Journal articles: 'The Swedish private road association' – Grafiati (2024)

Abstract:

Unit costs for low-volume road construction and maintenance are low compared with those for higher-level roads. The problem is that in many countries this network is vast, and the total cost requirements to ensure minimum access are enormous. This problem is a particular challenge in developing countries where more than two-thirds of the poor reside in rural areas. The option of private ownership and financing of low-volume roads is proposed. It is argued that the Swedish model for low-volume road management and financing is simple and efficient and can easily be adapted to a variety of circ*mstances in both rich and poor countries. In Sweden, private road associations manage two-thirds of the road network at less than half the cost and with better results than do the government road agencies. This model is based on a well-structured institutional framework for private ownership of low-volume roads that includes a law on private roads and financial and technical incentives. The government provides legal and financial incentives for local property owners to associate and assume responsibility for their roads. The result is a private–public partnership in which government subsidizes road costs with grants from the budget. Increasing efficiency and effectiveness of public expenditures and working in partnership with the private sector are highly relevant goals in both developed and developing countries.

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Management of roads and the institutional solution chosen is dependent on a number of factors – regulatory tradition, road network scale etc. It is likely that some solutions are more efficient than others, and in this article the Danish and Swedish institutional solutions regarding road management are compared an analysed. The aim is to explore and briefly evaluate the systems in terms of economic efficiency. It is observed that the chosen solutions on national and municipal level are much alike and appears efficient. However, for common private roads, the institutional designs are very different and seem to be based on two diametrically contrasting views on how to govern this kind of roads.

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Background: Recent studies have reported associations between air pollution exposure and neurodevelopmental disorders in children, but the role of pre- and postnatal exposure has not been elucidated. Aim: We aimed to explore the risk for autism spectrum disorders (ASD) and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) among children in relation to pre- and postnatal exposure to air pollution from road traffic. Methods: Parents of 3,426 twins born in Stockholm during 1992–2000 were interviewed, when their children were 9 or 12 years old, for symptoms of neurodevelopmental disorders. Residence time-weighted concentrations of particulate matter with a diameter <10 μm (PM10) and nitrogen oxides (NOx) from road traffic were estimated at participants’ addresses during pregnancy, the first year, and the ninth year of life using dispersion modeling, controlling for seasonal variation. Multivariate regression models were used to examine the association between air pollution exposure and neurodevelopmental outcomes, adjusting for potential confounding factors. Results: No clear or consistent associations were found between air pollution exposure during any of the three time windows and any of the neurodevelopmental outcomes. For example, a 5–95% difference in exposure to NOx during pregnancy was associated with odds ratios (ORs) of 0.92 (95% confidence interval (CI): 0.44–1.96) and 0.90 (95% CI: 0.58–1.40) for ASD and ADHD respectively. A corresponding range in exposure to PM10 during pregnancy was related to ORs of 1.01 (95% CI: 0.52–1.96) and 1.00 (95% CI: 0.68–1.47) for ASD and ADHD. Conclusions: Our data do not provide support for an association between pre- or postnatal exposure to air pollution from road traffic and neurodevelopmental disorders in children.

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Preferential bus lanes are a widely use strategy to promote travelers to use public transport instead of private cars. Considering its relevance in the urban transportation planning and operation, it is crucial to evaluate them in terms of the operation and safety externality. We performed a road safety assessment in preferential public transport lanes with complex driving environment using a preventive approach on the 7 th Avenue, in Bogota (Colombia), between 39 th Street and 45 th Street. A detailed study of traffic conflicts was carried out under the guidelines of the Swedish technique, which uses the Time to accident and Conflicting speed to establish the severity of a conflict. A traffic conflict is defined as an incident where, if two road users on collision course maintain their speed and trajectory constant, the crash between them will be imminent. With the field information, we calibrated a VISSIM microsimulation model that correctly replicates its traffic operation. Using the SSAM tool, we validated the base model to identify the simulated traffic conflicts in VISSIM and compared them with the observed conflicts. Under the calibrated environment, we developed and assessed three different scenarios of countermeasures to reduce the number of conflicts observed. As a result, we found that the safest scenario is the one established in the regulations that normalize the operation in preferential lanes, currently not obeyed by most users. Based on our results, we recommend an adjustment in the normative measures, including regulating the stopping time and stopping zones of private vehicles and taxis.

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The article presents the examples of ethical attitudes in the actions and the enterprisingattitudes in the field of road safety.Ethical attitudes in business were discussed in reference to the example of education systemof traffic safety. As the illustration of ethical attitudes in the education actions of WojewódzkiOœrodek Ruchu Drogowego and the private centers and association of drivers training werediscussed.The chosen questions of ethics in construction trade and motorway services also werementioned. In the article, the chosen indicators of road accidents in Poland and in EuropeanUnion in years 2005–2006 and firs half on 2007, were presented and compared.

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Road traffic accidents in Nigeria are increasing at an alarming rate and have raised one of the countrys primary concerns. The current study aimed to investigate the effect of mortality awareness on attitude towards road safety. This studys main objective is to ascertain if subtle reminder of traffic mortality will influence road usersattitudes towards road safety. One hundred and three (n=103) road users from public bus terminals, and private car parking garages in the Enugu State of Nigeria participated in this study. A cross-sectional survey design was adopted. Data were collected using a modified version of the Attitude towards Safe Driving Scale (ASDS) and a scale developed to trigger mortality thoughts. The regression analysis conducted on the data established a positive association between a subtle reminder of mortality and attitude towards road safety at F (1,101), 367.67, P<.000. More so, an adjusted R2of .547 indicates that mortality reminders accounted for 54.7% of the variation in attitude towards road safety. The study concluded that mortality reminders are essential in controlling traffic-related accidents and violations. The practical implication and recommendations are discussed.

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This research investigates the salt gradation specifications adopted by different provincial or state highway departments in Canada and the US for winter road maintenance operations. To understand the type of used salt, its quantity, grain size distribution, application method and the level of satisfaction of the user, a questionnaire was prepared and sent to selected provincial/state highway departments in Canada and the US. The survey-based comparative analysis performed on the salt gradation in different jurisdictions showed that the salt gradation does not always fit in ASTM (American Society of the International Association for Testing and Materials) and BS (British Standard) standard curves. However, it was found that the gradation of coarse and fine salt used by most Canadian provinces follows ASTM I and the Finnish standards, respectively. Although the majority of jurisdictions surveyed in this study have specific requirements for gradation of the salt used in their winter maintenance operations, no laboratory tests or field trials have been conducted to investigate the effectiveness of a particular salt gradation for road winter maintenance operations. It was also found that salt gradation standards are compromised due to factors such as local availability of the material, purity of the available material, ease of material handling, ease of application, and the preference of private contractors for certain materials.

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Objective: The study assessed driver, vehicular and road-related factors associated with road crashes (RC) in the Kintampo North Municipality.Design: Cross-sectional studySetting: Kintampo North MunicipalityData source: Demographics, vehicular and road usage information on registered drivers at Ghana Private Road and Transport Union (GPRTU) and Progressive Transport Owners Association (PROTOA) in Kintampo North MunicipalityMain outcome: involvement in road crashes and related factorsResult: A total of 227 drivers were approached for this study. None of them declined participation. They were all males. Most were between 28-37 years (30%). The proportion of drivers that reported RC ever involvement in at least one RC was 55.5% (95% CI: 8.0%, 62.1%). In the bivariate analysis, drink and drive changed lane without signalling, ever bribed police officer, drove beyond the maximum speed limit, paid a bribe at DVLA for driving license, violation of traffic signals were found to be associated with RC involvement (p<0.05). Drivers who violated traffic signals had 2.84 odds of being involved in road crashes compared to those who did not [aOR; 2.84 (95%CI:1.06,7.63)]Conclusion: The proportion of drivers ever involved in road crashes was high. The major factor that is associated with RC involvement was a violation of the traffic light signals. Continuous driver education and enforcement of road traffic regulations by the appropriate authorities could curb the road crash menace in the Municipality.Keywords: commercial drivers, road crashes, vehicle, road signs, traffic light signalFunding: The authors funded this work.

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Abstract Research on the PR-function is extensive, especially in the US and the UK. The managertechnician dichotomy is well known, but has been challenged by recent research where more nuanced perspectives on PR-managerial roles are displayed. In relation to this complexity of PR-managerial roles the article investigates the function and role Swedish public relations managers perform and play in their organizations. The Swedish case, with its high proportion of PR practitioners employed by public authorities, was used to further explore the complexity of PR work. The empirical data was a survey distributed to a random sample of members of the Swedish Public Relations Association, with a managerial or head/ director position, representing all industry/societal sectors. 261 persons completed the survey, giving a response rate of 30 percent. The study confirmed previous research of a more complex picture of the PR-managerial level. One important conclusion was therefore that the simple dichotomy between managers and technicians cannot be used to understand managerial level positions in the public relations context. This complexity was even further emphasized when comparing PR-mangers in the private and the public sector. One challenge pointed out for future research was to develop analyses of PR managerial roles in different types of organizations.

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Damsere-Derry, J., Af*ckaar, F., Palk, G., & King, M. (2014). Determinants of drink-driving and association between drink-driving and road traffic fatalities in Ghana. The International Journal Of Alcohol And Drug Research, 3(2), 135-141. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.7895/ijadr.v3i2.135Aims: The objective is to establish determinants of drink-driving and its association with traffic crashes in Ghana.Methods: A multivariable logistic regression was used to establish significant determinants of drink-driving, and a bivariate logistic regression to establish the association between drink-driving and road traffic crashes in Ghana.Results: In total, 2,736 motorists were randomly stopped for breath testing, of whom 8.7% tested positive for alcohol. Among the total participants, 5.5% exceeded the legal BAC limit of 0.08%. Formal education is associated with a reduced likelihood of drink-driving compared with drivers without formal education. The propensity to drink-drive is 1.8 times higher among illiterate drivers than it is among drivers with basic education. Young adult drivers also recorded elevated likelihoods for driving under alcohol impairment, compared with adult drivers. The odds of drink-driving among truck drivers is OR = 1.81 (95% CI = 1.16 to 2.82) and two-wheeler riders is OR = 1.41 (95% CI = 0.47 to 4.28) compared with car drivers. Contrary to general perception, commercial car drivers have a significant reduced likelihood of 41%, OR = 0.59 (95% CI = 0.38 to 0.92) compared with private car drivers. Bivariate analysis conducted showed a significant association between the proportion of drivers exceeding the legal BAC limit and road traffic fatalities (p < 0.001). The model predicts that a 1% increase in the proportion of drivers exceeding the legal BAC will be associated with a 4% increase in road traffic fatalities (95% CI = 3% to 5%) and vice versa.Conclusions: A positive and significant association between roadside alcohol prevalence and road traffic fatality has been established. Scaling up roadside breath tests, determining standard drink (e.g., any drink which contains about 10 grams of absolute alcohol) and disseminating this information to the populace, and formulating policies targeting youth (such as increasing minimum legal drinking age and reducing the legal BAC limit for youth and novice drivers) might reduce drink-driving related crashes in Ghana.

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To meet current targets for greenhouse gas emissions in Europe, emissions, especially those originating from the road transport sector, need to be reduced. Plans are to achieve this goal by substituting fossil fuel vehicles with electric vehicles (EVs). This article first discusses conceptually the impact of an increasing share of EVs on the electricity grid and suitable locations for charging stations with examples from a Case Study in Lower Bavaria. Secondly, the impact of purchase subsidies on EV purchases in Germany, a high-income country characterized by an important automotive industry and an increasing share of private vehicles is examined. To achieve this, yearly information on EV purchases were analyzed by applying the Synthetic Control Method. Combining data from different sources including the European Alternative Fuels Observatory, Eurostat, and the European Automobile Manufacturers' Association, an overall picture was developed. Results indicate a difference between private, semi-public, and public charging infrastructures. Its spatial distribution does not correspond to a specific development strategy. Moreover, EV subsidies have a limited effect in Germany when controlling for market size. Limiting the discussion to a trade-off between subsidizing infrastructures or EV purchases obviates the multidimensionality of the problem as neither of them may be sufficient to accelerate the transition per se. Furthermore, if electricity provided for EVs comes mainly from fossil carriers, the changes in the road transport sector will not yield the expected emission reductions. The transition towards renewables is directly intertwined with the effects of EVs on emission reductions in the road transport sector.

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Background: Road traffic injury (RTI) is one of the major causes of death, injury and disability worldwide and most of which occur in developing countries like Bangladesh. The main objective of this study was to identify the role of various socio-demographic and economic factors regarding the knowledge and consciousness about RTI at Khulna division in Bangladesh. Methods: Primary data were collected from 200 respondents in Khulna Medical College Hospital and Satkhira Sadar Hospital and several private clinics, generated by interviewing people who had experienced a traffic accident in Khulna division, Bangladesh. The Chi-square test and logistic regression model were utilized in this study to analyze the data. Results: The results show that there was a significant association between education (primary to higher secondary school: OR = 3.584, 95% CI = 0.907-14.155; higher educated: OR = 24.070, 95% CI = 4.860-119.206); occupation (farmer and labor: OR = 0.528,95% CI = 0.208-1.340; others: OR = 0.263, 95% CI = 0.097-0.713); if they were driving a motorcycle (OR = 4.137, 95% CI = 1.229-13.932); proper treatment (OR = 4.690, 95% CI = 1.736-12.673); consciousness about the RTI (OR = 18.394, 95% CI = 6.381-53.025); if they were an unskilled driver (OR = 8.169, 95% CI = 0.96-16.51), unfit vehicles (OR = 3.696, 95% CI = 1.032-13.234), if they were breaking traffic rules (OR = 6.918, 95% CI = 2.237-21.397), faulty road and traffic management (OR = 3.037, 95% CI = 1.125-8.196) with having knowledge about traffic rules in Khulna division, Bangladesh. Conclusion: According to the results of the study, by increasing knowledge and awareness about traffic rules among people through education and awareness programs, imposing strict traffic rules, not giving licenses to unskilled drivers, not allowing unfit vehicles on the road, reconstruction and proper road management RTI’s can be reduced.

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The idea of an ecosystem suggests a holistic framing of how heterogeneous actors relate to one another and of the dynamics of their relationships. Because of the dynamics some relationships will become uncertain, posing significant challenge to the identity of participating organizations. Unfortunately, the Information Systems (IS) literature has not examined how organizations develop and negotiate their identities during ecosystem evolution. We fill this void by exploring identity challenges that Swedish Road Administration (SRA) faced while implementing the Radio Data System – Traffic Message Channel (RDS – TMC) traffic information service. Through a longitudinal case study we follow how SRA's inherited expectations, guiding norms, and standards of sense-giving about its identity prevented it from becoming a flexible service provider within an emerging mobile ecosystem. We record a constant clash – the identity tension – between the old inherited identity of a public road administrator and the aspiring new identity of a digital service provider. To enact a successful identity change, SRA had to engage in a series of change episodes whereby it deliberately implemented new routines that forged novel relationships with actors within the ecosystem. This permitted SRA to gradually align its identity to the evolving needs of the RDS-TMC service ecosystem. Our findings suggest that deliberate attempts to implement innovative mobile services – especially those involving public-private partnerships – trigger intriguing identity ambiguities and role dilemmas, and future research should therefore focus on effective strategies to identify, manage, and resolve inherent identity tensions.

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Since the 2007 global financial crisis, many have questioned the predominant form of neoliberal capitalism that has underpinned a U.S.-led global economic order since the 1980s. Meanwhile, China's state capitalism, led by the Chinese Communist Party, has been ascendant. Some have even posited a “Beijing Consensus” as an alternative to the “Washington Consensus.” This essay advances the concept of State Capitalism 4.0, which is premised on the Chinese party-state's control over state-owned enterprises (SOEs) and private firms, mediated through regulatory and institutional arrangements and the strategic exploitation of technology. I apply this concept to analyse China's approach to transnational labor issues as Chinese enterprises expand their activities abroad and mobilize a growing number of Chinese workers transnationally, especially under the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Reflecting on the implications of State Capitalism 4.0 for transnational labor law, I argue that the strategic exercise of state regulatory powers can strengthen labor standards through domestic laws and institutions but is antithetical to a core international labor right: freedom of association.

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Technology standardization unfolds as a dialectic process marked by paradoxical tensions. However, standardization research has yet to provide a dialectic analysis of how tensions and management responses interact recursively over time, and with what effect. In this paper, we apply dialectics to analyze an action research study of a Swedish initiative that developed and diffused a technology standard to facilitate the integration of disparate IT systems in road haulage firms. Drawing on the technology standardization literature and our empirical analysis, we engage in midrange theorizing to capture the recursive dynamics through which standard-setters construct and respond to manifestations of three latent tensions: development versus diffusion activities, private versus public interests, and local versus global solutions. Our resulting dialectic theorizing explicates how standard-setters bring these latent tensions into being; how they construct salient tensions through the oppositional logics of polarization, complementarity, and mutuality; how they manage these tensions through splitting, integrating, and suspension responses; and how consequential functional, architectural, and organizational standardization outcomes produce a new social order in which new tensions emerge. These theoretical insights contribute to both the technology standardization and dialectics literatures.

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Background: Low and medium income countries (LMICs) such as Kenya experience nearly three times more cases of traumatic brain injury (TBI) compared to high income countries (HICs). This is primarily exacerbated by weak health systems especially at the pre-hospital care level. Generating local empirical evidence on TBI patterns and its influence on patient mortality outcomes is fundamental in informing the design of trauma-specific emergency medical service (EMS) interventions at the pre-hospital care level. This study determines the influence of TBI patterns and mortality. Methods: This was a case-control study with a sample of 316 TBI patients. Data was abstracted from medical records for the period of January 2017 to March 2019 in three tertiary trauma care facilities in Kenya. Logistic regression was used to assess influence of trauma patterns on TBI mortality, controlling for patient characteristics and other potential confounders. Results: The majority of patients were aged below 40 years (73%) and were male (85%). Road traffic injuries (RTIs) comprised 58% of all forms of trauma. Blunt trauma comprised 71% of the injuries. Trauma mechanism was the only trauma pattern significantly associated with TBI mortality. The risk of dying for patients sustaining RTIs was 2.83 times more likely compared to non-RTI patients [odds ratio (OR) 2.83, 95% confidence interval (CI) 1.62-4.93, p=0.001]. The type of transfer to hospital was also significantly associated with mortality outcome, with a public hospital having a two times higher risk of death compared to a private hospital [OR 2.18 95%CI 1.21-3.94, p<0.009]. Conclusion: Trauma mechanism (RTI vs non-RTI) and type of tertiary facility patients are transferred to (public vs private) are key factors influencing TBI mortality burden. Strengthening local EMS trauma response systems targeting RTIs augmented by adequately resourced and equipped public facilities to provide quality lifesaving interventions can reduce the burden of TBIs.

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After completing a law degree at the University of Birmingham when I was 20 and not really knowing what I wanted to do, except that it was not law, I became an English as a foreign language (EFL) teacher accidentally through signing up as a volunteer with the British United Nations Association (BUNA), roughly equivalent to the US Peace Corps. Instead of being dispatched to assist starving people through a remote third-world community development project, as I had naively expected, I was sent on a fast-paced, two-week English as a second language (ESL) teacher-training course at a well-known private language school, International House, on Shaftesbury Avenue, in the heart of London's West End. Then came a one-week BUNA ‘orientation’ course in the suburbs. A hundred-plus neophyte volunteers were lectured on how to deliver a baby, how to deal with snake bites, how to remove leeches using gasoline or matches (but not both), the importance of taking anti-malaria pills daily without fail (pills subsequently found to be 100% ineffective), and how to avoid schistosomiasis (snail fever). On the last day, I was informed that, contrary to what I had first been told, I would not after all be going to Afghanistan, but to Peru. A week later, I arrived in Lima, a bustling Latin-American metropolis with no shortage of mid-wives, no malaria, no snakes, no snails and not a leech in sight. In the face of pervasive poverty, corruption, violence, and illiteracy, I had been sent several thousand miles, with absolutely no understanding of how people learn languages and minimal understanding of how to teach them, to provide free English classes for the relatively wealthy, mostly middle-class faculty and students in the Faculty of Law of Peru's leading university, the Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos.

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The objective of the paper is to explore whether particular problematisations of cars and car use lead to sets of solutions that may not deal with all problems associated with car use, and whether this leads to any internal conflicts within the chosen policies. The paper is based on a review of local transport policy documents from 13 cities in four countries using the lens of policy problematisation as an analytical framework. Some critiques of policy problematisation are discussed in the paper but it is nonetheless shown to be helpful for this analysis. The paper finds that the problems most typically highlighted in the strategies reviewed are poor accessibility (as a “bad” in itself, but also because it is seen to compromise economic growth); the negative impacts of traffic on liveability of the central part of the city and therefore its ability to attract inhabitants, especially those needed to support a knowledge economy; local air and noise pollution; and road safety. The resulting visions are for urban areas less dominated by private cars, with more green and public space, in order to maximise accessibility and liveability to attract economic development; and most cities also seek to reduce car travel as a proportion of trips. However, in many cities this vision covers mainly the central city, with car use set to remain dominant in outer cities and for regional trips. In almost all cities, only one measure, parking management, is proposed as a means of cutting car use. The differing sets of measures envisaged for outer areas of cities threatens to undermine those envisaged for more central cities.

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Abstract Aim: We aimed to investigate the association between long-term air pollution and cognitive decline and dementia, and to clarify the role of CVD on the studied association. Methods: We examined 3150 dementia-free 60+ year-olds in the Swedish National study on Aging and Care in Kungsholmen, Stockholm for up to 13 years, during which 363 persons developed dementia. Outdoor air pollution levels at the home address were assessed yearly for all participants, using a dispersion model for nitrogen oxides (NOX), mainly emitted from road traffic. Mixed-effect linear regression models were used to quantify the association between air pollution and cognitive decline (with the Mini Mental State Examination). The risk of dementia, in keeping with the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders IV edition, was estimated using competing-risks models, considering death as competing event, and considering an exposure window 0-5 years before a year at risk. Stratified analyses by CVD were also performed. Results: Higher levels of traffic-related residential air pollution were associated with steeper cognitive decline over the follow-up period. After controlling for potential confounders, higher levels of air pollution were associated with increased risk of dementia (HR: 1.13, 95%CI: 1.05-1.22, for an µg/m3 unit increase NOX). The stratified analyses showed that the presence of CVD enhanced the effect of air pollution on dementia risk. Conclusion: Long-term exposure to traffic-related air pollution was associated with a higher risk of dementia. Cardiovascular disease might have played a role in this association.

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A computer simulation has been developed at The University of Sheffield that predicts the impact performance of roadway wire rope safety fences. Effective use of this simulation for design, or other purposes, requires it to be validated by showing that the predicted vehicle motion and fence response closely represent that of the real system. Two distinct validation studies are described in the current paper. The first compares the major results of eight impact tests undertaken at the UK Motor Industry Research Association and a further four impact tests undertaken at the Swedish Road and Transport Research Institute with the simulation predictions. The close prediction of the test results validates the use of the simulation as a design tool for a range of fence designs and impact conditions. The second validation study compares, in detail, the test results and simulation prediction for a single test. This suggests that, if required, results may be improved further by considering suspension effects in the vehicle model, and by a better understanding of frictional effects at the rope-post and the rope-vehicle contacts.

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Abstract Background Metabolic syndrome (MS) is characterized by numerous metabolic risk factors. We investigated the associations between a long-term exposure to ambient air pollution and the residential distance to green spaces (GS) and major roads with the development of arterial hypertension (AH) and some components of MS. These associations were assessed among persons living in private and multi-story houses (MH). Methods We selected 1354 participants for the population study from MONICA (Multinational Monitoring of Trends and Determinants in Cardiovascular Disease Program). The exposures to PM10, PM2.5, and NO2 levels were assessed by using the LUR models for Kaunas City. Results In the participants who lived in MH, the residential distance to a major road closer than 200 m and the residential exposure to PM10 and PM2.5 levels above the median were associated with a higher risk of AH (the adjusted relative risks (RRs), respectively, were 1.41(1.10–1.81), 1.19(1.01–1.42) and 1.27(1.07–1.52)). In these participants, the residential exposure to a PM10 level above the median was associated with a higher risk of reduced high density lipoprotein (RHDL) (RR = 1.46(1.05–2.05)). A negative impact of the traffic air pollutants on the incidence of AH, RHDL cholesterol and high triglyceride levels was observed only in the participants who lived in MH.

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This paper demonstrates that the largest business association of private firms in the People's Republic of China (PRC), the All-China Federation of Industry and Commerce (ACFIC), has induced its members to help achieve the goals of the PRC's extremely ambitious but risky Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) since its inauguration in 2013. Through its newspaper, the ACFIC has drawn the attention of its member firms to countries participating in the BRI, which has led to increased trade between provinces in the PRC and BRI-participating countries emphasized by the ACFIC's newspaper. The results show that the PRC's exports have been encouraged substantially more than its imports, which could be a cause for concern for the sustainability of the BRI. The results were obtained through various specially designed versions of the gravity model and have shown to be robust to the use of various methods for mitigating possible estimation biases.

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Aim: To analyse to what extent the gradual relaxation of traveller allowances for alcoholic beverages 2001–2004 changed consumer behaviours and subsequent alcohol consumption patterns within a longitudinal panel data population study in Southern Sweden. Methods: General population random sample panel data study with repeated measurements were collected in 1999, in 2005, and in 2010 in the county of Scania. The study analyses answers from 9770 individuals, who in 1999 were 18–80 years old. A fixed-effects modelling was applied to assess the association between consumer behaviour and change in alcohol use across the study period. Results: Cross-border shopping for alcoholic beverages was associated, on average, with a 3.1% ( p < 0.001) increase in alcohol use. Buying imported alcohol from a private person was associated with a mean increase of 2.6% ( p < 0.001), with a total additive effect of 5.7%. Furthermore, when stratified for gender, age, and location, significant fixed effects were found. The magnitude was greater among women, younger and older ages, and in particular in the Northeast and Central regions. Both consumer behaviours – cross-border trading ( OR 1.6, CI 95% 1.28–1.92) and buying alcohol from a private person ( OR 1.4, CI 95% 1.12–1.73) – were significantly associated with heavy alcohol use. Conclusion: The fixed-effects analyses identified significant associations between consumer behaviours and alcohol consumption. The uptake of behaviours that developed because of a relaxation of the Swedish alcohol policy has contributed to an overall long-term increase in alcohol use and higher prevalence of heavy alcohol use within this general population study sample.

