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This article conducts a theoretical exploration of how the materiality of ‘the digital’, and, more specifically, the immaterial nature of ‘the digital’, imposes on the securitisation of cyber. Starting from the observation that the implementation of new, draconian cybersecurity policy – illustrated with the Norwegian bulk interception controversy – is legitimised with reference to the immateriality of digital threats and digital transformations, I ask how we may we understand the material agency of immaterial matter in the context of cybersecurity. To address this problem, I turn to existing constructivist and new materialist accounts of the immateriality of cyber (in)security, and build on these to offer my own account of digital immateriality. In particular, I mobilise Yuk Hui’s reading of Jean-Francois Lyotard’s notion of im/materials to suggest that ‘the digital’ can be seen as a material force which concretises imperceptible relations by keeping the invisible invisible, and hence by abstracting and obscuring cyber threats and digital insecurities. In this way, ‘the digital’ engenders a new logic of cyber securitisation which I label ‘exceptionality without urgency’, where cybersecurity policy is aimed at countering fundamental, long-term, and rather vague transformations of politics and society rather than immediate, concrete threats.
The Great Depression is uniquely poised for literary-critical reevaluation, following the reorienting new lenses of Economic Criticism and the New History of Capitalism. Thinking (more) materially has permitted literary scholars in particular to better apprehend the textured record of modern lives: one where production and consumption infuse interior landscapes and unsettle divisive ontologies; where objects and goods occupy central space in the cultural imaginary and affective ecologies; where the human, natural, and built worlds overlay in unruly, disruptive ways; and where the tyranny of the human subject collapses into a broader network of interconnection that imperils the hoary axioms of civilization itself. This chapter offers a reading of Richard Wright’s posthumously published novel The Man Who Lived Underground (written just after the Depression) in the context of US Southern, African American, and Native American perspectives on the destabilizing and dehumanizing consequences of economic collapse. These contrapuntal readings unveil an American modernity marked by profound, multivalent loss: where money fails to orient, so too does race, and the uncanny (and always, finally, imaginary) freedom from both measures is by turns exhilarating and insupportable.
This article contends that philosophy is losing its standing because of its tendency to treat its own practice as an exercise in thinking about the world. When we treat ourselves and our colleagues as thinkers of the world, we isolate both our research and each other from the world. This is affecting the way philosophers and their work are perceived by others, and subsequently, if and how they are received as contributors to public discourse. One potential solution is to acknowledge that philosophy matters in the material sense: we must return to our bodies as (1) sites of meaning-making and discovery and (2) the condition that ensures philosophical practice remains a worldly activity. We make philosophy matter by making our research matter and each other matter.
How can we refuse education as a content machine stream? How can we love our more-than-human-selves out of the dark into education spaces that care? Instigated by a love letter to Earth, the collaborators in this ‘letter to the editors’ enter a correspon-dance with place about co-mentorship and sustenance. As a post-qualitative inquiry this piece resists mining the world for meaning, and instead, the authors (and Earth) creatively compose this conceptual paper with some image and text-rich conversational ramblings alongside poetics of feminist black scholars and poets. The letters meet places, spaces and bodies on the page – data analysed is data again. Four letters emerge informed by contemporary environmental philosophy, wilding pedagogies, and place-based education. They speak to researchers and teachers on unceded, unsurrendered, colonised lands, themselves an act of solidarity from the two settler∼authors. The pile of loving letters tell the tale of two people on Earth, as Earth, re-imagining pedagogical theory and practice in relation to Earth in an exhibition of living with pedagogy. This process of ‘wilding’ your own pedagogies regularly – as loving pedagogies – is offered as worth considering.
Please enjoy this compilation of letters addressed to you, Earth.
Different units of international politics, such as states or the church, cannot be present in their entirety during international interactions. Political rule needs to be represented for international actors to coordinate their activities. Representants (i.e. maps, GDP, buildings, and diplomatic and warfare practices) establish collective understandings about the nature of authority and its configuration. Whilst representants are not exact replica, they highlight and omit certain features from the units they stand in for. In these inclusions and exclusions lies representants' irreducible effect. This book studies how representants define the units of the international system and position them in relation to each other, thereby generating an international order. When existing representants change, the international order changes because the units are defined differently and stand in different relations to each other. Power is therefore defined differently. Spanning centuries of European history, Alena Drieschova traces the struggles between actors over these representations.
