of private investment in private sector-led urban development projects asks for exploring alternative financing instruments for urban projects with less reliance on credit capital. This is a crucial subject being the result of the effect the current economic situation has on the land and property market. Hence, it is widely acknowledged that in many development practices around the globe property investment for urban development has changed radically as a result of the international credit crisis and economic downturn (Parkinson et al., 2009). ‘New financial models’ have the attention of several Dutch practitioners (e.g. Van Rooy, 2011) and academics (e.g. Van der Krabben, 2011b). In the current Dutch urban development practice, one notices an increased interest in demand-driven development strategies promoting; bottom-up development initiatives, value-oriented investment strategies, and de-risked phasing of development, which potentially increase the feasibility of urban projects. A literature review indicates promising alternative financing instruments for Dutch urban development practice and private sector-led urban development projects, including; Tax Increment Financing, Temporary Development/Investment Grants, Lottery Funds, DBFM/ Concession Light, Crowd Funding, Urban Development Trusts, Business Improvement Districts, and Urban Reparcelling. These instruments have different features such as investment source, development incentives, organizational requirements and object conditions, which need to be taken into account by public and private actors once applied (see Table 10.3).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
32

Heurkens, Erwin. "Private Sector-led Urban Development Projects. Management, Partnerships and Effects in the Netherlands and the UK." Architecture and the Built Environment, 2012. http://dx.doi.org/10.59490/abe.2012.4.169.

Full text
Abstract:
Central to this research lays the concept of private sector-led urban development projects (Heurkens, 2010). Such projects involve project developers taking a leading role and local authorities adopting a facilitating role, in managing the development of an urban area, based on a clear public-private role division. Such a development strategy is quite common in Anglo-Saxon urban development practices, but is less known in Continental European practices. Nonetheless, since the beginning of the millennium such a development strategy also occurred in the Netherlands in the form of ‘concessions’. However, remarkably little empirical knowledge is available about how public and private actors collaborate on and manage private sector-led urban development projects. Moreover, it remains unclear what the effects of such projects are. This dissertation provides an understanding of the various characteristics of private sector-led urban development projects by conducting empirical case study research in the institutional contexts of the Netherlands and the UK. The research provides an answer to the following research question: What can we learn from private sector-led urban development projects in the Netherlands and UK in terms of the collaborative and managerial roles of public and private actors, and the effects of their (inter)actions? Indications for a market-oriented Dutch urban development practice Urban development practice in the Netherlands has been subject to changes pointing towards more private sector involvement in the built environment in the past decades. Although the current economic recession might indicate otherwise, there are several motives that indicate a continuation of private sector involvement and a private leadership role in Dutch urban development projects in the future. First, a shift towards more market-oriented development practice is the result of an evolutionary process of increased ‘neoliberalization’ and the adoption of Anglo-Saxon principles in Dutch society. Despite its Rhineland roots with a focus on welfare provision, in the Netherlands several neoliberal principles (privatization, decentralization, deregulation) have been adopted by government and incorporated in the management of organizations (Bakker et al., 2005). Hence, market institutionalization on the one hand, and rising civic emancipation on the other, in current Western societies prevents a return towards hierarchical governance. Second, the result of such changes is the emergence of a market-oriented type of planning practice based on the concept of ‘development planning’. Public-Private Partnerships and the ‘forward integration’ of market parties (De Zeeuw, 2007) enforce the role of market actors. In historical perspective, Boelens et al. (2006) argue that Dutch spatial planning always has been characterized by public-private collaborations in which governments facilitated private and civic entrepreneurship. Therefore, post-war public-led spatial planning with necessary government intervention was a ‘temporary hiccup’, an exception to the rule. Third, the European Commission expresses concerns about the hybrid role of public actors in Dutch institutionalized PPP joint ventures. EU legislation opts for formal public-private role divisions in realizing urban projects based on Anglo-Saxon law that comply with the legislative tendering principles of competition, transparency, equality, and public legitimacy. Fourth, experiences with joint ventures in the Netherlands are less positive as often is advocated. Such institutionalized public-private entities have seldom generated the assumed added value, caused by misconceptions about the objectives of both partners grounded in incompatible value systems. This results in contra-productive levels of distrust, time-consuming partnership formations, lack of transparency, and compromising decision-making processes (Teisman & Klijn, 2002), providing a need for other forms of collaboration. Finally, current financial retrenchments in the public sector and debates about the possible abundance of Dutch active land development policies point towards a lean and mean government that moves away from risk-bearing participation and investment in urban projects and leaves this to the market. Importantly, Van der Krabben (2011b) argues that the Dutch active public land development policies can be considered as an international exception, and advocates for facilitating land development policies. In this light, it becomes highly relevant to study private sector-led urban development as a future Dutch urban development strategy. Integrative urban management approach This research is rooted in the research school of Urban Area Development within the Department of Real Estate and Housing at the Faculty of Architecture (Delft University of Technology). It is a relatively young academic domain which views urban development most profoundly as a complex management assignment (Bruil et al., 2004; Franzen et al., 2011). This academic school uses an integrative perspective with a strong practice-orientation and carries out solution-oriented design research. Here, the integration involves bridging various actor interests, spatial functions, spatial scales, academic domains, knowledge and skills, development goals, and links process with content aspects. Such a perspective does justice to complex societal processes. Therefore it provides a fruitful ground for studying urban development aimed at developing conceptual knowledge and product for science and practice. Such integrative perspective and practice-orientation forms the basis of this research and has been applied in the following manner. In order to create an understanding of the roles of public and private actors in private sector-led urban development, this research takes a management perspective based on an integrative management approach. This involves viewing management more broadly as ‘any type of direct influencing’ urban development projects, and therefore aims at bridging often separated management theories (Osborne, 2000a). Hence, an integrative management approach assists in both understanding urban development practices and projects and constructing useful conceptual tools for practitioners and academics. Integrative approaches attempt to combine a number of different elements into a more holistic management approach (Black & Porter, 2000). Importantly, it does not view the management of projects in isolation but in its entire complexity and dynamics. Therefore, our management approach combines two integrative management theories; the open systems theory (De Leeuw, 2002) and contingency theory. The former provides opportunities to study the management of a project in a structured manner. The latter emphasizes that there is no universally effective way of managing and recognizes the importance of contextual circumstances. Hence, an integrative management approach favors incorporating theories from multiple academic domains such as political science, economics, law, business administration, and organizational and management concepts. Hence, it moves away from the classical academic division between planning theory and property theory, and organization and management theories. It positions itself in between such academic domains, and aims at bridging theoretical viewpoints by following the concept of planning ánd markets (Alexander, 2001) rather than concepts such as ‘planning versus markets’, public versus private sector, and organization versus management. Also, such an integrative view values the complexity and dynamics of empirical urban development practices. More specifically, this research studies urban development projects as object, as urban areas are the focus point of spatial intervention and public-private interaction (Daamen, 2010), and thus collaboration and management. Here, public planning processes and private development processes merge with each other. Thus, our research continues to build upon the importance of studying and reflecting on empirical practices and projects (e.g. Healey, 2006). In addition to these authors, this research does so by using meaningful integrative concepts that reflect empirical realities of urban projects. Thereby, this research serves to bridge management sciences with management practices (Van Aken, 2004; Mintzberg, 2010) through iterative processes of reflecting on science and practice. Moreover, the integrative management approach applied in this research assists in filling an academic gap, namely the lack of management knowledge about public-private interaction in urban development projects. Despite the vast amount of literature on the governance of planning practices (e.g. DiGaetano & Strom, 2003), and Public-Private Partnerships (e.g. Osborne, 2000b), remarkable little knowledge exists about what shifting public-private relationships mean for day-to-day management by public and private actors in development projects. Hence, here we follow the main argument made by public administration scholar Klijn (2008) who claims that it is such direct actor influence that brings about the most significant change to the built environment. An integrative urban management model (see Figure 2.3) based on the open systems approach has been constructed which forms a conceptual representation of empirical private sectorled urban development projects. This model serves as an analytical tool to comprehend the complexity of managing such projects. In this research, several theoretical insights about publicprivate relations and roles are used to understand different contextual and organizational factors that affect the management of private sector-led urban development projects. Hence, a project context exists within different often country-specific institutional environments (e.g. the Netherlands and UK). In this research, contextual aspects that to a degree determine the way public and private actors inter-organize urban projects, consist of economics & politics, governance cultures, and planning systems and policies. Hence, institutional values are deeply rooted in social welfare models (Nadin & Stead, 2008). For instance, the differences between Anglo-Saxon and Rhineland model principles also determine public-private relationships. However, the process of neoliberalization (Hackworth, 2007) and subsequent adaptation of neoliberal political ideologies (Harvey, 2005) has created quite similar governance arrangements in Western countries. Nevertheless, institutional rules incorporated in planning systems, laws and policies often remain country-specific. But, market-oriented planning, involving ‘planners as market actors’ (Adams & Tiesdell, 2010) intervening and operating within market systems, have become the most commonly shared feature of contemporary Western urban development practices (Carmona et al., 2009). In this research, the project organization focuses on institutional aspects and interorganizational arrangements that structure Public-Private Partnerships (Bult-Spiering & Dewulf, 2002). It involves studying organizational tasks and responsibilities, financial risks and revenues, and legal rules and requirements. Inter-organizational arrangements condition the way public and private actors manage projects. Hence, such arrangements can be placed on a public-private spectrum (Börzel & Risse, 2002) which indicates different power relations in terms of public and private autonomy and dominance (Savitch, 1997) in making planning decisions. These public-private power relations are reflected in different Public-Private Partnership arrangements (Bennet et al., 2000) in urban development projects. As a result, in some contexts these partnerships arrangements are formalized into organizational vehicles or legal contracts, in others there is an emphasis on informal partnerships and interaction. The lack of management knowledge on private sector-led urban development projects, and our view of management as any type of direct influencing, results in constructing a conceptual public-private urban management model (see Figure SUM.1). This model is based on both theoretical concepts and empirical reflection. In this research, the management of project processes by public and private actors contains applying both management activities and instruments. Project management (Wijnen et al., 2004) includes development stage-oriented initiating, designing, planning, and operating activities. Process management (Teisman, 2003) includes interaction-oriented negotiating, decision-making, and communicating activities. Management tools consist of legal-oriented shaping, regulating, stimulating, and capacity building planning tools (Adams et al., 2004). And management resources consist of crucial necessities (Burie, 1978) for realizing urban projects like land, capital and knowledge. In essence, all these management measures can be applied by public and private actors to influence (private sector-led) urban development projects. These management measures can be used by actors to reach project effects. In this research, project effects are perceived as judgment criteria for indicating the success of the management of private sector-led urban development projects. They consist of cooperation effectiveness, process efficiency, and spatial quality. Effectiveness involves the degree to which objectives are achieved and problems are resolved. Ef ficiency is the degree to which the process is considered as efficiently realizing projects within time and budget. Finally, spatial quality is the degree to which the project contributes to responding to user, experience and future values of involved actors (Hooijmeijer et al., 2001). Such process and product effects are a crucial addition to understand the results of private sector-led urban development projects. Comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method This research systematically analyzes and compares private sector-led urban development cases in both the Netherlands and the UK in a specific methodological way. In essence, this study is an empirical comparative case study research using a lesson-drawing method. Hence, case studies allow for an empirical inquiry that investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real life context (Yin, 2003). Such a qualitative approach is very suited for the purposes of this research as it enables revealing empirical collaborative and managerial mechanisms within private sector-led urban development projects. The reason to include studying the UK lies is the fact that it can be considered as a market-oriented development practice, from which valuable lessons can be drawn for the Netherlands. Thereby, this research places itself in a longer tradition of Dutch interests in UK planning and development (e.g. Hobma et al., 2008). Hence, this research aims at drawing lessons in the form of ‘inspiration’ from practices and projects, as opposed to the more far-reaching transplantation of spatial policies (e.g. Janssen-Jansen et al., 2008). However, in order to draw meaningful empirical lessons there is a need to indicate whether they are context-dependent or -independent. This requires systematically comparing the institutional planning practices of both countries by indicating differences and similarities between the Netherlands and the UK. Based on these methodological principles ten Dutch and two UK of private sector-led urban development cases are selected and studied. The Dutch cases focus on scope over depth aimed at sketching the phenomenon of ‘area concessions’ in both inner-city and urban fringe projects. The UK cases focus on depth over scope aimed at understanding the applicability of a private sector-led approach in complex large-scale inner-city projects. As techniques the case study research uses document reviews, semi-structured interviews, project visits, and data mapping. Comparing Dutch and UK planning and urban development practices The institutional context of urban development in the Netherlands and the UK shows some structural differences, despite the fact that such contexts are often subject to change. For instance, the Dutch planning system uses Napoleonic codified law based on a constitution with abstract law principles as rule, and a limited role of judicial power. The UK planning system is based on British common law lacking a constitution, and uses law-making-as-we-go as judges act as law-makers. In terms of spatial planning, the Netherlands is characterized by binding land use plans within a limited-imperative system based on legal certainty. Dutch spatial planning can be labelled as ‘permitted planning’ based on ‘comprehensive integrative model’ (Dühr et al., 2010) which involves hierarchically coordinated and related public sector spatial plans. UK spatial planning has no binding land use plan, places importance on material considerations based on discretionary authority and flexibility. Historically, UK’s spatial planning can be labelled as ‘development-oriented planning’ based on a ‘land use management model’ with a focus on public sector coordinated planning policies. Moreover, Dutch and UK urban development also differ in terms of public and private roles in organizing and managing development (Heurkens, 2009). In the Netherlands, local governments are active bodies using spatial plans, active land development policies and public investment to develop cities. The private sector often operates reactively and is historically focused on the physical realization of projects. In general, public-private decision-making processes are based on reaching consensus, development project coordination typically involves ‘collaboration models’, and management is focused on process as product outcomes. In the UK, local government uses relatively less regulations and investment to develop cities, thereby facilitating market parties. The development industry is a mature sector, actively initiating and investing in projects. Decision-making is characterized by negotiations, and the organization of projects is often based on a clear formal public-private role division. Despite such a generic Dutch-UK comparison being of crucial importance to this research, it does no justice to increasing similarities between European planning practices. Moreover, such institutional contexts evolve as a result of changing planning priorities in each country. For instance, some basic characteristics of the UK planning system attracted the attention of Dutch planners, including comprehensive principles for project coordination, private sector involvement and negotiations, options for the settlement of ‘planning gain’, packaging interests, development-oriented planning, and discretion for planning decisions (Spaans, 2005). Hence, such more market-oriented planning principles have become valuable and sometimes necessary mechanisms to effectively cope with an increasingly less public-led and more private sector-led Dutch urban development practice. Empirical findings from Dutch private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the Netherlands since the year 2000 witnessed an increased use of the concession model. Hence, this is the Dutch definition for private sector-led urban development. It can best be characterized as a contract form between public and private parties which involves the transfer of risks, revenues, responsibilities for the plan, land and real estate development to private developers based on pre-defined set of public requirements (Gijzen, 2009). In theory (Van Rooy, 2007; Van de Klundert, 2008; Heurkens et al., 2008) this collaboration model holds promising advantages of being a more effective, efficient and transparent strategy to achieve a high quality built environment. Nonetheless, possible disadvantages like the lack of public ‘steering’, dependency of market actors and circumstances, inflexible contracts, a project management orientation, and a stern public-private relationship also are mentioned. Moreover, conditions for the application of concessions in theory involve a manageable project scale and duration, minimal political and societal complexity, and maximum freedom for private actors. Motives for choosing concessions are the lack of public labor capacity and financial development means, risk transfer to private actors, increasing private initiatives and private land ownership. Hence, in theory public and private roles in the concession model are considered as strictly separated. However, there is a lack of structural empirical understanding and evidence for such theoretical assumptions. Therefore, empirical cases in Amsterdam, The Hague, Enschede, Maassluis, Middelburg, Naaldwijk, Rotterdam, Tilburg, Utrecht, and Velsen (see Table 5.1) are carried out. This includes studying private sector-led projects in both inner-city and urban fringe locations. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of these ten Dutch projects are highlighted here. Notice that public-private interaction and collaboration remains of vital importance in Dutch private sector-led urban development projects. Despite the formal contractual separation of public and private tasks and responsibilities, in practice close informal cooperation can be witnessed, especially in the early development stages. Moreover, public actors do not remain as risk free as theory suggests, because unfavorable market circumstances can cause development delays affecting the living environment of inhabitants. Furthermore, it seems that constructing and using flexible public requirements with some non-negotiable rules is an effective condition for realizing public objectives during the process. In terms of management, most projects are hardly considered as solely private sector-led, as they involve a substantial amount of public management influence. For instance, project management activities include a dominant role of municipalities in initiating and operating the development. Process management activities are carried out by both actors, as they involve close public-private interactions. Management tools are mostly used by public actors to shape and regulate development with a limited conscious usage of stimulating and capacity building tools. Using the management resources land, capital and knowledge are mainly a private affair. In terms of effects, the concession model by actors is considered as an effective instrument, but not necessarily results in efficient processes. The general perception of public, private and civic actors about the project’s spatial quality level is positive. In addition, actors were asked about their cooperation experiences. Often mentioned problems include a ‘we against them relationship’, lack of public role consistency, thin line between plan judgment and control, public manager’s commitment and competency, communication with local communities, and lack of public management opportunities. Based on the empirical case studies, most conditions for applying concessions are confirmed. However, the successful inner-city development projects in Amsterdam and Enschede indicate that a private sector-led approach can also be applied to more complex urban development projects within cities. Empirical findings from UK’s private sector-led urban development cases Urban development practice in the UK often is labelled as urban regeneration. Historically, it is strongly shaped by neoliberal political ideology of the Conservative Thatcher government in the 1980s. But it also is influenced by New Labour ideologies favoring the Third Way (Giddens, 1998) aimed at aligning economic, social and environmental policies. However, as a result of these institutional characteristics, the UK is strongly shaped by the understanding that most development is undertaken by private interests or by public bodies acting very much like private interests (Nadin et al., 2008). In general, local authorities depend on initiatives and investments of property developers and investors, because public financial resources and planning powers to actively develop land are limited. As a result, development control of private developments is a concept deeply embedded in development practice. Several legal instruments such as Section 106 agreements are used to establish planning gain by asking developer contributions for public functions. Moreover, urban development in the UK has a strong informal partnership culture, and simultaneously builds upon a strict formal legal public-private role division. These UK urban development practice characteristics provide valid reasons to study private sector-led urban development projects in more detail. The empirical cases of private sector-led urban development projects in the UK are Bristol Harbourside and Liverpool One. They represent mid-2000s strategic inner-city developments with a mixed-use functional program, and therefore possible high complexity. As such, they are relevant urban projects for drawing lessons for the Netherlands. The main conclusions based on cross-case study findings of the UK projects are discussed here. The case contexts show that politics and the often changeable nature of planning policies can have a major influence on the organization and management of development projects. Hence, strong and effective political leadership is considered as a crucial success factor. Changing policies result in re-establishing development conditions resulting in new publicprivate negotiations. In terms of organization, the cases indeed show that local authorities do not take on development risks. Moreover, revenue sharing with private actors is absent or limited to what the actors agree upon in development packages. Furthermore, local authorities encourage all kinds of partnerships with other public, private or civic stakeholders in order to generate development support and raise funds. In terms of management, local authorities use different management measures to influence projects. The cases indicate that public actors are able to influence private sector-led developments and thereby achieve public planning objectives. Importantly, public actors use all kinds of managing tools to shape and stimulate development; they do not limit themselves to regulation but also build capacity for development. However, the largest share of managing the project takes place on behalf of project developers. Private actors manage projects from initial design towards even public space operation (Liverpool). Thereby, they work with long-term investment business models increasing private commitment. In terms of effects, the cases show that although the projects are carried out effectively and achieve high quality levels, the process efficiency lacks behind due to lengthy negotiations. In conclusion, the actors’ experiences with the private sector-led urban development projects indicate some problems including; the financial dependency on private actors, lack of financial incentives for public actors, lack of awareness of civic demands, lack of controlling public opposition, long negotiation processes, and absence of skilled public managers. Moreover, the actors indicate some crucial conditions for a private sectorled approach including; flexible general public guidelines, informal partnerships and joint working, public and private leadership roles and skills, professional attitude and long term commitment of private actors, involvement of local communities, separating public planning and development roles, handling political pressures, and favorable market circumstances. Empirical lessons, improvements and inspiration Some general conclusions from the Dutch and UK case comparison can be drawn (see Table 8.1). The influence of the project’s context in the UK seems to be higher than in the Netherlands, especially political powers and changeable policies influence projects. The organizational role division in UK projects seems to be stricter than in the Dutch projects, where public requirements sometimes are also formulated in more detail. The actor’s management in the Dutch cases is slightly less private sector-led than in the UK, where local authorities and developers are more aware of how to use management measures at their disposal. The project effects show quite some resemblance; effectiveness and spatial quality can be achieved, while efficiency remains difficult to achieve due to the negotiation culture. Here, important empirical lessons learned from cases in both countries are discussed aimed at formulating possible solutions for perceived Dutch problems. The problematic Dutch ‘we against them relationship’ between actors in the UK is handled by a close collaboration. Developers organize regular informative and interactive design meetings with local authorities, sharing ideas in a ‘joint-up working’ atmosphere. The lack of public role consistency in the UK is resolved by local authorities that develop a clear schedule of spatial requirements which provides certainty. Moreover, room for negotiations allows for the flexibility to react on changed circumstances. The thin line between judgment and control of plans is not commonly recognized in the UK cases. Local authorities tend to respect that developers need room to carry out development activities on their own professional insights, and merely control if developers deliver ‘product specifications’ in time and to agreed conditions. The commitment and competencies of public project managers are also mentioned as crucial factors in the UK. It involves managers connecting the project to the political and civic environment, and leaders committing themselves to project support through communication with local communities. The lack of public management seems to be a Dutch perceived difficulty as UK local authorities do not apply active land development policies and ‘hard’ management resources. Therefore, they influence development with both more consciously applied legal tools and ‘soft’ management skills such as negotiating. Recommended improvements mentioned by Dutch practitioners here are mirrored to possible support from the UK cases. The Dutch recommendation to cooperate in pre-development stages to create public project support and commitment finds support in the UK. Hence, despite a formal division of public and private responsibilities, in practice a lot of informal public-private interaction and collaboration takes place and seems necessary. Striving for public role consistency also is an appreciated value by developers in the UK. Working on the principle of ‘agreement is agreement’ creates certainty for developers, and less resistance and willingness to cooperate once highly relevant public issues are put on the table. Establishing clear process agreements with moments of control or discussion in the UK are handled with evaluation moments aimed at judging output, and planned meetings aimed at creating a dialogue about new insights. Connecting planning and development processes in the UK is handled by a municipal team consisting of political leaders and project managers that align development processes with administrative planning processes. A clear communication plan to involve local communities and businesses in the UK is handled by developers which involve relevant stakeholders in the decision-making process prior to planning applications for support and process efficiency. Finding public opportunities to influence development other than land and capital in the UK is handled through the use of several public planning tools and publicprivate negotiations. The UK cases also provided various inspirational lessons for the Netherlands. First, the construction and application of a public ‘management toolbox’ consisting of various planning tools that shape, stimulate, regulate and activate the market could assist local authorities to view management more integratively and use existing instruments more consciously. Second, choosing a private development partner with professional expertise, track record and local knowledge, instead of an economically lucrative private tender offer for private sector-led urban development projects, has the advantage of creating a cooperative relationship. The reason for this is that flexible development concepts rather than fixed development plans are indicators of a cooperative attitude of a developer. Third, enabling partnership agreements between public, private and civic actors aimed at creating wide support and long-term commitment by expressing development intentions assists pulling together development resources from both investors and central government. Fourth, privately-owned public space based on a land lease agreement containing public space conditions creates several financial advantages. For local authorities it eliminates public maintenance costs, and for private actors the operation of the area and maintaining high quality standards can be beneficial for real estate sales and returns. Fifth, the value increase-oriented investment model of a long-term private development investor rather than a short-term project-oriented developer with a trade-off model between time, costs and quality has advantages. Large amounts of upfront investment can more easily be financed as high quality environments and properties increase the area’s competitive position and investment returns. Sixth, local authorities can establish partnerships that actively apply for public funding alternatives such as lottery funds. Such funds secure the development of public functions and create interest for commercial actors to invest, which can result possibilities to negotiate development packages which can results in a planning gain for public actors. Seventh, public and private leadership styles on different organizational levels for inner-city development projects result in more efficient processes. Appointing strategictactical operating political leaders and private firm directors and tactical-operational public and private project leaders streamlines internal and external communication and shared project commitment and support. Finally, the UK shows that a private sector-led approach can successfully be applied to complex inner-city developments. Despite the complex social and political character, fragmented land ownership situation, and high remediation costs UK developers can deliver such projects succesfully. Conditions seem a professionally skilled and financially empowered developer, and active local authorities that facilitate market initiatives. The likelihood of transfer of the inspirational UK lessons depends on some Dutch institutional characteristics (economics & politics, governance culture, planning system and policies). However, most lessons are context-independent and thus can be applied in the Dutch urban development practice. But, Table 8.2 also shows some institutional context-dependent features that limit the transfer of UK findings to the Netherlands. This includes the general short-term scope of Dutch developers and the general wish from municipalities to hold ‘control’ over development projects. Reflections on safeguarding public interests & alternative financing instruments The epilogue contains conceptual reflections about alternative ways for safeguarding public interests and private financing instruments in line with the current social-economic climate. These reflections are not based on research findings but on an additional literature review that provides food for thought for public and private actors in urban development. Hence, safeguarding public interests is an important concern for public actors, especially in market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban development projects. In our pluralistic society it has become impossible for one actor to determine the public interest in all occasions. In line with societal development it would not only be socially-coherent for governments to engage private and civic actors in safeguarding public interests, but even a social necessity. Consciously applying different public interest safeguarding strategies based on both hierarchical, market and network mechanisms (De Bruijn & Dicke, 2006) provide this opportunity. By using a combination of legitimized hierarchical mechanisms, competitionoriented market mechanisms, and inter-action oriented network mechanisms, public values become institutionalized in private and civic sectors. Then, the role of public planning institutions in safeguarding increasing economic values, social cohesion and public health is to use both legitimate planning tools and accountable planning activities. It enables other actors to become both more responsible for and involved in their own built environment. In market-oriented planning and private sector-led urban projects, safeguarding public interest instruments include non-negotiable general planning standards which secure basic needs of civilians, and negotiable development conditions which create involvement of other actors. Non-negotiable safeguarding instruments include; public tender requirements, land use plans, planning permissions and financial claims. Negotiable safeguarding instruments include; contractual conditions, competitive dialogues, spatial quality plans, developer contributions, development incentives, performance indicators, and ownership (see Figure 10.2). The reliance of private investment in private sector-led urban development projects asks for exploring alternative financing instruments for urban projects with less reliance on credit capital. This is a crucial subject being the result of the effect the current economic situation has on the land and property market. Hence, it is widely acknowledged that in many development practices around the globe property investment for urban development has changed radically as a result of the international credit crisis and economic downturn (Parkinson et al., 2009). ‘New financial models’ have the attention of several Dutch practitioners (e.g. Van Rooy, 2011) and academics (e.g. Van der Krabben, 2011b). In the current Dutch urban development practice, one notices an increased interest in demand-driven development strategies promoting; bottom-up development initiatives, value-oriented investment strategies, and de-risked phasing of development, which potentially increase the feasibility of urban projects. A literature review indicates promising alternative financing instruments for Dutch urban development practice and private sector-led urban development projects, including; Tax Increment Financing, Temporary Development/Investment Grants, Lottery Funds, DBFM/ Concession Light, Crowd Funding, Urban Development Trusts, Business Improvement Districts, and Urban Reparcelling. These instruments have different features such as investment source, development incentives, organizational requirements and object conditions, which need to be taken into account by public and private actors once applied (see Table 10.3).
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
33

Roney, Lisa. "The Extreme Connection Between Bodies and Houses." M/C Journal 10, no. 4 (2007). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.2684.

Full text
Abstract:

 
 
 Perhaps nothing in media culture today makes clearer the connection between people’s bodies and their homes than the Emmy-winning reality TV program Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Home Edition is a spin-off from the original Extreme Makeover, and that fact provides in fundamental form the strong connection that the show demonstrates between bodies and houses. The first EM, initially popular for its focus on cosmetic surgery, laser skin and hair treatments, dental work, cosmetics and wardrobe for mainly middle-aged and self-described unattractive participants, lagged after two full seasons and was finally cancelled entirely, whereas EMHE has continued to accrue viewers and sponsors, as well as accolades (Paulsen, Poniewozik, EMHE Website, Wilhelm). That viewers and the ABC network shifted their attention to the reconstruction of houses over the original version’s direct intervention in problematic bodies indicates that sites of personal transformation are not necessarily within our own physical or emotional beings, but in the larger surround of our environments and in our cultural ideals of home and body. One effect of this shift in the Extreme Makeover format is that a seemingly wider range of narrative problems can be solved relating to houses than to the particular bodies featured on the original show. Although Extreme Makeover featured a few people who’d had previously botched cleft palate surgeries or mastectomies, as Cressida Heyes points out, “the only kind of disability that interests the show is one that can be corrected to conform to able-bodied norms” (22). Most of the recipients were simply middle-aged folks who were ordinary or aged in appearance; many of them seemed self-obsessed and vain, and their children often seemed disturbed by the transformation (Heyes 24). However, children are happy to have a brand new TV and a toy-filled room decorated like their latest fantasy, and they thereby can be drawn into the process of identity transformation in the Home Edition version; in fact, children are required of virtually all recipients of the show’s largess. Because EMHE can do “major surgery” or simply bulldoze an old structure and start with a new building, it is also able to incorporate more variety in its stories—floods, fires, hurricanes, propane explosions, war, crime, immigration, car accidents, unscrupulous contractors, insurance problems, terrorist attacks—the list of traumas is seemingly endless. Home Edition can solve any problem, small or large. Houses are much easier things to repair or reconstruct than bodies. Perhaps partly for this reason, EMHE uses disability as one of its major tropes. Until Season 4, Episode 22, 46.9 percent of the episodes have had some content related to disability or illness of a disabling sort, and this number rises to 76.4 percent if the count includes families that have been traumatised by the (usually recent) death of a family member in childhood or the prime of life by illness, accident or violence. Considering that the percentage of people living with disabilities in the U.S. is defined at 18.1 percent (Steinmetz), EMHE obviously favours them considerably in the selection process. Even the disproportionate numbers of people with disabilities living in poverty and who therefore might be more likely to need help—20.9 percent as opposed to 7.7 percent of the able-bodied population (Steinmetz)—does not fully explain their dominance on the program. In fact, the program seeks out people with new and different physical disabilities and illnesses, sending out emails to local news stations looking for “Extraordinary Mom / Dad recently diagnosed with ALS,” “Family who has a child with PROGERIA (aka ‘little old man’s disease’)” and other particular situations (Simonian). A total of sixty-five ill or disabled people have been featured on the show over the past four years, and, even if one considers its methods maudlin or exploitive, the presence of that much disability and illness is very unusual for reality TV and for TV in general. What the show purports to do is to radically transform multiple aspects of individuals’ lives—and especially lives marred by what are perceived as physical setbacks—via the provision of a luxurious new house, albeit sometimes with the addition of automobiles, mortgage payments or college scholarships. In some ways the assumptions underpinning EMHE fit with a social constructionist body theory that posits an almost infinitely flexible physical matter, of which the definitions and capabilities are largely determined by social concepts and institutions. The social model within the disability studies field has used this theoretical perspective to emphasise the distinction between an impairment, “the physical fact of lacking an arm or a leg,” and disability, “the social process that turns an impairment into a negative by creating barriers to access” (Davis, Bending 12). Accessible housing has certainly been one emphasis of disability rights activists, and many of them have focused on how “design conceptions, in relation to floor plans and allocation of functions to specific spaces, do not conceive of impairment, disease and illness as part of domestic habitation or being” (Imrie 91). In this regard, EMHE appears as a paragon. In one of its most challenging and dramatic Season 1 episodes, the “Design Team” worked on the home of the Ziteks, whose twenty-two-year-old son had been restricted to a sub-floor of the three-level structure since a car accident had paralyzed him. The show refitted the house with an elevator, roll-in bathroom and shower, and wheelchair-accessible doors. Robert Zitek was also provided with sophisticated computer equipment that would help him produce music, a life-long interest that had been halted by his upper-vertebra paralysis. Such examples abound in the new EMHE houses, which have been constructed for families featuring situations such as both blind and deaf members, a child prone to bone breaks due to osteogenesis imperfecta, legs lost in Iraq warfare, allergies that make mold life-threatening, sun sensitivity due to melanoma or polymorphic light eruption or migraines, fragile immune systems (often due to organ transplants or chemotherapy), cerebral palsy, multiple sclerosis, Krabbe disease and autism. EMHE tries to set these lives right via the latest in technology and treatment—computer communication software and hardware, lock systems, wheelchair-friendly design, ventilation and air purification set-ups, the latest in care and mental health approaches for various disabilities and occasional consultations with disabled celebrities like Marlee Matlin. Even when individuals or familes are “[d]iscriminated against on a daily basis by ignorance and physical challenges,” as the program website notes, they “deserve to have a home that doesn’t discriminate against them” (EMHE website, Season 3, Episode 4). The relief that they will be able to inhabit accessible and pleasant environments is evident on the faces of many of these recipients. That physical ease, that ability to move and perform the intimate acts of domestic life, seems according to the show’s narrative to be the most basic element of home. Nonetheless, as Robert Imrie has pointed out, superficial accessibility may still veil “a static, singular conception of the body” (201) that prevents broader change in attitudes about people with disabilities, their activities and their spaces. Starting with the story of the child singing in an attempt at self-comforting from Deleuze and Guattari’s A Thousand Plateaus, J. MacGregor Wise defines home as a process of territorialisation through specific behaviours. “The markers of home … are not simply inanimate objects (a place with stuff),” he notes, “but the presence, habits, and effects of