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Driving anger, known as “road rage”, has gradually become a serious traffic psychology issue. Although driving anger identification is solved in some studies, there is still a gap in driving anger grading which is helpful to take different intervening measures for different anger intensity, especially in real traffic environment. The main objectives of this study are: (1) explore a novel driving anger induction method based on various elicitation events, e.g., traffic congestion, vehicles weaving/cutting in line, jaywalking and red light waiting in real traffic environment; (2) apply incremental association Markov blanket (IAMB) algorithm to select typical features related to driving anger states; (3) employ least square support vector machine (LSSVM) to identify different driving anger states based on the selected features. Thirty private car drivers were enrolled to perform field experiments on a busy route selected in Wuhan, China, where drivers’ anger could be induced by the elicitation events within limited time. Meanwhile, three types of data sets including driver physiology, driving behaviors and vehicle motions, were collected by multiple sensors. The results indicate that 13 selected features including skin conductance, relative energy spectrum of β band of electroencephalogram, standard deviation (SD) of pedaling speed of gas pedal, SD of steering wheel angle rate, vehicle speed, SD of speed, SD of forward acceleration and SD of lateral acceleration have significant impact on driving anger states. The IAMB-LSSVM model achieves an accuracy with 82.20% which is 2.03%, 3.15%, 4.34%, 7.84% and 8.36% higher than IAMB using C4.5, NBC, SVM, KNN and BPNN, respectively. The results are beneficial to design driving anger detecting or intervening devices in intelligent human-machine systems.

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Background: Road injuries are the second-leading cause of disease and injury in the Andean region of South America. Adequate management of road traffic crash victims is important to prevent and reduce deaths and serious long-term injuries. Objective: To evaluate the promptness of health care services provided to those injured in road traffic incidents (RTIs) and the satisfaction with those services during the pre-hospital and hospital periods. Methods: We conducted a cross-sectional study with active surveillance to recruit participants in emergency departments at eight health care facilities in three Peruvian cities: a large metropolitan city (Lima) and two provincial cities (an urban center in the southern Andes and an urban center in the rainforest region), between August and September 2009. The main outcomes of interest were promptness of care, measured by time between injury and each service offered, as well as patient satisfaction measured by the Service Quality (SERVQUAL) survey. We explored the association between outcomes and city, type of health care facility (HCF), and type of provider. Results: We recruited 644 adults seeking care for RTIs. This active surveillance strategy yielded 34% more events than anticipated, suggesting under-reporting in traditional registries. Median response time between a RTI and any care at a HCF was 33 minutes overall and only 62% of participants received professional care during the initial “golden” hour after the RTI. After adjustment for various factors, there was strong evidence of higher global dissatisfaction levels among those receiving care at public HCFs compared to private ones (odds ratio (OR) 5.05, 95% confidence interval (CI) 1.88-13.54). This difference was not observed when provincial sites were compared to Lima (OR 1.41, 95% CI 0.42-4.70). Conclusions: Response time to RTIs was adequate overall, though a large proportion of RTI victims could have received more prompt care. Overall, dissatisfaction was high, mainly at public institutions indicating much need for improvements in service provision.

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Black Bears (Ursus americanus) were once widespread across Texas, but their numbers were reduced in the early 1900s. Recolonization of the Trans-Pecos region of Texas has occurred via bears migrating northward from Mexico. Recent bear sightings have increased in this area. This could be an indication that the population in Texas is beginning to recover, but the population will continue to expand only if there is suitable habitat to occupy. To help identify suitable habitat and restoration areas, we developed a predictive habitat-distribution model by using records of Black Bear sightings from 1996 to 2003 to map the species' distribution. Using Bayesian statistics, we modeled the probability of occurrence of Black Bears in the Trans-Pecos region based on sighting locations. We used GIS layers for land use/landcover, elevation, water sources, and road networks to obtain covariates in our modeling. We used a 10-fold cross-validation to test the effectiveness of using sighting data. Our results indicated a negative association with bare areas, agriculture, and grassland landcovers. In addition, southern aspect, elevation, distance to water, slope, and western aspect also influenced suitable habitat. Both the original and validation datasets correctly classified bear sightings 93.9% and 93.7% of the time, respectively. Our model can be used to target restoration efforts to enhance the ability of the Black Bear to expand in the Trans-Pecos region. It can also identify private landowners most likely to be affected by the expansion of Black Bears for education and cooperative efforts.

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Abstract Urban areas may support high densities of wild carnivores, and pathogens can strongly influence carnivore populations. Red foxes (Vulpes vulpes) are hosts of sarcoptic mange (Sarcoptes scabiei), which infects numerous species, and transmission can be density dependent. In Great Britain, urban red foxes (Vulpes vulpes) have recently increased in population density and undergone range expansions. Here we investigate corresponding changes in urban fox mange prevalence. We predicted a higher prevalence closer to historic epi/enzootics and lower prevalence where urban features reduce fox density and movements, i.e. large areas of public green space, and fragmented habitat, as measured by road length and urban perimeter shape complexity. We visually assessed mange symptoms from georeferenced images of urban foxes submitted online by the public, thus surveying private land on a national scale. We measured the proportion of foxes apparently showing mange and used SATSCAN to identify spatial clusters of high infection risk. Landscape features were extracted from urban layers in GIS to determine associations. Although mange was widespread, we identified a single cluster of high prevalence (37.1%) in Northwest and Central England, which exceeded double mean prevalence overall (15.1%) and mirrors the northward expansion of urban fox distribution. Prevalence was positively correlated with perimeter shape complexity and negatively correlated with distance to the nearest city with mange, although the latter association was weak. Our findings show that citizen science can effectively monitor diseases with highly visible symptoms and suggest that fox movements are influential in explaining spatial patterns of prevalence.

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Background and context: Motorcycle transport system also known as “BodaBoda”' is one of Uganda's commonest means of transport with over 10,000 motorists ridding on the streets of Kampala on daily basis according to the statistics from Kampala City Authority. HealthAid Uganda (HAU) strategically engaged the above group in to promotion of cancer awareness, screening and blood donation for cancer patients following the lack of blood at the cancer institute for cancer patients. The process was strengthened by working in partnership with the Uganda Bodaboda Association 2010, an umbrella association that brings all the motorists together. It also included the Uganda Police Services, Ministry of Health and the private sector. Aim: To use motorists to deliver cancer education, awareness and facilitate blood donation for cancer patients in Uganda. Strategy/Tactics: The event was branded with the theme “Know your health, donate blood, save life”. It involved mobilization of the motorcycle riders through the BodaBoda 2010 association, a cancer awareness motorcycle ride across Kampala City, led by the head of traffic Uganda police as the chief rider. This was conducted along Kampala road and finally convened on the Uganda railway grounds, where the event was crowned with cancer education, screening and blood donation for the cancer patients. Program/Policy process: Community involvement and advocacy. Outcomes: There were large number of motorcycle riders 1000 who passionately turned up for the community event, high expectations to know about cancer and being able to go with cancer education materials for their families and communities. Blood bank collection team declared collecting 400 units of blood. The head, Department of Non Communicable Diseases at the Ministry of Health appreciated the efforts of HAU and pledged that the MOH will strongly work and support HAU on the initiative. The event attracted over 1500 individuals both the motorcycle riders and the community. What was learned: Using popular service groups has a high success rate in delivering cancer awareness and screening services to the least households in the community. HAU's success in this strategy was accelerated by the principle in which it focuses on working with organized groups so as to reach the households with cancer information and empower them to be able to make best choices. HAU looks further to extending the same activities to other communities of similar nature.

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Abstract: This study analyzed the perceptions of four stakeholder groups (forest landowners, private forest consultants, forest management researchers or educators, and federal or state agency foresters), regarding their management practices and preferred geographic growing conditions of loblolly pine in Virginia by combining AHP (analytical hierarchy process) and regression modeling. By ranking the importance of different geographical conditions for managing loblolly pine, we aimed to identify ways to support loblolly growth as a potential feedstock for biofuel generation. We achieved this through collecting survey responses from 43 stakeholders during the 2019 Virginia Forestry Summit. The results showed that the landowner, researcher/educator, and federal/state agency stakeholder groups all indicated that proximity to a mill was the most important criteria, whereas the consultant stakeholder group indicated that proximity to a road was the most important criteria. All the stakeholder groups indicated that distance from protected land was the least important criteria, followed by proximity to a water body and flat land. The regression model revealed that acres of land managed and loblolly rotation age were correlated to the weight given to the distance to a mill criterion, where increased acreage and increased rotation age were associated with an increased prioritization of proximity to a mill. Distance from protected land, the lowest-ranking criteria, was shown to have an association with the level of experience with loblolly, where more experience was associated with a lower prioritization of proximity from protected land. A contingency analysis of the self-identified level of experience with loblolly in each stakeholder group revealed that federal/state agency foresters had the most experience, followed by consultants, landowners, and researchers/educators. The research supports the importance of understanding the variation of perceptions between and within stakeholder groups in order to develop the necessary infrastructural and policy support for the sustainable development of bioenergy.

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In urban area, making the attractive public spaces is effective one way of creating a public life or increasing the value of area. In Japan, there have been many public spaces which are not well used because the flexible utilization of public spaces including road, park and river has been limited due to some regulations. However, in accordance with the revision of “Act on Special Measures concerning Urban Reconstruction” and so on, stakeholders have been able to review the making public spaces which are stimulated flexibility use because the utilization of public spaces have been permitted by private business operators or locally area management association. In case of practical and tactical public space making, it is necessary to gain a public consensus through stakeholders discuss what kind of good effect will be made by the alteration of public spaces by communication. Therefore, it is effective to visualize based on the data verification and accumulate the results for short-term and temporary alteration of public spaces such as social experiment. At the same time, integrating the consideration of thermal environment and wind condition will contribute to make more attractive public spaces. Therefore, this study aims obtaining the basic data necessary for making the attractive public spaces considering thermal environment and wind condition in Saitama New Urban Center Area which is central business zones. Specifically, this study progressed via the following steps: 1) activity investigation; 2) thermal environmental and wind condition survey and numerical simulation results; 3) analyzing the relationship between 1) and 2). In addition, it attempts to make analysis focusing strong wind for high-rise building because the high-rise buildings are lined in many parts of Saitama New Urban Center Area. Also, these results are intended to make use of designing attractive public spaces in Saitama New Urban Center Area.

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Background: Traumatic brain injury (TBI) is a non degenerative, non congenital insult to the brain from an external force, possibly leading to permanent or temporary impairment of cognitive, physical and psychosocial functions with association of diminished and altered state of consciousness. It accounts for approximately 40% of all deaths from acute injuries in the united state. Twenty percent of TBI occurs in the paediatric age young people and men aged about 15-30 are the high risk of population. The study is to define TBI appropriately, to know the causes of TBI, clinical presentations and severity of TBI patients in our hospital. Methods: A direct observational study was carried out from 18th July, 2010 to 31st December, 2010. Total numbers of patients were 100. A semi structured pretest questionnaire was used to take proper history, clinical assessment, their management and programs. Results: A total of 100 patients with traumatic brain injury (TBI) in which 84% were male and 16% were female. Out of 100 patients irrespective of sex it was observed that most patients that is 26% belongs to age group 26-35yrs then 24% belongs to age group 16-25yrs. Out of 100 patients 48% was RTA (Road traffic accident) then 28% was assault and 22% belongs to fall in. Out of 100 patients it was observed that most presenting complaints was unconscious 42%, headache 36% and vomiting 26%, mental functions i.e. unconscious 42% and 36% belongs to normal. 42% showed impaired motor and 20% sensory. 62% complaint unable to walk. Bladder dysfunction belongs to 64%. Conclusion: Traumatic brain injury accounts 40% of all death from acute injuries in the developed country. This percentage is now increasing in developing country like Bangladesh. So government and private organizations should setup more trauma centre and can enhance to decrease the adverse conditions. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.3329/jdmc.v22i1.15623 J Dhaka Medical College, Vol. 22, No. 1, April, 2013, Page 45-50

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Purpose The second Nordic lymphoma group protocol for mantle cell lymphoma (NLG-MCL 2) includes three courses of maxi-CHOP alternating with three courses of high-dose cytarabine, and followed by consolidation with high-dose therapy and autologous stem-cell transplantation (ASCT). This has been the standard of care for younger MCL patients in Sweden since year 2000. Since 2008, rituximab has been added. On a population level, it is not well described how many patients' complete treatment and undergo consolidation with ASCT and which reasons that govern this decision. Our aim was to describe selection mechanisms to ASCT, and further describe outcome for ASCT transplanted versus non-transplanted patients in different age groups. Methods We investigated 670 MCL patients aged 22-70 years and diagnosed 2000-2014 (among whom 416 were 22-65 years) using data from the Swedish population-based lymphoma register. Clinical, demographical, and comorbidity data was linked to the patient cohort through nationwide health care registers. Severity of comorbidity was defined according to the Charlson comorbidity index (CCI; 0,1 and 2+). Selection mechanisms were analysed by estimating odds ratios (ORs) with 95% confidence intervals (CIs) for being transplanted using univariable and multivariable logistic regression models. Patients that did not reach complete remission during induction chemotherapy and therefore not transplanted were identified and excluded when analyzing other selection mechanisms. Demographic determinants were specifically considered, including marital status (married, not married, divorced and widower) and educational level (up to 9 years, 10-12, and more than 12 years of schooling). Survival functions, by ASCT and age at diagnosis (<50, 50-59, 60-65, 66-70) were estimated using the Kaplan-Meier method. Moreover, hazard ratios (HRs) with 95% confidence intervals (CI) comparing all-cause mortality by ASCT and age were estimated using Cox regression (adjusted for calendar year of diagnosis, age at diagnosis, sex and country of birth). Results Among patients aged up to 70 years, 355 (54%) were not selected for ASCT whereas 299 (46%) were given ASCT in first remission. Among patients up to 65 years, 158/416 (38%) were not selected for ASCT. Sixteen patients did not reach complete remission after induction chemotherapy and were thus not transplanted and not further included. Being a widow, having lower educational level, older age at diagnosis, higher comorbidity burden, diagnosed during an earlier calendar period, stage I disease and a lower mantle cell lymphoma prognostic index (MIPI) (Table 1) was in univariable analyses, associated with a reduced chance of receiving ASCT, while this was not seen for different sex, county, hospital and country of birth. In adjusted analyses of sociodemographic characteristics, being unmarried (compared to married) significantly decreased the odds of receiving ASCT (adj. OR=0.56, 95% CI: 0.34-0.94). Also, patients with any comorbidity, CCI 1 (adj. OR=0.51, 95% CI: 0.29-0.90) and severe comorbidity, CCI 2+ (adj. OR=0.41, 95% CI: 0.25-0.68) had lower chance of receiving ASCT. For patients younger than 60 years at diagnosis MIPI and stage were generally lower in the non-transplanted group and here selection to ASCT was not associated with inferior OS (Figure 1). For patients aged 60-65 who were not selected to transplantation, overall survival was inferior compared to patients who underwent ASCT (p-value from log rank test=0.01, Figure 1). However, this association was attenuated when adjusting for potential confounders in a Cox regression (HR: 0.66, 95% CI 0.42-1.03). Conclusion A surprisingly high proportion of patients (more than 50%) were not treated with ASCT as part of primary treatment. Reasons for not being selected to ASCT included both medical and socioeconomic factors. Patients who were unmarried were less often transplanted. Among younger patients (<60 years), omission of ASCT seemed over-represented for "indolent" cases and no prognostic difference was seen, while for patients 60-65 years of age, omission of transplantation was associated with inferior OS. Improvements in both supportive functions, awareness for clinicians about their decisions and development of alternative, more tolerable, treatment concepts are needed for a large fraction of MCL patients and would likely improve survival. Disclosures Glimelius: Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Honoraria. Smedby:Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Other: This project was partly funded through a private-public collaboration between KI and Janssen pharmaceuticals.; Takeda: Research Funding; Celgene: Honoraria. Albertsson-Lindblad:Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Other: This study was partly funded via the public-private real world evidence collaboration between Karolinska Institutet and Janssen Pharmaceuticals (contract: 5-63/2015). Eloranta:Janssen Pharmaceuticals.: Other: project coordinator for a public-private real world evidence; Karolinska Institutet: Other: coordinator for a public-private real world evidence. Jerkeman:Janssen: Honoraria, Research Funding; Gilead: Honoraria, Research Funding; Acerta: Honoraria, Research Funding; Celgene: Honoraria, Research Funding; Roche: Honoraria, Research Funding.

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Abstrak Penelitian ini bertujuan untuk mengetahui tentang faktor-faktor penyebab pedagang bertahan di pasar lama Kecamatan Lubuk Alung serta sikap pedagang dan pembeli terhadap pasar baru yang telah dibangun. Jenis penelitian adalah penelitian kualitatif. Hasil penelitian menemukan bahwa faktor-faktor penyebab pedagang bertahan di pasar lama Kecamatan Lubuk Alung adalah 1) Faktor langsung yang mepengaruhi adalah (a) Lokasi pasar yang dekat dengan rumah pedagang dan pembeli dengan jarak tempuh rata-rata kurang dari 3 Km. (b) Transportasi yang dapat digunakan untuk sampai ke pasar lama kendaraan umum dan pribadi. (c) Harga sewa kios yang terjangkau Rp 500.000 – Rp 1.500.000 pertahun (d) Rata-rata pendapatan pedagang berkisar Rp 500.000 – Rp 1.000.000 perhari dengan keuntungan Rp 250.000 – Rp 500.000 perhari. Sedangkan faktor tidak langsung yang mempengaruhi yaitu (a) Kebijakan, tidak ada ketegasan pengelola pasar secara resmi untuk memindahkan pedagang dari pasar lama kepasar baru. (b) Hubungan sosial kemasyarakatan pedagang dengan lingkungan sudah terjalin dengan baik, dibuktikan dengan adanya ikatan antar pedagang yaitu IKAPILA (Ikatan Pedagang Pasar Lubuk Alung. 2) Sikap pedagang dan pembeli terhadap pasar baru umumnya tidak setuju, karena status penempatan pedagang di pasar baru belum jelas, pedagang sudah merasa nyaman di pasar lama rata-rata mereka berdagang sudah bertahun-tahun, biaya sewa yang mahal, alasan lainnya jarak dari terminal angkot ke pasar baru cukup jauh kurang lebih 200 meter. Hanya sebagian kecil responden dari pasar lama yang menyatakan setuju, karena dipandang pasar baru kebih teratur, jalannya lebih besar dan sudah diaspal. Kata Kunci : Sikap pedagang, pasar lama. Abstarct This study aims to find out about the factors that cause traders to survive in the old market Lubuk Alung District and the attitude of traders and buyers to new markets that have been built. This type of research is qualitative research. The results of the study found that the factors that caused traders to survive in the old market of Lubuk Alung Subdistrict were 1) Direct influencing factors were (a) Market location close to the homes of traders and buyers with an average distance of less than 3 Km. (b) Transportation that can be used to get to the old market of public and private vehicles. (c) Affordable kiosk rental prices of IDR 500,000 - IDR 1,500,000 per year (d) The average income of traders ranges from IDR 500,000 - IDR 1,000,000 per day with a profit of IDR 250,000 - IDR 500,000 per day. Whereas indirect factors that influence are (a) Policies, there is no official firmness of market managers to move traders from old markets to new markets. (b) Community social relations with traders and the environment have been well established, as evidenced by the bond between traders, namely IKAPILA (Lubuk Alung Market Trader Association. 2) The attitude of traders and buyers to new markets generally does not agree, because the placement status of traders in new markets has not clearly, traders already feel comfortable in the old market, on average they trade for years, expensive rental costs, other reasons the distance from the angkot terminal to the new market is quite far about 200 meters. Only a small number of respondents from the old market stated that they agreed, because it was seen by the new market to be more orderly, the road was bigger and already paved. Keywords: Attitudes of traders, old markets.

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Perdarahan post partum menjadi penyebab utama 40% kematian ibu di Indonesia. Robekan Jalan lahir merupakan penyebab kedua tersering dari perdarahan pasca persalinan setelah atonia uteri. Ruptur perineum merupakan perlukaan jalan lahir yang terjadi pada saat kelahiran bayi baik menggunakan alat maupun tidak menggunakan alat. Tujuan penelitian ini adalah untuk mengetahui Faktor-faktor yang berhubungan dengan kejadian ruptur perinium pada ibu bersalin di Bidan Praktek Swasta Desa Mekarsari Kabupaten Bogor tahun 2015. Penelitian ini dilakukan dengan metode penelitian analitik dengan pendekatan cross sectional, analisa data dengan uji Chi-square. Data yang dikumpulkan berupa data sekunder yang di dapat dari rekam medik pasien. Sampel yang diambil berjumlah 86 orang, teknik total sampling. Analisa yang digunakan adalah univariat dan bivariat. Hasil penelitian tidak ada hubungan yang signifikan antara faktor paritas dengan kejadian rupur perineum, dari 86 responden 58 orang (67%) ibu dengan multipara/grande multipara dengan Pvalue=0,058, sedangkan terdapat hubungan yang signifikan antara jarak kehamilan dengan ruptur perinem, dari 86 responden 50 orang (58%) pada jarak kehamilan ≥2 tahun dengan Pvalue=0,038,OR=1,023,terdapat hubungan yang signifikan antara berat badan bayi dengan ruptur perineum, dari 86 responden 69 orang (80%) ibu bersalin dengan berat badan bayi 2500-4000 dengan Pvalue=0’028,OR=1,144, terdapat hubungan yang signifikan antara umur ibu dengan ruptur perineum, dari 86 responden 73 orang (85%) melahirkan pada kelompok umur 20-35 tahun dengan Pvalue= 0,046, OR=0,046dan terdapat hubungan yang signifikan antara episiotomi dengan ruptur perineum dari 86 responden 70 orang (81%) tidak dilakukan episiotomi dengan Pvalue=0,034, OR= 1,141dengan kejadian ruptur perineum.Kata kunci : Ruptur perinium, paritas, jarak kehamilan, berat badan bayi, umur, episiotomy ABSTRACTPostpartum hemorrhage is a major cause 40% of maternal deaths in Indonesia. Rips Road birth is the second most common cause of postpartum hemorrhage after an atonic. Rupture of the perineum is the birth canal injury that occurred at the time of birth either using or not using a tool. The purpose of this study was to determine the factors associated with rupture perinium on maternity midwife mother Private Practice Bogor Regency Village Mekarsari 2015. Penelitian year was conducted by the method of analytic research with cross sectional data analysis with Chi-square test using SPSS 22.Data collected in the form of secondary data obtained from patient records. Samples were taken totaling 86 people, total sampling technique. The analysis used is univariate and bivariate. The results of the study there was no significant relationship between the factors of parity with incident rupur perineum, of 86 respondents 58 people (67%) of mothers with multiparous/grande multipara with pvalue = 0.058, whereas there is a significant correlation between the distance pregnancy with rupture perinem, of 86 respondents 50 people (58%) at a distance of pregnancy ≥ 2 years with pvalue = 0.038, OR = 1.023, there is a significant relationship between infant weight with rupture perineum, 69 of 86 respondents (80%) of mothers with a birth weight babies 2500- 4000 with pvalue = 0'028, OR = 1.144, there is a significant relationship between mother's age at rupture perineum, 73 of 86 respondents (85%) gave birth to the age group of 20-35 years with pvalue = 0.046, OR = 0.046 and contained a significant association between episiotomy to perineal rupture of 86 respondents 70 people (81%) did not do an episiotomy with pvalue = 0.034, OR = 1,141dengan rupture perineum.Keywords: Ruptured perinium, parity, spacing of pregnancy, the baby's weight, age, episiotomy

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Abstract Purpose: A few patients with newly diagnosed diffuse large B-cell lymphoma (DLBCL) who start on standard primary treatment with R-CHOP do not complete the recommended 6-8 cycles for reasons related to toxicity, however, this group has seldom been formally studied. We set out to describe the outcome of DLBCL patients failing to complete at least 6 R-CHOP cycles for reasons other than non-response, and to investigate determinants of such failure. Methods: We identified patients diagnosed with DLBCL in Sweden 2007-2014 who started primary treatment with R-CHOP (i.e., received at least one cycle) with the aim to receive 6 or 8 cycles, in the national Swedish Lymphoma Register (N=2,155). The analysis covered 5 out of 6 health care regions (70% of all patients diagnosed nationally). Overall survival by number of cycles was estimated using Kaplan-Meier curves (with censoring at stable disease or progression at first interim evaluation to avoid inclusion of patients who switched therapy due to non-response). Univariable and multivariable logistic regression was used to estimate odds ratios (OR) with 95% confidence intervals (CI) for the association between baseline clinical and demographic characteristics and failure to complete full R-CHOP treatment (i.e., receipt of less than 6 cycles compared with 6 cycles or more). Baseline characteristics included age, sex, calendar period of diagnosis, performance status, Ann Arbor stage, serum-lactate dehydrogenase, hemoglobin level, number of extranodal disease locations, and international prognostic index (IPI) score. In the logistic regression analysis, patients with early tumor progression (stable or progressive disease at interim or final evaluation) were excluded. Results: Among the 2,155 patients who started on R-CHOP, 399 (18.5%) failed to complete 6 cycles. Of these, 137 patients (6.4%) received only 1 or 2 cycles, and 262 (12.2%) received between 3 and 5 cycles. Only 42 patients stopped prematurely due to evidence of non-response whereas the majority (357 out of 399 patients, 89%) did so for other reasons related to toxicity and early death. Patients who failed to complete 6 cycles were older than other patients (median age 77 versus 68 years), more often had a WHO performance status of 2 or more (33% versus 12%) and more often were diagnosed with stage IV disease (40% versus 33%). Number of received R-CHOP cycles strongly correlated with survival (Figure 1). Among patients 65 years of age or younger, 5-year OS varied from 18% (95% CI 4-42%) following <3 cycles, to 70% (95% CI 53-82%) following 3-5 cycles, and 95% (95% CI 93-97%) following at least 6 cycles. Among patients older than 65 years, the corresponding figures were 13% (7-21%), 44% (95% CI 36-52%) and 81% (95% CI 78-84%), respectively (Figure 1). Using logistic regression, old age, poor performance status, hemoglobin levels <100, >1 extranodal disease location and high IPI were statistically significantly associated with failure to complete at least 6 R-CHOP in univariable analysis. In a multivariable model, old age, poor performance status and >1 extranodal location remained significantly associated with failure to complete 6 cycles of R-CHOP for reasons other than non-response. Conclusion: A surprisingly large proportion of patients diagnosed with DLBCL intended for treatment with 6-8 R-CHOP cycles fail to complete the treatment at the population-based level for reasons unrelated to non-response. Failure to complete at least 6 R-CHOP cycles was associated with poor survival, especially for patients receiving 1-2 cycles only, but also for those receiving 3-5 cycles. Old age and poor performance status most strongly predicted such failure. Figure 1: Kaplan-Meier curve of overall survival of patients with DLBCL diagnosed in Sweden 2007-2014 by number of administered R-CHOP cycles overall (top panel) and by age at diagnosis above or below 65 years (bottom panels). Disclosures Ekstrom Smedby: Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Other: The Department have recieved partial funding from Janssen Pharmaceuticals. Harrysson:Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Other: The Department have recieved partial funding from Janssen Pharmaceuticals. Ekberg:Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Other: The department has received partial funding from Janssen Pharmaceuticals. Eloranta:Janssen Pharmaceuticals: Other: S Eloranta is currently employed as a project coordinator and her salary is funded via a public-private real world evidence collaboration between Karolinska Institutet and Janssen Pharmaceuticals.