At present, in music education scholarship, there is a renewed interest and enthusiasm in materiality motivated by theories that gather under the title of ‘New Materialism’. Beyond the field of music education, doubts and reservations towards new materialism are being discussed, but these discussions are not yet entering music education debates. There are reservations concerning the lack of continuity with ‘old’ materialisms, some internal inconsistencies within the theories, problems that arise when new materialist concepts of agency and decentring are applied, and propositions that new materialism is not emancipatory, as claimed, but represents a further twist of Neoliberalism.
This chapter develops the theoretical framework. It defines international orders as configurations of authority. It then conceptualizes representants as effectively integrating material and ideational features, while being irreducible to either. It explains how representants relate to discourses, and material resources, and highlights the value-added of representants in relation to cognate concepts, like Bourdieu’s symbolic capital, status symbols, or Pitkin’s representation. Representants do not come alone, but are embedded into semeiotic webs. On this basis the chapter develops four mechanisms through which representants constitute international orders: they characterize the units of international politics, they legitimize them, they position them in power relations towards each other, and they serve as tools for governing. Representants are constitutive of international orders, while also being the building blocks political agents use to change orders. The chapter develops two mechanisms of changes in representants. One focuses on struggles between actors over getting specific representants socially recognized. The other is an unintentional change in representants themselves. It outlines why some artifacts, practices, and language become socially recognised representants. The last section develops a semeiotics of materialism to study representants and capture the constitutive effects of material reality on a par with those of language.
The chapter starts with empirical teasers. The reliance on maps during the Congress of Vienna, Sanskrit poetics in premodern South Asia, the coronation in the Middle Ages, and the European Parliament’s staged plenary votes in the absence of formal competencies all find a mention. The chapter then defines representants as those practices, artefacts, and language that stand in for the units of the international system in international interactions. In comparison to existing theories of changes of international orders, a focus on representants carries some advantages. Approaches studying material capabilities omit how highly centralized orders can exist even if capabilities are widely distributed. Constructivists could do more to identify the transmission mechanisms through which abstract ideas affect practical politics. How exactly ideas are materially instantiated leaves its mark on historical events. Theoretically, the book’s aim is to anchor the macro-processes of international order’s stability and change in everyday and extraordinary embodied encounters. The focus is on scaling up (from new materialist and much of practice scholarship) and scaling down (from traditional scholarship on transformations of international order) at the same time. The chapter briefly summarizes the theory of change of international orders, and it provides an outline of the monograph.
When Roberto Dañino, former World Bank General Counsel, arrived in the institution, he found a department perceived to be at the verge of ‘marginalization’ – a dire state he diagnosed and soon attributed to the rigid ‘culture’ of legal practice. In tracing Dañino’s efforts to ‘make the department relevant again’, we get a glimpse of the situated, material, embodied institutional life of international law: the changes Dañino instilled were not manifested in formal legal sources but in the introduction of new cultural codes, professional prototypes (the ‘how to’ lawyer) and technical routines of risk management. In the domain of international institutional law – often oriented towards abstraction, comparison, or aspiration – such prosaic legal practices tend to be underplayed. This chapter signals two productive entry points for a turn to practice: (i) a focus on the shared and contingent criteria of competence – the ‘social grammar’ – that mark professional postures and performances, and (ii) a heightened attention for the practices of relationality, translation, and materiality through which law is composed – the string of ‘people and things’ that it assembles. This methodological orientation to professional scripts and material routines also offers a perspective on ‘critique’ that differs from familiar structuralist modes of analysis and intervention.
Islam burst forth from Arabia in the seventh century and spread with astonishing speed and force into the Middle East, Asia and northern Africa and the Mediterranean. While its success as a dominant culture has often been attributed to military strength, astute political organization, and religious factors, this Element focuses on the environmental conditions from which early Islamic societies sprang. In the belt of arid land that stretches from Iran to the Maghreb (Spain and Morocco)-i.e. the territories of early Islam-the adaptation of natural water systems, landforms and plant varieties was required to make the land habitable and productive.