spouses, children, parents, and companions” (299). While Ty Pennington, EMHE’s boisterous host, implies changes for these families along the lines of access to higher education, creative possibilities provided by musical instruments and disability-appropriate art materials, help with home businesses in the way of equipment and licenses and so on, the families’ identity-producing habits are just as likely to be significantly changed by the structural and decorative arrangements made for them by the Design Team. The homes that are created for these families are highly conventional in their structure, layout, decoration, and expectations of use. More specifically, certain behavioural patterns are encouraged and others discouraged by the Design Team’s assumptions. Several themes run through the show’s episodes: Large dining rooms provide for the most common of Pennington’s comments: “You can finally sit down and eat meals together as a family.” A nostalgic value in an era where most families have schedules full of conflicts that prevent such Ozzie-and-Harriet scenarios, it nonetheless predominates. Large kitchens allow for cooking and eating at home, though featured food is usually frozen and instant. In addition, kitchens are not designed for the families’ disabled members; for wheelchair users, for instance, counters need to be lower than usual with open space underneath, so that a wheelchair can roll underneath the counter. Thus, all the wheelchair inhabitants depicted will still be dependent on family members, primarily mothers, to prepare food and clean up after them. (See Imrie, 95-96, for examples of adapted kitchens.) Pets, perhaps because they are inherently “dirty,” are downplayed or absent, even when the family has them when EMHE arrives (except one family that is featured for their animal rescue efforts); interestingly, there are no service dogs, which might obviate the need for some of the high-tech solutions for the disabled offered by the show. The previous example is one element of an emphasis on clutter-free cleanliness and tastefulness combined with a rampant consumerism. While “cultural” elements may be salvaged from exotic immigrant families, most of the houses are very similar and assume a certain kind of commodified style based on new furniture (not humble family hand-me-downs), appliances, toys and expensive, prefab yard gear. Sears is a sponsor of the program, and shopping trips for furniture and appliances form a regular part of the program. Most or all of the houses have large garages, and the families are often given large vehicles by Ford, maintaining a positive take on a reliance on private transportation and gas-guzzling vehicles, but rarely handicap-adapted vans. Living spaces are open, with high ceilings and arches rather than doorways, so that family members will have visual and aural contact. Bedrooms are by contrast presented as private domains of retreat, especially for parents who have demanding (often ill or disabled) children, from which they are considered to need an occasional break. All living and bedrooms are dominated by TVs and other electronica, sometimes presented as an aid to the disabled, but also dominating to the point of excluding other ways of being and interacting. As already mentioned, childless couples and elderly people without children are completely absent. Friends buying houses together and gay couples are also not represented. The ideal of the heterosexual nuclear family is thus perpetuated, even though some of the show’s craftspeople are gay. Likewise, even though “independence” is mentioned frequently in the context of families with disabled members, there are no recipients who are disabled adults living on their own without family caretakers. “Independence” is spoken of mostly in terms of bathing, dressing, using the bathroom and other bodily aspects of life, not in terms of work, friendship, community or self-concept. Perhaps most salient, the EMHE houses are usually created as though nothing about the family will ever again change. While a few of the projects have featured terminally ill parents seeking to leave their children secure after their death, for the most part the families are considered oddly in stasis. Single mothers will stay single mothers, even children with conditions with severe prognoses will continue to live, the five-year-old will sleep forever in a fire-truck bed or dollhouse room, the occasional grandparent installed in his or her own suite will never pass away, and teenagers and young adults (especially the disabled) will never grow up, marry, discover their homosexuality, have a falling out with their parents or leave home. A kind of timeless nostalgia, hearkening back to Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space, pervades the show. Like the body-modifying Extreme Makeover, the Home Edition version is haunted by the issue of normalisation. The word ‘normal’, in fact, floats through the program’s dialogue frequently, and it is made clear that the goal of the show is to restore, as much as possible, a somewhat glamourised, but status quo existence. The website, in describing the work of one deserving couple notes that “Camp Barnabas is a non-profit organisation that caters to the needs of critically and chronically ill children and gives them the opportunity to be ‘normal’ for one week” (EMHE website, Season 3, Episode 7). Someone at the network is sophisticated enough to put ‘normal’ in quotation marks, and the show demonstrates a relatively inclusive concept of ‘normal’, but the word dominates the show itself, and the concept remains largely unquestioned (See Canguilhem; Davis, Enforcing Normalcy; and Snyder and Mitchell, Narrative, for critiques of the process of normalization in regard to disability). In EMHE there is no sense that disability or illness ever produces anything positive, even though the show also notes repeatedly the inspirational attitudes that people have developed through their disability and illness experiences. Similarly, there is no sense that a little messiness can be creatively productive or even necessary. Wise makes a distinction between “home and the home, home and house, home and domus,” the latter of each pair being normative concepts, whereas the former “is a space of comfort (a never-ending process)” antithetical to oppressive norms, such as the association of the home with the enforced domesticity of women. In cases where the house or domus becomes a place of violence and discomfort, home becomes the process of coping with or resisting the negative aspects of the place (300). Certainly the disabled have experienced this in inaccessible homes, but they may also come to experience a different version in a new EMHE house. For, as Wise puts it, “home can also mean a process of rationalization or submission, a break with the reality of the situation, self-delusion, or falling under the delusion of others” (300). The show’s assumption that the construction of these new houses will to a great extent solve these families’ problems (and that disability itself is the problem, not the failure of our culture to accommodate its many forms) may in fact be a delusional spell under which the recipient families fall. In fact, the show demonstrates a triumphalist narrative prevalent today, in which individual happenstance and extreme circumstances are given responsibility for social ills. In this regard, EMHE acts out an ancient morality play, where the recipients of the show’s largesse are assessed and judged based on what they “deserve,” and the opening of each show, when the Design Team reviews the application video tape of the family, strongly emphasises what good people these are (they work with charities, they love each other, they help out their neighbours) and how their situation is caused by natural disaster, act of God or undeserved tragedy, not their own bad behaviour. Disabilities are viewed as terrible tragedies that befall the young and innocent—there is no lung cancer or emphysema from a former smoking habit, and the recipients paralyzed by gunshots have received them in drive-by shootings or in the line of duty as police officers and soldiers. In addition, one of the functions of large families is that the children veil any selfish motivation the adults may have—they are always seeking the show’s assistance on behalf of the children, not themselves. While the Design Team always notes that there are “so many other deserving people out there,” the implication is that some people’s poverty and need may be their own fault. (See Snyder and Mitchell, Locations 41-67; Blunt and Dowling 116-25; and Holliday.) In addition, the structure of the show—with the opening view of the family’s undeserved problems, their joyous greeting at the arrival of the Team, their departure for the first vacation they may ever have had and then the final exuberance when they return to the new house—creates a sense of complete, almost religious salvation. Such narratives fail to point out social support systems that fail large numbers of people who live in poverty and who struggle with issues of accessibility in terms of not only domestic spaces, but public buildings, educational opportunities and social acceptance. In this way, it echoes elements of the medical model, long criticised in disability studies, where each and every disabled body is conceptualised as a site of individual aberration in need of correction, not as something disabled by an ableist society. In fact, “the house does not shelter us from cosmic forces; at most it filters and selects them” (Deleuze and Guattari, What Is Philosophy?, qtd. in Frichot 61), and those outside forces will still apply to all these families. The normative assumptions inherent in the houses may also become oppressive in spite of their being accessible in a technical sense (a thing necessary but perhaps not sufficient for a sense of home). As Tobin Siebers points out, “[t]he debate in architecture has so far focused more on the fundamental problem of whether buildings and landscapes should be universally accessible than on the aesthetic symbolism by which the built environment mirrors its potential inhabitants” (“Culture” 183). Siebers argues that the Jamesonian “political unconscious” is a “social imaginary” based on a concept of perfection (186) that “enforces a mutual identification between forms of appearance, whether organic, aesthetic, or architectural, and ideal images of the body politic” (185). Able-bodied people are fearful of the disabled’s incurability and refusal of normalisation, and do not accept the statistical fact that, at least through the process of aging, most people will end up dependent, ill and/or disabled at some point in life. Mainstream society “prefers to think of people with disabilities as a small population, a stable population, that nevertheless makes enormous claims on the resources of everyone else” (“Theory” 742). Siebers notes that the use of euphemism and strategies of covering eventually harm efforts to create a society that is home to able-bodied and disabled alike (“Theory” 747) and calls for an exploration of “new modes of beauty that attack aesthetic and political standards that insist on uniformity, balance, hygiene, and formal integrity” (Culture 210). What such an architecture, particularly of an actually livable domestic nature, might look like is an open question, though there are already some examples of people trying to reframe many of the assumptions about housing design. For instance, cohousing, where families and individuals share communal space, yet have private accommodations, too, makes available a larger social group than the nuclear family for social and caretaking activities (Blunt and Dowling, 262-65). But how does one define a beauty-less aesthetic or a pleasant home that is not hygienic? Post-structuralist architects, working on different grounds and usually in a highly theoretical, imaginary framework, however, may offer another clue, as they have also tried to ‘liberate’ architecture from the nostalgic dictates of the aesthetic. Ironically, one of the most famous of these, Peter Eisenman, is well known for producing, in a strange reversal, buildings that render the able-bodied uncomfortable and even sometimes ill (see, in particular, Frank and Eisenman). Of several house designs he produced over the years, Eisenman notes that his intention was to dislocate the house from that comforting metaphysic and symbolism of shelter in order to initiate a search for those possibilities of dwelling that may have been repressed by that metaphysic. The house may once have been a true locus and symbol of nurturing shelter, but in a world of irresolvable anxiety, the meaning and form of shelter must be different. (Eisenman 172) Although Eisenman’s starting point is very different from that of Siebers, it nonetheless resonates with the latter’s desire for an aesthetic that incorporates the “ragged edge” of disabled bodies. Yet few would want to live in a home made less attractive or less comfortable, and the “illusion” of permanence is one of the things that provide rest within our homes. Could there be an architecture, or an aesthetic, of home that could create a new and different kind of comfort and beauty, one that is neither based on a denial of the importance of bodily comfort and pleasure nor based on an oppressively narrow and commercialised set of aesthetic values that implicitly value some people over others? For one thing, instead of viewing home as a place of (false) stasis and permanence, we might see it as a place of continual change and renewal, which any home always becomes in practice anyway. As architect Hélène Frichot suggests, “we must look toward the immanent conditions of architecture, the processes it employs, the serial deformations of its built forms, together with our quotidian spatio-temporal practices” (63) instead of settling into a deadening nostalgia like that seen on EMHE. If we define home as a process of continual territorialisation, if we understand that “[t]here is no fixed self, only the process of looking for one,” and likewise that “there is no home, only the process of forming one” (Wise 303), perhaps we can begin to imagine a different, yet lovely conception of “house” and its relation to the experience of “home.” Extreme Makeover: Home Edition should be lauded for its attempts to include families of a wide variety of ethnic and racial backgrounds, various religions, from different regions around the U.S., both rural and suburban, even occasionally urban, and especially for its bringing to the fore how, indeed, structures can be as disabling as any individual impairment. That it shows designers and builders working with the families of the disabled to create accessible homes may help to change wider attitudes and break down resistance to the building of inclusive housing. However, it so far has missed the opportunity to help viewers think about the ways that our ideal homes may conflict with our constantly evolving social needs and bodily realities. References Bachelard, Gaston. The Poetics of Space. Tr. Maria Jolas. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969. Blunt, Alison, and Robyn Dowling. Home. London and New York: Routledge, 2006. Canguilhem, Georges. The Normal and the Pathological. New York: Zone Books, 1991. Davis, Lennard. Bending Over Backwards: Disability, Dismodernism & Other Difficult Positions. New York: NYUP, 2002. ———. Enforcing Normalcy: Disability, Deafness, and the Body. New York: Verso, 1995. Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Tr. B. Massumi. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987. ———. What Is Philosophy? Tr. G. Burchell and H. Tomlinson. London and New York: Verso, 1994. Eisenman, Peter Eisenman. “Misreading” in House of Cards. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. 21 Aug. 2007 http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/eisenman/biblio.html#cards>. Peter Eisenman Texts Anthology at the Stanford Presidential Lectures and Symposia in the Humanities and Arts site. 5 June 2007 http://prelectur.stanford.edu/lecturers/eisenman/texts.html#misread>. “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” Website. 18 May 2007 http://abc.go.com/primetime/xtremehome/index.html>; http://abc.go.com/primetime/xtremehome/show.html>; http://abc.go.com/primetime/xtremehome/bios/101.html>; http://abc.go.com/primetime/xtremehome/bios/301.html>; and http://abc.go.com/primetime/xtremehome/bios/401.html>. Frank, Suzanne Sulof, and Peter Eisenman. House VI: The Client’s Response. New York: Watson-Guptill, 1994. Frichot, Hélène. “Stealing into Gilles Deleuze’s Baroque House.” In Deleuze and Space, eds. Ian Buchanan and Gregg Lambert. Deleuze Connections Series. Toronto: University of Toronto P, 2005. 61-79. Heyes, Cressida J. “Cosmetic Surgery and the Televisual Makeover: A Foucauldian feminist reading.” Feminist Media Studies 7.1 (2007): 17-32. Holliday, Ruth. “Home Truths?” In Ordinary Lifestyles: Popular Media, Consumption and Taste. Ed. David Bell and Joanne Hollows. Maidenhead, Berkshire, England: Open UP, 2005. 65-81. Imrie, Rob. Accessible Housing: Quality, Disability and Design. London and New York: Routledge, 2006. Paulsen, Wade. “‘Extreme Makeover: Home Edition’ surges in ratings and adds Ford as auto partner.” Reality TV World. 14 October 2004. 27 March 2005 http://www.realitytvworld.com/index/articles/story.php?s=2981>. Poniewozik, James, with Jeanne McDowell. “Charity Begins at Home: Extreme Makeover: Home Edition renovates its way into the Top 10 one heart-wrenching story at a time.” Time 20 Dec. 2004: i25 p159. Siebers, Tobin. “Disability in Theory: From Social Constructionism to the New Realism of the Body.” American Literary History 13.4 (2001): 737-754. ———. “What Can Disability Studies Learn from the Culture Wars?” Cultural Critique 55 (2003): 182-216. Simonian, Charisse. Email to network affiliates, 10 March 2006. 18 May 2007 http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0327062extreme1.html>. Snyder, Sharon L., and David T. Mitchell. Cultural Locations of Disability. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2006. ———. Narrative Prosthesis: Disability and the Dependencies of Discourse. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000. Steinmetz, Erika. Americans with Disabilities: 2002. U.S. Department of Commerce, Economics, and Statistics Administration, U.S. Census Bureau, 2006. 15 May 2007 http://www.census.gov/prod/2006pubs/p70-107.pdf>. Wilhelm, Ian. “The Rise of Charity TV (Reality Television Shows).” Chronicle of Philanthropy 19.8 (8 Feb. 2007): n.p. Wise, J. Macgregor. “Home: Territory and Identity.” Cultural Studies 14.2 (2000): 295-310. 
 
 
 
 Citation reference for this article
 
 MLA Style
 Roney, Lisa. "The Extreme Connection Between Bodies and Houses." M/C Journal 10.4 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/03-roney.php>. APA Style
 Roney, L. (Aug. 2007) "The Extreme Connection Between Bodies and Houses," M/C Journal, 10(4). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/03-roney.php>. 
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
34

Geoghegan, Hilary. "“If you can walk down the street and recognise the difference between cast iron and wrought iron, the world is altogether a better place”: Being Enthusiastic about Industrial Archaeology." M/C Journal 12, no. 2 (2009). http://dx.doi.org/10.5204/mcj.140.

Full text
Abstract:
Introduction: Technology EnthusiasmEnthusiasts are people who have a passion, keenness, dedication or zeal for a particular activity or hobby. Today, there are enthusiasts for almost everything, from genealogy, costume dramas, and country houses, to metal detectors, coin collecting, and archaeology. But to be described as an enthusiast is not necessarily a compliment. Historically, the term “enthusiasm” was first used in England in the early seventeenth century to describe “religious or prophetic frenzy among the ancient Greeks” (Hanks, n.p.). This frenzy was ascribed to being possessed by spirits sent not only by God but also the devil. During this period, those who disobeyed the powers that be or claimed to have a message from God were considered to be enthusiasts (McLoughlin).Enthusiasm retained its religious connotations throughout the eighteenth century and was also used at this time to describe “the tendency within the population to be swept by crazes” (Mee 31). However, as part of the “rehabilitation of enthusiasm,” the emerging middle-classes adopted the word to characterise the intensity of Romantic poetry. The language of enthusiasm was then used to describe the “literary ideas of affect” and “a private feeling of religious warmth” (Mee 2 and 34). While the notion of enthusiasm was embraced here in a more optimistic sense, attempts to disassociate enthusiasm from crowd-inciting fanaticism were largely unsuccessful. As such enthusiasm has never quite managed to shake off its pejorative connotations.The 'enthusiasm' discussed in this paper is essentially a personal passion for technology. It forms part of a longer tradition of historical preservation in the United Kingdom and elsewhere in the world. From preserved railways to Victorian pumping stations, people have long been fascinated by the history of technology and engineering; manifesting their enthusiasm through their nostalgic longings and emotional attachment to its enduring material culture. Moreover, enthusiasts have been central to the collection, conservation, and preservation of this particular material record. Technology enthusiasm in this instance is about having a passion for the history and material record of technological development, specifically here industrial archaeology. Despite being a pastime much participated in, technology enthusiasm is relatively under-explored within the academic literature. For the most part, scholarship has tended to focus on the intended users, formal spaces, and official narratives of science and technology (Adas, Latour, Mellström, Oldenziel). In recent years attempts have been made to remedy this imbalance, with researchers from across the social sciences examining the position of hobbyists, tinkerers and amateurs in scientific and technical culture (Ellis and Waterton, Haring, Saarikoski, Takahashi). Work from historians of technology has focussed on the computer enthusiast; for example, Saarikoski’s work on the Finnish personal computer hobby:The definition of the computer enthusiast varies historically. Personal interest, pleasure and entertainment are the most significant factors defining computing as a hobby. Despite this, the hobby may also lead to acquiring useful knowledge, skills or experience of information technology. Most often the activity takes place outside working hours but can still have links to the development of professional expertise or the pursuit of studies. In many cases it takes place in the home environment. On the other hand, it is characteristically social, and the importance of friends, clubs and other communities is greatly emphasised.In common with a number of other studies relating to technical hobbies, for example Takahashi who argues tinkerers were behind the advent of the radio and television receiver, Saarikoski’s work focuses on the role these users played in shaping the technology in question. The enthusiasts encountered in this paper are important here not for their role in shaping the technology, but keeping technological heritage alive. As historian of technology Haring reminds us, “there exist alternative ways of using and relating to technology” (18). Furthermore, the sociological literature on audiences (Abercrombie and Longhurst, Ang), fans (Hills, Jenkins, Lewis, Sandvoss) and subcultures (Hall, Hebdige, Schouten and McAlexander) has also been extended in order to account for the enthusiast. In Abercrombie and Longhurst’s Audiences, the authors locate ‘the enthusiast’ and ‘the fan’ at opposing ends of a continuum of consumption defined by questions of specialisation of interest, social organisation of interest and material productivity. Fans are described as:skilled or competent in different modes of production and consumption; active in their interactions with texts and in their production of new texts; and communal in that they construct different communities based on their links to the programmes they like. (127 emphasis in original) Based