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LANGUAGE NOTE | Document text in Chinese; abstract also in English.本文的重點是從女性主義的角度思考墮胎問題。女性主義的貢獻，並不在於高舉女性的墮胎權比胎兒的生存權重要，而是讓我們跳出傳統倫理非此則彼的二元框架。女性主義確立女性是有能力作道德思考的主體，提倡透過聆聽女性的聲音，發展一套新的倫理觀——關懷倫理。本文的第一部分將會介紹關懷倫理的特色，包括考慮特殊處境的因素而非純粹應用普遍性原則﹔著眼於相互關係、而非個人權利。關懷倫理的重點並不在於平衡一己和他人之利益﹔更準確的說法，是不把各方利益對立，把自己和他人（包括胎兒）視作互為倚賴、相輔相承的整體。女性主義倫理主張從婦女的具體經驗出發，反對以抽象思維或假設性問題來探討墮胎。第二部分將會從婦女的實存處境來思考墮胎背後的問題。女性為何需要墮胎？甚麼原因造成意外懷孕？因姦成孕對女性有何影響？為何墮胎之中胎兒的性別多是女性？這一連串問題，讓我們超越墮胎的對與錯，進一步反思婦女所受的種種壓迫。最後的第三部分，將會把女性主義倫理結連到香港社會的處境，關注本地女性面對的壓迫﹔透過女性的經驗，揭示醫護人員、社工、傳媒等如何歧視尋求墮胎的女性，及對女性身體和情慾進行家長式操控。This paper aims to discuss the issue of abortion from a feminist perspective. It argues that the strength of feminism does not lie in its defense of women’s rights vis-a-vis fetal rights, but rather in providing a way for us to think beyond the either/or framework of traditional ethics. Feminism affirms women’s agency in moral reasoning. It develops and advocates a new kind of ethics – an ethics of care – by listening to the moral voices of women. The ethics of care is characterized by consideration more of the factors in a specific context than of universalizing principles, and an emphasis on the entirety of relations than on individual rights. In contrast to traditional ethics which presupposes an opposition between self and others, the ethics of care sees self and others as interdependent. It is not so much about balancing the interests of oneself and others. Rather, it concerns recognizing the falsehood of this polarity and the truth of one's and others' ( including the fetus') interconnectedness.This paper will be divided into three parts. The first part introduces the ethics of care and shows how women can transcend the framework of selfishness and self-sacrifice in their moral consideration of abortion. Feminism values women's lived experiences and opposes to discuss abortion in an abstract or hypothetical way. It directs us to look at the link between women's needs for abortion and the social practices that oppress women. The second part of the paper will situate the issue of abortion in a wider context of oppression that are faced by women, and hence exposes the problems of limiting the discussion of abortion to the standard questions about the moral status of the fetus. The last part of the paper is an attempt to discuss the issue of abortion in the context of Hong Kong through a feminist lens.One should not equate feminist ethics with liberal defenses of women's right to choose abortion. Feminist ethics yields a different analysis of the moral questions surrounding abortion than that usually offered by the more familiar liberal approaches. In the discourse of rights, the relationship between women and the fetus is understood as adversarial. An examination of the process of women's moral reasoning allows us to see that their decision whether to have an abortion is often based on considerations of the entire relationship which involves their responsibilities to the fetus and other parties (including their other children), rather than a problem about abstract deontology. Their experience points towards an ethics of care which may help us reconstruct the notion of right.To conceive abortion from a feminist ethics is to view the issue not as singular but as a set of inter-related issues. The question whether abortion is right or wrong cannot be answered in isolation from other questions which probe into women's experiences of abortion. Why do women need to pursue abortion? What are the causes of unwanted pregnancies and why are they so common across different age groups of women? Why do many women find it difficult to refuse sexual requests? What is the impact of rape on women and why did some victims fail to seek an abortion in an early stage of pregnancy? How would women's lives be affected if they are not allowed to pursue abortion? How shall we explain the phenomenon that most of the aborted fetuses are female? These questions demand us to go beyond focusing exclusively on the moral or legal permissibility of abortion that has preoccupied traditional ethics. Only by reflecting on the actual experiences of women and the conditions of domination and subordination that govern the relationships between men and women can we come to an adequate understanding of the moral issue of abortion.In Hong Kong, it is legal to perform abortion in private and public hospitals or at the Family Planning Association of Hong Kong. However, local women are not free from oppression or prejudice when they pursue abortion. Women's experiences reveal the existence of social agents in the perpetuation of an institutional power which restricts women's autonomy over reproduction and sexuality. Many medical professionals and social workers discriminate against those who choose to have an abortion. They usually impose their moral judgments and carry out a form of moral policing towards these women. Such discrimination leads women to try very hard in hiding the fact that they have an abortion. It is still a long road ahead to promote a real sense of understanding of and respect for women's choice in abortion. Public education often presents an over-simplified picture and misleading messages. Many women have yet to face the challenge of how to think beyond the framework of selfishness and self-sacrifice. This paper concludes by urging those who truly cares about the issue of abortion in Hong Kong to work hard to eliminate discrimination, to promote an understanding of women's decisions, to advocate women's sexual autonomy, to encourage equality and mutual respect in sexual relationship, and to fight for provision of more affordable quality child care services.DOWNLOAD HISTORY | This article has been downloaded 1753 times in Digital Commons before migrating into this platform.

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AbstractThe vision was to form an agreement between the government, idea-based organizations in the social sphere, and the Swedish Association of Local Authorities and Regions. One of the aims was to clarify the role of the idea-based organizations in the social sector, making it possible for them operate and compete on equal terms with the public and private actors. I was to lead a small group of people working in the ministries of Integration and Gender Equality and Ministry of Health and Social Affairs. The working group would report to Christer Hallerby and his colleague Karin Johansson.

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Abstract Background According to consensus atrial fibrillation (AF) is an irregular heart rhythm with absence of p-waves, lasting for at least 30 seconds. However, AF is most likely a continuous disease ranging from occasional bursts of AF-like activity to permanent AF, rather than a dichotomous condition. Regardless, the 30-second AF definition leaves cardiologists without clear guidelines on how to manage patients with shorter episodes of seemingly atrial fibrillation-like activity and/or an abundance of supraventricular ectopic beats. Purpose The aim of this study was to establish the prevalence and prognostic implication of frequent supraventricular ectopic beats, isolated, in bi- or trigeminy, and supraventricular tachycardias with different characteristics. Methods In the STROKESTOP I mass-screening study for AF in 75- and 76-year olds in Sweden, 7173 participants did 30-second intermittent ECG twice daily for two weeks. ECG-recordings from STROKESTOP I were re-evaluated using an automated algorithm to detect individuals with frequent supraventricular ectopic beats or runs. Detected episodes were manually re-examined to confirm the findings. The primary endpoint was atrial fibrillation as ascertained from the nationwide Swedish Patient register. Secondary endpoints were stroke and death. Median follow-up was 4.2 (3.8–4.4) years. Results Of the 6100 examined participants 85% were free of significant supraventricular arrhythmia. Frequent supraventricular ectopic beats were the most common arrhythmia, n=709 (11.6%), and irregular SVTs were more common than regular SVTs. During follow-up 387 participants developed AF, 161 had a stroke event and there were 354 deaths. Individuals with the most AF-like SVT, irregular and lacking p-waves, n=97 (1.6%), had the highest risk of developing AF (hazard ratio 4.3 (95% confidence interval 2.7–6.8), Figure 1. They also had an increased risk of death, 2.0 (1.1–3.8). We found no significant increase in stroke risk. Conclusion Progression of atrial arrhythmias from supraventricular ectopic beats to more organized arrhythmic episodes are associated with development of AF. Extended screening for AF should be considered in individuals with frequent supraventricular activity, especially in those with supraventricular tachycardias with AF characteristics. Figure 1. Kaplan-Meier curve showing primary end-point event rate (atrial fibrillation) in participants with different arrhythmias. Funding Acknowledgement Type of funding source: Private grant(s) and/or Sponsorship. Main funding source(s): This study was supported by Stiftelsen Hjärtat, Boehringer Ingelheim, The Swedish Heart and Lung Association, Capio Forskningsstiftelse and Åke Wibergs Stiftelse. STROKESTOP I was founded by Stockholm County Council, the Swedish Heart & Lung Foundation, King Gustav V and Queen Victoria's Freemasons' Foundation, the Klebergska Foundation, the Tornspiran Foundation, the Scientific Council of Halland Region, the Southern Regional Healthcare Committee, the Swedish Stroke Fund, Boehringer-Ingelheim, Bayer and Pfizer. Emma Svennberg is supported by the Stockholm County Council (Clinical postdoctorial appointment) and has received research funding from the Swedish Society of Medicine.

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Planning of Liepaja on the Baltic Sea was determined by water course and islands of the River Liva, Livonia’s land commercial and military road from Königsberg (Kaliningrad) to Riga, which led along the seashore, apart from the Curonian fishermen settlements, but through Liva or Sand village on the sandbar. The flow of the River Liva originally coincided with the flow of the River Perkone. Around the 13th century the Liva port was created for shipping, trade and transhipment of goods. After devastation of the Sand village in 1418, the mouth of the River Liva was used for shipping; in the neighborhood, around the church, houses were built. Dwelling houses gradually occupied the territory to the River Perkone. Since the 16th mid- century from the southern part, alongside with the flow of the River Liva the Great Courland-Prussia dirt road led to the crossing through Liepaja, in the widening of it Hay Market (Heumarkt) was formed. The traffic flow divided in two directions – to the Old Market (Alter Markt), in the confluence of eight streets and to the trade centre in the western end of Ungera (Avotu) Street between Peldu and Skarnu (Ludviķa) Streets. The Liva River got choked up with sand and in 1538 it did not fit for shipping. In Ducatus Curlandiae et Semigalliae the official religion was declared Lutheranism. Next to the Old Market Square St. Anna’s wooden church (around 1587) was built. Craftsmen and merchants began to build their homes in the neighborhood. The public and social center of Libava (Libau) village formed. Lifestyle and occupation of population contributed to formation of the commercial center in the port area. In the neighborhood of Diku Street, where the customs garden, the Duke’s and private warehouses were situated, craftsmen and merchants' houses with black tarred walls had been built. From 1697 to 1703 a trading port canal was built. The urban area in 1705 expanded from the southern part of Siena tirgus to the bridge over the canal at the end of Lielā Street. Swedish army left Liepaja in September of 1709. Situation at the port in 1711 was evaluated as safe and the passenger traffic increased. Near the canal crossing place, a watch house was built. In 1737 piers had been completed to built of two rows of piles in the sea. Liepaja port could accommodate large vessels and enlarge trade relations with foreign countries. A shipping and transport center formed near the port. Business activities in the 18th century influenced urban planning – locations of building and streets. Crossings and broadenings of streets formed squares. Squres are important for spatial design and organization of traffic flow in city. Planning of Liepaja as an economically active city is determined by the main road directions to the major functional areas – administrative centers and squares – where a variety of activities took place: retail, manufacturing, transport services, transshipment of goods and cultural events. Squares of appropriate size and design were created for different purposes. They affected the spatial composition of the city by acquiring architectural dominance, functionally suitable configuration, building, and visual appearance. The aim of the study is to analyze the development of Liepaja planning and its changes up to World War I, and to determine the mutual correlations between different functional area planning solutions.

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Abstract Background The risk of atherosclerosis and cardiovascular disease (CVD) is very high in SLE. This is both a clinical problem and of interest in studies of immunity in these conditions. LDL-levels are increased by Proprotein convertase subtilisin kexin 9 (PCSK9) which targets the LDL-receptor (LDLR). We recently reported that PCSK9 ameliorates dendritic cell (DC) activation by oxidized LDL (OxLDL), which is abundant in atherosclerotic plaques and also raised and associated with cardiovascular disease (CVD) in SLE. We here investigate the role of PCSK9 in SLE. Methods PCSK9-levels were determined by ELISA among SLE patients (n=109) and age- and sex-matched population-based controls (n=91). Common carotid intima-media thickness (IMT) and plaque occurrence were determined by B-mode ultrasound. Plaques were graded by echogenicity. Human peripheral blood monocytes from SLE patients or controls were differentiated into DCs. Effects of PCSK9 and its inhibition by silencing were studied. Results PCSK9-levels were non-significantly higher among SLE-patients as compared to controls but associated significantly with SLE disease activity, as determined by SLAM (0.020) or SLEDAI (0.0178). There was no association between PCSK9-levels and atherosclerosis as determined by IMT, prevalence of plaques or echolucent (potentially vulnerable) plaques. PCSK9 levels were significantly associated with CVD among SLE-patients. OxLDL induced PCSK9 in DCs and DC-maturation with increased expression of CD86 and HLA-DR. The effects were significantly stronger in DC from SLE patients than from controls. Silencing of PCSK9 abolished OxLDL-induced DC-maturation. Conclusions PCSK9 is associated with disease activity in SLE. One underlying cause could be OxLDL, promoting DC-activation which depends on PCSK9. OxLDL induces PCSK9, an effect which is higher among SLE-patients. PCSK9 could play an unexpected immunological role in SLE. Funding Acknowledgement Type of funding source: Private company. Main funding source(s): Amgen; Swedish Heart and Lung Foundation

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Abstract Background Despite recent advances in secondary prevention, recurrent cardiovascular events are common after a myocardial infarction (MI). It has been reported that genetic risk scores may predict the risk of recurrent cardiovascular events. Although patient-derived family history is a composite of both genetic and environmental heritability of atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease (ASCVD), it is an easily accessible information compared to genetically based risk models but the association with recurrent events is unknown. Purpose To evaluate whether a register-verified family history of ASCVD is associated with recurrent cardiovascular events (rASCVD) in patients after a first-time MI. Methods We included patients with a first-time MI during 2005 – 2014, registered in the SWEDEHEART SEPHIA registry and without prior ASCVD. Follow-up was available until Dec 31st, 2018. Data on relatives, diagnoses and prescriptions were extracted from national registers. A family history of ASCVD was defined as a register-verified hospitalisation due to MI, angina with coronary revascularization procedures, stroke or cardiovascular death in any parent. Early history was defined as such an event before the age of 55 years in fathers and 65 years in mothers. The association between family history and a composite outcome including recurrent MI, angina requiring acute revascularization, ischaemic stroke and cardiovascular death during follow-up was studied with Cox proportional hazard regression with time from SEPHIA registry completion as underlying time-scale, adjusted for age with splines, gender and year of SEPHIA registry. Regression models were then further adjusted for hypertension, diabetes, smoking and for a subset of patients, LDL-cholesterol (LDL_C) at time of first event. Results Of 25,615 patients, 2.5% and 32.1% had an early and ever-occurring family history of ASCVD, respectively. Patients with early family history were significantly younger than other patients and were more likely to be current smokers and have a higher LDL-C (Median (IQR) 3.5 (1.1) vs 3.3 (1.1) mmol/L). In total, 3,971 (15.5%) patients experienced the outcome. Early family history of ASCVD was significantly associated with rASCVD (Hazard ratio (HR) 1.52, 95% confidence interval (CI) 1.23–1.87), and the effect was sustained when adjusted for cardiovascular risk factors (HR 1.48, 95% CI 1.20–1.83) and LDL-C (HR 1.35, 95% CI 1.04–1.74). Ever-occurring family history was weakly associated with ASCVD (HR 1.09, 95% CI 1.02 – 1.17) and the association remained unchanged with adjustments for risk factors. Conclusions Early family history of cardiovascular disease is a potent risk factor for recurrent cardiovascular events in a secondary prevention setting, independent of traditional risk factors including LDL-C. This is a novel finding and these patients may potentially benefit from intensified secondary preventive measures after a first-time MI. Funding Acknowledgement Type of funding source: Private grant(s) and/or Sponsorship. Main funding source(s): This work was funded by grants from The Swedish Heart and Lung Association

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In PilsenTwenty-six Station Road,She climbed to the third floorUp stairs which were all that was leftOf the whole house,She opened her doorFull on to the sky,Stood gaping over the edge.For this was the placeThe world ended.Thenshe locked up carefullylest someone stealSiriusor Aldebaranfrom her kitchen,went back downstairsand settled herselfto waitfor the house to rise againand for her husband to rise from the ashesand for her children’s hands and feet to be stuck back in placeIn the morning they found herstill as stone, sparrows pecking her hands.Five Minutes after the Air Raidby Miroslav Holub(Calder 287) Holding Still Detonation. Affect. During the Second World War, London and other European cities were subjected to the terrors of aerial bombardment, rendered through nightmarish anticipations of the bomber (Gollin 7) and the material storm of the real air-raid. The fall of bombs plagued cities and their citizens with the terrible rain of explosives and incendiary weapons. A volatile landscape was formed as the urban environment was ‘unmade’ and urged into violent motion. Flying projectiles of shrapnel, debris and people; avalanches of collapsing factories and houses; the inhale and exhale of compressed air and firestorms; the scream of the explosion. All these composed an incredibly fluid urban traumatic, as atmospheres fell over the cities that was thick with smoke, dust, and ventilated only by terror (see for instance Sebald 10 and Mendieta’s 3 recent commentary). Vast craters were imprinted onto the charred morphologies of London and Berlin as well as Coventry, Hamburg and Dresden. Just as the punctuations of the bombing saw the psychic as well as the material give way, writers portraying Britain as an ‘volcano island’ (Spaight 5) witnessed eruptive projections – the volleys of the material air-war; the emotional signature of charged and bitter reprisals; pain, anguish and vengeance - counter-strikes of affect. In the midst of all of this molten violence and emotion it seems impossible that a simultaneous sense of quiescence could be at all possible. More than mere physical fixity or geographical stasis, a rather different sort of experience could take place. Preceding, during and following the excessive mobilisation of an air raid, ‘stillness’ was often used to describe certain plateuing stretches of time-space which were slowed and even stopped (Anderson 740). Between the eruptions appeared hollows of calm and even boredom. People’s nervous flinching under the reverberation of high-explosive blasts formed part of what Jordan Crandall might call a ‘bodily-inclination’ position. Slackened and taut feelings condensed around people listening out for the oncoming bomber. People found that they prepared for the dreadful wail of the siren, or relaxed in the aftermath of the attack. In these instances, states of tension and apprehension as well as calm and relief formed though stillness. The peculiar experiences of ‘stillness’ articulated in these events open out, I suggest, distinctive ways-of-being which undo our assumptions of perpetually fluid subjectivities and the primacy of the ‘body in motion’ even within the context of unparalleled movement and uncertainty (see Harrison 423 and also Rose and Wylie 477 for theoretical critique). The sorts of “musics of stillness and silence able to be discovered in a world of movement” (Thrift, Still 50), add to our understandings of the material geographies of war and terror (see for instance Graham 63; Gregory and Pred 3), whilst they gesture towards complex material-affective experiences of bodies and spaces. Stillness in this sense, denotes apprehending and anticipating spaces and events in ways that sees the body enveloped within the movement of the environment around it; bobbing along intensities that course their way through it; positioned towards pasts and futures that make themselves felt, and becoming capable of intense forms of experience and thought. These examples illustrate not a shutting down of the body to an inwardly focused position – albeit composed by complex relations and connections – but bodies finely attuned to their exteriors (see Bissell, Animating 277 and Conradson 33). In this paper I draw from a range of oral and written testimony archived at the Imperial War Museum and the Mass Observation wartime regular reports. Edited publications from these collections were also consulted. Detailing the experience of aerial bombing during the Blitz, particularly on London between September 1940 to May 1941, forms part of a wider project concerning the calculative and affective dimensions of the aeroplane’s relationship with the human body, especially through the spaces it has worked to construct (infrastructures such as airports) and destroy. While appearing extraordinary, the examples I use are actually fairly typical of the patternings of experience and the depth and clarity with which they are told. They could be taken to be representative of the population as a whole or coincidentally similar testimonials. Either way, they are couched within a specific cultural historical context of urgency, threat and unparalleled violence.Anticipations The complex material geographies of an air raid reveal the ecological interdependencies of populations and their often urban environments and metabolisms (Coward 419; Davis 3; Graham 63; Gregory The Colonial 19; Hewitt Place 257). Aerial warfare was an address of populations conceived at the register of their bio-rhythmical and metabolic relationship to their milieu (Adey). The Blitz and the subsequent Allied bombing campaign constituted Churchill’s ‘great experiment’ for governments attempting to assess the damage an air raid could inflict upon a population’s nerves and morale (Brittain 77; Gregory In Another 88). An anxious and uncertain landscape constructed before the war, perpetuated by public officials, commentators and members of parliament, saw background affects (Ngai 5) of urgency creating an atmosphere that pressurised and squeezed the population to prepare for the ‘gathering storm’. Attacks upon the atmosphere itself had been readily predicted in the form of threatening gas attacks ready to poison the medium upon which human and animal life depended (Haldane 111; Sloterdijk 41-57). One of the most talked of moments of the Blitz is not necessarily the action but the times of stillness that preceded it. Before and in-between an air raid stillness appears to describe a state rendered somewhere between the lulls and silences of the action and the warnings and the anticipatory feelings of what might happen. In the awaiting bodies, the materialites of silence could be felt as a kind-of-sound and as an atmospheric sense of imminence. At the onset of the first air-raids sound became a signifier of what was on the way (MO 408). Waiting – as both practice and sensation – imparted considerable inertia that went back and forth through time (Jeffrey 956; Massumi, Parables 3). For Geographer Kenneth Hewitt, sound “told of the coming raiders, the nearness of bombs, the plight of loved ones” (When the 16). The enormous social survey of Mass Observation concluded that “fear seems to be linked above all with noise” (original emphasis). As one report found, “It is the siren or the whistle or the explosion or the drone – these are the things that terrify. Fear seems to come to us most of all through our sense of hearing” (MO 378). Yet the power of the siren came not only from its capacity to propagate sound and to alert, but the warning held in its voice of ‘keeping silent’. “Prefacing in a dire prolepsis the post-apocalyptic event before the event”, as Bishop and Phillips (97) put it, the stillness of silence was incredibly virtual in its affects, disclosing - in its lack of life – the lives that would be later taken. Devastation was expected and rehearsed by civilians. Stillness formed a space and body ready to spring into movement – an ‘imminent mobility’ as John Armitage (204) has described it. Perched on the edge of devastation, space-times were felt through a sense of impending doom. Fatalistic yet composed expectations of a bomb heading straight down pervaded the thoughts and feelings of shelter dwellers (MO 253; MO 217). Waves of sound disrupted fragile tempers as they passed through the waiting bodies in the physical language of tensed muscles and gritted teeth (Gaskin 36). Silence helped form bodies inclined-to-attention, particularly sensitive to aural disturbances and vibrations from all around. Walls, floors and objects carried an urban bass-line of warning (Goodman). Stillness was forged through a body readied in advance of the violence these materialities signified. A calm and composed body was not necessarily an immobile body. Civilians who had prepared for the attacks were ready to snap into action - to dutifully wear their gas-mask or escape to shelter. ‘Backgrounds of expectation’ (Thrift, Still 36) were forged through non-too-subtle procedural and sequential movements which opened-out new modes of thinking and feeling. Folding one’s clothes and placing them on the dresser in-readiness; pillows and sheets prepared for a spell in the shelter, these were some of many orderly examples (IWM 14595). In the event of a gas attack air raid precautions instructions advised how to put on a gas mask (ARPD 90-92),i) Hold the breath. ii) Remove headgear and place between the knees. iii) Lift the flap of the haversack [ …] iv) Bring the face-piece towards the face’[…](v) Breathe out and continue to breathe in a normal manner The rational technologies of drill, dressage and operational research enabled poise in the face of an eventual air-raid. Through this ‘logistical-life’ (Reid 17), thought was directed towards simple tasks by minutely described instructions. Stilled LifeThe end of stillness was usually marked by a reactionary ‘flinch’, ‘start’ or ‘jump’. Such reactionary ‘urgent analogs’ (Ngai 94; Tomkins 96) often occurred as a response to sounds and movements that merely broke the tension rather than accurately mimicking an air raid. These atmospheres were brittle and easily disrupted. Cars back-firing and changing gear were often complained about (MO 371), just as bringing people out of the quiescence of sleep was a common effect of air-raids (Kraftl and Horton 509). Disorientation was usually fostered in this process while people found it very difficult to carry out the most simple of tasks. Putting one’s clothes on or even making their way out of the bedroom door became enormously problematic. Sirens awoke a ‘conditioned reflex’ to take cover (MO 364). Long periods of sleep deprivation brought on considerable fatigue and anxiety. ‘Sleep we Must’ wrote journalist Ritchie Calder (252) noticing the invigorating powers of sleep for both urban morale and the bare existence of survival. For other more traumatized members of the population, psychological studies found that the sustained concentration of shelling caused what was named ‘apathy-retreat’ (Harrisson, Living 65). This extreme form of acquiescence saw especially susceptible and vulnerable civilians suffer an overwhelming urge to sleep and to be cared-for ‘as if chronically ill’ (Janis 90). A class and racial politics of quiescent affect was enacted as several members of the population were believed far more liable to ‘give way’ to defeat and dangerous emotions (Brittain 77; Committee of Imperial Defence).In other cases it was only once an air-raid had started that sleep could be found (MO 253). The boredom of waiting could gather in its intensity deforming bodies with “the doom of depression” (Anderson 749). The stopped time-spaces in advance of a raid could be soaked with so much tension that the commencement of sirens, vibrations and explosions would allow a person overwhelming relief (MO 253). Quoting from a boy recalling his experiences in Hannover during 1943, Hewitt illustrates:I lie in bed. I am afraid. I strain my ears to hear something but still all is quiet. I hardly dare breathe, as if something horrible is knocking at the door, at the windows. Is it the beating of my heart? ... Suddenly there seems relief, the sirens howl into the night ... (Heimatbund Niedersachsen 1953: 185). (Cited in Hewitt, When 16)Once a state of still was lost getting it back required some effort (Bissell, Comfortable 1697). Cautious of preventing mass panic and public hysteria by allowing the body to erupt outwards into dangerous vectors of mobility, the British government’s schooling in the theories of panicology (Orr 12) and contagious affect (Le Bon 17; Tarde 278; Thrift, Intensities 57; Trotter 140), made air raid precautions (ARP) officers, police and civil defence teams enforce ‘stay put’ and ‘hold firm’ orders to protect the population (Jones et al, Civilian Morale 463, Public Panic 63-64; Thomas 16). Such orders were meant to shield against precisely the kinds of volatile bodies they were trying to compel with their own bombing strategies. Reactions to the Blitz were moralised and racialised. Becoming stilled required self-conscious work by a public anxious not to be seen to ‘panic’. This took the form of self-disciplination. People exhausted considerable energy to ‘settle’ themselves down. It required ‘holding’ themselves still and ‘together’ in order to accomplish this state, and to avoid going the same way as the buildings falling apart around them, as some people observed (MO 408). In Britain a cup of tea was often made as a spontaneous response in the event of the conclusion of a raid (Brown 686). As well as destroying bombing created spaces too – making space for stillness (Conradson 33). Many people found that they could recall their experiences in vivid detail, allocating a significant proportion of their memories to the recollection of the self and an awareness of their surroundings (IWM 19103). In this mode of stillness, contemplation did not turn-inwards but unfolded out towards the environment. The material processual movement of the shell-blast literally evacuated all sound and materials from its centre to leave a vacuum of negative pressure. Diaries and oral testimonies stretch out these millisecond events into discernable times and spaces of sensation, thought and the experience of experience (Massumi, Parables 2). Extraordinarily, survivors mention serene feelings of quiet within the eye of the blast (see Mortimer 239); they had, literally, ‘no time to be frightened’ (Crighton-Miller 6150). A shell explosion could create such intensities of stillness that a sudden and distinctive lessening of the person and world are expressed, constituting ‘stilling-slowing diminishments’ (Anderson 744). As if the blast-vacuum had sucked all the animation from their agency, recollections convey passivity and, paradoxically, a much more heightened and contemplative sense of the moment (Bourke 121; Thrift, Still 41). More lucid accounts describe a multitude of thoughts and an attention to minute detail. Alternatively, the enormous peaking of a waking blast subdued all later activities to relative obsolescence. The hurricane of sounds and air appear to overload into the flatness of an extended and calmed instantaneous present.Then the whistling stopped, then a terrific thump as it hit the ground, and everything seem to expand, then contract with deliberation and stillness seemed to be all around. (As recollected by Bill and Vi Reagan in Gaskin 17)On the other hand, as Schivelbusch (7) shows us in his exploration of defeat, the cessation of war could be met with an outburst of feeling. In these micro-moments a close encounter with death was often experienced with elation, a feeling of peace and well-being drawn through a much more heightened sense of the now (MO 253). These are not pre-formed or contemplative techniques of attunement as Thrift has tracked, but are the consequence of significant trauma and the primal reaction to extreme danger.TracesSusan Griffin’s haunting A Chorus of Stones documents what she describes as a private life of war (1). For Griffin, and as shown in these brief examples, stillness and being-stilled describe a series of diverse experiences endured during aerial bombing. Yet, as Griffin narrates, these are not-so private lives. A common representation of air war can be found in Henry Moore’s tube shelter sketches which convey sleeping tube-dwellers harboured in the London underground during the Blitz. The bodies are represented as much more than individuals being connected by Moore’s wave-like shapes into the turbulent aggregation of a choppy ocean. What we see in Moore’s portrayal and the examples discussed already are experiences with definite relations to both inner and outer worlds. They refer to more-than individuals who bear intimate relations to their outsides and the atmospheric and material environments enveloping and searing through them. Stillness was an unlikely state composed through these circulations just as it was formed as a means of address. It was required in order to apprehend sounds and possible events through techniques of listening or waiting. Alternatively being stilled could refer to pauses between air-strikes and the corresponding breaks of tension in the aftermath of a raid. Stillness was composed through a series of distributed yet interconnecting bodies, feelings, materials and atmospheres oriented towards the future and the past. The ruins of bombed-out building forms stand as traces even today. Just as Massumi (Sensing 16) describes in the context of architecture, the now static remainder of the explosion “envelops in its stillness a deformational field of which it stands as the trace”. The ruined forms left after the attack stand as a “monument” of the passing of the raid to be what it once was – house, factory, shop, restaurant, library - and to become something else. The experience of those ‘from below’ (Hewitt 2) suffering contemporary forms of air-warfare share many parallels with those of the Blitz. Air power continues to target, apparently more precisely, the affective tones of the body. Accessed by kinetic and non-kinetic forces, the signs of air-war are generated by the shelling of Kosovo, ‘shock and awe’ in Iraq, air-strikes in Afghanistan and by the simulated air-raids of IDF aircraft producing sonic-booms over sleeping Palestinian civilians, now becoming far more real as I write in the final days of 2008. Achieving stillness in the wake of aerial trauma remains, even now, a way to survive the (private) life of air war. AcknowledgementsI’d like to thank the editors and particularly the referees for such a close reading of the article; time did not permit the attention their suggestions demanded. Grateful acknowledgement is also made to the AHRC whose funding allowed me to research and write this paper. ReferencesAdey, Peter. Aerial Geographies: Mobilities, Bodies and Subjects. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010 (forthcoming). 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Abstract:

Neil Jordan’s Breakfast on Pluto (2005) reconceives transience and domesticity together. This queer Irish road film collapses opposition between mobility and home by uncoupling them from heteronormative structures of gender, desire, and space—male/female, public/private. The film’s protagonist, Patrick “Kitten” Braden (Cillian Murphy), wanders in search of a loved one without whom she does not feel at home. Along the way, the film exposes and exploits the doubleness of both “mobility” and “home” in the traditional road narrative, queering the conventions of the road film to convey the desire and possibilities for an alternative domesticity. In its rerouting of the traditional road plot, Breakfast on Pluto does not follow a hero escaping the obligations of home and family to find autonomy on the road. Instead, the film charts Kitten’s quest to realise a sense of home through trans-domesticity—that is, to find shelter in non-heteronormative, mutual care while in both transient and public spaces.I affix “trans-” to “domesticity” to signal both the queerness and mobility that transform understandings of domestic spaces and practices in Breakfast on Pluto. To clarify, trans-domesticity is not queer assimilation to heteronormative domesticity, nor is it a relegation of queer culture to privatised and demobilised spaces. Rather, trans-domesticity challenges the assumption that all forms of domesticity are inherently normalising and demobilising. In other words, trans-domesticity uncovers tensions and violence swept under the rugs of hegemonic domesticity. Moreover, this alternative domesticity moves between and beyond the terms of gender and spatial oppositions that delimit the normative home.Specifically, “trans-domesticity” names non-normative homemaking practices that arise out of the “desire to feel at home”, a desire that Anne-Marie Fortier identifies in queer diasporic narratives (1890-90). Accordingly, “trans-domesticity” also registers the affective processes that foster the connectedness and belonging of “home” away from private domestic spaces and places of origin, a “rethinking of the concept of home”, which Ed Madden traces in lesbian and gay migrant narratives (175-77). Building on the assumption of queer diaspora theorists “that not only can one be at home in movement, but that movement can be one’s very own home” (Rapport and Dawson 27), trans-domesticity focuses critical attention on the everyday practices and emotional labour that create a home in transience.As Breakfast on Pluto tracks its transgender protagonist’s movement between a small Irish border town, Northern Ireland, and London, the film invokes both a specifically Irish migration and the broader queer diaspora of which it is a part. While trans-domesticity is a recurring theme across a wide range of queer diasporic narratives, in Breakfast on Pluto it also simultaneously drives the plot and functions as a narrative frame. The film begins and ends with Kitten telling her story as she wanders through the streets of Soho and cares for a member of her made family, her friend Charlie’s baby.Although I am concerned with the film adaptation, Patrick McCabe’s “Prelude” to his novel, Breakfast on Pluto (1998), offers a useful point of departure: Patrick “puss*” Braden’s dream, “as he negotiates the minefields of this world”, is “ending, once and for all, this ugly state of perpetual limbo” and “finding a map which might lead to that place called home” (McCabe x). In such a place, McCabe’s hero might lay “his head beneath a flower-bordered print that bears the words at last ‘You’re home’”(McCabe xi). By contrast, the film posits that “home” is never a “place” apart from “the minefields of this world”, and that while being in transit and in limbo might be a perpetual state, it is not necessarily an ugly one.Jordan’s film thus addresses the same questions as does Susan Fraiman in her book Extreme Domesticity: “But what about those for whom dislocation is not back story but main event? Those who, having pulled themselves apart, realize no timely arrival at a place of their own, so that being not-unpacked is an ongoing condition?” (155). Through her trans-domestic shelter-making and caregiving practices, Kitten enacts “home” in motion and in public spaces, and thereby realises the elision in the flower-bordered print in McCabe’s “Prelude” (xi), which does not assure “You are at home” but, rather, “You are home”.From Housed to Trans-Domestic SubjectivitySelf and home are equated in the dominant cultural narratives of Western modernity, but “home” in such formulations is assumed to be a self-owned, self-contained space. Psychoanalytic theorist Carl Jung describes this Ur-house as “a concretization of the individuation process, […] a symbol of psychic wholeness” (225). Philosopher Gaston Bachelard sees in the home “the topography of our intimate being”, a structure that “concentrates being within limits that protect” (xxxii). However, as historian Carolyn Steedman suggests, the mythic house that has become “the stuff of our ‘cultural psychology,’ the system of everyday metaphors by which we see ourselves”, is far from universal; rather, it reflects “the topography of the houses” of those who stand “in a central relationship to the dominant culture” (75, 17).For others, the lack of such housing correlates with political marginalisation, as the house functions as both a metaphor and material marker for culturally-recognised selfhood. As cultural geographer John Agnew argues, in capitalist societies the self-owned home is both a sign of autonomous individuality and a prerequisite for full political subjectivity (60). Philosopher Rosi Braidotti asserts that this figuration of subjectivity in “the phallo-Eurocentric master code” treats as “disposable” the “bodies of women, youth, and others who are racialised or marked off by age, gender, sexuality, and income” (6). These bodies are “reduced to marginality” and subsequently “experience dispossession of their embodied and embedded selves, in a political economy of repeated and structurally enforced eviction” (Braidotti 6).To shift the meaning of “home” and the intimately-linked “self” from a privately-owned, autonomous structure to trans-domesticity, to an ethos of care enacted even, and especially in, transient and public spaces, is not to romanticise homelessness or to deny the urgent necessity of material shelter. Breakfast on Pluto certainly does not allow viewers to do either. Rather, the figure of a trans-domestic self, like Braidotti’s “nomadic subject”, has the potential to challenge and transform the terms of power relations. Those now on the margins might then be seen as equally-embodied selves and full political subjects with the right to shelter and care.Such a political project also entails recognising and revaluing—without appropriating and demobilising—existing trans-domesticity. As Fraiman argues, “domesticity” must be “map[ped] from the margins” in order to include the homemaking practices of gender rebels and the precariously housed, of castaways and outcasts (4-5). This alternative map would allow “outsiders to normative domesticity” to “claim domesticity while wrenching it away from such things as compulsory heterosexuality […] and the illusion of a safely barricaded life” (Fraiman 4-5). Breakfast on Pluto shares in this re-mapping work by exposing the violence embedded in heteronormative domestic structures, and by charting the radical political potential of trans-domesticity.Unsettling HousesIn the traditional road narrative, “home” tends to be a static, confining structure from which the protagonist escapes, a space that then functions as “a structuring absence” on the road (Robertson 271). Bachelard describes this normative structure as a “dream house” that constitutes “a body of images that give mankind proofs or illusions of stability” (17); the house functions, Henri Lefebvre argues, as “the epitome of immobility” (92). Whether the dream is to escape and/or to return, “to write of houses”, as Adam Hanna asserts, “is to raise ideas of shelters that are fixed and secure” (113).Breakfast on Pluto quickly gives lie to those expectations. Kitten is adopted by Ma Braden (Ruth McCabe), a single woman who raises Kitten and her adopted sister in domestic space that is connected to, and part of, a public house. That spatial contiguity undermines any illusion of privacy and security, as is evident in the scene in which a school-aged Kitten, who thought herself safely home alone and thus able to dress in her mother’s and sister’s clothes, is discovered in the act by her mother and sister from the pub’s street entrance. Further, the film lays bare the built-in mechanisms of surveillance and violence that reinforce heteronormative, patriarchal structures. After discovering Kitten in women’s clothes, Ma Braden violently scrubs her clean and whacks her with a brush until Kitten says, “I’m a boy, not a girl”. The public/house space facilitates Ma Braden’s close monitoring of Kitten thereafter.As a young writer in secondary school, Kitten satirises the violence within the hegemonic home by narrating the story of the rape of her biological mother, Eily Bergin (Eva Birthistle), by Kitten’s father, Father Liam (Liam Neeson) in a scene of hyper-domesticity set in the rectory kitchen. As Patrick Mullen notes, “the rendition of the event follows the bubble-gum logic and tone of 1950s Hollywood culture” (130). The relationship between the ideal domesticity thereby invoked and the rape then depicted exposes the sexual violence for what it is: not an external violation of the double sanctity of church and home space, but rather an internal and even intrinsic violence that reinforces and is shielded by the power structures from which normative domesticity is never separate.The only sense of home that seems to bind Kitten to her place of origin is based in her affective bonds to friends Charlie (Ruth Negga) and Lawrence (Seamus Reilly). When Lawrence is killed by a bomb, Kitten is no longer at home, and she leaves town to search for the “phantom” mother she never knew. The impetus for Kitten’s wandering, then, is connection rather than autonomy, and neither the home she leaves, nor the sense of home she seeks, are fixed structures.Mobile Homes and Queering of the Western RoadBreakfast on Pluto tracks how the oppositions that seem to structure traditional road films—such as that between home and mobility, and between domestic and open spaces—continually collapse. The film invokes the “cowboy and Indian” mythology from which the Western road narrative descends (Boyle 19), but to different ends: to capture a desire for non-heteronormative affective bonds rather than “lone ranger” autonomy, and to convey a longing for domesticity on the trail, for a home that is both mobile and open. Across the past century of Irish fiction and film, “cowboy and Indian” mythology has often intersected with queer wandering, from James Joyce’s Dubliners story “An Encounter” (1914) to Lenny Abrahamson’s film Adam & Paul (2004). In this tradition, Breakfast on Pluto queers “cowboy and Indian” iconography to convey an alternative conception of domesticity and home. The prevailing ethos in the film’s queered Western scenes is of trans-domesticity—of inclusion and care during transience and in open spaces. After bar bouncers exclude Kitten and friends because of her transgenderism and Lawrence’s Down syndrome, “The Border Knights” (hippie-bikers-cum-cowboys) ride to their rescue and bring them to their temporary home under the stars. Once settled around the campfire, the first biker shares his philosophy with a cuddled-up Kitten: “When I’m riding my hog, you think I’m riding the road? No way, man. I’m travelling from the past into the future with a druid at my back”. “Druid man or woman?” Kitten asks. “That doesn’t matter”, the biker clarifies, “What matters is the journey”. What matters is not place as fixed destination or gender as static difference, but rather the practice of travelling with open relationships to space, to time, and to others. The bikers welcome all to their fire and include both Kitten and Lawrence in their sharing of jokes and joints. The only exclusion is of reference to political violence, which Charlie’s boyfriend, Irwin (Laurence Kinlan), tries to bring into the conversation.Further, Kitten uses domesticity to try to establish a place for herself while on the road with “Billy Hatchett and The Mohawks”, the touring band that picks her up when she leaves Ma Braden’s. As Mullen notes, “Kitten literally works herself into the band by hand sewing a ‘squaw’ outfit to complement the group’s glam-rock Native American image” (Mullen 141). The duet that Kitten performs with Billy (Gavin Friday), a song about a woman inviting “a wandering man” to share the temporary shelter of her campfire, invokes trans-domesticity. But the film intercuts their performance with scenes of violent border-policing: first, by British soldiers at a checkpoint who threaten the group and boast about the “13 less to deal with” in Derry, and then by members of the Republican Prisoners Welfare Association, who throw cans at the group and yell them off stage. A number of critics have noted the postcolonial implications of Breakfast on Pluto’s use of Native American iconography, which in these intercut scenes clearly raises the national stakes of constructions of domestic belonging (see, for instance, Winston 153-71). In complementary ways, the film queers “cowboy and Indian” mythology to reimagine “mobility” and “home” together.After Kitten is forced out by the rest of the band, Billy sets her up in a caravan, a mobile home left to him by his mother. Though Billy “wouldn’t exactly call it a house”, Kitten sees in it her first chance at a Bachelardian “dream house”: she calls it a “house of dreams and longing” and cries, “Oh, to have a little house, to own the hearth, stool, and all”. Kitten ecstatically begins to tidy the place, performing what Fraiman terms a “hyper-investment in homemaking” that functions “as compensation for domestic deprivation” (20).Aisling Cormack suggests that Kitten’s hyper-investment in homemaking signals the film’s “radical disengagement with politics” to a “femininity that is inherently apolitical” (169-70). But that reading holds only if viewers assume a gendered, spatial divide between public and private, and between the political and the domestic. As Fraiman asserts, “the political meaning of fixating on domestic arrangements is more complex […] For the poor or transgendered person, the placeless immigrant or the woman on her own, aspiring to a safe, affirming home doesn’t reinforce hierarchical social relations but is pitched, precisely, against them” (20).Trans-Domesticity as Political ActEven as Kitten invokes the idea of a Bachelardian dream house, she performs a trans-domesticity that exposes the falseness of the gendered, spatial oppositions assumed to structure the normative home. Her domesticity is not an apolitical retreat; rather, it is pitched, precisely, against the violence that public/private and political/domestic oppositions enable within the house, as well as beyond it. As she cleans, Kitten discovers that violence is literally embedded in her caravan home when she finds a cache of Irish Republican Army (IRA) guns under the floor. After a bomb kills Lawrence, Kitten throws the guns into a reservoir, a defiant act that she describes to the IRA paramilitaries who come looking for the guns as “spring cleaning”. Cormack asserts that Kitten “describing her perilous destruction of the guns in terms of domestic labor” strips it “of all political significance” (179). I argue instead that it demonstrates the radical potential of trans-domesticity, of an ethos of care-taking and shelter-making asserted in public and political spaces. Kitten’s act is not apolitical, though it is decidedly anti-violence.From the beginning of Breakfast on Pluto, Kitten’s trans-domesticity exposes the violence structurally embedded in heteronormative domestic ideology. Additionally, the film’s regular juxtaposition of scenes of Kitten’s homemaking practices with scenes of political violence demonstrates that no form of domesticity functions as a private, apolitical retreat from “the minefields of this world” (McCabe x). This latter counterpoint throws into relief the political significance of Kitten’s trans-domesticity. Her domestic practices are her means of resisting and transforming the structural violence that poses an existential threat to marginalised and dispossessed people.After Kitten is accused of being responsible for an IRA bombing in London, the ruthless, violent interrogation of Kitten by British police officers begins to break down her sense of self. Throughout this brutal scene, Kitten compulsively straightens the chairs and tidies the room, and she responds to her interrogators with kindness and even affection. Fraiman’s theorisation of “extreme domesticity” helps to articulate how Kitten’s homemaking in carceral space—she calls it “My Sweet Little Cell”—is an “urgent” act that, “in the wake of dislocation”, can mean “safety, sanity, and self-expression; survival in the most basic sense” (25). Cormack reads Kitten’s reactions in this scene as “masoch*stic” and the male police officers’ nurturing response as of a piece with the film’s “more-feminine-than-feminine disengagement from political realities” (185-89). However, I disagree: Kitten’s trans-domesticity is a political act that both sustains her within structures that would erase her and converts officers of the state to an ethos of care and shelter. Inspector Routledge, for example, gently carries Kitten back to her cell, and after her release, PC Wallis ensures that she is safely (if not privately) housed with a cooperatively-run peep show, the address at which an atoning Father Liam locates her in London.After Kitten and a pregnant Charlie are burned out of the refuge that they temporarily find with Father Liam, Kitten and Charlie return to London, where Charlie’s baby is born soon after into the trans-domesticity that opens the film. Rejoining the story’s frame, Breakfast on Pluto ends close to where it begins: Kitten and the baby meet Charlie outside a London hospital, where Kitten sees Eily Bergin with her new son, Patrick. Instead of meeting where their paths intersect, the two families pass each other and turn in opposite directions. Kitten now knows that hers is both a different road and a different kind of home. “Home”, then, is not a place gained once and for all. Rather, home is a perpetual practice that does not separate one from the world, but can create the shelter of mutual care as one wanders through it.The Radical Potential and Structural Limits of Trans-DomesticityBreakfast on Pluto demonstrates the agency that trans-domesticity can afford in the lives of marginalised and dispossessed individuals, as well as the power of the structures that militate against its broader realisation. The radical political potential of trans-domesticity manifests in the transformation in the two police officers’ relational practices. Kitten’s trans-domesticity also inspires a reformation in Father Liam, the film’s representative of the Catholic Church and a man whose relationship to others transmutes from sexual violence and repressive secrecy to mutual nurturance and inclusive love. Although these individual conversions do not signify changes in structures of power, they do allow viewers to imagine the possibility of a state and a church that cherish, shelter, and care for all people equally. The film’s ending conveys this sense of fairy-tale-like possibility through its Disney-esque chattering birds and the bubble-gum pop song, “Sugar Baby Love”.In the end, the sense of hopefulness that closes Breakfast on Pluto coexists with the reality that dominant power structures will not recognise Kitten’s trans-domestic subjectivity and family, and that those structures will work to contain any perceived threat, just as the Catholic Church banishes the converted Father Liam to Kilburn Parish. That Kitten and Charlie nevertheless realise a clear contentment in themselves and in their made family demonstrates the vital importance of trans-domesticity and other forms of “extreme domesticity” in the lives of those who wander.ReferencesAgnew, John. “Home Ownership and Identity in Capitalist Societies.” Housing and Identity: Cross Cultural Perspectives. Ed. James S. Duncan. New York: Holmes and Meier, 1982. 60–97.Bachelard, Gaston. The Poetics of Space. 1957. Trans. Maria Jolas. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969.Boyle, Kevin Jon, ed. Rear View Mirror: Automobile Images and American Identities. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000.Braidotti, Rosi. Nomadic Subjects: Embodiment and Sexual Difference in Contemporary Feminist Theory. 2nd ed. New York: Columbia University Press, 2011.Breakfast on Pluto. Dir. Neil Jordan. Pathé Pictures International, 2005.Cormack, Aisling B. “Toward a ‘Post-Troubles’ Cinema? The Troubled Intersection of Political Violence and Gender in Neil Jordan’s The Crying Game and Breakfast on Pluto.” Éire-Ireland 49.1–2 (2014): 164–92.Fortier, Anne-Marie. “Queer Diaspora.” Handbook of Lesbian and Gay Studies. Eds. Diane Richardson and Steven Seidman. London: Sage Publishing, 2002. 183–97.Fraiman, Susan. Extreme Domesticity: A View from the Margins. New York: Columbia University Press, 2017.Hanna, Adam. Northern Irish Poetry and Domestic Space. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015. Jung, Carl. Memories, Dreams, Reflections. 1957. Ed. Aniela Jaffe. Trans. Clara Winston and Richard Winston. New York: Vintage Books, 1989.Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Social Space. Trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991.Madden, Ed. “Queering the Irish Diaspora: David Rees and Padraig Rooney.” Éire-Ireland 47.1–2 (2012): 172–200.McCabe, Patrick. Breakfast on Pluto. London: Picador, 1998.Mullen, Patrick R. The Poor Bugger’s Tool: Irish Modernism, Queer Labor, and Postcolonial History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.Rapport, Nigel, and Andrew Dawson. Migrants of Identity: Perceptions of ‘Home’ in a World of Movement. Oxford: Berg, 1998.Robertson, Pamela. “Home and Away: Friends of Dorothy on the Road in Oz.” The Road Movie Book. Eds. Steven Cohen and Ina Rae Hark. London: Routledge, 1997. 271–306.Steedman, Carolyn. Landscape for a Good Woman: A Story of Two Lives. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1987.Winston, Greg. “‘Reluctant Indians’: Irish Identity and Racial Masquerade.” Irish Modernism and the Global Primitive. Eds. Maria McGarrity and Claire A. Culleton. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009. 153–71.