on this definition, Abercrombie and Longhurst argue that fans and enthusiasts differ in three ways: (1) enthusiasts’ activities are not based around media images and stars in the way that fans’ activities are; (2) enthusiasts can be hypothesized to be relatively light media users, particularly perhaps broadcast media, though they may be heavy users of the specialist publications which are directed towards the enthusiasm itself; (3) the enthusiasm would appear to be rather more organised than the fan activity. (132) What is striking about this attempt to differentiate between the fan and the enthusiast is that it is based on supposition rather than the actual experience and observation of enthusiasm. It is here that the ethnographic account of enthusiasm presented in this paper and elsewhere, for example works by Dannefer on vintage car culture, Moorhouse on American hot-rodding and Fuller on modified-car culture in Australia, can shed light on the subject. My own ethnographic study of groups with a passion for telecommunications heritage, early British computers and industrial archaeology takes the discussion of “technology enthusiasm” further still. Through in-depth interviews, observation and textual analysis, I have examined in detail the formation of enthusiast societies and their membership, the importance of the material record to enthusiasts (particularly at home) and the enthusiastic practices of collecting and hoarding, as well as the figure of the technology enthusiast in the public space of the museum, namely the Science Museum in London (Geoghegan). In this paper, I explore the culture of enthusiasm for the industrial past through the example of the Greater London Industrial Archaeology Society (GLIAS). Focusing on industrial sites around London, GLIAS meet five or six times a year for field visits, walks and a treasure hunt. The committee maintain a website and produce a quarterly newsletter. The title of my paper, “If you can walk down the street and recognise the difference between cast iron and wrought iron, the world is altogether a better place,” comes from an interview I conducted with the co-founder and present chairman of GLIAS. He was telling me about his fascination with the materials of industrialisation. In fact, he said even concrete is sexy. Some call it a hobby; others call it a disease. But enthusiasm for industrial archaeology is, as several respondents have themselves identified, “as insidious in its side effects as any debilitating germ. It dictates your lifestyle, organises your activity and decides who your friends are” (Frow and Frow 177, Gillespie et al.). Through the figure of the industrial archaeology enthusiast, I discuss in this paper what it means to be enthusiastic. I begin by reflecting on the development of this specialist subject area. I go on to detail the formation of the Society in the late 1960s, before exploring the Society’s fieldwork methods and some of the other activities they now engage in. I raise questions of enthusiast and professional knowledge and practice, as well as consider the future of this particular enthusiasm.Defining Industrial ArchaeologyThe practice of 'industrial archaeology' is much contested. For a long time, enthusiasts and professional archaeologists have debated the meaning and use of the term (Palmer). On the one hand, there are those interested in the history, preservation, and recording of industrial sites. For example the grandfather figures of the subject, namely Kenneth Hudson and Angus Buchanan, who both published widely in the 1960s and 1970s in order to encourage publics to get involved in recording. Many members of GLIAS refer to the books of Hudson Industrial Archaeology: an Introduction and Buchanan Industrial Archaeology in Britain with their fine descriptions and photographs as integral to their early interest in the subject. On the other hand, there are those within the academic discipline of archaeology who consider the study of remains produced by the Industrial Revolution as too modern. Moreover, they find the activities of those calling themselves industrial archaeologists as lacking sufficient attention to the understanding of past human activity to justify the name. As a result, the definition of 'industrial archaeology' is problematic for both enthusiasts and professionals. Even the early advocates of professional industrial archaeology felt uneasy about the subject’s methods and practices. In 1973, Philip Riden (described by one GLIAS member as the angry young man of industrial archaeology), the then president of the Oxford University Archaeology Society, wrote a damning article in Antiquity, calling for the subject to “shed the amateur train drivers and others who are not part of archaeology” (215-216). He decried the “appallingly low standard of some of the work done under the name of ‘industrial archaeology’” (211). He felt that if enthusiasts did not attempt to maintain high technical standards, publish their work in journals or back up their fieldwork with documentary investigation or join their county archaeological societies then there was no value in the efforts of these amateurs. During this period, enthusiasts, academics, and professionals were divided. What was wrong with doing something for the pleasure it provides the participant?Although relations today between the so-called amateur (enthusiast) and professional archaeologies are less potent, some prejudice remains. Describing them as “barrow boys”, some enthusiasts suggest that what was once their much-loved pastime has been “hijacked” by professional archaeologists who, according to one respondent,are desperate to find subjects to get degrees in. So the whole thing has been hijacked by academia as it were. Traditional professional archaeologists in London at least are running head on into things that we have been doing for decades and they still don’t appreciate that this is what we do. A lot of assessments are handed out to professional archaeology teams who don’t necessarily have any knowledge of industrial archaeology. (James, GLIAS committee member)James went on to reveal that GLIAS receives numerous enquiries from professional archaeologists, developers and town planners asking what they know about particular sites across the city. Although the Society has compiled a detailed database covering some areas of London, it is by no means comprehensive. In addition, many active members often record and monitor sites in London for their own personal enjoyment. This leaves many questioning the need to publish their results for the gain of third parties. Canadian sociologist Stebbins discusses this situation in his research on “serious leisure”. He has worked extensively with amateur archaeologists in order to understand their approach to their leisure activity. He argues that amateurs are “neither dabblers who approach the activity with little commitment or seriousness, nor professionals who make a living from that activity” (55). Rather they pursue their chosen leisure activity to professional standards. A point echoed by Fine in his study of the cultures of mushrooming. But this is to get ahead of myself. How did GLIAS begin?GLIAS: The GroupThe 1960s have been described by respondents as a frantic period of “running around like headless chickens.” Enthusiasts of London’s industrial archaeology were witnessing incredible changes to the city’s industrial landscape. Individuals and groups like the Thames Basin Archaeology Observers Group were recording what they could. Dashing around London taking photos to capture London’s industrial legacy before it was lost forever. However the final straw for many, in London at least, was the proposed and subsequent demolition of the “Euston Arch”. The Doric portico at Euston Station was completed in 1838 and stood as a symbol to the glory of railway travel. Despite strong protests from amenity societies, this Victorian symbol of progress was finally pulled down by British Railways in 1962 in order to make way for what enthusiasts have called a “monstrous concrete box”.In response to these changes, GLIAS was founded in 1968 by two engineers and a locomotive driver over afternoon tea in a suburban living room in Woodford, North-East London. They held their first meeting one Sunday afternoon in December at the Science Museum in London and attracted over 130 people. Firing the imagination of potential members with an exhibition of photographs of the industrial landscape taken by Eric de Maré, GLIAS’s first meeting was a success. Bringing together like-minded people who are motivated and enthusiastic about the subject, GLIAS currently has over 600 members in the London area and beyond. This makes it the largest industrial archaeology society in the UK and perhaps Europe. Drawing some of its membership from a series of evening classes hosted by various members of the Society’s committee, GLIAS initially had a quasi-academic approach. Although some preferred the hands-on practical element and were more, as has been described by one respondent, “your free-range enthusiast”. The society has an active committee, produces a newsletter and journal, as well as runs regular events for members. However the Society is not simply about the study of London’s industrial heritage, over time the interest in industrial archaeology has developed for some members into long-term friendships. Sociability is central to organised leisure activities. It underpins and supports the performance of enthusiasm in groups and societies. For Fine, sociability does not always equal friendship, but it is the state from which people might become friends. Some GLIAS members have taken this one step further: there have even been a couple of marriages. Although not the subject of my paper, technical culture is heavily gendered. Industrial archaeology is a rare exception attracting a mixture of male and female participants, usually retired husband and wife teams.Doing Industrial Archaeology: GLIAS’s Method and PracticeIn what has been described as GLIAS’s heyday, namely the 1970s to early 1980s, fieldwork was fundamental to the Society’s activities. The Society’s approach to fieldwork during this period was much the same as the one described by champion of industrial archaeology Arthur Raistrick in 1973:photographing, measuring, describing, and so far as possible documenting buildings, engines, machinery, lines of communication, still or recently in use, providing a satisfactory record for the future before the object may become obsolete or be demolished. (13)In the early years of GLIAS and thanks to the committed efforts of two active Society members, recording parties were organised for extended lunch hours and weekends. The majority of this early fieldwork took place at the St Katherine Docks. The Docks were constructed in the 1820s by Thomas Telford. They became home to the world’s greatest concentration of portable wealth. Here GLIAS members learnt and employed practical (also professional) skills, such as measuring, triangulations and use of a “dumpy level”. For many members this was an incredibly exciting time. It was a chance to gain hands-on experience of industrial archaeology. Having been left derelict for many years, the Docks have since been redeveloped as part of the Docklands regeneration project.At this time the Society was also compiling data for what has become known to members as “The GLIAS Book”. The book was to have separate chapters on the various industrial histories of London with contributions from Society members about specific sites. Sadly the book’s editor died and the project lost impetus. Several years ago, the committee managed to digitise the data collected for the book and began to compile a database. However, the GLIAS database has been beset by problems. Firstly, there are often questions of consistency and coherence. There is a standard datasheet for recording industrial buildings – the Index Record for Industrial Sites. However, the quality of each record is different because of the experience level of the different authors. Some authors are automatically identified as good or expert record keepers. Secondly, getting access to the database in order to upload the information has proved difficult. As one of the respondents put it: “like all computer babies [the creator of the database], is finding it hard to give birth” (Sally, GLIAS member). As we have learnt enthusiasm is integral to movements such as industrial archaeology – public historian Raphael Samuel described them as the “invisible hands” of historical enquiry. Yet, it is this very enthusiasm that has the potential to jeopardise projects such as the GLIAS book. Although active in their recording practices, the GLIAS book saga reflects one of the challenges encountered by enthusiast groups and societies. In common with other researchers studying amenity societies, such as Ellis and Waterton’s work with amateur naturalists, unlike the world of work where people are paid to complete a task and are therefore meant to have a singular sense of purpose, the activities of an enthusiast group like GLIAS rely on the goodwill of their members to volunteer their time, energy and expertise. When this is lost for whatever reason, there is no requirement for any other member to take up that position. As such, levels of commitment vary between enthusiasts and can lead to the aforementioned difficulties, such as disputes between group members, the occasional miscommunication of ideas and an over-enthusiasm for some parts of the task in hand. On top of this, GLIAS and societies like it are confronted with changing health and safety policies and tightened security surrounding industrial sites. This has made the practical side of industrial archaeology increasingly difficult. As GLIAS member Bob explains:For me to go on site now I have to wear site boots and borrow a hard hat and a high visibility jacket. Now we used to do incredibly dangerous things in the seventies and nobody batted an eyelid. You know we were exploring derelict buildings, which you are virtually not allowed in now because the floor might give way. Again the world has changed a lot there. GLIAS: TodayGLIAS members continue to record sites across London. Some members are currently surveying the site chosen as the location of the Olympic Games in London in 2012 – the Lower Lea Valley. They describe their activities at this site as “rescue archaeology”. GLIAS members are working against the clock and some important structures have already been demolished. They only have time to complete a quick flash survey. Armed with the information they collated in previous years, GLIAS is currently in discussions with the developer to orchestrate a detailed recording of the site. It is important to note here that GLIAS members are less interested in campaigning for the preservation of a site or building, they appreciate that sites must change. Instead they want to ensure that large swathes of industrial London are not lost without a trace. Some members regard this as their public duty.Restricted by health and safety mandates and access disputes, GLIAS has had to adapt. The majority of practical recording sessions have given way to guided walks in the summer and public lectures in the winter. Some respondents have identified a difference between those members who call themselves “industrial archaeologists” and those who are just “ordinary members” of GLIAS. The walks are for those with a general interest, not serious members, and the talks are public lectures. Some audience researchers have used Bourdieu’s metaphor of “capital” to describe the experience, knowledge and skill required to be a fan, clubber or enthusiast. For Hills, fan status is built up through the demonstration of cultural capital: “where fans share a common interest while also competing over fan knowledge, access to the object of fandom, and status” (46). A clear membership hierarchy can be seen within GLIAS based on levels of experience, knowledge and practical skill.With a membership of over 600 and rising annually, the Society’s future is secure at present. However some of the more serious members, although retaining their membership, are pursuing their enthusiasm elsewhere: through break-away recording groups in London; active membership of other groups and societies, for example the national Association for Industrial Archaeology; as well as heading off to North Wales in the summer for practical, hands-on industrial archaeology in Snowdonia’s slate quarries – described in the Ffestiniog Railway Journal as the “annual convention of slate nutters.” ConclusionsGLIAS has changed since its foundation in the late 1960s. Its operation has been complicated by questions of health and safety, site access, an ageing membership, and the constant changes to London’s industrial archaeology. Previously rejected by professional industrial archaeology as “limited in skill and resources” (Riden), enthusiasts are now approached by professional archaeologists, developers, planners and even museums that are interested in engaging in knowledge exchange programmes. As a recent report from the British think-tank Demos has argued, enthusiasts or pro-ams – “amateurs who work to professional standards” (Leadbeater and Miller 12) – are integral to future innovation and creativity; for example computer pro-ams developed an operating system to rival Microsoft Windows. As such the specialist knowledge, skill and practice of these communities is of increasing interest to policymakers, practitioners, and business. So, the subject once described as “the ugly offspring of two parents that shouldn’t have been allowed to breed” (Hudson), the so-called “amateur” industrial archaeology offers enthusiasts and professionals alike alternative ways of knowing, seeing and being in the recent and contemporary past.Through the case study of GLIAS, I have described what it means to be enthusiastic about industrial archaeology. I have introduced a culture of collective and individual participation and friendship based on a mutual interest in and emotional attachment to industrial sites. As we have learnt in this paper, enthusiasm is about fun, pleasure and joy. The enthusiastic culture presented here advances themes such as passion in relation to less obvious communities of knowing, skilled practices, material artefacts and spaces of knowledge. Moreover, this paper has been about the affective narratives that are sometimes missing from academic accounts; overlooked for fear of sniggers at the back of a conference hall. Laughter and humour are a large part of what enthusiasm is. Enthusiastic cultures then are about the pleasure and joy experienced in doing things. Enthusiasm is clearly a potent force for active participation. I will leave the last word to GLIAS member John:One meaning of enthusiasm is as a form of possession, madness. Obsession perhaps rather than possession, which I think is entirely true. It is a pejorative term probably. The railway enthusiast. But an awful lot of energy goes into what they do and achieve. Enthusiasm to my mind is an essential ingredient. If you are not a person who can muster enthusiasm, it is very difficult, I think, to get anything out of it. On the basis of the more you put in the more you get out. In terms of what has happened with industrial archaeology in this country, I think, enthusiasm is a very important aspect of it. The movement needs people who can transmit that enthusiasm. ReferencesAbercrombie, N., and B. Longhurst. Audiences: A Sociological Theory of Performance and Imagination. London: Sage Publications, 1998.Adas, M. Machines as the Measure of Men: Science, Technology and Ideologies of Western Dominance. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1989.Ang, I. Desperately Seeking the Audience. London: Routledge, 1991.Bourdieu, P. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. London: Routledge, 1984.Buchanan, R.A. Industrial Archaeology in Britain. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin, 1972.Dannefer, D. “Rationality and Passion in Private Experience: Modern Consciousness and the Social World of Old-Car Collectors.” Social Problems 27 (1980): 392–412.Dannefer, D. “Neither Socialization nor Recruitment: The Avocational Careers of Old-Car Enthusiasts.” Social Forces 60 (1981): 395–413.Ellis, R., and C. Waterton. “Caught between the Cartographic and the Ethnographic Imagination: The Whereabouts of Amateurs, Professionals, and Nature in Knowing Biodiversity.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 23 (2005): 673–693.Fine, G.A. “Mobilizing Fun: Provisioning Resources in Leisure Worlds.” Sociology of Sport Journal 6 (1989): 319–334.Fine, G.A. Morel Tales: The Culture of Mushrooming. Champaign, Ill.: U of Illinois P, 2003.Frow, E., and R. Frow. “Travels with a Caravan.” History Workshop Journal 2 (1976): 177–182Fuller, G. Modified: Cars, Culture, and Event Mechanics. Unpublished PhD Thesis, University of Western Sydney, 2007.Geoghegan, H. The Culture of Enthusiasm: Technology, Collecting and Museums. Unpublished PhD Thesis, University of London, 2008.Gillespie, D.L., A. Leffler, and E. Lerner. “‘If It Weren’t for My Hobby, I’d Have a Life’: Dog Sports, Serious Leisure, and Boundary Negotiations.” Leisure Studies 21 (2002): 285–304.Hall, S., and T. Jefferson, eds. Resistance through Rituals: Youth Sub-Cultures in Post-War Britain. London: Hutchinson, 1976.Hanks, P. “Enthusiasm and Condescension.” Euralex ’98 Proceedings. 1998. 18 Jul. 2005 ‹http://www.patrickhanks.com/papers/enthusiasm.pdf›.Haring, K. “The ‘Freer Men’ of Ham Radio: How a Technical Hobby Provided Social and Spatial Distance.” Technology and Culture 44 (2003): 734–761.Haring, K. Ham Radio’s Technical Culture. London: MIT Press, 2007.Hebdige, D. Subculture: The Meaning of Style. London: Methuen, 1979.Hills, M. Fan Cultures. London: Routledge, 2002.Hudson, K. Industrial Archaeology London: John Baker, 1963.Jenkins, H. Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture. London: Routledge, 1992.Latour, B. Aramis, or the Love of Technology. London: Harvard UP, 1996.Leadbeater, C., and P. Miller. The Pro-Am Revolution: How Enthusiasts Are Changing Our Economy and Society. London: Demos, 2004.Lewis, L.A., ed. The Adoring Audience: Fan Culture and Popular Media. London: Routledge, 1992.McLoughlin, W.G. Revivals, Awakenings, and Reform: An Essay on Religion and Social Change in America, 1607-1977. London: U of Chicago P, 1977.Mee, J. Romanticism, Enthusiasm, and Regulation: Poetics and the Policing of Culture in the Romantic Period. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2003.Mellström, U. “Patriarchal Machines and Masculine Embodiment.” Science, Technology, & Human Values 27 (2002): 460–478.Moorhouse, H.F. Driving Ambitions: A Social Analysis of American Hot Rod Enthusiasm. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1991.Oldenziel, R. Making Technology Masculine: Men, Women and Modern Machines in America 1870-1945. Amsterdam: Amsterdam UP, 1999.Palmer, M. “‘We Have Not Factory Bell’: Domestic Textile Workers in the Nineteenth Century.” The Local Historian 34 (2004): 198–213.Raistrick, A. Industrial Archaeology. London: Granada, 1973.Riden, P. “Post-Post-Medieval Archaeology.” Antiquity XLVII (1973): 210-216.Rix, M. “Industrial Archaeology: Progress Report 1962.” The Amateur Historian 5 (1962): 56–60.Rix, M. Industrial Archaeology. London: The Historical Association, 1967.Saarikoski, P. The Lure of the Machine: The Personal Computer Interest in Finland from the 1970s to the Mid-1990s. Unpublished PhD Thesis, 2004. ‹http://users.utu.fi/petsaari/lure.pdf›.Samuel, R. Theatres of Memory London: Verso, 1994.Sandvoss, C. Fans: The Mirror of Consumption Cambridge: Polity, 2005.Schouten, J.W., and J. McAlexander. “Subcultures of Consumption: An Ethnography of the New Bikers.” Journal of Consumer Research 22 (1995) 43–61.Stebbins, R.A. Amateurs: On the Margin between Work and Leisure. Beverly Hills: Sage, 1979.Stebbins, R.A. Amateurs, Professionals, and Serious Leisure. London: McGill-Queen’s UP, 1992.Takahashi, Y. “A Network of Tinkerers: The Advent of the Radio and Television Receiver Industry in Japan.” Technology and Culture 41 (2000): 460–484.
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
35

Ayoub, Ramy. "The Commodity Society." August 16, 2022. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.13322066.

Full text
Abstract:
<em>The Commodity Society: Understanding the Self as a Product in a Market-Driven World</em> <em>The Commodity Society</em> <em>In today's hyper-capitalistic world, the lines between personal identity and economic value have</em> <em>blurred, giving rise to what can be described as a "Commodity Society." This term encapsulates</em> <em>the phenomenon where individuals increasingly view themselves as products or services to be</em> <em>marketed, sold, and consumed. The advent of the digital age, coupled with the proliferation of</em> <em>social media and the gig economy, has accelerated this trend, leading to profound changes in</em> <em>how people perceive themselves, their time, and their relationships.</em> <em>The concept of self-commodification is not entirely new, but its current manifestation is</em> <em>unprecedented in scale and intensity. People now spend considerable amounts of time and energy</em> <em>curating their personal brands, monetizing their identities, and optimizing their lives for</em> <em>economic gain. This shift has far-reaching implications, not only for individual well-being but</em> <em>also for social relationships, cultural values, and ethical norms.</em> <em>The Rise of Self-Commodification</em> <em>Personal branding has become a ubiquitous part of modern life, particularly in the digital age.</em> <em>Social media platforms such as Instagram, LinkedIn, and TikTok encourage users to present</em> <em>curated versions of themselves, often with the goal of gaining followers, likes, and ultimately,</em> <em>financial success. The gig economy further reinforces this trend by turning individuals into</em> <em>freelancers or entrepreneurs who must constantly market their skills and services to stay</em> <em>competitive.</em> <em>Monetization of identity is another key aspect of self-commodification. In the past, one's identity</em> <em>was largely shaped by personal experiences, relationships, and intrinsic values. Today, however,</em> <em>identity is increasingly tied to marketability. Influencers, content creators, and even ordinary</em> <em>social media users often feel compelled to commodify their personal lives, turning their hobbies,</em> <em>opinions, and even relationships into revenue streams.</em> <em>Time has also become a commodity in this new societal framework. The old adage "time is</em> <em>money" has taken on new meaning as people increasingly view every moment as an opportunity</em> <em>for economic gain. This can lead to a relentless pursuit of productivity and efficiency, often at the</em> <em>expense of personal fulfillment and well-being.</em> <em>Impacts on Individual Identity and Well-being</em> <em>The pressure to commodify oneself can lead to an identity crisis, where individuals struggle to</em> <em>reconcile their true selves with the market-driven personas they present to the world. This</em> <em>dissonance can create feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, and a sense of being trapped in a neverending</em> <em>cycle of self-promotion.</em> <em>The psychology of self-commodification is complex and multifaceted. On one hand, it can</em> <em>provide individuals with a sense of purpose and control, as they actively shape their personal</em> <em>brands and pursue economic success. On the other hand, it can lead to burnout, as the constant</em> <em>need to perform and produce can be mentally and emotionally exhausting. The pressure to</em> <em>maintain a marketable image can also stifle creativity and authenticity, as individuals may feel</em> <em>compelled to conform to trends and expectations rather than expressing their true selves.</em> <em>Moreover, the commodification of self often requires individuals to prioritize economic gain</em> <em>over personal fulfillment. This can lead to a sacrifice of authenticity, where financial success</em> <em>becomes the primary measure of one's worth, overshadowing other important aspects of life such</em> <em>as relationships, personal growth, and inner peace.</em> <em>The Transformation of Social Relationships</em> <em>As individuals increasingly view themselves as commodities, social relationships are also</em> <em>transformed. Interactions that were once driven by mutual respect, affection, or shared interests</em> <em>are now often evaluated based on their utility or potential benefits. This transactional approach to</em> <em>relationships can erode genuine social bonds, leading to a sense of isolation and disconnection.</em> <em>Work-life balance is another area that is significantly impacted by self-commodification. The</em> <em>pressure to constantly market oneself and optimize time for economic gain can blur the</em> <em>boundaries between work and personal life, making it difficult to fully disconnect and engage in</em> <em>meaningful, non-transactional relationships.</em> <em>The commodification of social relationships can also have long-term consequences for society as</em> <em>a whole. As people become more focused on individual success and self-promotion, communal</em> <em>values such as empathy, cooperation, and social responsibility may be undermined. This shift</em> <em>towards hyper-individualism can contribute to social fragmentation and a weakening of the</em> <em>social fabric that binds communities together.</em> <em>Cultural and Ethical Considerations</em> <em>The rise of self-commodification is closely tied to the broader cultural shift towards hypercapitalism.</em> <em>In a society that prioritizes material success and economic efficiency, it is perhaps</em> <em>inevitable that individuals would begin to view themselves as commodities. However, this shift</em> <em>raises important ethical questions about the impact of commodification on human dignity, wellbeing,</em> <em>and social justice.</em> <em>One of the key ethical dilemmas of self-commodification is the potential for exploitation. As</em> <em>individuals strive to market themselves and maximize their economic value, they may be</em> <em>vulnerable to exploitation by those who seek to profit from their labor, creativity, or personal</em> <em>data. This is particularly concerning in the digital economy, where the boundaries between</em> <em>personal and professional life are often blurred, and individuals may feel compelled to constantly</em> <em>perform and produce in order to stay competitive.</em> <em>Hyper-capitalism also tends to prioritize short-term gains over long-term well-being, leading to a</em> <em>culture of immediate gratification and constant consumption. This can have detrimental effects</em> <em>on both individuals and society as a whole, as it encourages a focus on material wealth and</em> <em>external validation rather than intrinsic values and personal fulfillment.</em> <em>The phenomenon of self-commodification represents a significant shift in how individuals</em> <em>perceive themselves and interact with the world. While it offers new opportunities for personal</em> <em>branding, economic success, and social mobility, it also poses significant challenges to individual</em> <em>identity, well-being, and social relationships. The cultural and ethical implications of this trend</em> <em>are profound, raising important questions about the future of society in an increasingly</em> <em>commodified world.</em> <em>As we move forward, it is essential to critically examine the forces driving self-commodification</em> <em>and to consider how we can navigate this trend in a way that promotes human dignity, social</em> <em>justice, and personal fulfillment. By fostering a culture that values authenticity, empathy, and</em> <em>community, we can begin to address the challenges of self-commodification and create a more</em> <em>just and humane society.</em> <em>Personal Branding in the Digital Age</em> <em>The advent of digital technologies and social media platforms has revolutionized the way</em> <em>individuals present themselves to the world. Personal branding, once a concept reserved for highprofile</em> <em>professionals and entrepreneurs, has become a ubiquitous practice for people across all</em> <em>walks of life. Social media platforms have democratized the ability to create and control personal</em> <em>narratives, turning everyone into a potential brand ambassador.</em> <em>1. The Evolution of Personal Branding</em> <em>Historically, personal branding was associated with corporate executives and celebrities who</em> <em>used their public personas to advance their careers and influence. Today, personal branding has</em> <em>become a common practice among individuals seeking to differentiate themselves in a crowded</em> <em>job market or build a following in a niche area. The tools available&mdash;ranging from professional</em> <em>networking sites to social media platforms&mdash;allow individuals to craft their images, showcase</em> <em>their skills, and engage with audiences directly.</em> <em>2. The Role of Social Media</em> <em>Social media has transformed personal branding from a niche activity into a mainstream</em> <em>endeavor. Platforms like LinkedIn facilitate professional networking and career advancement,</em> <em>while Instagram and TikTok provide spaces for individuals to showcase their hobbies, talents,</em> <em>and lifestyles. This visibility can lead to new opportunities, from job offers to brand partnerships,</em> <em>but it also comes with pressures to constantly update, engage, and perform.</em> <em>3. The Gig Economy and Marketable Skills</em> <em>The rise of the gig economy has further reinforced the trend of self-commodification. Individuals</em> <em>are now seen as freelancers or entrepreneurs who must actively market their skills and services to</em> <em>secure work. The gig economy platform model&mdash;embodied by companies like Uber, Fiverr, and</em> <em>Upwork&mdash;requires individuals to continuously market themselves to potential clients. This shift</em> <em>has transformed traditional employment models, placing the onus of personal branding and selfpromotion</em> <em>squarely on individuals.</em> <em>Monetization of Identity: Social Media and the Gig Economy</em> <em>1. The Dynamics of Monetizing Personal Identity</em> <em>Monetizing one&rsquo;s identity involves turning personal attributes, interests, and experiences into</em> <em>financial assets. Social media influencers exemplify this trend by leveraging their online presence</em> <em>to secure brand deals, sponsorships, and advertising revenue. Similarly, individuals in the gig</em> <em>economy monetize their skills by offering services directly to consumers. This monetization</em> <em>often requires a careful balance of personal authenticity and marketability.</em> <em>2. The Influence of Social Media Algorithms</em> <em>Social media algorithms play a crucial role in the monetization process by determining which</em> <em>content is seen by users and how it is promoted. These algorithms often prioritize content that</em> <em>generates high engagement, which can incentivize individuals to create increasingly polished or</em> <em>sensationalized content to gain visibility. This dynamic can lead to a cycle of performance</em> <em>pressure and an ever-growing need to stay relevant and appealing to audiences.</em> <em>3. Financial Success and Personal Fulfillment</em> <em>While monetization offers potential financial rewards, it can also complicate the relationship</em> <em>between personal fulfillment and economic success. Individuals may find themselves trapped in a</em> <em>cycle of chasing likes, followers, and revenue, potentially sacrificing personal interests and wellbeing</em> <em>in the process. The quest for financial success can overshadow intrinsic motivations,</em> <em>leading to a sense of disconnection from one&rsquo;s authentic self.</em> <em>Time as a Commodity: The Economics of Self</em> <em>1. The Concept of Time as a Marketable Asset</em> <em>In a society driven by market values, time has increasingly been viewed as a commodity to be</em> <em>bought and sold. This shift has profound implications for how individuals allocate their time and</em> <em>energy. The concept of "time is money" has become more literal, with individuals optimizing</em> <em>their schedules to maximize productivity and economic returns.</em> <em>2. The Pressure to Be Productive</em> <em>The pressure to be constantly productive can lead to a relentless pursuit of efficiency and</em> <em>economic gain. This mindset often prioritizes work and income generation over leisure and</em> <em>personal fulfillment, contributing to a culture of overwork and burnout. The expectation to</em> <em>always be "on" can erode work-life balance and impact mental health, as individuals struggle to</em> <em>meet the demands of a commodified existence.</em> <em>3. The Impact on Personal Well-being</em> <em>The commodification of time can lead to a variety of negative outcomes for personal well-being.</em> <em>Individuals may experience increased stress, anxiety, and burnout as they navigate the pressures</em> <em>of constant productivity. The need to continually optimize time for financial gain can also detract</em> <em>from the ability to engage in meaningful activities and relationships, ultimately affecting overall</em> <em>quality of life.</em> <em>The rise of self-commodification, driven by personal branding, the gig economy, and the</em> <em>commodification of time, has created a complex landscape where individuals navigate the</em> <em>intersections of identity, market value, and personal fulfillment. As we delve deeper into the</em> <em>impacts of this phenomenon, it is essential to consider both the opportunities and challenges it</em> <em>presents, and to explore ways to achieve a more balanced and authentic approach to selfcommodification.</em> <em>Impacts on Individual Identity and Well-being</em> <em>The Identity Crisis: Who Are We Beyond the Market?</em> <em>1. The Blurring of Personal and Market Identities</em> <em>As individuals increasingly commodify themselves, the line between personal identity and</em> <em>marketable persona becomes increasingly blurred. This shift raises fundamental questions about</em> <em>the essence of identity. Are we defined by our intrinsic qualities and personal experiences, or by</em> <em>how we are perceived and valued in the marketplace? This tension between personal authenticity</em> <em>and marketability can lead to an identity crisis, where individuals struggle to understand who</em> <em>they are beyond their economic value.</em> <em>2. The Pressure of Performance</em> <em>The need to continuously perform and present a polished image can create a sense of instability</em> <em>and insecurity. When personal worth is tied to external validation&mdash;such as likes, shares, and</em> <em>financial success&mdash;individuals may find it difficult to maintain a stable sense of self. This</em> <em>pressure to perform can lead to chronic stress and anxiety, as individuals feel the constant need</em> <em>to live up to the expectations set by their public personas.</em> <em>3. The Role of Social Comparison</em> <em>Social media platforms often facilitate constant comparison with others, which can exacerbate</em> <em>feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt. When individuals measure their worth based on the</em> <em>success of others, they may experience a diminished sense of self-esteem and confidence. This</em> <em>competitive environment can further contribute to an identity crisis, as people struggle to</em> <em>differentiate themselves and assert their unique value in a crowded digital space.</em> <em>The Psychology of Self-Commodification: Anxiety, Burnout, and Performance Pressure</em> <em>1. The Psychological Toll of Self-Promotion</em> <em>The act of self-promotion and the constant need to manage one's public image can have</em> <em>significant psychological consequences. The pursuit of visibility and economic success often</em> <em>requires individuals to engage in activities that may not align with their true interests or values.</em> <em>This misalignment can lead to feelings of disconnection and distress, as individuals may struggle</em> <em>to reconcile their personal desires with their market-driven personas.</em> <em>2. Anxiety and Burnout</em> <em>The relentless pressure to maintain a marketable image and meet performance expectations can</em> <em>contribute to high levels of anxiety and burnout. The fear of falling behind, missing</em> <em>opportunities, or failing to meet the demands of a commodified existence can be overwhelming.</em> <em>This stress can manifest in various forms, including insomnia, depression, and physical health</em> <em>issues, further impacting overall well-being.</em> <em>3. The Cycle of Performance Pressure</em> <em>The cycle of performance pressure often creates a paradox where individuals are trapped in a</em> <em>continuous loop of striving for success and recognition. The pursuit of external validation can</em> <em>become a primary focus, overshadowing personal fulfillment and intrinsic motivations. This</em> <em>cycle can lead to a sense of exhaustion and dissatisfaction, as individuals may find it challenging</em> <em>to achieve a sense of balance and contentment.</em> <em>The Sacrifice of Authenticity: Balancing Financial Success with Personal Fulfillment</em> <em>1. The Trade-Off Between Marketability and Authenticity</em> <em>The pressure to market oneself effectively can lead to a compromise on authenticity. Individuals</em> <em>may feel compelled to conform to trends, adopt personas that resonate with audiences, or present</em> <em>an idealized version of themselves. This trade-off between marketability and authenticity can</em> <em>result in a loss of genuine self-expression and personal satisfaction.</em> <em>2. The Quest for Balance</em> <em>Finding a balance between financial success and personal fulfillment is a critical challenge in the</em> <em>age of self-commodification. While economic gain can provide financial stability and</em> <em>opportunities, it is essential to consider the impact on personal well-being and self-fulfillment.</em> <em>Individuals must navigate the complexities of maintaining their true selves while pursuing</em> <em>market-driven goals.</em> <em>3. Strategies for Maintaining Authenticity</em> <em>To preserve authenticity in a commodified world, individuals can adopt strategies that prioritize</em> <em>self-awareness and personal values. This may include setting boundaries between personal and</em> <em>professional life, engaging in activities that align with intrinsic interests, and fostering genuine</em> <em>relationships that are not solely based on transactional value. By focusing on these aspects,</em> <em>individuals can strive to achieve a more harmonious balance between economic success and</em> <em>personal fulfillment.</em> <em>The impacts of self-commodification on individual identity and well-being are profound and</em> <em>multifaceted. The challenges of navigating an identity crisis, managing performance pressure,</em> <em>and balancing authenticity with financial success highlight the need for a thoughtful approach to</em> <em>self-commodification. Understanding these impacts is crucial for developing strategies that</em> <em>support mental health, personal satisfaction, and a sense of genuine self in a market-driven</em> <em>world.</em> <em>The Transformation of Social Relationships</em> <em>The Transactional Nature of Modern Interactions</em> <em>1. From Genuine to Transactional</em> <em>The rise of self-commodification has transformed many social interactions from genuine</em> <em>connections to transactional exchanges. In a society where personal value is often linked to</em> <em>marketability, relationships are increasingly evaluated based on their utility and potential</em> <em>benefits. This shift is evident in both professional and personal spheres, where interactions are</em> <em>frequently driven by the prospect of mutual gain rather than authentic connection.</em> <em>2. The Influence of Networking</em> <em>Networking has become a cornerstone of professional and social success, with individuals</em> <em>focusing on building connections that can advance their careers or personal goals. While</em> <em>networking can facilitate valuable opportunities, it often emphasizes strategic advantage over</em> <em>genuine relationship-building. This transactional approach can lead to superficial connections</em> <em>and a diminished sense of community, as interactions become more about leveraging</em> <em>relationships for personal gain rather than fostering meaningful bonds.</em> <em>3. The Impact of Social Media</em> <em>Social media platforms further exacerbate the transactional nature of modern interactions. The</em> <em>visibility and accessibility provided by these platforms encourage individuals to curate their</em> <em>social networks for maximum impact, often leading to a focus on quantity over quality. This</em> <em>emphasis on expanding one&rsquo;s network can result in interactions that are more about gaining</em> <em>followers or endorsements than forming authentic relationships.</em> <em>The Impact on Work-Life Balance and Personal Connections</em> <em>1. Blurring of Work and Personal Life</em> <em>The commodification of time and self often leads to the blurring of work and personal life</em> <em>boundaries. With the increasing presence of work-related activities in personal spaces and the</em> <em>expectation of constant availability, individuals may struggle to maintain a healthy work-life</em> <em>balance. This overlap can diminish the quality of personal relationships and contribute to a sense</em> <em>of being perpetually "on" and unable to fully disengage from work.</em> <em>2. The Strain on Personal Relationships</em> <em>The focus on marketability and economic success can strain personal relationships. Individuals</em> <em>who prioritize their professional or financial goals may find it challenging to devote adequate</em> <em>time and attention to their loved ones. The pressure to perform and succeed can lead to neglect of</em> <em>family and friends, resulting in weakened connections and a diminished sense of support and</em> <em>intimacy.</em> <em>3. The Rise of Transactional Friendships</em> <em>In a commodified world, even friendships can take on a transactional nature. People may seek</em> <em>out connections based on their potential benefits or opportunities rather than mutual interests or</em> <em>genuine affection. This shift can lead to a sense of superficiality in social interactions, where the</em> <em>value of relationships is measured by their utility rather than their emotional or personal</em> <em>significance.</em> <em>Commodification and the Erosion of Genuine Social Bonds</em> <em>1. The Erosion of Empathy and Trust</em> <em>As social interactions become increasingly transactional, the erosion of empathy and trust</em> <em>becomes a significant concern. Genuine social bonds are often built on trust, mutual respect, and</em> <em>shared experiences. When relationships are evaluated primarily for their transactional value,</em> <em>these fundamental elements can be undermined, leading to a decline in the quality of</em> <em>interpersonal connections.</em> <em>2. The Impact on Community Cohesion</em> <em>The commodification of social interactions can also affect community cohesion. Communities</em> <em>thrive on a sense of belonging and mutual support, which can be undermined by a focus on</em> <em>individual gain and marketability. As people prioritize personal success over collective wellbeing,</em> <em>the strength and resilience of communities may be weakened, contributing to social</em> <em>fragmentation.</em> <em>3. The Need for Reconnection</em> <em>To counteract the erosion of genuine social bonds, there is a growing need to foster authentic</em> <em>connections and rebuild a sense of community. Individuals and organizations can work towards</em> <em>creating environments that prioritize meaningful interactions and support networks, emphasizing</em> <em>collaboration and empathy over transactional relationships. By focusing on the intrinsic value of</em> <em>relationships, it is possible to nurture deeper connections and enhance overall social well-being.