Abstract:

As a mode of open access public self-expression, blogs are one form of the unfolding massification of culture (Lovink). Though widely varied in content and style, they are characterised by a reverse chronological diary-like format, often produced by a single author, and often intimately expressive of that author’s thoughts and experiences. The purpose of this paper is to explore the use of blogs as a space for the detailed and on-going expression of the day to day experiences of sufferers of serious illness. We might traditionally consider the experience of illness as absolutely private, but illness, along with the process of recovery, retains a social and cultural aspect (Kleinman et al). A growing body of literature has recognised that the Internet has become a significant space for the recovery work that accompanies the diagnosis of serious illness (Orgad; Pitts; Hardey). Empowerment and agency are often emphasised in this literature, particularly in terms of the increased access to information and support groups, but also in the dynamic performances of self enabled by different forms of online communication and Web production. I am particularly interested in the ongoing shifts in the accessibility of “private” personal experience enabled by blog culture. Although there are thousands of others like them, three “illness blogs” have recently caught my attention for their candidness, completeness and complexity, expressing in vivid depth and detail individual lives transformed by serious illness. The late US journalist and television producer Leroy Sievers maintained a high profile blog, My Cancer, and weekly podcast on the National Public Radio website until his death from metastasised colon cancer in August 2008. Sievers used his public profile and the infrastructure of the NPR website to both detail his personal experience and bring together a community of people also affected by cancer or moved by his thoughts and experiences. The blogger Brainhell came to my attention through blogsphere comments and tributes when he died in February 2008. Spanning more than four years, Brainhell’s witty and charming blog attracted a significant audience and numerous comments, particularly toward the end of his life as the signs of his deteriorating motor system as a result of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS, or “Lou Gherig’s disease”) riddled his intimate posts. Another blog of interest to me here, called Humanities Researcher, incorporates academic Stephanie Trigg’s period of illness and recovery from breast cancer within a pre-existing and ongoing blog about the intersection between professional and personal life. As I had crossed paths with Trigg while at Melbourne University, I was always interested in her blog. But her diagnosis with breast cancer and subsequent accounts of tests, the pain and debilitation of treatment and recovery within her blog also offer valuable insight into the role of online technologies in affecting experiences of illness and for the process of recovery.The subject matter of illness blogs revolves around significant personal transformations as a result of serious illness or trauma: transformations of everyday life, of body and emotional states, relationships, physical appearance, and the loss or recovery of physical ability. It is not my intention in this brief analysis to overgeneralise on the basis of some relatively limited observations. However, many blogs written in response to illness stand out for what they reveal about the shifting location or locatability of self, experience and the events of ongoing illness and thus how we can conceptualise the inherent “privacy” of illness as personal experience. Self-expression here is encompassing of the possibilities through which illness can be experienced – not as representation of that experience, a performance of a disembodied self (though these notions have their merits) – but an expressive element of the substance of the illness as it is experienced over time, as it affects the bodies, thoughts, events and relationships of individuals moving toward a state of full recovery or untimely death. Locating Oneself OnlineMany authors currently examining the role of online spaces in the lives of sufferers of serious illness see online communication as providing a means for configuring experience as a meaningful and coherent story, and thus conferring, or we could say recovering, a sense of agency amidst a tumultuous and ongoing battle with serious illness (Orgad, Pitts). In her study of breast cancer discussion forums, message boards and websites, Orgad (4) notes their role in regaining “the fundamentals disturbed by cancer” (see also Bury). Well before the emergence of online spaces, the act or writing has been seen as “a crucial affirmation of living, a statement against fearfulness, invisibility and silence” (Orgad, 67; Lorde, 61). For many decades scientists have asserted that “brief structured writing sessions can significantly improve mental and physical health for some groups of people” (Singer and Singer 485). The Internet has provided an infrastructure for bringing personal experiences of illness into the public realm, enabling a new level of visibility. Much of the work on illness and the Internet focuses on the liberatory and empowering act of story telling and “disembodied” self-expression. Discussion forums and cancer websites enable the formation of patient led “discourse communities” (Wuthnow). Online spaces such as discussion forums help their participants gain a foothold within a world they share with other sufferers, building communities of practice (Wegner) around specific forms of illness. In this way, these forms of self-expression and communication enable the sufferer of serious illness to counter the modes by which they are made “subjects”, in the Foucauldian sense, of medical discourse. All illness narratives are defined and constructed socially, and are infused with relations of power (Sontag; Foucault, Birth of the Clinic). Forms of online communication have shifted productive practice from professions to patients. Blogs, like discussion forums, websites, email lists etc., have come to play a central role in this contemporary shift. When Lovink (6) describes blogs as a “technology of the self” he points to their role in “self-fashioning”. Blogs written about and in the context of personal illness are a perfect example of this inclination to speak the truth of oneself in the confessional mode of modern culture borne of the church, science and talkshow television. For Foucault (Technologies of the Self, 17), technologies of the self: Permit individuals to effect by their own means or with the help of others a certain number of operations on their own bodies and souls, thoughts, conduct and way of being, so as to transform themselves in order to attain a state of happiness, purity, wisdom, perfection, immortality. Likewise, as a central concept for understanding Internet identity, the notion of performance (eg, Turkle) highlights the creativity with which illness bloggers may present their role as cancer patient in online spaces, perhaps as an act of resistance to “subjectifying” medical discourses and practices. Many bloggers wrest semiotic power through regular discussion of the language of pathology and medical knowledge, treatment processes and drugs. In the early stages of her treatment, Trigg plays with the new vocabulary, searching for etiologies and making her own semantic connections: I’ve learnt two new words. “Spiculated” describes the characteristic shape of a carcinoma on an ultrasound or x-ray. …The other word is at the other end of the spectrum of linguistic beauty: “lumpectomy”. It took me quite a while to realise that this was not really any different from partial mastectomy; or local excision. It’s an example of the powerful semantic connotations of words to realise that these phrases name the same processes: a long cut, and then the extraction of the diseased tissue (Humanities Researcher, 14 Oct. 2006).Partly due to the rarity of his illness, Brainhell goes through weeks of waiting for a diagnosis, and posts prolifically in an attempt to test out self-diagnoses. Amidst many serious and humorous posts analysing test results and discussing possible diagnoses Brainhell reflects on his targeted use of the blog: I am a word person. I think in sentences. I often take complex technical problems at work and describe them to myself in words. A story helps me understand things better. This blog has become a tool for me to organize my own thoughts about the Mystery Condition. (Brainhell, 6 Jan. 2004)The emancipatory potential of blog writing, however, can be easily overstated. While it is valuable to note and celebrate the performative potential of online production, and its “transformative” role as a technology of the self, it is easy to fall back on an unproblematic distinction between the actual and the virtual, the experience of illness, and its representation in online spaces. Textual expression should always refer us to the extra-textual practices that encompass it without imposing an artificial hierarchy of online and offline, actual experience and representation. As with other forms of online communication and production, the blog culture that has emerged around forms of serious illness plays a significant role in transforming our concepts of the relationship between online and offline spaces. In his My Cancer blog, Sievers often refers to “Cancer World”. He notes, for example, the many “passing friends” he makes in Cancer World through the medical staff and other regular patients at the radiation clinic, and refers to the equipment that sustains his life as the accoutrements of this world. His blog posts revolved around an articulation of the intricacies of this “world” that is in some ways a means of making sense of that world, but is also expressive of it. Sievers tries to explain the notion of Cancer World as a transformation of status between insider & outsider: “once we cross over into Cancer World, we become strangers in a strange land. What to expect, what to hope for, what to fear – none of those are clear right now” (My Cancer, 30 June 2008). Part of his struggle with the illness is also with the expression of himself as encompassed by this new “world” of the effects and activities of cancer. In a similar way, in her Humanities Researcher blog Trigg describes in beautiful detail the processes, routines and relationships formed during radiation treatment. I see these accounts of the textures of cancer spaces as lying at the point of juncture between expression and experience, not as a disembodied, emancipatory realm free from the fetters of illness and the everyday “real” self, but always encompassed by, and encompassing them, and in this way shifting what might be understood to remain “private” in personal experience and self-expression. Blogs as Public Diary Axel Bruns (171), following Matthew Rothenberg, characterises blogs as an accessible technological extension of the personal home page, gaining popularity in the late 1990s because they provided more easy to use templates and web publishing tools than earlier webpage applications. Personalised self expression is a defining element. However, the temporal quality of the reverse chronological, timestamped entry is equally significant for Bruns (171). Taking a broader focus to Bruns, who is most interested in the potential democratisation of media in news related blogs, Lovink sees the experimentation with a “public diary” format as fundamental, signalling their “productive contradiction between public and private” (Lovink 6). A diary may be written for posterity but it is primarily a secretive mode of communication. While blogs may mirror the temporal form of a diary, their intimate focus on self-expression of experience, thoughts and feelings, they do so in a very different communicative context.Despite research suggesting that a majority of bloggers report that they post primarily “for themselves” (Lenhart and Fox) – meaning that they do not deliberately seek a broad audience or readership – the step of making experiences and thoughts so widely accessible cannot be overlooked in any account of blogging. The question of audience or readership, for example, concerns Trigg in her Humanities Researcher blog: The immediacy of a blog distinguishes it from a journal or diary. I wrote for myself, of course, but also for a readership I could measure and chart and hear from, sometimes within minutes of posting. Mostly I don’t know who my readers are, but the kindness and friendship that come to me through the blog gave me courage to write about the intimacies of my treatment; and to chart the emotional upheaval it produced. (Trigg)In their ability to produce a comprehensive expression of the events, experiences, thoughts and feelings of an individual, blogs differ to other forms of online communication such as discussion forums or email lists. Illness blogs are perhaps an extreme example, an open mode of self-expression often arising abruptly in reaction to a life transforming diagnosis and tracking the process of recovery or deterioration, usually ending with remission or death. Brainhell’s blog begins with MRI results, and a series of posts about medical examination and self-examination regarding his mystery condition: So the MRI shows there is something on my brain that is not supposed to be there. The doctor thinks it is not a tumor. That would be good news. …As long as you are alive and have someone to complain to, you ain’t bad off. I am alive and I am complaining about a mystery spot on my brain, and lazy limbs. (Brainhell, 24 Dec. 2003)Brainhell spent many weeks documenting his search for a diagnosis, and continued writing up to his final deterioration and death in 2008. His final posts convey his physical deterioration in truncated sentences, spelling errors and mangled words. In one post he expresses his inability to wake his caregiver and to communicate his distress and physical discomfort at having to pee: when he snorted on waking, i shrieked and he got me up. splayed uncomfortably in the wc as he put dry clothes on me, i was gifted with his words: “you choose this, not me. you want to make it hard, what can i do?” (Brainhell, 13 Jan. 2008). The temporal and continuous format of the blog traverses the visceral, corporeal transformations of body and thought over time. The diary format goes beyond a straightforward narrative form in being far more experiential and even experimental in its self-reflective expression of the events of daily life, thoughts, feelings and states of being. Its public format bears directly on its role in shaping the communicative context in which that expression takes place, and thus to an extent shapes the experience of the illness itself. Nowhere does the expressive substance of the blog so fully encompass the possibilities through which the illness could be experienced than in the author’s death. At this point the blog feels like it is more than a catalogue, dialogue or self-presentation of a struggle with illness. It may take on the form of a memorial (see for example Tom’s Road to Recovery) – a recovery of the self expressed in the daily physical demise, through data maintained in the memory of servers. Ultimately the blog stands as a complex trace of the life lived within its posts. Brainhell’s lengthy blog exemplifies this quite hauntingly. Revealing the Private in Public Blogs exemplify a further step in the transformation of notions of public and private brought about by information and screen technologies. McQuire (103) refers to contemporary screen and Internet culture as “a social setting in which personal identity is subject to new exigencies”. Reality television, such as Big Brother, has promoted “a new mode for the public viewing of private life” (McQuire 114) contributing to the normalisation of open access to personal, intimate revelations, actions and experiences. However, privacy is “an elusive concept” that relates as much to information and property as to self-expression and personal experience (McCullagh). That is, what we consider private to an individual is itself constituted by our variable categories of personal information, material or immaterial possessions, or what counts as an expression of personal experience. Some analysts of online storytelling in the context of illness recognise the unsustainability of the distinction between public and private, but nonetheless rely on the notion of a continuum upon which activities or events could be considered as experienced in a public or private space (Orgad, 129-133). One of the characteristics of a blog, unlike other forms of online communication such as chat, discussion forums and email, is its predominantly public and openly accessible form. Though many illness bloggers do not seem to seek anonymity or hold back in allowing massive access to their self-expression and personal experience, a tension always seems to be there in the background. Identification through the proper name simply implies potential broader effects of blog writing, a pairing of the personal expressions with the person who expresses them in broader daily interactions and relationships. As already “public” figures, Stephanie Trigg and Leroy Sievers choose to forego anonymity, while Brainhell adopted his alias from the beginning and guarded his anonymity carefully. Each of these bloggers, however, shows signs of grappling with the public character of their site, and the interaction between the blog and their everyday life and relationships. In his etiquette page, Brainhell seems unclear about his readership, noting that his blog is for “friends and soul-mates, and complete strangers too”, but that he has not shared it with his family or all of his friends. He goes on to say: You may not have been invited but you are still welcome here. I made it public so that anyone could read it. Total strangers are welcome. Invited friends are welcome. But of those invited friends, I ask you to ask me before you out me as the blog author, or share the blog with other people who already know me. (Brainhell, 18 Feb. 2004) After his death Ratty took steps to continue to maintain his anonymity, vetting many comments and deleting others to “honor BH’s wishes as he outline in ‘Ettiquett for This Blog”’ (Brainhell, 2 Feb. 2008). In Leroy Sievers’ blog, one post exploring the conflict raised by publicly “sharing” his experiences provoked an interesting discussion. He relays a comment sent to him by a woman named Cherie: I have stage four colorectal cancer with liver mets. This is a strange journey, one I am not entirely sure I can share with my loved ones. I am scared it might rob them of the hope I see in their eyes. The hope which I sometimes don’t believe in. (My Cancer, 26 July 2006) Sievers struggles with this question: “How do you balance the need to talk about what is happening to you with the tears of a close friend when you tell him or her the truth? There’s no simple answer.” The blog, in this sense, seems to offer a more legitimate space for the ongoing, detailed expression of these difficult and affective, and traditionally private experiences. In some posts the privacy of the body and bodily experiences is directly challenged or re-negotiated. Stephanie Trigg was concerned with the effect of the blog on her interactions with colleagues. But another interesting dilemma presents itself to her when she is describing the physical effects of cancer, surgery and radiation treatment on her breast, and forces herself to hold back from comparing with the healthy breast: “it's not a medical breast, so I can't write about it here” (Humanities Researcher, 10 Jan. 2007). One prostate cancer blogger, identified as rdavisjr, seems to have no difficulties expressing the details of a physical intrusion on his “privacy” in the far more open forum of his blog: The pull-around ceiling mounted screen was missing (laundry?), so Kelly was called into the room and told to make a screen with a bed sheet. So here I am with one woman sticking her finger up my ass, while another woman is standing in front of the door holding an outstretched bed sheet under her chin (guess she wanted a view!)The screen was necessary to ensure my privacy in the event someone accidentally came into the room, something they said was a common thing. Well, Kelly peering over that sheet was hardly one of my more private moments in life! (Prostate Cancer Journal, 23 Feb. 2001). ConclusionWhatever emancipatory benefits may be found in expressing the most intimate of experiences and events of a serious illness online, it is the creative act of the blog as self-expression here, in its visceral, comprehensive, continuous timestamped format that dismantles the sense of privacy in the name of recovery. The blog is not the public face of private personal experience, but expressive of the life encompassed by that illness, and encompassing its author’s ongoing personal transformation. The blogs discussed here are not alone in demonstrating these practices. The blog format itself may soon evolve or disappear. Nonetheless, the massification enabled by Internet technologies and applications will continue to transform the ways in which personal experience may be considered private. ReferencesBruns, Axel. Gatewatching: Collaborative Online News Production. New York: Peter Lang, 2005.Bury, Michael. “Chronic Illness as Biographical Disruption.” Sociology of Health and Illness, 4.2 (1982): 167-182.Foucault, Michel. Birth of the Clinic: An Archaeology of Medical Perception. Trans. A.M. Sheridan. London: Tavistock, 1973.———. “Technologies of the Self” Technologies of the Self: A Seminar with Michel Foucault. Ed. Luther H. Martin, Huck Gutman, Patrick M. Hutton, 1988: 16-49. Hardey, Michael. “‘The Story of My Illness’: Personal Accounts of Illness on the Internet.” Health 6.1 (2002): 31-46Kleinman, Arthur, Veena Das, and Margaret Lock, eds. Social Suffering. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997. Lenhart, Amanda, and Susannah Fox. Bloggers: A Portrait of the Internet’s New Storytellers. Washington: PEW Internet and American Life Project, 2006. Lorde, Audre. The Cancer Journals. San Francisco: Spinsters Ink, 1980.Lovink, Geert. Zero Comments: Blogging and Critical Internet Culture. London: Routledge, 2008. McCullagh, Karen. “Blogging: Self Presentation and Privacy.” Information and Communications Technology Law 17.1 (2008): 3-23. McQuire, Scott. “From Glass Architecture to Big Brother: Scenes from a Cultural History of Transparency.” Cultural Studies Review 9.1 (2003): 103-123.Orgad, Shani. Storytelling Online: Talking Breast Cancer on the Internet. New York: Peter Lang, 2005. Pitts, Victoria. “Illness and Internet Empowerment: Writing and Reading Breast Cancer in Cyberspace.” Health 8.1 (2004): 33-59.Rothenberg, Matthew. “Weblogs, Metadata, and the Semantic Web”, paper presented at the Association of Internet Researchers conference, Toronto, 16 Oct. 2003. ‹http://aoir.org/members/papers42/rothenberg_aoir.pdf›.Singer, Jessica, and George H.S. Singer. “Writing as Physical and Emotional Healing: Findings from Clinical Research.” Handbook of Research on Writing: History, Society, School, Individual, Text. Ed. Charles Bazerman. New York: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2008: 485-498. Sontag, Susan. Illness as Metaphor; And, AIDS and Its Metaphors. London: Penguin, 1991. Trigg, Stephanie. “Life Lessons.” Sunday Age, 10 June 2007. Turkle, Sherry. Life on the Screen: Identity in the Age of the Internet. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1995. Wenger, Etienne. Communities of Practice: Learning, Meaning and Identity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Wuthnow, Robert. Communities of Discourse: Ideology and Social Structure in the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and European Socialism. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1989.BlogsBrainhell. ‹http://brainhell.blogspot.com/›. rdavisjr. Prostate Cancer Journal. ‹http://pcjournal-rrd.blogspot.com/›. Sievers, Leroy. My Cancer. ‹http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/›. Tom’s Road to Recovery. ‹http://tomsrecovery.blog.com/›. Trigg, Stephanie. Humanities Researcher. ‹http://stephanietrigg.blogspot.com/›.

Abstract:

It is often heard, and even more often seen written, for example on social media, that that there is nothing new in the competitive intelligence (CI) field. There are no new ideas, the ideas that are being expressed are the same old, there is no development, there is, at best, stagnation. Even the old claim that CI is dead[1] reappears with a certain frequency[2]: “Competitive intelligence as a profession is dead. There are fewer and fewer full-time, dedicated CI professionals in organizations, and even fewer legitimate CI departments or functions. The need to understand an organization’s competitors has been diffused to several other functions including market research, finance, sales, R&D and others. What the founders of the profession - Jan Herring, Leonard Fuld, and Ben Gilad - built through the 80s and 90s no longer exists. And organizations are the worse off for it”[3]. Is this true? Yes and No. From a research perspective CI has developed and emerged with information technology (IT) solutions over the past ten years. It has come to the point where it does not make much sense to talk about new CI practices. Most advancements and developments are now about IT solutions and applications. This has again given rise to a whole new world of intelligence related problems and opportunities, not only for engineers but for users of these technologies. It is probably fair to say that the intelligence perspective has never been as important for businesses as it is today. Companies and organizations have never collected and analyzed as much information. Another way to explain this development is to say that CI has evolved, thus is no longer the same. Trying to look for the same or insisting that it has not changed gives the impression that there is nothing new in CI. CI consists of an interesting body of literature, but it was not the first term to deal with questions of intelligence in private organizations, and it is not the last. Before CI there was social intelligence, strategic intelligence and corporate intelligence with their own consultants and literature. As Sawka rightly points out CI was a label used in the 80s and 90s. Other terms used include market intelligence, marketing intelligence, business intelligence, collective intelligence, financial intelligence, scientific and technical intelligence, foresight, insight, and equivalent terms in other languages, like “l’information stratégique et de la sécurité économiques” (Sisse) [previously “intelligence économique"], “veille” in French and “omvärldsanalys” in Swedish. All these fields, where a field is defined as a body of literature, basically study the same phenomenon, how to gather information to make better decisions. As such intelligence studies is a part of the information age. The information age gave birth to several bodies of literature, of which the more established include information systems, management information systems and customer relations management. The intelligence perspective never really caught on among business scholars, maybe because it was associated with industrial espionage. The intelligence parallel in business is also a bet, the argument that private organizations are better organized as intelligence organizations, much like in state and/or military organizations. The idea is that this will give better information, which again will lead to a competitive advantage. So far, this bet has not caught on. Business organizations continue to be organized much as they were a hundred years ago: into production, sales, marketing, HR, finance and accounting. However, the way people work in all of these departments with ever larger amounts of information and data is starting to look more like intelligence operatives with their extensive system of files. In other words, the CI position never really saw a breakthrough, but CI has become an ever more important part of employees’ jobs, as a function.How can we then explain the frequently raised discussion related to the problems of CI? Let me suggest two answers, one general, the other more specific. Once we create something, we insist that it has either to exist, as it is, or it must disappear, thus at the end it is declared dead. This is the western mind at work, thinking in dichotomies, a thing either exist or it does not exist. There is no room for evolution, only constants. If a phenomenon such as a discipline evolves, we shouldn’t say that it’s dead, it just isn’t the same anymore, and nothing is more natural than that. So, what must change is rather the way in which we think about the fields we study. The other suggestion is that the critic of CI has more to do with another problem, the selling of consulting services. The market for consultancy services is highly segmented and fiercely competitive. As consultants we are trying to make a name for ourselves in a niche we can call our own and strive to be an acknowledged expert in it. This takes years, often a whole career. Academic careers are created much according to the same logic so the problem is the same there. The underlying message is “this is my area”, my niche, and as such I will defend it. What often happens is that another persons’ or group’s area grows into our own and sometimes is better at explaining the reality of our business problem, thus challenging our very raison d'être. Instead we insist that we are still relevant refusing to read up on other areas. We cease to be curious and the very business problems we study pass on to others. Some would argue this is what happened to CI.So, where is CI today? There certainly are many answers to this question. One suggestion is that it is more often treated as business intelligence again (it very much started there, but then without the IT association), data mining, search engine optimization, social media marketing and digital marketing in general. It suffices to look at the articles in this issue to find other examples: Bleoju et al. write about how MOOCs can be used to teach intelligence. Sperkova writes about customer experience (CX) and voice of customer (VoC). Poblano-Ojinaga et al. write about structural equation modeling for the identification of the intelligence factors. All authors have that in common that the are studying how organizations handle intelligence.In more detail, the first article by Bleoju et al. entitled “Empirical evidence from a connectivist competitive intelligence massive open online course (CI cMOOC) proof of concept” reveals how “the CI learning community perceives the capability of a cMOOC to train foreknowledge practices, given the best match between its content and context.” The paper argues for “an open intelligence approach to cMOOC collective training.”The second article by Maune entitled “Competitive intelligence as a game changer for Africa’s competitiveness in the global economy” develops a conceptual framework for how competitive intelligence can be adopted by African countries to improve their performance in the global economy.The third article by Sperkova entitled “Integration of textual VoC into a CX data model for business intelligence use in B2C” is a summary of her PhD, which will be defended in February 2020 at the University of Economics in Prague, the Department of Information Technologies. The author presents a model to store the customer experience (CX) and voice of customer (VoC) data as part of a business intelligence system. The model can help to improve customer relationships and make future performance more automatic and effective.The fourth article by Palilingan and Batmetan Entitled “How competitive intelligence can be used to improve a management vocational high school: A case from Indonesia” shows how competitive intelligence can be applied to make a vocational high school more efficient.The fifth and last article by Poblano-Ojinaga et al. entitled “Effect of the competitive intelligence on the innovation capability: an exploratory study in Mexican companies”, is an investigation using a methodology of structural equation modeling for the identification of the intelligence factors, to evaluate their relative importance and relationships with the innovation capability of Mexican companies. The empirical results show that the relationship between competitive intelligence and the innovation capability is indirect, with knowledge management as a mediating factor.Some news worth mentioning: we would like to thank the Swedish Research Council/ NOP-HS for receiving the “large” grant for Open Access journals for two years starting in 2020. JISIB is now indexed by Crossref, which should give users direct access to PDF full text through databases like Scopus and Web of Science. The SCIP organization, owned by Frost & Sullivan, has been reignited with a new executive director. We wish them good luck. There are numerous conferences on intelligence related topics this spring and next winter. See the JISIB website for details. Some of the editors of JISIB will be at the ICI in Bad Nauheim 11-14 May 2020. We hope to see you there.As always, we would above all like to thank the authors for their contributions to this issue of JISIB. Thanks to Dr. Allison Perrigo for reviewing English grammar and helping with layout design for all articles.[1] Sawka, Kenneth. (2010). The death of the competitive intelligence professional. Outward Insights, 13(2), 36-39.[2] Sawka, Kenneth. The death of the competitive intelligence professional. Retrieved January 30, 2020 from https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:6627549366062194688[3] Idem