</em> <em>The transformation of social relationships in the context of self-commodification highlights</em> <em>significant changes in how individuals interact and connect with one another. The shift towards</em> <em>transactional interactions, the impact on work-life balance, and the erosion of genuine social</em> <em>bonds underscore the need for a thoughtful approach to fostering authentic relationships and</em> <em>maintaining community cohesion. Understanding these dynamics is essential for addressing the</em> <em>challenges and opportunities presented by a commodified society.</em> <em>Cultural and Ethical Considerations</em> <em>Hyper-Capitalism and the Shift in Cultural Values</em> <em>1. The Emergence of Hyper-Capitalism</em> <em>Hyper-capitalism, characterized by extreme market-driven practices and values, has profoundly</em> <em>influenced cultural norms and individual behaviors. This economic system prioritizes profit and</em> <em>market efficiency above all else, leading to a heightened focus on commodification and economic</em> <em>gain. In a hyper-capitalist society, every aspect of life&mdash;including personal identity,</em> <em>relationships, and even time&mdash;is often evaluated through a financial lens.</em> <em>2. The Cultural Shift Towards Market Values</em> <em>The shift towards hyper-capitalism has led to a cultural transformation where market values</em> <em>increasingly shape social norms and expectations. Traditional values such as community,</em> <em>solidarity, and intrinsic fulfillment have been overshadowed by a focus on individual success,</em> <em>economic efficiency, and market-driven achievements. This cultural shift is evident in the</em> <em>growing emphasis on personal branding, the monetization of identity, and the transactional</em> <em>nature of social interactions.</em> <em>3. The Impact on Social Norms and Expectations</em> <em>The dominance of market values has altered social norms and expectations, leading to a culture</em> <em>where success is often equated with economic achievement and visibility. This change can</em> <em>impact how individuals perceive their own worth and the worth of others, leading to a greater</em> <em>emphasis on material success and outward appearances. The cultural shift also influences how</em> <em>people engage with one another, as relationships are increasingly evaluated based on their</em> <em>economic value or potential benefits.</em> <em>The Ethical Dilemmas of Self-Commodification</em> <em>1. The Ethics of Self-Exploitation</em> <em>Self-commodification raises ethical concerns regarding self-exploitation and the boundaries of</em> <em>personal autonomy. The pressure to continuously market oneself and perform for economic gain</em> <em>can lead to situations where individuals are compelled to sacrifice their well-being, privacy, and</em> <em>authenticity. The ethics of self-exploitation become particularly relevant when considering the</em> <em>extent to which individuals are willing to compromise their personal values and mental health for</em> <em>financial success.</em> <em>2. The Question of Authenticity vs. Marketability</em> <em>The tension between authenticity and marketability presents ethical dilemmas for individuals</em> <em>who must navigate the demands of a commodified world. While personal branding and selfpromotion</em> <em>can offer economic benefits, they often require individuals to present curated or</em> <em>idealized versions of themselves. This compromise on authenticity raises questions about the</em> <em>integrity of personal representations and the impact on genuine self-expression.</em> <em>3. The Role of Platforms and Employers</em> <em>Ethical considerations also extend to the roles of platforms and employers that facilitate or</em> <em>benefit from self-commodification. Social media platforms, gig economy companies, and other</em> <em>market-driven entities play a significant role in shaping the commodification of identity. The</em> <em>ethical responsibilities of these organizations include addressing issues of exploitation, ensuring</em> <em>fair treatment, and promoting transparency and authenticity in interactions with users and</em> <em>employees.</em> <em>Long-Term Consequences for Society</em> <em>1. The Risk of Increased Social Inequality</em> <em>The commodification of self and the rise of hyper-capitalism can exacerbate social inequalities</em> <em>by creating environments where success is increasingly tied to market value and visibility. Those</em> <em>with greater resources, skills, or social capital may have more opportunities to thrive, while</em> <em>others may face barriers to economic and social advancement. This dynamic can contribute to</em> <em>widening disparities and social stratification.</em> <em>2. The Impact on Mental Health and Well-being</em> <em>The long-term consequences of self-commodification for mental health and well-being are</em> <em>significant. Chronic stress, burnout, and identity crises are likely to become more prevalent as</em> <em>individuals navigate the pressures of a commodified existence. The impact on mental health</em> <em>underscores the need for strategies and interventions that support individuals in managing the</em> <em>challenges associated with self-commodification.</em> <em>3. The Future of Personal and Social Values</em> <em>As society continues to evolve in response to the forces of hyper-capitalism and selfcommodification,</em> <em>it is essential to consider the future of personal and social values. The potential</em> <em>for a cultural shift towards greater emphasis on intrinsic fulfillment, community, and authenticity</em> <em>offers opportunities to rebalance the impacts of commodification. Emphasizing values that</em> <em>prioritize well-being, genuine connections, and ethical considerations can contribute to a more</em> <em>balanced and sustainable approach to personal and social dynamics.</em> <em>Cultural and ethical considerations play a crucial role in understanding the broader implications</em> <em>of self-commodification. The shift towards hyper-capitalism, the ethical dilemmas associated</em> <em>with self-exploitation, and the long-term consequences for society highlight the need for a</em> <em>thoughtful and balanced approach to navigating the commodified world. By addressing these</em> <em>issues, individuals and organizations can work towards creating environments that support</em> <em>authenticity, well-being, and equitable opportunities.</em> <em>Conclusion</em> <em>Summary of Key Findings</em> <em>1. The Permeation of Self-Commodification</em> <em>Self-commodification has become a defining feature of modern society, influencing various</em> <em>aspects of personal and social life. Individuals increasingly view themselves as products or</em> <em>services, driven by market dynamics and the pursuit of economic gain. This trend is facilitated</em> <em>by the pervasive influence of social media, the gig economy, and the monetization of personal</em> <em>identity.</em> <em>2. Impacts on Identity and Well-being</em> <em>The impacts of self-commodification on individual identity and well-being are profound. The</em> <em>blurring of personal and market identities has led to identity crises and performance pressure,</em> <em>contributing to anxiety, burnout, and diminished authenticity. The constant need to maintain a</em> <em>marketable image can compromise personal fulfillment and mental health, raising concerns about</em> <em>the balance between financial success and genuine self-expression.</em> <em>3. Transformation of Social Relationships</em> <em>The transformation of social relationships reflects the shift towards transactional interactions and</em> <em>the erosion of genuine bonds. The focus on market-driven connections has strained personal</em> <em>relationships and affected work-life balance, leading to superficial social interactions and</em> <em>weakened community cohesion. This shift emphasizes the need for fostering authentic</em> <em>relationships and rebuilding a sense of community.</em> <em>4. Cultural and Ethical Considerations</em> <em>The rise of hyper-capitalism has reshaped cultural values, emphasizing market values over</em> <em>traditional norms of community and authenticity. Ethical dilemmas related to self-exploitation</em> <em>and the compromise of personal values highlight the need for addressing the impacts of selfcommodification</em> <em>on individuals and society. Long-term consequences, such as increased social</em> <em>inequality and mental health challenges, underscore the importance of balancing market-driven</em> <em>goals with ethical considerations and personal well-being.</em> <em>Reflections on the Future of Self-Commodification</em> <em>1. Evolving Dynamics</em> <em>As society continues to evolve, the dynamics of self-commodification will likely persist and</em> <em>transform. The interplay between market forces, technological advancements, and cultural shifts</em> <em>will shape the future of personal and social interactions. Understanding these evolving dynamics</em> <em>is crucial for navigating the challenges and opportunities presented by a commodified world.</em> <em>2. Potential for Positive Change</em> <em>While the impacts of self-commodification present significant challenges, there is potential for</em> <em>positive change. By emphasizing values such as authenticity, community, and personal</em> <em>fulfillment, individuals and organizations can work towards creating environments that support</em> <em>genuine connections and well-being. Initiatives that prioritize ethical considerations and mental</em> <em>health can contribute to a more balanced and equitable approach to self-commodification.</em> <em>3. The Role of Policy and Education</em> <em>Addressing the impacts of self-commodification may also require policy interventions and</em> <em>educational initiatives. Policies that promote fair treatment and transparency in the gig economy,</em> <em>as well as educational programs that emphasize the importance of authentic self-expression and</em> <em>mental health, can play a role in mitigating the negative effects of commodification.</em> <em>Recommendations for Individuals and Society</em> <em>1. For Individuals</em> <em>&bull; Cultivate Authenticity: Strive to maintain authenticity in personal and professional life.</em> <em>Prioritize activities and relationships that align with personal values and interests, rather</em> <em>than solely focusing on market-driven goals.</em> <em>&bull; Manage Well-being: Develop strategies for managing stress and maintaining mental</em> <em>health. Set boundaries between personal and professional life, and seek support when</em> <em>needed to address issues related to anxiety and burnout.</em> <em>&bull; Build Genuine Connections: Focus on forming and nurturing genuine relationships.</em> <em>Engage in interactions that are based on mutual respect and shared interests, rather than</em> <em>transactional benefits.</em> <em>2. For Society</em> <em>&bull; Promote Ethical Practices: Encourage ethical practices within industries that contribute</em> <em>to self-commodification. Support organizations and platforms that prioritize fair</em> <em>treatment, transparency, and respect for personal well-being.</em> <em>&bull; Support Mental Health Initiatives: Advocate for mental health support and resources</em> <em>that address the challenges of self-commodification. Promote awareness and education</em> <em>about mental health issues related to performance pressure and identity crises.</em> <em>&bull; Foster Community Engagement: Invest in community-building initiatives that</em> <em>strengthen social bonds and promote authentic interactions. Create environments that</em> <em>emphasize collective well-being and support networks, rather than focusing solely on</em> <em>individual success.</em> <em>3. For Policy Makers</em> <em>&bull; Develop Fair Regulations: Implement regulations that ensure fair treatment and</em> <em>protection for individuals participating in the gig economy and other market-driven</em> <em>activities. Address issues related to self-exploitation and economic disparities.</em> <em>&bull; Encourage Educational Programs: Support educational programs that emphasize the</em> <em>importance of authenticity, mental health, and ethical considerations in personal and</em> <em>professional contexts. Foster a culture of self-awareness and balanced decision-making.</em> <em>Table of Contents</em> <em>1 Introduction</em> <em>◦ Overview of Commodification in Modern Society</em> <em>◦ Purpose and Scope of the White Paper</em> <em>2 The Rise of Self-Commodification</em> <em>◦ Personal Branding in the Digital Age</em> <em>◦ Monetization of Identity: Social Media and the Gig Economy</em> <em>◦ Time as a Commodity: The Economics of Self</em> <em>3 Impacts on Individual Identity and Well-being</em> <em>◦ The Identity Crisis: Who Are We Beyond the Market?</em> <em>◦ The Psychology of Self-Commodification: Anxiety, Burnout, and Performance</em> <em>Pressure</em> <em>◦ The Sacrifice of Authenticity: Balancing Financial Success with Personal</em> <em>Fulfillment</em> <em>4 The Transformation of Social Relationships</em> <em>◦ The Transactional Nature of Modern Interactions</em> <em>◦ The Impact on Work-Life Balance and Personal Connections</em> <em>◦ Commodification and the Erosion of Genuine Social Bonds</em> <em>5 Cultural and Ethical Considerations</em> <em>◦ Hyper-Capitalism and the Shift in Cultural Values</em> <em>◦ The Ethical Dilemmas of Self-Commodification</em> <em>◦ Long-term Consequences for Society</em> <em>6 Conclusion</em> <em>◦ Summary of Key Findings</em> <em>◦ Reflections on the Future of Self-Commodification</em> <em>◦ Recommendations for Individuals and Society</em> <em>I - Introduction</em> <em>In an era where the boundaries between our personal lives and market forces have blurred, a</em> <em>profound transformation is taking place. We are witnessing the emergence of a new societal</em> <em>paradigm, where individuals increasingly view themselves not just as participants in the</em> <em>economy but as commodities within it. This shift has significant implications for how we</em> <em>perceive our worth, our time, and our relationships.</em> <em>The concept of commodification is not new&mdash;it has long been a fundamental aspect of capitalist</em> <em>societies, where goods and services are produced, exchanged, and consumed based on market</em> <em>value. However, what is novel and increasingly alarming is the extent to which this logic of the</em> <em>market has permeated our very sense of self. Today, people are encouraged to view their skills,</em> <em>identities, and even their personal lives through the lens of marketability. The result is a society</em> <em>where the lines between the personal and the commercial are not just blurred but often</em> <em>indistinguishable.</em> <em>The Rise of Self-Commodification</em> <em>The digital revolution and the rise of social media have accelerated this trend. Platforms like</em> <em>Instagram, YouTube, and LinkedIn have given birth to the concept of personal branding, where</em> <em>individuals curate their online personas to appeal to audiences, employers, or clients. The gig</em> <em>economy, which has grown exponentially in recent years, further reinforces this mindset by</em> <em>promoting flexibility and entrepreneurship. But beneath this veneer of opportunity lies a more</em> <em>troubling reality: the relentless pressure to monetize every aspect of one's life.</em> <em>From influencers monetizing their lifestyles to professionals branding their expertise, the</em> <em>commodification of self has become a pervasive feature of contemporary life. Time, once</em> <em>considered a precious and finite resource, is now often treated as just another commodity to be</em> <em>optimized and sold. People increasingly make decisions based on what pays more, rather than</em> <em>what brings personal satisfaction or fulfillment.</em> <em>Impacts on Individual Identity and Well-being</em> <em>This shift toward self-commodification raises critical questions about identity and well-being. As</em> <em>individuals become more focused on how they are perceived in the marketplace, they may begin</em> <em>to lose sight of who they are beyond these roles. The pressure to constantly perform and optimize</em> <em>can lead to anxiety, burnout, and a deep sense of disconnection from one's true self.</em> <em>The pursuit of financial success and social validation can also come at the cost of authenticity.</em> <em>When every action is measured by its potential market value, personal fulfillment and genuine</em> <em>connections may be sacrificed. The result is a society where people are increasingly alienated</em> <em>from their own identities, constantly adapting to fit the demands of an ever-changing market.</em> <em>The Transformation of Social Relationships</em> <em>The commodification of self does not just affect individuals; it also has profound implications for</em> <em>social relationships. As people begin to view themselves and others as commodities, interactions</em> <em>can become transactional, with relationships evaluated based on their perceived value. This shift</em> <em>can erode the authenticity of social bonds, leading to superficial connections and a diminished</em> <em>sense of community.</em> <em>Work-life balance, once seen as a goal to strive for, is now often sidelined in favor of</em> <em>maximizing productivity and income. The result is a society where personal connections are</em> <em>often secondary to professional achievements, and where the constant pressure to perform leaves</em> <em>little room for genuine human interaction.</em> <em>Cultural and Ethical Considerations</em> <em>The rise of self-commodification is symptomatic of a broader cultural shift towards hypercapitalism,</em> <em>where market logic dominates every aspect of life. This shift has significant ethical</em> <em>implications. It raises questions about the long-term consequences of treating individuals as</em> <em>commodities and the impact of this mindset on societal values and cohesion.</em> <em>As we navigate this new reality, it is crucial to consider the ethical dilemmas posed by selfcommodification.</em> <em>Are we sacrificing our humanity for the sake of market efficiency? What are</em> <em>the long-term consequences of a society that prioritizes profit over personal fulfillment? And</em> <em>how can we strike a balance between the demands of the market and the need for genuine,</em> <em>meaningful lives?</em> <em>Why This White Paper Matters</em> <em>This white paper, "The Commodity Society: Understanding the Self as a Product in a Market-</em> <em>Driven World," delves into these critical questions. It offers a comprehensive exploration of the</em> <em>rise of self-commodification, its impact on identity and well-being, and its broader cultural and</em> <em>ethical implications. Through a nuanced analysis, this paper seeks to illuminate the complex</em> <em>dynamics at play in a society where market forces increasingly shape our lives and identities.</em> <em>Whether you are a professional navigating the gig economy, a social media user cultivating a</em> <em>personal brand, or simply someone concerned about the direction society is heading, this white</em> <em>paper offers valuable insights into the forces shaping our world. It challenges readers to critically</em> <em>examine the impact of commodification on their own lives and encourages a conversation about</em> <em>how we can reclaim our humanity in an increasingly commodified world.</em> <em>II - The Rise of Self-Commodification</em> <em>The concept of commodification, traditionally associated with the transformation of goods and</em> <em>services into marketable items, has taken on a new dimension in the digital age. Today,</em> <em>commodification extends beyond physical products, encompassing the self&mdash;our skills,</em> <em>personalities, time, and even our identities. This shift has profound implications for how we live,</em> <em>work, and perceive our worth in society. The rise of self-commodification is most evident in</em> <em>three key areas: personal branding in the digital age, the monetization of identity through social</em> <em>media and the gig economy, and the treatment of time as a commodity.</em> <em>Personal Branding in the Digital Age</em> <em>The digital age has fundamentally altered how we present ourselves to the world. With the</em> <em>advent of social media, individuals now have the tools to curate their online personas with</em> <em>precision, shaping how they are perceived by others. This phenomenon, known as personal</em> <em>branding, has become a cornerstone of modern life, particularly in professional and creative</em> <em>fields.</em> <em>Personal branding involves crafting a public image that aligns with one's goals, values, and the</em> <em>expectations of their target audience. It is about positioning oneself as a unique "product" in the</em> <em>marketplace, one that offers distinct value and stands out from the competition. Whether</em> <em>consciously or unconsciously, many people engage in personal branding by curating their social</em> <em>media profiles, sharing content that highlights their expertise, and networking strategically to</em> <em>build their reputations.</em> <em>While personal branding can offer significant advantages, such as career advancement and</em> <em>increased visibility, it also comes with challenges. The pressure to maintain a consistent and</em> <em>appealing brand can lead to a loss of authenticity, as individuals may feel compelled to conform</em> <em>to the expectations of their audience rather than express their true selves. This can result in a</em> <em>disconnect between one's public persona and private identity, leading to stress, anxiety, and even</em> <em>burnout.</em> <em>Moreover, the emphasis on personal branding reinforces the idea that one's worth is tied to their</em> <em>marketability. In this context, success is measured by the number of followers, likes, and shares</em> <em>one can accumulate, reducing complex human identities to quantifiable metrics. This shift</em> <em>towards self-commodification not only affects how individuals see themselves but also how they</em> <em>interact with others, fostering a culture of comparison and competition.</em> <em>Monetization of Identity: Social Media and the Gig Economy</em> <em>The rise of social media and the gig economy has further amplified the trend of selfcommodification</em> <em>by providing platforms and opportunities for individuals to monetize their</em> <em>identities. Social media influencers, content creators, and freelancers represent some of the most</em> <em>visible examples of this trend, but it extends to anyone who uses these platforms to generate</em> <em>income.</em> <em>Social media platforms like Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok have created new avenues for</em> <em>people to earn money by sharing their lives, talents, and opinions with a global audience.</em> <em>Influencers, for instance, build their brands around their lifestyles, hobbies, or expertise, and</em> <em>monetize their online presence through sponsorships, affiliate marketing, and ad revenue. In</em> <em>doing so, they turn their identities into marketable products, crafting content that appeals to their</em> <em>followers and attracts commercial partnerships.</em> <em>Similarly, the gig economy encourages individuals to monetize their skills and time in exchange</em> <em>for income. Platforms like Uber, Airbnb, and Fiverr allow people to offer services directly to</em> <em>consumers, often with a focus on flexibility and entrepreneurship. While this model provides</em> <em>opportunities for income generation and independence, it also reinforces the commodification of</em> <em>the self, as individuals must constantly market their skills and adapt to the demands of the</em> <em>market.</em> <em>The monetization of identity has several implications. On one hand, it democratizes</em> <em>opportunities, allowing anyone with internet access to potentially build a brand and generate</em> <em>income. On the other hand, it blurs the line between personal and professional life, leading to a</em> <em>situation where every aspect of one's identity is viewed through the lens of its potential</em> <em>profitability. This can create a constant pressure to be "on-brand" and to produce content or</em> <em>services that align with market trends, often at the expense of personal fulfillment and mental</em> <em>health.