Abstract:

Al Gore brought climate change into … our living rooms. … The 2008 oil price hikes [and the global financial crisis] awakened the world to potential economic hardship in a rapidly urbanising world where the petrol-driven automobile is still king. (Mouritz 47) Six hundred million cars (Urry, “Climate Change” 265) traverse the world’s roads, or sit idly in garages and clogging city streets. The West’s economic progress has been built in part around the success of the automotive industry, where the private car rules the spaces and rhythms of daily life. The problem of “automobile dependence” (Newman and Kenworthy) is often cited as one of the biggest challenges facing countries attempting to combat anthropogenic climate change. Sociologist John Urry has claimed that automobility is an “entire culture” that has re-defined movement in the contemporary world (Urry Mobilities 133). As such, it is the single most significant environmental challenge “because of the intensity of resource use, the production of pollutants and the dominant culture which sustains the major discourses of what constitutes the good life” (Urry Sociology 57-8). Climate change has forced a re-thinking of not only how we produce and dispose of cars, but also how we use them. What might a society not dominated by the private, petrol-driven car look like? Some of the pre-eminent writers on climate change futures, such as Gwynne Dyer, James Lovelock and John Urry, discuss one possibility that might emerge when oil becomes scarce: societies will descend into civil chaos, “a Hobbesian war of all against all” where “regional warlordism” and the most brutish, barbaric aspects of human nature come to the fore (Urry, “Climate Change” 261). Discussing a post-car society, John Urry also proffers another scenario in his “sociologies of the future:” an Orwellian “digital panopticon” in which other modes of transport, far more suited to a networked society, might emerge on a large scale and, in the long run, “might tip the system” into post-car one before it is too late (Urry, “Climate Change” 261). Amongst the many options he discusses is car sharing. Since its introduction in Germany more than 30 years ago, most of the critical literature has been devoted to the planning, environmental and business innovation aspects of car sharing; however very little has been written on its cultural dimensions. This paper analyses this small but developing trend in many Western countries, but more specifically its emergence in Sydney. The convergence of climate change discourse with that of the global financial crisis has resulted in a focus in the mainstream media, over the last few months, on technologies and practices that might save us money and also help the environment. For instance, a Channel 10 News story in May 2009 focused on the boom in car sharing in Sydney (see: http://www.youtube.com/watch? v=EPTT8vYVXro). Car sharing is an adaptive technology that doesn’t do away with the car altogether, but rather transforms the ways in which cars are used, thought about and promoted. I argue that car sharing provides a challenge to the dominant consumerist model of the privately owned car that has sustained capitalist structures for at least the last 50 years. In addition, through looking at some marketing and promotion tactics of car sharing in Australia, I examine some emerging car sharing subjectivities that both extend and subvert the long-established discourses of the automobile’s flexibility and autonomy to tempt monogamous car buyers into becoming philandering car sharers. Much literature has emerged over the last decade devoted to the ubiquitous phenomenon of automobility. “The car is the literal ‘iron cage’ of modernity, motorised, moving and domestic,” claims Urry (“Connections” 28). Over the course of twentieth century, automobility became “the dominant form of daily movement over much of the planet (dominating even those who do not move by cars)” (Paterson 132). Underpinning Urry’s prolific production of literature is his concept of automobility. This he defines as a complex system of “intersecting assemblages” that is not only about driving cars but the nexus between “production, consumption, machinic complexes, mobility, culture and environmental resource use” (Urry, “Connections” 28). In addition, Matthew Paterson, in his Automobile Politics, asserts that “automobility” should be viewed as everything that makes driving around in a car possible: highways, parking structures and traffic rules (87). While the private car seems an inevitable outcome of a capitalistic, individualistic modern society, much work has gone into the process of naturalising a dominant notion of automobility on drivers’ horizons. Through art, literature, popular music and brand advertising, the car has long been associated with seductive forms of identity, and societies have been built around a hegemonic culture of car ownership and driving as the pre-eminent, modern mode of self-expression. And more than 50 years of a popular Hollywood film genre—road movies—has been devoted to glorifying the car as total freedom, or in its more nihilistic version, “freedom on the road to nowhere” (Corrigan). As Paterson claims, “autonomous mobility of car driving is socially produced … by a range of interventions that have made it possible” (18). One of the main reasons automobility has been so successful, he claims, is through its ability to reproduce capitalist society. It provided a commodity around which a whole set of symbols, images and discourses could be constructed which served to effectively legitimise capitalist society. (30) Once the process is locked-in, it then becomes difficult to reverse as billions of agents have adapted to it and built their lives around “automobility’s strange mixture of co-ercion and flexibility” (Urry, “Climate Change” 266). The Decline of the Car Globally, the greatest recent rupture in the automobile’s meta-narrative of success came about in October 2008 when three CEOs from the major US car firms (General Motors, Ford and Chrysler) begged the United States Senate for emergency loan funds to avoid going bankrupt. To put the economic significance of this into context, Emma Rothschild notes “when the listing of the ‘Fortune 500’ began in 1955, General Motors was the largest American corporation, and it was one of the three largest, measured in revenues, every year until 2007” (Rothschilds, “Can we transform”). Curiously, instead of focusing on the death of the car (industry), as we know it, that this scenario might inevitably herald, much of the media attention focused on the hypocrisy and environmental hubris of the fact that all the CEOs had flown in private luxury jets to Washington. “Couldn’t they have at least jet-pooled?” complained one Democrat Senator (Wutkowski). In their next visit to Washington, most of them drove up in experimental vehicles still in pre-production, including plug-in hybrids. Up until that point no other manufacturing industry had been bailed out in the current financial crisis. Of course it’s not the first time the automobile industries have been given government assistance. The Australian automotive industry has received on-going government subsidies since the 1980s. Most recently, PM Kevin Rudd granted a 6.2 billion dollar ‘green car’ package to Australian automotive manufacturers. His justification to the growing chorus of doubts about the economic legitimacy of such a move was: “Some might say it's not worth trying to have a car industry, that is not my view, it is not the view of the Australian government and it never will be the view of any government which I lead” (The Australian). Amongst the many reasons for the government support of these industries must include the extraordinary interweaving of discourses of nationhood and progress with the success of the car industry. As the last few months reveal, evidently the mantra still prevails of “what’s good for the country is good for GM and vice versa”, as the former CEO of General Motors, Charles “Engine” Wilson, argued back in 1952 (Hirsch). In post-industrial societies like Australia it’s not only the economic aspects of the automotive industries that are criticised. Cars seem to be slowly losing their grip on identity-formation that they managed to maintain throughout “the century of the car” (Gilroy). They are no longer unproblematically associated with progress, freedom, youthfulness and absolute autonomy. The decline and eventual death of the automobile as we know it will be long, arduous and drawn-out. But there are some signs of a post-automobile society emerging, perhaps where cars will still be used but they will not dominate our society, urban space and culture in quite the same way that they have over the last 50 years. Urry discusses six transformations that might ‘tip’ the hegemonic system of automobility into a post-car one. He mentions new fuel systems, new materials for car construction, the de-privatisation of cars, development of communications technologies and integration of networked public transport through smart card technology and systems (Urry, Mobilities 281-284). As Paterson and others have argued, computers and mobile phones have somehow become “more genuine symbols of mobility and in turn progress” than the car (157). As a result, much automobile advertising now intertwines communications technologies with brand to valorise mobility. Car sharing goes some way in not only de-privatising cars but also using smart card technology and networked systems enabling an association with mobility futures. In Automobile Politics Paterson asks, “Is the car fundamentally unsustainable? Can it be greened? Has the car been so naturalised on our mobile horizons that we can’t imagine a society without it?” (27). From a sustainability perspective, one of the biggest problems with cars is still the amount of space devoted to them; highways, garages, car parks. About one-quarter of the land in London and nearly one-half of that in Los Angeles is devoted to car-only environments (Urry, “Connections” 29). In Sydney, it is more like a quarter. We have to reduce the numbers of cars on our roads to make our societies livable (Newman and Kenworthy). Car sharing provokes a re-thinking of urban space. If one quarter of Sydney’s population car shared and we converted this space into green use or local market gardens, then we’d have a radically transformed city. Car sharing, not to be confused with ‘ride sharing’ or ‘car pooling,’ involves a number of people using cars that are parked centrally in dedicated car bays around the inner city. After becoming a member (much like a 6 or 12 monthly gym membership), the cars can be booked (and extended) by the hour via the web or phone. They can then be accessed via a smart card. In Sydney there are 3 car sharing organisations operating: Flexicar (http://www.flexicar.com.au/), CharterDrive (http://www.charterdrive.com.au/) and GoGet (http://www.goget.com.au/).[1] The largest of these, GoGet, has been operating for 6 years and has over 5000 members and 200 cars located predominantly in the inner city suburbs. Anecdotally, GoGet claims its membership is primarily drawn from professionals living in the inner-urban ring. Their motivation for joining is, firstly, the convenience that car sharing provides in a congested, public transport-challenged city like Sydney; secondly, the financial savings derived; and thirdly, members consider the environmental and social benefits axiomatic. [2] The promotion tactics of car sharing seems to reflect this by barely mentioning the environment but focusing on those aspects which link car sharing to futuristic and flexible subjectivities which I outline in the next section. Unlike traditional car rental, the vehicles in car sharing are scattered through local streets in a network allowing local residents and businesses access to the vehicles mostly on foot. One car share vehicle is used by 22-24 members and gets about seven cars off the street (Mehlman 22). With lots of different makes and models of vehicles in each of their fleets, Flexicar’s website claims, “around the corner, around the clock” “Flexicar offers you the freedom of driving your own car without the costs and hassles of owning one,” while GoGet asserts, “like owning a car only better.” Due to the initial lack of interest from government, all the car sharing organisations in Australia are privately owned. This is very different to the situation in Europe where governments grant considerable financial assistance and have often integrated car sharing into pre-existing public transport networks. Urry discusses the spread of car sharing across the Western world: Six hundred plus cities across Europe have developed car-sharing schemes involving 50,000 people (Cervero, 2001). Prototype examples are found such as Liselec in La Rochelle, and in northern California, Berlin and Japan (Motavalli, 2000: 233). In Deptford there is an on-site car pooling service organized by Avis attached to a new housing development, while in Jersey electric hire cars have been introduced by Toyota. (Urry, “Connections” 34) ‘Collaborative Consumption’ and Flexible, Philandering Subjectivities Car sharing shifts the dominant conception of a car from being a ‘commodity’, which people purchase and subsequently identify with, to a ‘service’ or network of vehicles that are collectively used. It does this through breaking down the one car = one person (or one family) ratio with one car instead servicing 20 or more people. One of Paterson’s biggest criticisms concerns car driving as “a form of social exclusion” (44). Car sharing goes some way in subverting the model of hyper-individualism that supports both hegemonic automobility and capitalist structures, whereby the private motorcar produces a “separation of individuals from one another driving in their own private universes with no account for anyone else” (Paterson 90). As a car sharer, the driver has to acknowledge that this is not their private domain, and the car no longer becomes an extension of their living room or bedroom, as is noted in much literature around car cultures (Morris, Sheller, Simpson). There are a community of people using the car, so the driver needs to be attentive to things like keeping the car clean and bringing it back on time so another person can use it. So while car sharing may change the affective relationship and self-identification with the vehicle itself, it doesn’t necessarily change the phenomenological dimensions of car driving, such as the nostalgic pleasure of driving on the open road, or perhaps more realistically in Sydney, the frustration of being caught in a traffic jam. However, the fact the driver doesn’t own the vehicle does alter their relationship to the space and the commodity in a literal as well as a figurative way. Like car ownership, evidently car sharing also produces its own set of limitations on freedom and convenience. That mobility and car ownership equals freedom—the ‘freedom to drive’—is one imaginary which car firms were able to successfully manipulate and perpetuate throughout the twentieth century. However, car sharing also attaches itself to the same discourses of freedom and pervasive individualism and then thwarts them. For instance, GoGet in Sydney have run numerous marketing campaigns that attempt to contest several ‘self-evident truths’ about automobility. One is flexibility. Flexibility (and associated convenience) was one thing that ownership of a car in the late twentieth century was firmly able to affiliate itself with. However, car ownership is now more often associated with being expensive, a hassle and a long-term commitment, through things like buying, licensing, service and maintenance, cleaning, fuelling, parking permits, etc. Cars have also long been linked with sexuality. When in the 1970s financial challenges to the car were coming as a result of the oil shocks, Chair of General Motors, James Roche stated that, “America’s romance with the car is not over. Instead it has blossomed into a marriage” (Rothschilds, Paradise Lost). In one marketing campaign GoGet asked, ‘Why buy a car when all you need is a one night stand?’, implying that owning a car is much like a monogamous relationship that engenders particular commitments and responsibilities, whereas car sharing can just be a ‘flirtation’ or a ‘one night stand’ and you don’t have to come back if you find it a hassle. Car sharing produces a philandering subjectivity that gives individuals the freedom to have lots of different types of cars, and therefore relationships with each of them: I can be a Mini Cooper driver one day and a Falcon driver the next. This disrupts the whole kind of identification with one type of car that ownership encourages. It also breaks down a stalwart of capitalism—brand loyalty to a particular make of car with models changing throughout a person’s lifetime. Car sharing engenders far more fluid types of subjectivities as opposed to those rigid identities associated with ownership of one car. Car sharing can also be regarded as part of an emerging phenomenon of what Rachel Botsman and Roo Rogers have called “collaborative consumption”—when a community gets together “through organized sharing, swapping, bartering, trading, gifting and renting to get the same pleasures of ownership with reduced personal cost and burden, and lower environmental impact” (www.collaborativeconsumption.com). As Urry has stated, these developments indicate a gradual transformation in current economic structures from ownership to access, as shown more generally by many services offered and accessed via the web (Urry Mobilities 283). Rogers and Botsman maintain that this has come about through the “convergence of online social networks increasing cost consciousness and environmental necessity." In the future we could predict an increasing shift to payment to ‘access’ for mobility services, rather than the outright private ownerships of vehicles (Urry, “Connections”). Networked-Subjectivities or a ‘Digital Panopticon’? Cars, no longer able on their own to signify progress in either technical or social terms, attain their symbolic value through their connection to other, now more prevalently ‘progressive’ technologies. (Paterson 155) The term ‘digital panopticon’ has often been used to describe a dystopian world of virtual surveillance through such things as web-enabled social networking sites where much information is public, or alternatively, for example, the traffic surveillance system in London whereby the public can be constantly scrutinised through the centrally monitored cameras that track people’s/vehicle’s movements on city streets. In his “sociologies of the future,” Urry maintains that one thing which might save us from descending into post-car civil chaos is a system governed by a “digital panopticon” mobility system. This would be governed by a nexus system “that orders, regulates, tracks and relatively soon would ‘drive’ each vehicle and monitor each driver/passenger” (Urry, “Connections” 33). The transformation of mobile technologies over the last decade has made car sharing, as a viable business model, possible. Through car sharing’s exploitation of an online booking system, and cars that can be tracked, monitored and traced, the seeds of a mobile “networked-subjectivity” are emerging. But it’s not just the technology people are embracing; a cultural shift is occurring in the way that people understand mobility, their own subjectivity, and more importantly, the role of cars. NETT Magazine did a feature on car sharing, and advertised it on their front cover as “GoGet’s web and mobile challenge to car owners” (May 2009). Car sharing seems to be able to tap into more contemporary understandings of what mobility and flexibility might mean in the twenty-first century. In their marketing and promotion tactics, car sharing organisations often discursively exploit science fiction terminology and generate a subjectivity much more dependent on networks and accessibility (158). In the suburbs people park their cars in garages. In car sharing, the vehicles are parked not in car bays or car parks, but in publically accessible ‘pods’, which promotes a futuristic, sci-fi experience. Even the phenomenological dimensions of swiping a smart card over the front of the windscreen to open the car engender a transformation in access to the car, instead of through a key. This is service-technology of the future while those stuck in car ownership are from the old economy and the “century of the car” (Gilroy). The connections between car sharing and the mobile phone and other communications technologies are part of the notion of a networked, accessible vehicle. However, the more problematic side to this is the car under surveillance. Nic Lowe, of his car sharing organisation GoGet says, “Because you’re tagged on and we know it’s you, you are able to drive the car… every event you do is logged, so we know what time you turned the key, what time you turned it off and we know how far you drove … if a car is lost we can sound the horn to disable it remotely to prevent theft. We can track how fast you were going and even how fast you accelerated … track the kilometres for billing purposes and even find out when people are using the car when they shouldn’t be” (Mehlman 27). The possibility with the GPS technology installed in the car is being able to monitor speeds at which people drive, thereby fining then every minute spent going over the speed limit. While this conjures up the notion of the car under surveillance, it is also a much less bleaker scenario than “a Hobbesian war of all against all”. Conclusion: “Hundreds of Cars, No Garage” The prospect of climate change is provoking innovation at a whole range of levels, as well as providing a re-thinking of how we use taken-for-granted technologies. Sometime this century the one tonne, privately owned, petrol-driven car will become an artefact, much like Sydney trams did last century. At this point in time, car sharing can be regarded as an emerging transitional technology to a post-car society that provides a challenge to hegemonic automobile culture. It is evidently not a radical departure from the car’s vast machinic complex and still remains a part of what Urry calls the “system of automobility”. From a pro-car perspective, its networked surveillance places constraints on the free agency of the car, while for those of the deep green variety it is, no doubt, a compromise. Nevertheless, it provides a starting point for re-thinking the foundations of the privately-owned car. While Urry makes an important point in relation to a society moving from ownership to access, he doesn’t take into account the cultural shifts occurring that are enabling car sharing to be attractive to prospective members: the notion of networked subjectivities, the discursive constructs used to establish car sharing as a thing of the future with pods and smart cards instead of garages and keys. If car sharing became mainstream it could have radical environmental impacts on things like urban space and pollution, as well as the dominant culture of “automobile dependence” (Newman and Kenworthy), as Australia attempts to move to a low carbon economy. Notes [1] My partner Bruce Jeffreys, together with Nic Lowe, founded Newtown Car Share in 2002, which is now called GoGet. [2] Several layers down in the ‘About Us’ link on GoGet’s website is the following information about the environmental benefits of car sharing: “GoGet's aim is to provide a reliable, convenient and affordable transport service that: allows people to live car-free, decreases car usage, improves local air quality, removes private cars from local streets, increases patronage for public transport, allows people to lead more active lives” (http://www.goget.com.au/about-us.html). References The Australian. “Kevin Rudd Throws $6.2bn Lifeline to Car Industry.” 10 Nov. 2008. < http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/business/story/ 0,28124,24628026-5018011,00.html >.Corrigan, Tim. “Genre, Gender, and Hysteria: The Road Movie in Outer Space.” A Cinema Without Walls: Movies, Culture after Vietnam. New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1991. Dwyer, Gwynne. Climate Wars. North Carlton: Scribe, 2008. Featherstone, Mike. “Automobilities: An Introduction.” Theory, Culture and Society 21.4-5 (2004): 1-24. Gilroy, Paul. “Driving while Black.” Car Cultures. Ed. Daniel Miller. Oxford: Berg, 2000. Hirsch, Michael. “Barack the Saviour.” Newsweek 13 Nov. 2008. < http://www.newsweek.com/id/168867 >. Lovelock, James. The Revenge of Gaia: Earth’s Climate Crisis and the Fate of Humanity. Penguin, 2007. Lovelock, James. The Vanishing Face of Gaia. Penguin, 2009. Mehlman, Josh. “Community Driven Success.” NETT Magazine (May 2009): 22-28. Morris, Meaghan. “Fate and the Family Sedan.” East West Film Journal 4.1 (1989): 113-134. Mouritz, Mike. “City Views.” Fast Thinking Winter 2009: 47-50. Newman, P. and J. Kenworthy. Sustainability and Cities: Overcoming Automobile Dependence. Washington DC: Island Press, 1999. Paterson, Matthew. Automobile Politics: Ecology and Cultural Political Economy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Rothschilds, Emma. Paradise Lost: The Decline of the Auto-Industrial Age. New York: Radom House, 1973. Rothschilds, Emma. “Can We Transform the Auto-Industrial Society?” New York Review of Books 56.3 (2009). < http://www.nybooks.com/articles/22333 >. Sheller, Mimi. “Automotive Emotions: Feeling the Car.” Theory, Culture and Society 21 (2004): 221–42. Simpson, Catherine. “Volatile Vehicles: When Women Take the Wheel.” Womenvision. Ed. Lisa French. Melbourne: Damned Publishing, 2003. 197-210. Urry, John. Sociology Beyond Societies: Mobilities for the 21st Century. London: Routledge, 2000. Urry, John. “Connections.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 22 (2004): 27-37. Urry, John. Mobilities. Cambridge, and Maiden, MA: Polity Press, 2008. Urry, John. “Climate Change, Travel and Complex Futures.” British Journal of Sociology 59. 2 (2008): 261-279. Watts, Laura, and John Urry. “Moving Methods, Travelling Times.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 26 (2008): 860-874. Wutkowski, Karey. “Auto Execs' Private Flights to Washington Draw Ire.” Reuters News Agency 19 Nov. 2008. < http://www.reuters.com/article/newsOne/idUSTRE4AI8C520081119 >.

Abstract:

IntroductionThe walking tour is an enduring feature of cities. Fuelled by a desire to learn more about the hidden and unknown spaces of the city, the walking tour has moved beyond its historical role as tourist attraction to play a key role in the transformation of urban space through gentrification. Conversely, the walking tour has a counter-history as part of a critical urban praxis. This article reflects on historical examples, as well as our own experience of conducting Field Trip, a critical geographical walking tour through an industrial precinct in Marrickville, a suburb of Sydney that is set to undergo rapid change as a result of high-rise residential apartment construction (Gibson et al.). This precinct, known as Carrington Road, is located on the unceded land of the Cadigal and Wangal people of the Eora nation who call the area Bulanaming.Drawing on a long history of philosophical walking, many contemporary writers (Solnit; Gros; Bendiner-Viani) have described walking as a practice that can open different ways of thinking, observing and being in the world. Some have focused on the value of walking to the study of place (Hall; Philips; Heddon), and have underscored its relationship to established research methods, such as sensory ethnography (Springgay and Truman). The work of Michel de Certeau pays particular attention to the relationship between walking and the city. In particular, the concepts of tactics and strategy have been applied in a variety of ways across cultural studies, cultural geography, and urban studies (Morris). In line with de Certeau’s thinking, we view walking as an example of a tactic – a routine and often unconscious practice that can become a form of creative resistance.In this sense, walking can be a way to engage in and design the city by opposing its structures, or strategies. For example, walking in a city such as Sydney that is designed for cars requires choosing alternative paths, redirecting flows of people and traffic, and creating custom shortcuts. Choosing pedestrianism in Sydney can certainly feel like a form of resistance, and we make the argument that Field Trip – and walking tours more generally – can be a way of doing this collectively, firstly by moving in opposite directions, and secondly, at incongruent speeds to those for whom the scale and style of strategic urban development is inevitable. How such tactical walking relates to the design of cities, however, is less clear. Walking is a generally described in the literature as an individual act, while the design of cities is, at its best participatory, and always involving multiple stakeholders. This reveals a tension between the practice of walking as a détournement or appropriation of urban space, and its relationship to existing built form. Field Trip, as an example of collective walking, is one such appropriation of urban space – one designed to lead to more democratic decision making around the planning and design of cities. Given the anti-democratic, “post-political” nature of contemporary “consultation” processes, this is a seemingly huge task (Legacy et al.; Ruming). We make the argument that Field Trip – and walking tours more generally – can be a form of collective resistance to top-down urban planning.By using an open-source wiki in combination with the Internet Archive, Field Trip also seeks to collectively document and make public the local knowledge generated by walking at the frontier of gentrification. We discuss these digital choices as oppositional practice, and consider the idea of tactical media (Lovink and Garcia; Raley) in order to connect knowledge sharing with the practice of walking.This article is structured in four parts. Firstly, we provide a historical introduction to the relationship between walking tours and gentrification of global cities. Secondly, we examine the significance of walking tours in Sydney and then specifically within Marrickville. Thirdly, we discuss the Field Trip project as a citizen-led walking tour and, finally, elaborate on its role as tactical media project and offer some conclusions.The Walking Tour and Gentrification From the outset, people have been walking the city in their own ways and creating their own systems of navigation, often in spite of the plans of officialdom. The rapid expansion of cities following the Industrial Revolution led to the emergence of “imaginative geographies”, where mediated representations of different urban conditions became a stand-in for lived experience (Steinbrink 219). The urban walking tour as mediated political tactic was utilised as far back as Victorian England, for reasons including the celebration of public works like the sewer system (Garrett), and the “othering” of the working class through upper- and middle-class “slum tourism” in London’s East End (Steinbrink 220). The influence of the Situationist theory of dérive has been immense upon those interested in walking the city, and we borrow from the dérive a desire to report on the under-reported spaces of the city, and to articulate alternative voices within the city in this project. It should be noted, however, that as Field Trip was developed for general public participation, and was organised with institutional support, some aspects of the dérive – particularly its disregard for formal structure – were unable to be incorporated into the project. Our responsibility to the participants of Field Trip, moreover, required the imposition of structure and timetable upon the walk. However, our individual and collective preparation for Field Trip, as well as our collective understanding of the area to be examined, has been heavily informed by psychogeographic methods that focus on quotidian and informal urban practices (Crosby and Searle; Iveson et al).In post-war American cities, walking tours were utilised in the service of gentrification. Many tours were organised by real estate agents with the express purpose of selling devalorised inner-city real estate to urban “pioneers” for renovation, including in Boston’s South End (Tissot) and Brooklyn’s Park Slope, among others (Lees et al 25). These tours focused on a symbolic revalorisation of “slum neighbourhoods” through a focus on “high culture”, with architectural and design heritage featuring prominently. At the same time, urban socio-economic and cultural issues – poverty, homelessness, income disparity, displacement – were downplayed or overlooked. These tours contributed to a climate in which property speculation and displacement through gentrification practices were normalised. To this day, “ghetto tours” operate in minority neighbourhoods in Brooklyn, serving as a beachhead for gentrification.Elsewhere in the world, walking tours are often voyeuristic, featuring “locals” guiding well-meaning tourists through the neighbourhoods of some of the world’s most impoverished communities. Examples include the long runningKlong Toei Private Tour, through “Bangkok’s oldest and largest slum”, or the now-ceased Jakarta Hidden Tours, which took tourists to the riverbanks of Jakarta to see the city’s poorest before they were displaced by gentrification.More recently, all over the world activists have engaged in walking tours to provide their own perspective on urban change, attempting to direct the gentrifier’s gaze inward. Whilst the most confrontational of these might be the Yuppie Gazing Tour of Vancouver’s historically marginalised Downtown Eastside, other tours have highlighted the deleterious effects of gentrification in Williamsburg, San Francisco, Oakland, and Surabaya, among others. In smaller towns, walking tours have been utilised to highlight the erasure of marginalised scenes and subcultures, including underground creative spaces, migrant enclaves, alternative and queer spaces. Walking Sydney, Walking Marrickville In many cities, there are now both walking tours that intend to scaffold urban renewal, and those that resist gentrification with alternative narratives. There are also some that unwittingly do both simultaneously. Marrickville is a historically working-class and migrant suburb with sizeable populations of Greek and Vietnamese migrants (Graham and Connell), as well as a strong history of manufacturing (Castles et al.), which has been undergoing gentrification for some time, with the arts playing an often contradictory role in its transformation (Gibson and Homan). More recently, as the suburb experiences rampant, financialised property development driven by global flows of capital, property developers have organised their own self-guided walking tours, deployed to facilitate the familiarisation of potential purchasers of dwellings with local amenities and ‘character’ in precincts where redevelopment is set to occur. Mirvac, Marrickville’s most active developer, has designed its own self-guided walking tour Hit the Marrickville Pavement to “explore what’s on offer” and “chat to locals”: just 7km from the CBD, Marrickville is fast becoming one of Sydney’s most iconic suburbs – a melting pot of cuisines, creative arts and characters founded on a rich multicultural heritage.The perfect introduction, this self-guided walking tour explores Marrickville’s historical architecture at a leisurely pace, finishing up at the pub.So, strap on your walking shoes; you're in for a treat.Other walking tours in the area seek to highlight political, ecological, and architectural dimension of Marrickville. For example, Marrickville Maps: Tropical Imaginaries of Abundance provides a series of plant-led walks in the suburb; The Warren Walk is a tour organised by local Australian Labor Party MP Anthony Albanese highlighting “the influence of early settlers such as the Schwebel family on the area’s history” whilst presenting a “political snapshot” of ALP history in the area. The Australian Ugliness, in contrast, was a walking tour organised by Thomas Lee in 2016 that offered an insight into the relationships between the visual amenity of the streetscape, aesthetic judgments of an ambiguous nature, and the discursive and archival potentialities afforded by camera-equipped smartphones and photo-sharing services like Instagram. Figure 1: Thomas Lee points out canals under the street of Marrickville during The Australian Ugliness, 2016.Sydney is a city adept at erasing its past through poorly designed mega-projects like freeways and office towers, and memorialisation of lost landscapes has tended towards the literary (Berry; Mudie). Resistance to redevelopment, however, has often taken the form of spectacular public intervention, in which public knowledge sharing was a key goal. The Green Bans of the 1970s were partially spurred by redevelopment plans for places like the Rocks and Woolloomooloo (Cook; Iveson), while the remaking of Sydney around the 2000 Olympics led to anti-gentrification actions such as SquatSpace and the Tour of Beauty, an “aesthetic activist” tour of sites in the suburbs of Redfern and Waterloo threatened with “revitalisation.” Figure 2: "Tour of Beauty", Redfern-Waterloo 2016. What marks the Tour of Beauty as significant in this context is the participatory nature of knowledge production: participants in the tours were addressed by representatives of the local community – the Aboriginal Housing Company, the local Indigenous Women’s Centre, REDWatch activist group, architects, designers and more. Each speaker presented their perspective on the rapidly gentrifying suburb, demonstrating how urban space is made an remade through processes of contestation. This differentiation is particularly relevant when considering the basis for Sydney-centric walking tours. Mirvac’s self-guided tour focuses on the easy-to-see historical “high culture” of Marrickville, and encourages participants to “chat to locals” at the pub. It is a highly filtered approach that does not consider broader relations of class, race and gender that constitute Marrickville. A more intense exploration of the social fabric of the city – providing a glimpse of the hidden or unknown spaces – uncovers the layers of social, cultural, and economic history that produce urban space, and fosters a deeper engagement with questions of urban socio-spatial justice.Solnit argues that walking can allow us to encounter “new thoughts and possibilities.” To walk, she writes, is to take a “subversive detour… the scenic route through a half-abandoned landscape of ideas and experiences” (13). In this way, tactical activist walking tours aim to make visible what cannot be seen, in a way that considers the polysemic nature of place, and in doing so, they make visible the hidden relations of power that produce the contemporary city. In contrast, developer-led walking tours are singularly focussed, seeking to attract inflows of capital to neighbourhoods undergoing “renewal.” These tours encourage participants to adopt the position of urban voyeur, whilst activist-led walking tours encourage collaboration and participation in urban struggles to protect and preserve the contested spaces of the city. It is in this context that we sought to devise our own walking tour – Field Trip – to encourage active participation in issues of urban renewal.In organising this walking tour, however, we acknowledge our own entanglements within processes of gentrification. As designers, musicians, writers, academics, researchers, venue managers, artists, and activists, in organising Field Trip, we could easily be identified as “creatives”, implicated in Marrickville’s ongoing transformation. All of us have ongoing and deep-rooted connections to various Sydney subcultures – the same subcultures so routinely splashed across developer advertising material. This project was borne out of Frontyard – a community not-just-art space, and has been supported by the local Inner West Council. As such, Field Trip cannot be divorced from the highly contentious processes of redevelopment and gentrification that are always simmering in the background of discussions about Marrickville. We hope, however, that in this project we have started to highlight alternative voices in those redevelopment processes – and that this may contribute towards a “method of equality” for an ongoing democratisation of those processes (Davidson and Iveson).Field Trip: Urban Geographical Enquiry as Activism Given this context, Field Trip was designed as a public knowledge project that would connect local residents, workers, researchers, and decision-makers to share their experiences living and working in various parts of Sydney that are undergoing rapid change. The site of our project – Carrington Road, Marrickville in Sydney’s inner-west – has been earmarked for major redevelopment in coming years and is quickly becoming a flashpoint for the debates that permeate throughout the whole of Sydney: housing affordability, employment accessibility, gentrification and displacement. To date, public engagement and consultation regarding proposed development at Carrington Road has been limited. A major landholder in the area has engaged a consultancy firm to establish a community reference group (CRG) the help guide the project. The CRG arose after public outcry at an original $1.3 billion proposal to build 2,616 units in twenty towers of up to 105m in height (up to thirty-five storeys) in a predominantly low-rise residential suburb. Save Marrickville, a community group created in response to the proposal, has representatives on this reference group, and has endeavoured to make this process public. Ruming (181) has described these forms of consultation as “post-political,” stating thatin a universe of consensual decision-making among diverse interests, spaces for democratic contest and antagonistic politics are downplayed and technocratic policy development is deployed to support market and development outcomes.Given the notable deficit of spaces for democratic contest, Field Trip was devised as a way to reframe the debate outside of State- and developer-led consultation regimes that guide participants towards accepting the supposed inevitability of redevelopment. We invited a number of people affected by the proposed plans to speak during the walking tour at a location of their choosing, to discuss the work they do, the effect that redevelopment would have on their work, and their hopes and plans for the future. The walking tour was advertised publicly and the talks were recorded, edited and released as freely available podcasts. The proposed redevelopment of Carrington Road provided us with a unique opportunity to develop and operate our own walking tour. The linear street created an obvious “circuit” to the tour – up one side of the road, and down the other. We selected speakers based on pre-existing relationships, some formed during prior rounds of research (Gibson et al.). Speakers included a local Aboriginal elder, a representative from the Marrickville Historical Society, two workers (who also gave tours of their workplaces), the Lead Heritage Adviser at Sydney Water, who gave us a tour of the Carrington Road pumping station, and a representative from the Save Marrickville residents’ group. Whilst this provided a number of perspectives on the day, regrettably some groups were unrepresented, most notably the perspective of migrant groups who have a long-standing association with industrial precincts in Marrickville. It is hoped that further community input and collaboration in future iterations of Field Trip will address these issues of representation in community-led walking tours.A number of new understandings became apparent during the walking tour. For instance, the heritage-listed Carrington Road sewage pumping station, which is of “historic and aesthetic significance”, is unable to cope with the proposed level of residential development. According to Philip Bennett, Lead Heritage Adviser at Sydney Water, the best way to maintain this piece of heritage infrastructure is to keep it running. While this issue had been discussed in private meetings between Sydney Water and the developer, there is no formal mechanism to make this expert knowledge public or accessible. Similarly, through the Acknowledgement of Country for Field Trip, undertaken by Donna Ingram, Cultural Representative and a member of the Metropolitan Local Aboriginal Land Council, it became clear that the local Indigenous community had not been consulted in the development proposals for Carrington Road. This information, while not necessary secret, had also not been made public. Finally, the inclusion of knowledgeable local workers whose businesses are located on Carrington Road provided an insight into the “everyday.” They talked of community and collaboration, of site-specificity, the importance of clustering within their niche industries, and their fears for of displacement should redevelopment proceed.Via a community-led, participatory walking tour like Field Trip, threads of knowledge and new information are uncovered. These help create new spatial stories and readings of the landscape, broadening the scope of possibility for democratic participation in cities. Figure 3: Donna Ingram at Field Trip 2018.Tactical Walking, Tactical Media Stories connected to walking provide an opportunity for people to read the landscape differently (Mitchell). One of the goals of Field Trip was to begin a public knowledge exchange about Carrington Road so that spatial stories could be shared, and new readings of urban development could spread beyond the confines of the self-contained tour. Once shared, this knowledge becomes a story, and once remixed into existing stories and integrated into the way we understand the neighbourhood, a collective spatial practice is generated. “Every story is a travel story – a spatial practice”, says de Certeau in “Spatial Stories”. “In reality, they organise walks” (72). As well as taking a tactical approach to walking, we took a tactical approach to the mediation of the knowledge, by recording and broadcasting the voices on the walk and feeding information to a publicly accessible wiki. The term “tactical media” is an extension of de Certeau’s concept of tactics. David Garcia and Geert Lovink applied de Certeau’s concept of tactics to the field of media activism in their manifesto of tactical media, identifying a class of producers who amplify temporary reversals in the flow of power by exploiting the spaces, channels and platforms necessary for their practices. Tactical media has been used since the late nineties to help explain a range of open-source practices that appropriate technological tools for political purposes. While pointing out the many material distinctions between different types of tactical media projects within the arts, Rita Raley describes them as “forms of critical intervention, dissent and resistance” (6). The term has also been adopted by media activists engaged in a range of practices all over the world, including the Tactical Technology Collective. For Field Trip, tactical media is a way of creating representations that help navigate neighbourhoods as well as alternative political processes that shape them. In this sense, tactical representations do not “offer the omniscient point of view we associate with Cartesian cartographic practice” (Raley 2). Rather these representations are politically subjective systems of navigation that make visible hidden information and connect people to the decisions affecting their lives. Conclusion We have shown that the walking tour can be a tourist attraction, a catalyst to the transformation of urban space through gentrification, and an activist intervention into processes of urban renewal that exclude people and alternative ways of being in the city. This article presents practice-led research through the design of Field Trip. By walking collectively, we have focused on tactical ways of opening up participation in the future of neighbourhoods, and more broadly in designing the city. By sharing knowledge publicly, through this article and other means such as an online wiki, we advocate for a city that is open to multimodal readings, makes space for sharing, and is owned by those who live in it. References Armstrong, Helen. “Post-Urban/Suburban Landscapes: Design and Planning the Centre, Edge and In-Between.” After Sprawl: Post Suburban Sydney: E-Proceedings of Post-Suburban Sydney: The City in Transformation Conference, 22-23 November 2005, Riverside Theatres, Parramatta, Sydney. 2006.Bendiner-Viani, Gabrielle. “Walking, Emotion, and Dwelling.” Space and Culture 8.4 (2005): 459-71. Berry, Vanessa. Mirror Sydney. Sydney: Giramondo, 2017.Castles, Stephen, Jock Collins, Katherine Gibson, David Tait, and Caroline Alorsco. “The Global Milkbar and the Local Sweatshop: Ethnic Small Business and the Economic Restructuring of Sydney.” Centre for Multicultural Studies, University of Wollongong, Working Paper 2 (1991).Crosby, Alexandra, and Kirsten Seale. “Counting on Carrington Road: Street Numbers as Metonyms of the Urban.” Visual Communication 17.4 (2018): 1-18. Crosby, Alexandra. “Marrickville Maps: Tropical Imaginaries of Abundance.” Mapping Edges, 2018. 25 Jun. 2018 <http://www.mappingedges.org/news/marrickville-maps-tropical-imaginaries-abundance/>.Cook, Nicole. “Performing Housing Affordability: The Case of Sydney’s Green Bans.” Housing and Home Unbound: Intersections in Economics, Environment and Politics in Australia. Eds. Nicole Cook, Aidan Davidson, and Louise Crabtree. London: Routledge, 2016. 190-203.Davidson, Mark, and Kurt Iveson. “Recovering the Politics of the City: From the ‘Post-Political City’ to a ‘Method of Equality’ for Critical Urban Geography.” Progress in Human Geography 39.5 (2015): 543-59. De Certeau, Michel. “Spatial Stories.” What Is Architecture? Ed. Andrew Ballantyne. London: Routledge, 2002. 72-87.Dobson, Stephen. “Sustaining Place through Community Walking Initiatives.” Journal of Cultural Heritage Management and Sustainable Development 1.2 (2011): 109-21. Garrett, Bradley. “Picturing Urban Subterranea: Embodied Aesthetics of London’s Sewers.” Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space 48.10 (2016): 1948-66. Gibson, Chris, and Shane Homan. “Urban Redevelopment, Live Music, and Public Space: Cultural Performance and the Re-Making of Marrickville.” International Journal of Cultural Policy 10.1 (2004): 67-84. Gibson, Chris, Carl Grodach, Craig Lyons, Alexandra Crosby, and Chris Brennan-Horley. Made in Marrickville: Enterprise and Cluster Dynamics at the Creative Industries-Manufacturing Interface, Carrington Road Precinct. Report DP17010455-2017/2, Australian Research Council Discovery Project: Urban Cultural Policy and the Changing Dynamics of Cultural Production. QUT, University of Wollongong, and Monash University, 2017.Glazman, Evan. “‘Ghetto Tours’ Are the Latest Cringeworthy Gentrification Trend in NYC”. Konbini, n.d. 5 June 2017 <http://www.konbini.com/us/lifestyle/ghetto-tours-latest-cringeworthy-gentrification-trend-nyc/>. Graham, Sonia, and John Connell. “Nurturing Relationships: the Gardens of Greek and Vietnamese Migrants in Marrickville, Sydney.” Australian Geographer 37.3 (2006): 375-93. Gros, Frédéric. A Philosophy of Walking. London: Verso Books, 2014.Hall, Tom. “Footwork: Moving and Knowing in Local Space(s).” Qualitative Research 9.5 (2009): 571-85. Heddon, Dierdre, and Misha Myers. “Stories from the Walking Library.” Cultural Geographies 21.4 (2014): 1-17. Iveson, Kurt. “Building a City for ‘The People’: The Politics of Alliance-Building in the Sydney Green Ban Movement.” Antipode 46.4 (2014): 992-1013. Iveson, Kurt, Craig Lyons, Stephanie Clark, and Sara Weir. “The Informal Australian City.” Australian Geographer (2018): 1-17. Jones, Phil, and James Evans. “Rescue Geography: Place Making, Affect and Regeneration.” Urban Studies 49.11 (2011): 2315-30. Lees, Loretta, Tom Slater, and Elvin Wyly. Gentrification. New York: Routledge, 2008.Legacy, Crystal, Nicole Cook, Dallas Rogers, and Kristian Ruming. “Planning the Post‐Political City: Exploring Public Participation in the Contemporary Australian City.” Geographical Research 56.2 (2018): 176-80. Lovink, Geert, and David Garcia. “The ABC of Tactical Media.” Nettime, 1997. 3 Oct. 2018 <http://www.nettime.org/Lists-Archives/nettime-l-9705/msg00096.html>.Mitchell, Don. “New Axioms for Reading the Landscape: Paying Attention to Political Economy and Social Justice.” Political Economies of Landscape Change. Eds. James L. Wescoat Jr. and Douglas M. Johnson. Dordrecht: Springer, 2008. 29-50.Morris, Brian. “What We Talk about When We Talk about ‘Walking in the City.’” Cultural Studies 18.5 (2004): 675-97. Mudie, Ella. “Unbuilding the City: Writing Demolition.” M/C Journal 20.2 (2017).Phillips, Andrea. “Cultural Geographies in Practice: Walking and Looking.” Cultural Geographies 12.4 (2005): 507-13. Pink, Sarah. “An Urban Tour: The Sensory Sociality of Ethnographic Place-Making.”Ethnography 9.2 (2008): 175-96. Pink, Sarah, Phil Hubbard, Maggie O’Neill, and Alan Radley. “Walking across Disciplines: From Ethnography to Arts Practice.” Visual Studies 25.1 (2010): 1-7. Quiggin, John. “Blogs, Wikis and Creative Innovation.” International Journal of Cultural Studies 9.4 (2006): 481-96. Raley, Rita. Tactical Media. Vol. 28. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2009.Ruming, Kristian. “Post-Political Planning and Community Opposition: Asserting and Challenging Consensus in Planning Urban Regeneration in Newcastle, New South Wales.” Geographical Research 56.2 (2018): 181-95. Solnit, Rebecca. Wanderlust: A History of Walking. New York: Penguin Books, 2001.Steinbrink, Malte. “‘We Did the Slum!’ – Urban Poverty Tourism in Historical Perspective.” Tourism Geographies 14.2 (2012): 213-34. Tissot, Sylvie. Good Neighbours: Gentrifying Diversity in Boston’s South End. London: Verso, 2015.

Abstract:

Introduction Greater resilience is associated with the ability to self-organise, and with social learning as part of a process of adaptation and transformation (Goldstein 341). This article deals with responses to a crisis in a Norwegian community in the late 1880s, and with some of the many internal conflicts it caused. The crisis and the subsequent conflicts in this particular community, Volda, were caused by a number of processes, driven mostly by external forces and closely linked to the expansion of the capitalist mode of production in rural Norway. But the crisis also reflects a growing nationalism in Norway. In the late 1880s, all these causes seemed to come together in Volda, a small community consisting mostly of independent small farmers and of fishers. The article employs the concept of ‘resilience’ and the theory of resilience in order better to understand how individuals and the community reacted to crisis and conflict in Volda in late 1880, experiences which will cast light on the history of the late 1880s in Volda, and on individuals and communities elsewhere which have also experienced such crises. Theoretical Perspectives Some understandings of social resilience inspired by systems theory and ecology focus on a society’s ability to maintain existing structures. Reducing conflict to promote greater collaboration and resilience, however, may become a reactionary strategy, perpetuating inequalities (Arthur, Friend and Marschke). Instead, the understanding of resilience could be enriched by drawing on ecological perspectives that see conflict as an integral aspect of a diverse ecology in continuous development. In the same vein, Grove has argued that some approaches to anticipatory politics fashion subjects to withstand ‘shocks and responding to adversity through modern institutions such as human rights and the social contract, rather than mobilising against the sources of insecurity’. As an alternative, radical politics of resilience ought to explore political alternatives to the existing order of things. Methodology According to Hall and Lamont, understanding “how individuals, communities, and societies secured their well-being” in the face of the challenges imposed by neoliberalism is a “problem of understanding the bases for social resilience”. This article takes a similarly broad approach to understanding resilience, focusing on a small group of people within a relatively small community to understand how they attempted to secure their well-being in the face of the challenges posed by capitalism and growing nationalism. The main interest, however, is not resilience understood as something that exists or is being produced within this small group, but, rather, how this group produced social imaginaries of the past and the future in cooperation and conflict with other groups in the same community. The research proceeds to analyse the contributions mainly of six members of this small group. It draws on existing literature on the history of the community in the late 1800s and, in particular, biographies of Synnøve Riste (Øyehaug) and Rasmus Steinsvik (Gausemel). In addition, the research builds on original empirical research of approximately 500 articles written by the members of the group in the period from 1887 to 1895 and published in the newspapers Vestmannen, Fedraheimen and 17de Mai; and will try to re-tell a history of key events, referring to a selection of these articles. A Story about Being a Woman in Volda in the Late 1880s This history begins with a letter from Synnøve Riste, a young peasant woman and daughter of a local member of parliament, to Anders Hovden, a friend and theology student. In the letter, Synnøve Riste told her friend about something she just had experienced and had found disturbing (more details in Øyehaug). She first sets her story in the context of an evangelical awakening that was gaining momentum in the community. There was one preacher in particular who seemed to have become very popular among the young women. He had few problems when it comes to women, she wrote, ironically. Curious about the whole thing, Synnøve decided to attend a meeting to see for herself what was going on. The preacher noticed her among the group of young women. He turned his attention towards her and scolded her for her apparent lack of religious fervour. In the letter she explained the feeling of shame that came over her when the preacher singled her out for public criticism. But the feeling of shame soon gave way to anger, she wrote, before adding that the worst part of it was ‘not being able to speak back’; as a woman at a religious meeting she had to hold her tongue. Synnøve Riste was worried about the consequences of the religious awakening. She asked her friend to do something. Could he perhaps write a poem for the weekly newspaper the group had begun to publish only a few months earlier? Anders Hovden duly complied. The poem was published, anonymously, on Wednesday 17 March 1888. Previously, the poem says, women enjoyed the freedom to roam the mountains and valleys. Now, however, a dark mood had come over the young women. ‘Use your mind! Let the madness end! Throw off the blood sucker! And let the world see that you are a woman!’ The puritans appreciated neither the poem nor the newspaper. The newspaper was published by the same group of young men and women who had already organised a private language school for those who wanted to learn to read and write New Norwegian, a ‘new’ language based on the old dialects stemming from the time before Norway lost its independence and became a part of Denmark and then, after 1814, Sweden. At the language school the students read and discussed translations of Karl Marx and the anarchist Peter Kropotkin. The newspaper quickly grew radical. It reported on the riots following the hanging of the Haymarket Anarchists in Chicago in 1886. It advocated women’s suffrage, agitated against capitalism, argued that peasants and small farmers must learn solidarity from the industrial workers defended a young woman in Oslo who was convicted of killing her newborn baby and published articles from international socialist and anarchist newspapers and magazines. Social Causes for Individual Resilience and Collaborative Resilience Recent literature on developmental psychology link resilience to ‘the availability of close attachments or a supportive and disciplined environment’ (Hall and Lamont 13). Some psychologists have studied how individuals feel empowered or constrained by their environment. Synnøve Riste clearly felt constrained by developments in her social world, but was also resourceful enough to find ways to resist and engage in transformational social action on many levels. According to contemporary testimonies, Synnøve Riste must have been an extraordinary woman (Steinsvik "Synnøve Riste"). She was born Synnøve Aarflot, but later married Per Riste and took his family name. The Aarflot family was relatively well-off and locally influential, although the farms were quite small by European standards. Both her father and her uncle served as members of parliament for the (‘left’) Liberal Party. From a young age she took responsibility for her younger siblings and for the family farm, as her father spent much time in the capital. Her grandfather had been granted the privilege of printing books and newspapers, which meant that she grew up with easy access to current news and debates. She married a man of her own choosing; a man substantially older than herself, but with a reputation for liberal ideas on language, education and social issues. Psychological approaches to resilience consider the influence of cognitive ability, self-perception and emotional regulation, in addition to social networks and community support, as important sources of resilience (Lamont, Welburn and Fleming). Synnøve Riste’s friend and lover, Rasmus Steinsvik, later described her as ‘a mainspring’ of social activity. She did not only rely on family, social networks and community support to resist stigmatisation from the puritans, but she was herself a driving force behind social activities that produced new knowledge and generated communities of support for others. Lamont, Welburn and Fleming underline the importance for social resilience of cultural repertoires and the availability of ‘alternative ways of understanding social reality’ (Lamont, Welburn and Fleming). Many of the social activities Synnøve Riste instigated served as arenas for debate and collaborative activity to develop alternative understandings of the social reality of the community. In 1887, Synnøve Riste had relied on support from her extended family to found the newspaper Vestmannen, but as the group around the language school and newspaper gradually produced more radical alternative understandings of the social reality they came increasingly into conflict with less radical members of the Liberal Party. Her uncle owned the printing press where Vestmannen was printed. He was also a member of parliament seeking re-election. And he was certainly not amused when Rasmus Steinsvik, editor of Vestmannen, published an article reprimanding him for his lacklustre performance in general and his unprincipled voting in support of a budget allocating the Swedish king a substantial amount of money. Steinsvik advised the readers to vote instead for Per Riste, Synnøve Riste’s liberal husband and director of the language school. The uncle stopped printing the newspaper. Social Resilience in Volda The growing social conflicts in Volda might be taken to indicate a lack of resilience. This, however, would be a mistake. Social connectedness is an important source of social resilience (Barnes and Hall 226). Strong ties to family and friends matter, as does membership in associations. Dense networks of social connectedness are related to well-being and social resilience. Inversely, high levels of inequality seem to be linked to low levels of resilience. Participation in democratic processes has also been found to be an important source of resilience (Barnes and Hall 229). Volda was a small community with relatively low levels of inequality and local cultural traditions underlining the importance of cooperation and the obligations of everyone to participate in various forms of communal work. Similarly, even though a couple of families dominated local politics, there was no significant socioeconomic division between the average and the more prosperous farmers. Traditionally, women on the small, independent farms participated actively in most aspects of social life. Volda would thus score high on most indicators predicting social resilience. Reading the local newspapers confirms this impression of high levels of social resilience. In fact, this small community of only a few hundred families produced two competing newspapers at the time. Vestmannen dedicated ample space to issues related to education and schools, including adult education, reflecting the fact that Volda was emerging as a local educational centre; local youths attending schools outside the community regularly wrote articles in the newspaper to share the new knowledge they had attained with other members of the community. The topics were in large part related to farming, earth sciences, meteorology and fisheries. Vestmannen also reported on other local associations and activities. The local newspapers reported on numerous political meetings and public debates. The Liberal Party was traditionally the strongest political party in Volda and pushed for greater independence from Sweden, but was divided between moderates and radicals. The radicals joined workers and socialists in demanding universal suffrage, including, as we have seen, women’s right to vote. The left libertarians in Volda organised a ‘radical left’ faction of the Liberal Party and in the run-up to the elections in 1888 numerous rallies were arranged. In some parts of the municipality the youth set up independent and often quite radical youth organisations, while others established a ‘book discussion’. The language issue developed into a particularly powerful source for social resilience. All members of the community shared the experience of having to write and speak a foreign language when communicating with authorities or during higher education. It was a shared experience of discrimination that contributed to producing a common identity. Hing has shown that those who value their in-group ‘can draw on this positive identity to provide a sense of self-worth that offers resilience’. The struggle for recognition stimulated locals to arrange independent activities, and it was in fact through the burgeoning movement for a New Norwegian language that the local radicals in Volda first encountered radical literature that helped them reframe the problems and issues of their social world. In his biography of Ivar Mortensson Egnund, editor of the newspaper Fedraheimen and a lifelong collaborator of Rasmus Steinsvik, Klaus Langen has argued that Mortensson Egnund saw the ideal type of community imagined by the anarchist Leo Tolstoy in the small Norwegian communities of independent small farmers, a potential model for cooperation, participation and freedom. It was not an uncritical perspective, however. The left libertarians were constantly involved in clashes with what they saw as repressive forces within the communities. It is probably more correct to say that they believed that the potential existed, within these communities, for freedom to flourish. Most importantly, however, reading Fedraheimen, and particularly the journalist, editor and novelist Arne Garborg, infused this group of local radicals with anti-capitalist perspectives to be used to make sense of the processes of change that affected the community. One of Garborg’s biographers, claims that no Norwegian has ever been more fundamentally anti-capitalist than Garborg (Thesen). This anti-capitalism helped the radicals in Volda to understand the local conflicts and the evangelical awakening as symptoms of a deeper and more fundamental development driven by capitalism. A series of article in Vestmannen called for solidarity and unity between small farmers and the growing urban class of industrial workers. Science and Modernity The left libertarians put their hope in science and modernity to improve the lives of people. They believed that education was the key to move forward and get rid of the old and bad ways of doing things. The newspaper was reporting the latest advances in natural sciences and life sciences. It reported enthusiastically about the marvels of electricity, and speculated about a future in which Norway could exploit the waterfalls to generate it on a large scale. Vestmannen printed articles in defence of Darwinism (Egnund), new insights from astronomy (Steinsvik "Kva Den Nye Astronomien"), health sciences, agronomy, new methods of fishing and farming – and much more. This was a time when such matters mattered. Reports on new advances in meteorology in the newspaper appeared next to harrowing reports about the devastating effects of a storm that surprised local fishermen at sea where many men regularly paid with their lives. Hunger was still a constant threat in the harsh winter months, so new knowledge that could improve the harvest was most welcome. Leprosy and other diseases continued to be serious problems in this region of Norway. Health could not be taken lightly, and the left libertarians believed that science and knowledge was the only way forward. ‘Knowledge is a sweet fruit,’ Vestmannen wrote. Reporting on Darwinism and astronomy again pitted Vestmannen against the puritans. On several occasions the newspaper reported on confrontations between those who promoted science and those who defended a fundamentalist view of the Bible. In November 1888 the signature ‘-t’ published an article on a meeting that had taken place a few days earlier in a small village not far from Volda (Unknown). The article described how local teachers and other participants were scolded for holding liberal views on science and religion. Anyone who expressed the view that the Bible should not be interpreted literally risked being stigmatised and ostracised. It is tempting to label the group of left libertarians ‘positivists’ or ‘modernists’, but that would be unfair. Arne Garborg, the group’s most important source of inspiration, was indeed inspired by Émile Zola and the French naturalists. Garborg had argued that nothing less than the uncompromising search for truth was acceptable. Nevertheless, he did not believe in objectivity; Garborg and his followers agreed that it was not possible or even desirable to be anything else than subjective. Adaptation or Transformation? PM Giærder, a friend of Rasmus Steinsvik’s, built a new printing press with the help of local blacksmiths, so the newspaper could keep afloat for a few more months. Finally, however, in 1888, the editor and the printer took the printing press with them and moved to Tynset, another small community to the east. There they joined forces with another dwindling left libertarian publication, Fedraheimen. Generations later, more details emerged about the hurried exit from Volda. Synnøve Riste had become pregnant, but not by her husband Per. She was pregnant by Rasmus Steinsvik, the editor of Vestmannen and co-founder of the language school. And then, after giving birth to a baby daughter she fell ill and died. The former friends Per and Rasmus were now enemies and the group of left libertarians in Volda fell apart. It would be too easy to conclude that the left libertarians failed to transform the community and a closer look would reveal a more nuanced picture. Key members of the radical group went on to play important roles on the local and national political scene. Locally, the remaining members of the group formed new alliances with former opponents to continue the language struggle. The local church gradually began to sympathise with those who agitated for a new language based on the Norwegian dialects. The radical faction of the Liberal Party grew in importance as the conflict with Sweden over the hated union intensified. The anarchists Garborg and Steinsvik became successful editors of a radical national newspaper, 17de Mai, while two other members of the small group of radicals went on to become mayors of Volda. One was later elected member of parliament for the Liberal Party. Many of the more radical anarchist and communist ideas failed to make an impact on society. However, on issues such as women’s rights, voting and science, the left libertarians left a lasting impression on the community. It is fair to say that they contributed to transforming their society in many and lasting ways. Conclusion This study of crisis and conflict in Volda indicate that conflict can play an important role in social learning and collective creativity in resilient communities. There is a tendency, in parts of resilience literature, to view resilient communities as harmonious wholes without rifts or clashes of interests (see for instance Goldstein; Arthur, Friend and Marschke). Instead, conflicts should rather be understood as a natural aspect of any society adapting and transforming itself to respond to crisis. Future research on social resilience could benefit from an ecological understanding of nature that accepts polarisation and conflict as a natural part of ecology and which helps us to reach deeper understandings of the social world, also fostering learning, creativity and the production of alternative political solutions. This research has indicated the importance of social imaginaries of the past. Collective memories of ‘what everybody knows that everybody else knows’ about ‘what has worked in the past’ form the basis for producing ideas about how to create collective action (Swidler 338, 39). Historical institutions are pivotal in producing schemas which are default options for collective action. In Volda, the left libertarians imagined a potential for freedom in the past of the community; this formed the basis for producing an alternative social imaginary of the future of the community. The social imaginary was not, however, based only on local experience and collective memory of the past. Theories played an important role in the process of trying to understand the past and the present in order to imagine future alternatives. The conflicts themselves stimulated the radicals to search more widely and probe more deeply for alternative explanations to the problems they experienced. This search led them to new insights which were sometimes adopted by the local community and, in some cases, helped to transform social life in the long-run. References Arthur, Robert, Richard Friend, and Melissa Marschke. "Fostering Collaborative Resilience through Adaptive Comanagement: Reconciling Theory and Practice in the Management of Fisheries in the Mekong Region." Collaborative Resilience: Moving through Crisis to Opportunity. Ed. Bruce Evan Goldstein. Cambridge, Mass., and London: MIT Press, 2012. 255-282. Barnes, Lucy, and Peter A. Hall. "Neoliberalism and Social Resilience in the Developed Democracies." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 209-238. Egnund, Ivar Mortensson. "Motsetningar." Vestmannen 13.6 (1889): 3. Gausemel, Steffen. Rasmus Steinsvik. Oslo: Noregs boklag, 1937. Goldstein, Bruce Evan. "Collaborating for Transformative Resilience." Collaborative Resilience: Moving through Crisis to Opportunity. Ed. Bruce Evan Goldstein. Cambridge, Mass., and London: MIT Press, 2012. 339-358. Hall, Peter A., and Michèle Lamont. "Introduction." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Lamont, Michèle, Jessica S Welburn, and Crystal M Fleming. "Responses to Discrimination and Social Resilience under Neoliberalism: The United States Compared." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 129-57. Steinsvik, Rasmus. "Kva Den Nye Astronomien Kan Lære Oss." Vestmannen 8.2 (1889): 1. ———. "Synnøve Riste." Obituary. Vestmannen 9.11 (1889): 1. Swidler, Ann. "Cultural Sources of Institutional Resilience: Lessons from Chieftaincy in Rural Malawi." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013.

Abstract:

Hidden away at the ends of streets, behind suburban parks and community assets, there remain remnants of the coastal wallum heathlands that once stretched from Caloundra to Noosa, in Queensland, Australia. From late July to September, these areas explode with colour, a springtime wonderland of white wedding bush, delicate ground orchids, the pastels and brilliance of pink boronias, purple irises, and the diverse profusion of yellow bush peas. These gifts of nature are still relatively unknown and unappreciated, with most locals, and Australians at large, having little knowledge of the remarkable nature of the wallum, the nutrient-poor sandy soil that can be almost as acidic as battery acid, but which sustains a finely tuned ecosystem that, once cleared, cannot be regrown. These heathlands and woodlands, previously commonplace beyond the beach dunes of the coastal region, are now only found in a number of national parks and reserves, and suburban remnants.Image 1: The author wildflowering and making art (Photo: Judy Barrass)I too was one of those who had no idea of the joys of the wallum and heathland wildflowers, but it was the creative works of Kathleen McArthur and Judith Wright that helped initiate my education, my own wanderings, wildflowering, and love. Learning country has been a multi-faceted experience, extended and tested as walking becomes an embodied encounter, bodies and landscapes entwined (Lund), an imaginative reimagining, creative act and source of inspiration, a form of pilgrimage (Morrison), forging an intimate relationship (Somerville).Image 2: Women wildflowering next to Rainbow Beach (Photo: Susan Davis)Wandering—the experience shares some similar characteristics to walking, but may have less of a sense of direction and destination. It may become an experience that is relational, contemplative, connected to place. Wandering may be transitory but with impact that resonates across years. Such is the case of wandering for McArthur and Wright; the experience became deeply relational but also led to a destabilisation of values, where the walking body became “entangled in monumental historical and social structures” (Heddon and Turner). They called their walking and wandering “wildflowering”. Somerville said of the term: “Wildflowering was a word they created to describe their passion for Australian wildflower and their love of the places where they found them” (Somerville 2). However, wildflowering was also very much about the experience of wandering within nature, of the “art of seeing”, of learning and communing, but also of “doing”.Image 3: Kathleen McArthur and Judith Wright “wildflowering” north of Lake Currimundi. (Photo: Alex Jelinek, courtesy Alexandra Moreno)McArthur defined and described going wildflowering as meaningdifferent things to different people. There are those who, with magnifying glass before their eyes, looking every inch the scientist, count stamens, measure hairs, pigeon-hole all the definitive features neatly in order and scoff at common names. Others bring with them an artistic inclination, noting the colours and shapes and shadows in the intimate and in the general landscape. Then there are those precious few who find poetry in a Helmut Orchid “leaning its ear to the ground”; see “the trigger-flower striking the bee”; find secrets in Sun Orchids; see Irises as “lilac butterflies” and a fox in a Yellow Doubletail…There are as many different ways to approach the “art of seeing” as there are people who think and feel and one way is as worthy as any other to make of it an enjoyably sensuous experience… (McArthur, Australian Wildflowers 52-53)Wildflowering thus extends far beyond the scientific collector and cataloguer of nature; it is about walking and wandering within nature and interacting with it; it is a richly layered experience, an “art”, “a sensuous experience”, “an artistic inclination” where perception may be framed by the poetic.Their wildflowering drove McArthur and Wright to embark on monumental struggles. They became the voice for the voiceless lifeforms within the environment—they typed letters, organised meetings, lobbied politicians, and led community groups. In fact, they often had to leave behind the environments and places that brought them joy to use the tools of culture to protest and protect—to ensure we might be able to appreciate them today. Importantly, both their creativity and the activism were fuelled by the same wellspring: walking, wandering, and wildflowering.Women Wandering and WildfloweringWhen McArthur and Wright met in the early 1950s, they shared some similarities in terms of relatively privileged social backgrounds, their year of birth (1915), and a love of nature. They both had houses named after native plants (“Calanthe” for Wright’s house at Tambourine, “Midyim” for McArthur’s house at Caloundra), and were focussed on their creative endeavours—Wright with her poetry, McArthur with her wildflower painting and writing. Wright was by then well established as a highly regarded literary figure on the Australian scene. Her book of poetry The Moving Image (1946) had been well received, and later publications further consolidated her substance and presence on the national literary landscape. McArthur had been raised as the middle daughter of a prominent Queensland family; her father was Daniel Evans, of Evans Deakin Industries, and her mother “Kit” was a daughter of one of the pastoral Durack clan. Kathleen had married and given birth to three children, but by the 1950s was exploring new futures and identities, having divorced her husband and made a home for her family at Caloundra on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. She had time and space in her life to devote to her own pursuits and some financial means provided through her inheritance to finance such endeavours.Wright and McArthur met in 1951 after McArthur sent Wright a children’s book for Judith and Jack McKinney’s daughter Meredith. The book was by McArthur’s cousins, Mary Durack (of Kings in Grass Castles fame) and Elizabeth Durack. Wright subsequently invited McArthur to visit her at Tambourine and from that visit their friendship quickly blossomed. While both women were to become known as high-profile nature lovers and conservationists, Wright acknowledges that it was McArthur who helped “train her eye” and cultivated her appreciation of the wildflowers of south-east Queensland:There are times in one’s past which remain warm and vivid, and can be taken out and looked at, so to speak, with renewed pleasure. Such, for me, were my first meetings in the early 1950s with Kathleen McArthur, and our continuing friendship. They brought me joys of discovery, new knowledge, and shared appreciation. Those “wild-flowering days” at Tamborine Mountain, Caloundra, Noosa or Lake Cootharaba, when I was able to wander with her, helped train my own eye a little to her ways of seeing and her devotion to the flowers of the coast, the mountains, and the wallum plains and swamps. (Wright quoted in McArthur, Australian Wildflowers 7)It was through this wandering and wildflowering that their friendship was forged, their knowledge of the plants and landscape grew and their passion was ignited. These acts of wandering were ones where feelings and the senses were engaged and celebrated. McArthur was to document her experiences of these environments through her wildflower paintings, cards, prints, weekly articles in the local newspapers, and books featuring Queensland and Australian Wildflowers (McArthur, Queensland Wildflowers; Living; Bush; Australian Wildflowers). Wright wrote a range of poems featuring landscapes and flora from the coastal experiences and doubtless influenced by their wildflowering experiences. These included, for example, Judith Wright’s poems “Wildflower Plain”, “Wonga Vine”, “Nameless Flower”, and “Sandy Swamp” (Collected Works).Through these acts of wildflowering, walking, and wandering, McArthur and Wright were drawn into activism and became what I call “wild/flower” women: women who cared for country, who formed a deep connection and intimate relationship with nature, with the more-than-human world; women who saw themselves not separate from nature but part of the great cycles of life, growth, death, and renewal; women whose relationship to the country, to the wildflowers and other living things was expressed through drawing, painting, poetry, stories, and performances—but that love driving them also to actions—actions to nurture and protect those wildflowers, places, and living things. This intimate relationship with nature was such that it inspired them to become “wild”, at times branded difficult, prompted to speak out, and step up to assume high profile roles on the public stage—and all because of their love of the small, humble, and often unseen.Wandering into Activism A direct link between “wildflowering” and activism can be identified in key experiences from 1953. That was the year McArthur devoted to “wildflowering”, visiting locations across the Sunshine Coast and South-East Queensland, documenting all that was flowering at different times of the year (McArthur, Living 15). She kept a monthly journal and also engaged in extensive drawing and painting. She was joined by Wright and her family for some of these trips, including one that would become a “monumental” expedition. They explored the area around Noosa and happened to climb to the top of Mt Tinbeerwah. Unlike many of the other volcanic plugs of the Sunshine Coast that would not be an easy climb for a family with young children, Tinbeerwah is a small volcanic peak, close to the road that runs between Cooroy and Tewantin, and one that is a relatively easy walk. From the car park, the trail takes you over volcanic lava flows, a pathway appearing, disappearing, winding through native grasses, modest height trees and to the edge of a dramatic cliff (one now popular with abseilers and adventurers). The final stretch brings you out above the trees to stunning 360-degree views, other volcanic peaks, a string of lakes and waterways, the patchwork greens of farmlands, distant blue oceans, and an expanse of bushland curving north for miles. Both women wrote about the experience and its subsequent significance: When Meredith was four years old, Kathleen McArthur, who was a great wildflower enthusiast and had become a good friend, invited us to join her on a wildflower expedition to the sand-plains north of Noosa. There the Noosa River spread itself out into sand-bottomed lakes between which the river meandered so slowly that everywhere the sky was serenely mirrored in it, trees hung low over it, birds haunted them.Kathleen took her little car, we took our converted van, and drove up the narrow unsealed road beyond Noosa. Once through the dunes—where the low bush-cover was white with wedding-bush and yellow with guinea-flower vines—the plains began, with many and mingled colours and scents. It was spring, and it welcomed us joyfully. (Wright, Half 279-280)McArthur also wrote about this event and its importance, as they both realised that this was territory that was worth protecting for posterity: ‘it was obvious that this was great wildflower country in addition to having a fascinating system of sand mass with related river and lakes. It would make a unique national park’ (McArthur, Living 53). After this experience, Kathleen and Judith began initial inquiries to find out about how to progress ideas for forming a national park (McArthur, Living). Brady affirms that it was Kathleen who first “broached the idea of agitating to have the area around Cooloola declared a National Park” (Brady 182), and it was Judith who then made inquiries in Brisbane on their way back to Mount Tambourine:Judith took the idea to Romeo Lahey of the National Parks Association who told her it was not threatened in any way whereas there were important areas of rainforest that were, and his association gave priority to those. If he had but known, it was threatened. The minerals sands prospectors were about to arrive, if not already in there. (McArthur, Living 53)These initial investigations were put on hold as the pair pursued their “private lives” and raised their children (McArthur, Living), but reignited throughout the 1960s. In 1962, McArthur and Wright were to become founding members of the Wildlife Preservation Society of Queensland (along with David Fleay and Brian Clouston), and Cooloola was to become one of one of their major campaigns (McArthur, Living 32). This came to the fore when they discovered there were multiple sand mining leases pending across the Cooloola region. It was at McArthur’s suggestion that a national postcard campaign was launched in 1969, with their organisation sending over 100,000 postcards across Australia to then be sent back to Joh Bjelke Peterson, the notoriously pro-development, conservative Queensland Premier. This is acknowledged as Australia’s first postcard campaign and was reported in national newspapers; The Australian called the Caloundra branch of WPSQ one of the “most militant cells” in Australia (25 May 1970). This was likely because of the extent of the WPSQ communications across media channels and persistence in taking on high profile critics, including the mining companies.It was to be another five years of campaigning before the national park was declared in 1975 (then named Cooloola National Park, now part of the Great Sandy). Wright was to then leave Queensland to live on a property near Braidwood (on the Southern Tablelands of New South Wales) and in a different political climate. However, McArthur stayed in Caloundra, maintaining her deep commitment to place and country, keeping on walking and wandering, painting, and writing. She campaigned to protect beach dunes, lobbied to have Pumicestone Passage added to the national heritage register (McArthur, Pumicestone), and fought to prevent the creation of canal estates on the Pumicestone passage. Following the pattern of previous campaigns, she engaged in detailed research, drawing on expertise nationally and internationally, and writing many submissions, newspaper columns, and letters.McArthur also advocated for the plants, the places, and forms of knowing that she loved, calling for “clear thinking and deep feeling” that would enable people to see, value, and care as she did, notably saying:Because our flowers have never settled into our consciousness they are not seen. People can drive through square miles of colourful, massed display of bloom and simply not see it. It is only when the mind opens that the flowers bloom. (McArthur, Bush 2)Her belief was that once you walked the country and could “see”, become familiar with, and fall in love with the wildflowers and their environment, you could not then stand by and see what you love destroyed. Her conservation activities and activism arose and was fed through her wildflowering and the deep knowledge and connections that were formed.Wildflowering and Wanderings of My OwnSo, what we can learn from McArthur and Wright, from our wild/flower women, their wanderings, and wildflowering?Over the past few years, I have walked the wallum country that they loved, recited their poetry, shared their work with others, walked with women in the present accompanied by resonances of the past. I have shared these experiences with friends, artists, and nature lovers. While wandering with one group of women one day, we discovered that a patch of wallum behind Sunshine Beach was due to be cleared for an aged care development. It is full of casuarina food trees visited by the endangered Glossy Black co*ckatoos, but it is also full of old wallum banksias, a tree I have come to love, influenced in part by writing and art by McArthur, and my experiences of “wildflowering”.Banksia aemula—the wallum banksia—stands tall, often one of the tallest trees of our coastal heathlands and after which the wallum was named. A range of sources, including McArthur herself, identify the source of the tree’s name as an Aboriginal word:It is an Aboriginal word some say applied to all species of Banksia, and others say to Banksia aemula. The wallum, being up to the present practically useless for commercial purposes provides our best wildflower shows… (McArthur, Queensland Wildflowers 2)Gnarled, textured bark—soft grey and warm red browns, in parts almost fur—the flower heads, when young, feed the small birds and honeyeaters; the bees collect nectar to make honey. And the older heads—remnants on the ground left by glorious black co*ckatoos, whose beaks, the perfect pliers, crack pods open to recover the hidden seeds. In summer, as the new flowers burst open, every stage of the flower stem cycle is on show. The trees often stand together like familiar friends gossiping, providing shelter; they are protective, nurturing. Banksia aemula is a tree that, according to Thomas Petrie’s reminiscence of “early” Queensland, was significant to Aboriginal women, and might be “owned” by certain women:but certain men and women owned different fruit or flower-trees and shrubs. For instance, a man could own a bon-yi (Auaurcaria Bidwilli) tree, and a woman a minti (Banksia aemula)… (Petrie, Reminiscences 148)Banksia, wallum, women… the connection has existed for millennia. Women walking country, talking, observing, collecting, communing—and this tree was special to them as it has become for me. Who knows how old those trees are in that patch of forest and who may have been their custodians.Do I care about this? Yes, I do. How did I come to care? Through walking, through “wildflowering”, through stories, art, and experience. My connections have been forged by nature and culture, seeing McArthur’s art and reading Wright’s words, through walking the country with women, learning to know, and sharing a wildflowering culture. But knowing isn’t enough: wandering and wondering, has led to something more because now I care; now we must act. Along with some of the women I walked with, we have investigated council records; written to, and called, politicians and the developer; formed a Facebook group; met with various experts; and proposed alternatives. However, our efforts have not met with success as the history of the development application and approval was old and complex. Through wandering and “wildflowering”, we have had the opportunity to both lose ourselves and find ourselves, to escape, to learn, to discover. However, such acts are not necessarily aimless or lacking direction. As connections are forged, care and concern grows, and acts can shift from the humble and mundane, into the intentional and deliberate. The art of seeing and poetic perceptions may even transform into ecological action, with ramifications that can be both significant monumental. Such may be the power of “wildflowering”.ReferencesBrady, Veronica. South of My Days: A Biography of Judith Wright. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1998.Heddon, Deirdre and Cathy Turner. “Walking Women: Shifting the Tales and Scales of Mobility.” Contemporary Theatre Review 22.2 (2012): 224–236.Lund, Katrín. “Landscapes and Narratives: Compositions and the Walking Body.” Landscape Research 37.2 (2012): 225–237.McArthur, Kathleen. Queensland Wildflowers: A Selection. Brisbane: Jacaranda Press, 1959.———. The Bush in Bloom: A Wildflower Artist’s Year in Paintings and Words. Sydney: Kangaroo Press, 1982.———. Pumicestone Passage: A Living Waterway. Caloundra: Kathleen McArthur, 1978.———. Looking at Australian Wildflowers. Sydney: Kangaroo Press, 1986.———. Living on the Coast. Sydney: Kangaroo Press, 1989.Morrison, Susan Signe. “Walking as Memorial Ritual: Pilgrimage to the Past.” M/C Journal 21.4 (2018). 12 Aug. 2019 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/1437>.Petrie, Constance Campbell, and Tom Petrie. Tom Petrie’s Reminiscences of Early Queensland. 4th ed. Brisbane: University of Queensland Press, 1992. Somerville, Margaret. Wildflowering: The Life and Places of Kathleen McArthur. Brisbane: University of Queensland Press, 2004.Wright, Judith. Collected Poems: 1942 to 1985. Sydney: Harper Collins, 2016.———. Half a Lifetime. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 1999.