</em> <em>Time as a Commodity: The Economics of Self</em> <em>Time, once considered a finite and precious resource, is increasingly viewed as a commodity that</em> <em>can be bought, sold, and optimized for maximum efficiency. This shift is particularly evident in</em> <em>the context of the gig economy, where time is directly tied to income generation. The idea that</em> <em>"time is money" has never been more literal, as individuals are encouraged to spend their time on</em> <em>activities that offer the highest financial return.</em> <em>In this economic model, time is no longer just a resource to be managed&mdash;it is a product to be</em> <em>marketed and sold. People are incentivized to allocate their time in ways that maximize</em> <em>profitability, often leading to a mindset where activities that do not generate income are seen as</em> <em>less valuable or even wasteful. This can result in a skewed perception of time, where leisure,</em> <em>relaxation, and personal pursuits are deprioritized in favor of work and productivity.</em> <em>The commodification of time has significant implications for work-life balance and overall wellbeing.</em> <em>As individuals become more focused on optimizing their time for financial gain, they may</em> <em>find it difficult to disconnect from work and enjoy life outside of their professional roles. This</em> <em>can lead to burnout, stress, and a diminished quality of life, as the constant pursuit of economic</em> <em>efficiency leaves little room for rest and rejuvenation.</em> <em>Furthermore, the emphasis on time as a commodity reinforces the idea that one's value is tied to</em> <em>their productivity. This mindset can lead to feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt, particularly</em> <em>when individuals are unable to meet the high demands placed on their time. It also perpetuates a</em> <em>culture of hustle, where working long hours and sacrificing personal time are seen as badges of</em> <em>honor, rather than as signs of an unsustainable lifestyle.</em> <em>In summary, the rise of self-commodification in the digital age has profound implications for</em> <em>how we perceive ourselves and our time. Personal branding, the monetization of identity, and the</em> <em>treatment of time as a commodity are all manifestations of a broader societal trend where</em> <em>individuals are increasingly viewed&mdash;and view themselves&mdash;as marketable products. While these</em> <em>developments offer opportunities for income generation and visibility, they also come with</em> <em>significant challenges, particularly in terms of authenticity, well-being, and work-life balance. As</em> <em>we navigate this new reality, it is crucial to critically examine the impact of self-commodification</em> <em>on our identities, relationships, and overall quality of life.</em> <em>III - Impacts on Individual Identity and Well-being</em> <em>As the trend of self-commodification intensifies, the impacts on individual identity and wellbeing</em> <em>become increasingly evident. When people begin to see themselves primarily as</em> <em>marketable entities, significant shifts occur in how they perceive their worth, purpose, and</em> <em>happiness. This section explores the deep-seated consequences of self-commodification, focusing</em> <em>on three key areas: the identity crisis that arises when individuals lose sight of who they are</em> <em>beyond the market, the psychological toll of self-commodification in the form of anxiety,</em> <em>burnout, and performance pressure, and the challenge of balancing financial success with</em> <em>personal fulfillment without sacrificing authenticity.</em> <em>The Identity Crisis: Who Are We Beyond the Market?</em> <em>In a world where marketability often defines value, the question of identity becomes increasingly</em> <em>complex. When people continuously shape their lives around the demands and expectations of</em> <em>the market&mdash;whether through personal branding, gig work, or social media presence&mdash;they risk</em> <em>losing touch with their intrinsic values and sense of self. This phenomenon leads to what can be</em> <em>described as an identity crisis, where individuals struggle to understand who they are beyond</em> <em>their market roles.</em> <em>Traditionally, identity has been shaped by a combination of personal experiences, relationships,</em> <em>cultural influences, and self-reflection. However, in a commodified society, these factors are</em> <em>increasingly overshadowed by market forces. The need to constantly present oneself as valuable</em> <em>in the eyes of employers, clients, or audiences can lead to a fragmented sense of self, where one's</em> <em>identity is no longer a cohesive whole but a series of market-driven personas.</em> <em>This identity crisis is exacerbated by the pressure to maintain a consistent and appealing public</em> <em>image, especially on social media. The curated nature of online personas often means that</em> <em>individuals feel compelled to present a version of themselves that aligns with market trends or</em> <em>societal expectations, rather than one that reflects their true selves. Over time, this can result in a</em> <em>disconnect between one's public identity and private reality, leading to confusion, dissatisfaction,</em> <em>and a sense of alienation.</em> <em>Furthermore, the commodification of self can lead to a reliance on external validation for selfworth.</em> <em>When success is measured by metrics like followers, likes, or income, individuals may</em> <em>find themselves constantly seeking approval from others, rather than cultivating a strong internal</em> <em>sense of identity. This external focus can erode self-confidence and leave individuals feeling</em> <em>ungrounded and unsure of who they are when stripped of their market roles.</em> <em>The Psychology of Self-Commodification: Anxiety, Burnout, and Performance Pressure</em> <em>The psychological toll of self-commodification is significant, manifesting in various forms of</em> <em>mental and emotional distress. As individuals become more focused on their market value, they</em> <em>often experience heightened levels of anxiety, burnout, and performance pressure. These issues</em> <em>are particularly prevalent in environments where constant productivity and public performance</em> <em>are required, such as in the gig economy or among social media influencers.</em> <em>Anxiety is a common byproduct of self-commodification, driven by the relentless need to meet</em> <em>market demands and maintain a favorable public image. The pressure to constantly produce</em> <em>content, achieve goals, and optimize one's time can create a pervasive sense of unease and worry.</em> <em>Individuals may fear failure, rejection, or obsolescence, leading to chronic stress and a</em> <em>heightened state of alertness that can be mentally and physically exhausting.</em> <em>Burnout is another consequence of the commodification of self, particularly for those who</em> <em>engage in gig work or maintain a strong online presence. The lack of clear boundaries between</em> <em>personal and professional life can lead to overwork and a constant feeling of being "on." This</em> <em>continuous engagement, coupled with the need to remain competitive in a crowded marketplace,</em> <em>can deplete individuals' energy and enthusiasm, ultimately leading to burnout&mdash;a state of</em> <em>emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion that diminishes one's ability to function effectively.</em> <em>Performance pressure is also a significant issue, as individuals are often expected to deliver</em> <em>consistent, high-quality results to maintain their market value. This pressure can manifest in</em> <em>various ways, including the need to meet tight deadlines, the expectation to constantly innovate,</em> <em>and the requirement to maintain a flawless public image. Over time, this relentless focus on</em> <em>performance can lead to feelings of inadequacy, as individuals may feel that they are never doing</em> <em>enough or that their efforts are never quite good enough.</em> <em>The combination of anxiety, burnout, and performance pressure creates a challenging</em> <em>psychological environment that can have long-term consequences for mental health. Individuals</em> <em>may experience symptoms of depression, develop unhealthy coping mechanisms, or become</em> <em>disengaged from their work and personal lives. The focus on market success can also lead to a</em> <em>neglect of self-care, further exacerbating these issues.</em> <em>The Sacrifice of Authenticity: Balancing Financial Success with Personal Fulfillment</em> <em>One of the most profound challenges of self-commodification is the potential sacrifice of</em> <em>authenticity in the pursuit of financial success. In a commodified society, individuals are often</em> <em>incentivized to prioritize marketability over personal fulfillment, leading to decisions and</em> <em>behaviors that may not align with their true values or desires. This can create a tension between</em> <em>the need to succeed financially and the desire to live an authentic, meaningful life.</em> <em>Authenticity, at its core, involves being true to oneself&mdash;living in a way that reflects one's values,</em> <em>beliefs, and identity. However, in a market-driven world, authenticity can be difficult to</em> <em>maintain. The pressure to conform to market expectations, whether in terms of personal</em> <em>branding, career choices, or social behavior, can lead individuals to compromise their</em> <em>authenticity in favor of financial gain or social approval.</em> <em>For example, an individual might choose a career path or project that offers lucrative</em> <em>opportunities but does not align with their passions or values. Similarly, someone might present a</em> <em>carefully curated version of themselves on social media to attract followers or clients, even if it</em> <em>does not accurately represent who they are. Over time, these compromises can erode one's sense</em> <em>of authenticity, leading to feelings of disillusionment, frustration, and dissatisfaction.</em> <em>Balancing financial success with personal fulfillment requires a conscious effort to stay true to</em> <em>oneself, even in the face of market pressures. This might involve making difficult choices, such</em> <em>as turning down lucrative opportunities that do not align with one's values, or setting boundaries</em> <em>to protect personal time and well-being. It also requires a willingness to accept that financial</em> <em>success does not necessarily equate to happiness or fulfillment.</em> <em>The sacrifice of authenticity can have far-reaching consequences for well-being. Individuals who</em> <em>consistently prioritize marketability over authenticity may find themselves feeling disconnected</em> <em>from their true selves, leading to a loss of meaning and purpose in their lives. They may also</em> <em>struggle with feelings of regret or self-doubt, as they question whether their decisions have been</em> <em>driven by their true desires or by external pressures.</em> <em>To maintain a sense of authenticity in a commodified world, it is essential to cultivate selfawareness</em> <em>and a strong sense of identity. This involves regularly reflecting on one's values,</em> <em>goals, and motivations, and making intentional choices that align with these. It also requires a</em> <em>commitment to self-care and well-being, recognizing that personal fulfillment is just as important</em> <em>&mdash;if not more so&mdash;than financial success.</em> <em>In conclusion, the impacts of self-commodification on individual identity and well-being are</em> <em>profound and multifaceted. The identity crisis that arises from viewing oneself primarily as a</em> <em>marketable entity, the psychological toll of anxiety, burnout, and performance pressure, and the</em> <em>challenge of balancing financial success with authenticity all highlight the complexities of living</em> <em>in a commodified society. As we navigate this new reality, it is crucial to critically examine the</em> <em>choices we make and to strive for a balance that allows us to live authentically while also</em> <em>meeting the demands of the market.</em> <em>VI - The Transformation of Social Relationships</em> <em>The rise of self-commodification and the increasing market-driven focus of society have</em> <em>significantly transformed social relationships. What were once authentic, personal interactions</em> <em>are now often infused with transactional undertones, where the value of relationships is assessed</em> <em>in terms of economic or social capital. This shift has far-reaching implications for work-life</em> <em>balance, personal connections, and the integrity of social bonds. This section explores the</em> <em>transformation of social relationships in three key areas: the growing transactional nature of</em> <em>modern interactions, the impact on work-life balance and personal connections, and the</em> <em>commodification that threatens to erode genuine social bonds.</em> <em>The Transactional Nature of Modern Interactions</em> <em>In today's commodified society, social interactions are increasingly viewed through a</em> <em>transactional lens. The notion of "networking" has become a dominant force in both professional</em> <em>and personal spheres, where relationships are often formed and maintained based on their</em> <em>potential to provide economic or social benefits. This transactional approach to relationships,</em> <em>while effective in certain contexts, can strip interactions of their emotional depth and</em> <em>authenticity.</em> <em>This shift towards transactional relationships is particularly evident in the workplace. Colleagues</em> <em>often interact with one another based on what they can gain from the relationship, whether it be</em> <em>career advancement, information, or influence. The concept of "professional networking"</em> <em>reinforces this mentality, as individuals seek to build connections that can further their careers</em> <em>rather than forge genuine bonds. As a result, workplace relationships may become superficial,</em> <em>driven more by strategic interests than by mutual respect and understanding.</em> <em>The transactional nature of relationships extends beyond the workplace into personal lives as</em> <em>well. Social media, for example, has blurred the lines between personal and professional</em> <em>relationships, turning interactions into opportunities for self-promotion and brand building. The</em> <em>pressure to maintain a certain image or gain social capital can lead to interactions that are more</em> <em>performative than genuine, where the goal is to increase followers, likes, or shares rather than to</em> <em>engage in meaningful connections.</em> <em>This transactional approach can lead to a sense of detachment and alienation, as individuals may</em> <em>feel that their value is contingent upon what they can offer others rather than who they are. It can</em> <em>also create an environment where relationships are easily disposable, as connections are only</em> <em>maintained as long as they are beneficial. This undermines the development of deep, lasting</em> <em>relationships based on trust, loyalty, and mutual support.</em> <em>The Impact on Work-Life Balance and Personal Connections</em> <em>The commodification of self and the transactional nature of modern relationships have also had a</em> <em>profound impact on work-life balance and personal connections. The blurring of boundaries</em> <em>between work and personal life, driven by the gig economy and the demands of constant online</em> <em>presence, has made it increasingly difficult for individuals to maintain a healthy separation</em> <em>between their professional and personal selves.</em> <em>In many cases, work has become all-encompassing, with personal time being sacrificed in the</em> <em>pursuit of economic success or social recognition. The expectation to be constantly available,</em> <em>whether through email, social media, or gig platforms, has led to the erosion of personal time and</em> <em>space. This can result in strained personal relationships, as individuals may struggle to find time</em> <em>to connect with family and friends or to engage in activities that bring them joy and fulfillment.</em> <em>Moreover, the emphasis on productivity and marketability can lead to a diminished quality of</em> <em>personal connections. When interactions are primarily driven by professional or social goals, the</em> <em>depth of personal relationships may suffer. Conversations may become more focused on workrelated</em> <em>topics or self-promotion rather than on shared experiences or emotional support. Over</em> <em>time, this can weaken the bonds between individuals, leading to a sense of isolation and</em> <em>disconnection.</em> <em>The impact on work-life balance is particularly pronounced for those engaged in gig work or</em> <em>who rely on personal branding for income. The lack of clear boundaries between work and</em> <em>personal life in these contexts can make it difficult to disconnect and recharge. This constant</em> <em>engagement can lead to burnout and a sense of being overwhelmed, as individuals may feel that</em> <em>they are never truly "off the clock." The resulting stress and exhaustion can further strain</em> <em>personal relationships, as individuals may have less energy and emotional capacity to invest in</em> <em>their personal lives.</em> <em>To maintain a healthy work-life balance and nurture personal connections, it is essential for</em> <em>individuals to set boundaries and prioritize time for themselves and their loved ones. This might</em> <em>involve scheduling regular breaks, limiting the use of technology during personal time, and</em> <em>making a conscious effort to engage in activities that promote relaxation and well-being. It also</em> <em>requires a recognition of the importance of personal relationships and the need to invest time and</em> <em>energy into building and maintaining them, even in the face of professional pressures.</em> <em>Commodification and the Erosion of Genuine Social Bonds</em> <em>The commodification of relationships, where interactions are increasingly driven by economic or</em> <em>social gain, threatens to erode the foundation of genuine social bonds. Relationships that are</em> <em>formed or maintained primarily for their market value lack the emotional depth and authenticity</em> <em>that characterize true friendships or close family ties. As a result, the social fabric that holds</em> <em>communities together may begin to fray, leading to a loss of trust, empathy, and solidarity.</em> <em>One of the most concerning aspects of this trend is the potential for social bonds to be reduced to</em> <em>mere transactions. In a commodified society, individuals may begin to view others primarily in</em> <em>terms of what they can offer&mdash;whether it be financial support, professional connections, or social</em> <em>status&mdash;rather than as fellow human beings with whom they share common experiences and</em> <em>emotions. This transactional approach can lead to a dehumanization of relationships, where the</em> <em>intrinsic value of individuals is overshadowed by their market value.</em> <em>The erosion of genuine social bonds is also evident in the way that social media and other digital</em> <em>platforms have transformed communication. While these platforms offer unprecedented</em> <em>opportunities for connection, they also encourage a performative approach to relationships,</em> <em>where individuals present a curated version of themselves to gain approval or recognition. This</em> <em>can lead to a superficiality in interactions, where the focus is on maintaining a certain image</em> <em>rather than on fostering authentic connections.</em> <em>As genuine social bonds weaken, the sense of community and belonging that is essential for</em> <em>individual and collective well-being may also diminish. Individuals may feel increasingly</em> <em>isolated, as their relationships lack the depth and support needed to navigate the challenges of</em> <em>life. This isolation can lead to feelings of loneliness, depression, and anxiety, further</em> <em>exacerbating the negative impacts of self-commodification.</em> <em>To counteract the erosion of genuine social bonds, it is important to cultivate relationships that</em> <em>are based on mutual respect, empathy, and shared values. This involves making a conscious</em> <em>effort to connect with others on a deeper level, beyond the superficial or transactional aspects of</em> <em>the relationship. It also requires a commitment to authenticity in interactions, where individuals</em> <em>feel free to be themselves and to express their true thoughts and emotions.</em> <em>Moreover, fostering a sense of community and belonging is crucial in a commodified society.</em> <em>This can be achieved by creating spaces&mdash;both physical and virtual&mdash;where individuals can</em> <em>come together to share experiences, support one another, and build meaningful connections. By</em> <em>prioritizing genuine social bonds over transactional relationships, individuals can create a more</em> <em>supportive and resilient social fabric that enhances well-being and fosters a sense of collective</em> <em>identity.</em> <em>In conclusion, the transformation of social relationships in a commodified society presents</em> <em>significant challenges to work-life balance, personal connections, and the integrity of social</em> <em>bonds. The shift towards transactional interactions, the blurring of boundaries between work and</em> <em>personal life, and the erosion of genuine relationships all highlight the complexities of navigating</em> <em>social relationships in a market-driven world. As individuals and communities, it is essential to</em> <em>critically examine these trends and to take intentional steps to preserve the authenticity and depth</em> <em>of our social bonds. By doing so, we can create a more balanced, connected, and fulfilling social</em> <em>environment.</em> <em>VI - Cultural and Ethical Considerations</em> <em>The rise of self-commodification and the pervasive influence of market-driven logic in personal</em> <em>and social life have profound cultural and ethical implications. As individuals increasingly view</em> <em>themselves as products or services, cultural values and ethical norms are being reshaped in ways</em> <em>that affect not only individual identity and well-being but also the fabric of society. This section</em> <em>explores the cultural and ethical considerations of self-commodification, focusing on the shift in</em> <em>cultural values driven by hyper-capitalism, the ethical dilemmas that arise from selfcommodification,</em> <em>and the long-term consequences for society.</em> <em>Hyper-Capitalism and the Shift in Cultural Values</em> <em>Hyper-capitalism, characterized by the relentless pursuit of profit and the commodification of</em> <em>nearly every aspect of life, has significantly altered cultural values. In this environment, success</em> <em>is often measured by economic achievement, social status, and personal brand value, leading to a</em> <em>culture where material wealth and outward appearances take precedence over intrinsic values</em> <em>like authenticity, empathy, and community.</em> <em>One of the most significant cultural shifts driven by hyper-capitalism is the emphasis on</em> <em>individualism and self-promotion. The idea that "you are your brand" encourages people to</em> <em>constantly curate their public personas, presenting themselves in ways that are marketable and</em> <em>appealing to others. This focus on personal branding has permeated various aspects of life, from</em> <em>career development to social media interactions, where individuals are incentivized to craft and</em> <em>maintain images that align with societal expectations of success.</em> <em>This shift towards individualism and self-promotion often comes at the expense of communal</em> <em>values and collective well-being. In a hyper-capitalist society, the pursuit of personal gain can</em> <em>overshadow the importance of social responsibility, cooperation, and solidarity. This can lead to</em> <em>a fragmented society where individuals prioritize their own success over the needs and wellbeing</em> <em>of others.</em> <em>Moreover, the commodification of self has contributed to the rise of consumer culture, where</em> <em>identities are increasingly shaped by consumption patterns. People are encouraged to define</em> <em>themselves through the products they buy, the brands they associate with, and the lifestyles they</em> <em>promote. This consumer-oriented culture not only reinforces materialistic values but also</em> <em>perpetuates the idea that personal worth is tied to one's ability to consume and display wealth.</em> <em>The cultural shift towards hyper-capitalism and self-commodification has also impacted the way</em> <em>people perceive time and relationships. Time is increasingly seen as a commodity to be</em> <em>optimized for maximum productivity and profit, rather than as a resource for personal growth,</em> <em>leisure, and meaningful connections. Relationships, too, are often evaluated in terms of their</em> <em>utility and potential benefits, leading to a transactional approach to social interactions.</em> <em>The Ethical Dilemmas of Self-Commodification</em> <em>The commodification of self raises a number of ethical dilemmas, particularly concerning</em> <em>autonomy, exploitation, and the preservation of human dignity. As individuals increasingly</em> <em>market themselves as products or services, the boundaries between personal agency and</em> <em>economic necessity become blurred, leading to complex ethical questions.</em> <em>One of the primary ethical concerns is the potential for self-commodification to undermine</em> <em>personal autonomy. In a market-driven society, individuals may feel compelled to conform to</em> <em>certain standards or behaviors in order to be marketable, even if these standards conflict with</em> <em>their personal values or desires. This pressure to conform can limit personal freedom and</em> <em>creativity, as people may prioritize marketability over authenticity.</em> <em>Another ethical dilemma arises from the potential for exploitation in the process of selfcommodification.</em> <em>Individuals who market themselves, especially through gig work or personal</em> <em>branding, may face significant pressure to constantly perform and deliver, often without adequate</em> <em>compensation or job security. This can lead to a form of self-exploitation, where people push</em> <em>themselves to their limits in order to succeed in a highly competitive market.</em> <em>The gig economy, in particular, highlights the ethical challenges of self-commodification.</em> <em>Workers in this sector often have little control over their working conditions and may be subject</em> <em>to the whims of market demand. The lack of job stability, benefits, and protections can leave gig</em> <em>workers vulnerable to exploitation, as they are forced to continuously market themselves and</em> <em>compete for opportunities in an increasingly precarious labor market.</em> <em>Furthermore, the ethical implications of self-commodification extend to the preservation of</em> <em>human dignity. When individuals are viewed primarily as commodities, their intrinsic worth as</em> <em>human beings can be overshadowed by their market value. This commodification of identity can</em> <em>lead to a dehumanization of individuals, where they are valued more for what they can produce</em> <em>or sell rather than for who they are.</em> <em>The ethical dilemmas of self-commodification also raise questions about the responsibility of</em> <em>society to protect individuals from the negative consequences of this trend. There is a need for</em> <em>ethical frameworks and policies that prioritize human well-being and dignity over market-driven</em> <em>imperatives. This might include regulations to ensure fair labor practices in the gig economy,</em> <em>protections against exploitation in the workplace, and initiatives to promote work-life balance</em> <em>and mental health.</em> <em>Long-term Consequences for Society</em> <em>The long-term consequences of self-commodification and the cultural shift towards hypercapitalism</em> <em>are profound and far-reaching. These trends not only impact individual identity and</em> <em>well-being but also have significant implications for the social, economic, and political fabric of</em> <em>society.</em> <em>One of the most concerning long-term consequences is the potential for increased social</em> <em>inequality. As individuals are encouraged to compete in a market-driven society, those with more</em> <em>resources, opportunities, and social capital are likely to succeed, while those with fewer</em> <em>advantages may struggle to keep up. This can lead to a widening gap between the "winners" and</em> <em>"losers" of the market, exacerbating existing inequalities and creating new forms of social</em> <em>stratification.</em> <em>The commodification of self also has implications for social cohesion and trust. In a society</em> <em>where relationships are increasingly transactional and individuals are valued primarily for their</em> <em>marketability, the sense of community and solidarity that is essential for social stability may</em> <em>erode. This can lead to a fragmented society where individuals are isolated, disconnected, and</em> <em>less likely to cooperate for the common good.</em> <em>Moreover, the focus on individual success and personal branding can undermine the collective</em> <em>action needed to address broader social issues. When individuals are primarily concerned with</em> <em>their own marketability and success, they may be less likely to engage in efforts to promote</em> <em>social justice, environmental sustainability, or other collective goals. This can hinder progress on</em> <em>important societal issues and perpetuate systems of inequality and exploitation.</em> <em>The long-term consequences of self-commodification also include potential impacts on mental</em> <em>health and well-being. The pressure to constantly market oneself and compete in a hypercapitalist</em> <em>society can lead to chronic stress, anxiety, and burnout. Over time, this can have</em> <em>serious consequences for both individuals and society, as mental health issues become more</em> <em>prevalent and the capacity for creativity, innovation, and resilience diminishes.</em> <em>To mitigate the long-term consequences of self-commodification, it is essential to promote</em> <em>cultural values and ethical norms that prioritize human dignity, well-being, and social justice.</em> <em>This might involve challenging the dominant narratives of hyper-capitalism, promoting</em> <em>alternative models of success that are not solely based on economic achievement, and fostering a</em> <em>culture of empathy, cooperation, and community.</em> <em>In conclusion, the cultural and ethical considerations of self-commodification highlight the</em> <em>complex and multifaceted nature of this trend. While self-commodification can offer</em> <em>opportunities for economic success and personal growth, it also raises significant challenges for</em> <em>individual identity, social relationships, and societal well-being. By critically examining these</em> <em>cultural and ethical implications, we can begin to develop strategies to navigate the complexities</em> <em>of a market-driven world while preserving the values and principles that are essential for a just</em> <em>and humane society.</em> <em>VII - Conclusion</em> <em>Summary of Key Findings</em> <em>The exploration of self-commodification reveals a complex interplay between personal identity,</em> <em>societal values, and the demands of a market-driven economy. In the digital age, individuals</em> <em>increasingly view themselves as commodities, driven by the pressures of personal branding, the</em> <em>monetization of identity, and the commodification of time. This trend has profound implications</em> <em>for how we perceive ourselves and interact with others, leading to significant impacts on</em> <em>individual well-being, social relationships, and cultural values.</em> <em>Key findings include:</em> <em>1 The Rise of Self-Commodification: Individuals are increasingly compelled to market</em> <em>themselves as products or services, driven by the demands of the gig economy, social</em> <em>media, and the broader economic environment. This has led to the blurring of boundaries</em> <em>between personal and professional identities, as well as a shift in how people value their</em> <em>time and skills.</em> <em>2 Impacts on Identity and Well-being: The pressures of self-commodification can lead to</em> <em>identity crises, where individuals struggle to reconcile their authentic selves with their</em> <em>marketable personas. This often results in psychological distress, including anxiety,</em> <em>burnout, and performance pressure, as individuals strive to meet the demands of a</em> <em>commodified existence.</em> <em>3 Transformation of Social Relationships: Social interactions have become increasingly</em> <em>transactional, with personal connections often evaluated based on their utility or potential</em> <em>benefits. This shift has contributed to the erosion of genuine social bonds, negatively</em> <em>affecting work-life balance and personal relationships.</em> <em>4 Cultural and Ethical Considerations: Hyper-capitalism has reshaped cultural values,</em> <em>prioritizing individualism, materialism, and self-promotion over communal values and</em> <em>collective well-being. The ethical dilemmas of self-commodification, including</em> <em>exploitation and the dehumanization of individuals, pose significant challenges for</em> <em>society.</em> <em>Reflections on the Future of Self-Commodification</em> <em>The trend of self-commodification is likely to continue as digital platforms, the gig economy, and</em> <em>market-driven ideologies exert increasing influence on individual and collective life. However,</em> <em>the future of self-commodification will depend on how society navigates the associated</em> <em>challenges and opportunities.</em> <em>As technology advances, the tools and platforms for self-promotion and monetization will</em> <em>become more sophisticated, potentially exacerbating the pressures on individuals to commodify</em> <em>themselves. At the same time, there may be a growing awareness of the negative impacts of selfcommodification,</em> <em>leading to a push for more balanced and humane approaches to personal and</em> <em>professional life.</em> <em>The future will also likely see a tension between the forces of hyper-capitalism and emerging</em> <em>movements that prioritize sustainability, mental health, and social justice. These movements may</em> <em>advocate for alternative models of success and fulfillment that are not solely based on economic</em> <em>achievement or marketability.</em> <em>Recommendations for Individuals and Society</em> <em>To address the challenges of self-commodification and promote a more just and humane society,</em> <em>the following recommendations are proposed:</em> <em>1 For Individuals:</em> <em>◦ Cultivate Self-Awareness: Individuals should critically assess the impact of selfcommodification</em> <em>on their identity and well-being. By developing self-awareness,</em> <em>people can make more conscious choices about how they present themselves and</em> <em>prioritize activities that align with their authentic values and desires.</em> <em>◦ Seek Balance: Strive to balance financial success with personal fulfillment and</em> <em>well-being. This may involve setting boundaries between personal and</em> <em>professional life, engaging in activities that nurture the soul, and prioritizing</em> <em>relationships that are not solely transactional.</em> <em>◦ Promote Authenticity: Embrace authenticity in personal branding and social</em> <em>interactions. By being true to oneself, individuals can resist the pressures to</em> <em>conform to market-driven standards and foster more meaningful connections with</em> <em>others.</em> <em>2 For Society:</em> <em>◦ Promote Ethical Standards: Society should develop and enforce ethical</em> <em>standards that protect individuals from exploitation and dehumanization in the</em> <em>process of self-commodification. This includes ensuring fair labor practices,</em> <em>promoting mental health, and protecting personal privacy in digital spaces.</em> <em>◦ Encourage Cultural Shift: There is a need to challenge the dominant narratives</em> <em>of hyper-capitalism and promote cultural values that prioritize community,</em> <em>empathy, and social responsibility. This may involve supporting movements that</em> <em>advocate for work-life balance, mental health awareness, and social justice.</em> <em>◦ Foster Education and Awareness: Educational institutions and organizations</em> <em>should raise awareness about the impacts of self-commodification and provide</em> <em>individuals with the tools to navigate the complexities of a market-driven world.</em> <em>This includes teaching critical thinking, media literacy, and ethical decisionmaking.</em> <em>In conclusion, while self-commodification presents both opportunities and challenges, it is</em> <em>essential to approach this trend with a critical and ethical mindset. By prioritizing human dignity,</em> <em>well-being, and social justice, individuals and society can navigate the complexities of the</em> <em>modern world while preserving the values that are essential for a just and humane society.</em> <em>Ramy Ayoub </em><em>presents "The Commodity Society." It suggests an exploration of how individuals</em> <em>in modern society increasingly view themselves as products or services to be marketed,</em> <em>optimized, and sold. This is the central theme of this white paper, examining the psychological</em> <em>and social implications of such a mindset.</em> <em>Expanded Themes and Topics:</em> <em>1 Self-commodification:</em> <em>◦ Personal Branding: Explore how the rise of social media and the gig economy</em> <em>has led people to brand themselves, focusing on how they can market their skills,</em> <em>personality, and even physical appearance.</em> <em>◦ Monetization of Identity: Discuss how people are encouraged to turn every</em> <em>aspect of their lives into marketable content, from hobbies to relationships, with</em> <em>platforms offering monetization opportunities for personal activities.</em> <em>2 Time as a Commodity:</em> <em>◦ The Economics of Time: Analyze how people increasingly view their time as a</em> <em>commodity, making decisions based on what activities yield the highest financial</em> <em>return rather than personal satisfaction or well-being.</em> <em>◦ Work-Life Balance: Consider the impact of this mindset on work-life balance,</em> <em>with people often prioritizing work that pays over personal or leisure activities,</em> <em>leading to burnout and a diminished sense of self.</em> <em>3 The Gig Economy and Freelance Culture:</em> <em>◦ Short-term vs. Long-term Gains: Examine how the gig economy encourages</em> <em>people to focus on short-term financial gains, often at the expense of long-term</em> <em>stability or personal fulfillment.</em> <em>◦ The Service Mindset: Discuss how individuals increasingly see themselves as</em> <em>service providers, constantly seeking ways to offer value to others in exchange for</em> <em>money, rather than pursuing activities for intrinsic enjoyment.</em> <em>4 Psychological and Social Impact:</em> <em>◦ Identity Crisis: Investigate the potential psychological consequences of selfcommodification,</em> <em>such as identity confusion, anxiety, and the pressure to</em> <em>constantly 'perform' or 'produce.'</em> <em>◦ Social Relationships: Explore how viewing oneself as a commodity might affect</em> <em>personal relationships, with interactions becoming transactional and based on</em> <em>perceived value rather than genuine connection.</em> <em>5 Cultural and Ethical Considerations:</em> <em>◦ Cultural Shifts: Discuss how this trend reflects broader cultural shifts towards</em> <em>hyper-capitalism and individualism, where success is often measured by financial</em> <em>and market metrics.</em> <em>◦ Ethical Implications: Consider the ethical questions surrounding selfcommodification,</em> <em>such as the exploitation of self and others, and the impact on</em> <em>societal values and cohesion.</em> <em>My Thoughts:</em> <em>This approach makes "The Commodity Society" a compelling and critical examination of how</em> <em>economic principles have permeated even our sense of self and personal worth. It brings a fresh</em> <em>perspective to the discussion by highlighting the ways people are influenced to see themselves</em> <em>not just as participants in the market, but as products within it.</em> <em>Such a white paper would resonate with many readers, particularly those concerned with the</em> <em>psychological, social, and ethical implications of living in a hyper-commercialized world. It</em> <em>could offer valuable insights and provoke thought on how to balance financial success with</em> <em>personal well-being and authenticity.</em> <em>Context</em> <em>In today&rsquo;s hyper-connected, fast-paced world, the lines between our personal and professional</em> <em>lives are becoming increasingly blurred. This phenomenon is largely driven by the pervasive</em> <em>influence of digital technology, social media, and the gig economy. People are no longer just</em> <em>participants in the market&mdash;they are products within it. The value of time, identity, and even</em> <em>relationships is increasingly measured in terms of their marketability and potential for profit.</em> <em>The rise of personal branding, the relentless pursuit of monetization, and the commodification of</em> <em>self have transformed the way we live, work, and perceive our worth. Individuals now find</em> <em>themselves constantly optimizing their lives to fit the demands of a market-driven society. This</em> <em>white paper aims to explore the profound implications of this shift, examining how the</em> <em>commodification of the self affects our identity, well-being, and social relationships.</em> <em>Appendices</em> <em>Appendix A: Glossary of Terms</em> <em>1. Self-Commodification: The process by which individuals treat themselves as commodities or</em> <em>products to be marketed, sold, or exchanged, often driven by market dynamics and personal</em> <em>branding.</em> <em>2. Hyper-Capitalism: An economic system characterized by extreme market-driven practices</em> <em>and values, where profit and market efficiency are prioritized above other considerations.</em> <em>3. Personal Branding: The practice of creating and maintaining a public image or reputation,</em> <em>often for the purpose of enhancing career opportunities and personal success.</em> <em>4. Gig Economy: A labor market characterized by short-term, flexible jobs or freelance work,</em> <em>typically facilitated through digital platforms.</em> <em>5. Transactional Relationships: Interactions between individuals that are primarily driven by</em> <em>the potential for mutual gain or benefit, rather than genuine personal connection.</em> <em>6. Authenticity: The quality of being genuine, true to oneself, and not influenced by external</em> <em>pressures or expectations.</em> <em>7. Mental Health: A state of emotional, psychological, and social well-being in which</em> <em>individuals are able to cope with stress, work productively, and contribute to their community.</em> <em>Appendix B: Case Studies</em> <em>1. Case Study 1: The Impact of Social Media on Personal Branding</em> <em>This case study examines the role of social media in shaping personal branding and selfcommodification.</em> <em>It explores how individuals use social media platforms to build their public</em> <em>image, the pressures associated with maintaining an online persona, and the effects on mental</em> <em>health and personal relationships.</em> <em>2. Case Study 2: The Gig Economy and Work-Life Balance</em> <em>This case study investigates the impact of the gig economy on work-life balance and personal</em> <em>connections. It highlights the experiences of gig workers, the challenges of managing flexible</em> <em>work arrangements, and the implications for social interactions and personal well-being.</em> <em>3. Case Study 3: The Erosion of Authenticity in Professional Environments</em> <em>This case study explores the phenomenon of self-commodification in professional environments,</em> <em>focusing on how individuals navigate the tension between authenticity and marketability. It</em> <em>examines the effects on job satisfaction, career development, and interpersonal relationships.</em> <em>Appendix C: Resources and Further Reading</em> <em>1. Books</em> <em>&bull; "The Self-Compassionate Workbook: A Practical Guide to Self-Acceptance" by Christine</em> <em>Neff</em> <em>&bull; "Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World" by Cal Newport</em> <em>&bull; "The Attention Merchants: The Epic Scramble to Get Inside Our Heads" by Tim Wu</em> <em>2. Articles and Papers</em> <em>&bull; "The Commodification of Self: How Personal Branding Shapes Our Identities" by Smith</em> <em>et al., Journal of Marketing Research, 2021</em> <em>&bull; "The Gig Economy: Implications for Work-Life Balance and Social Connections" by</em> <em>Johnson, Labor Studies Journal, 2020</em> <em>&bull; "Navigating Authenticity in the Age of Hyper-Capitalism" by Brown, Sociology of Work</em> <em>Review, 2019</em> <em>3. Online Resources</em> <em>&bull; The Center for Humane Technology: </em><em>www.humanetech.com</em> <em>&bull; The American Psychological Association's Resources on Stress and Burnout:</em> <em>www.apa.org/topics/stress</em> <em>&bull; The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI): </em><em>www.nami.org</em> <em>Appendix D: Methodology</em> <em>1. Research Methods</em> <em>This white paper is based on a comprehensive review of existing literature, case studies, and</em> <em>expert interviews. The research methodology includes qualitative and quantitative approaches to</em> <em>analyze the effects of self-commodification on individual identity, social relationships, and</em> <em>cultural values.</em> <em>2. Data Sources</em> <em>Data sources for this white paper include academic journals, industry reports, surveys, and</em> <em>interviews with professionals in relevant fields such as marketing, psychology, and sociology.</em> <em>The research also draws on real-world examples and case studies to illustrate key findings and</em> <em>trends.</em> <em>3. Limitations</em> <em>The research is limited by the availability of up-to-date data and the evolving nature of selfcommodification</em> <em>trends. Future studies may build on this work by incorporating more recent</em> <em>data, exploring emerging trends, and conducting longitudinal analyses to assess long-term</em> <em>impacts.</em> <em>Appendix E: Acknowledgments</em> <em>1. Contributors</em> <em>This white paper was developed with contributions from various experts and practitioners in the</em> <em>fields of marketing, psychology, sociology, and business. Special thanks to the following</em> <em>individuals for their insights and support:</em> <em>&bull; Dr. Jane Smith, Professor of Marketing, University of XYZ</em> <em>&bull; Dr. Michael Johnson, Clinical Psychologist, ABC Mental Health Clinic</em> <em>&bull; Sarah Brown, Researcher in Sociology, DEF Research Institute</em> <em>2. Funding</em> <em>The development of this white paper was supported by a grant from the AKFI Association,</em> <em>which provided funding for research and data collection. We also acknowledge the support of</em> <em>NYC360 INC. for facilitating expert interviews and access to resources.</em> &nbsp;
APA, Harvard, Vancouver, ISO, and other styles
We offer discounts on all premium plans for authors whose works are included in thematic literature selections. Contact us to get a unique promo code!

To the bibliography