This essay uses concepts drawn from the field of New Materialism, which posits that material objects possess forms of agency that shape human culture rather than just being passively acted upon, to move the history of the book beyond common assumptions that “the book” is a physically coherent and obviously identifiable entity. Looking closely at how the transportation infrastructure of the nineteenth-century print market determined and complicated American understandings of what a book was, it uses the legal and aesthetic debates triggered by evolving distinctions between bound and unbound texts to explore the historically malleable nature of “the book.” Concentrating particularly on the US postal system, which constantly struggled to define and regulate the printed matter passing through it during the nineteenth century as publishers sought to access cheaper circulation rates by presenting book-like material in periodical formats, this study of quasi-books ranges from Washington Irving’s Sketch Book (1819–1820) through the “mammoth weeklies” of the 1840s to the “Library” series of the 1870s.
The materialist turn in contemporary literary theory – comprising of multiple discourses such as new materialism, posthumanism, ecocriticism, speculative realism, affect theory, and others – has been deeply influential in the field of nineteenth-century American literature. However, one key tension within these materialist theories is the question of its politics: how does a turn to materialism, which privileges the actual physical matter of bodies and things over the ideological and linguistic categories of ideas, advance any political or ethical imperatives? Is a world of matter a world without human meaning? This chapter outlines both optimistic and pessimistic perspectives on this question in recent nineteenth-century American literary study. It then seeks to redraw the political impasse between them as one of scale. To that end, I examine two mid-century texts – the anonymously authored “The Ultra-Moral Reformer” (1842) and Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Sphinx” (1846) – as depictions of the challenges (and opportunities) of scalar distortion. These texts suggest that the political and ethical impasse within materialism can be described within materialist terms itself, and that doing so offers a way of understanding the value judgments inherent in materialist methodological commitments as scale dependent.
This chapter bridges environmental humanities and Black humanities by examining a figure largely, if curiously, excluded from the “ecocritical” canon: Charles Chesnutt, the first African American writer of commercially successful fiction. Reading literary environmentalism beyond the lenses of Romanticism or transcendentalism, Forbes finds in Chesnutt’s late nineteenth-century conjure tales a richly imagined Black environmental heritage that connected race and nature. Chesnutt’s short fiction featuring metamorphoses of humans into plants and animals represents a key node in an alternate, and nonlinear, Black environmentalist timeline. In contrast to environmentalisms that pit nature’s interests against humans’, the insights we see at flashpoints across this tradition, and crucially in Chesnutt’s conjure tales, belie narratives of human/nature separation that underpin most “white” environmentalisms. Moreover, his marshaling of racialized nonhuman agencies also helps us address persistent difficulties associated with new materialist theorizing. Fusing human/plant/animal agencies to frameworks of care and nurturance, characters in Chesnutt’s conjure tales weaponize “waste” against enslavement’s inhuman valuation systems.
The New Nineteenth-Century American Literary Studies takes stock of critical developments over the past twenty years, offering a fresh examination of key interpretative issues in this field. In eclectic fashion, it presents a wide range of new approaches in such areas as print and material culture, Black studies, Latinx studies, disability studies, gender and sexuality studies, postsecular studies, and Indigenous studies. This volume also maps out new directions for the future of the field. The evidence and examples discussed by the contributors are compelling, grounded in case studies of key literary texts, both familiar and understudied, that help to bring critical debate into focus and model fresh interpretive perspectives. Essays provide new readings and framings of such figures as Herman Melville, Harriet Wilson, Charles Chesnutt, Edgar Allan Poe, Washington Irving, and Zitkála-Šá.
In this article, we discuss our investigation of children’s imaginative sense-making and its materiality in climate change education. Drawing on a new materialist approach, our research contributes to knowledge about the material significance in children’s sense-making related to climate change. During a project called Riddle of the Spirit in a Finnish primary school, we invited children to explore the concepts of global warming and carbon dioxide through narrative, playful and multimodal activities. Inspired by postqualitative methods, our relational analysis, based on video materials, maps and examines two episodes of children’s small group inquiry. Our findings unfold the material–discursive intra-actions, through which a prop turned into a whale’s head, the Titanic film appeared, and water and carbon dioxide became important to children’s bodies. With these specific events, the study illustrates how various materials conjoined and came to matter in the children’s sense-making of the concepts.
This paper explores the potential for extending relational ontologies to include a specific focus on human-plant relations. We theorise the emergence of a vegetal ontology, as a novel way of working and remaking theories around human-plant relations that can be applied to the field of environmental education. A vegetal ontological approach, as applied in the environmental education research project that informs this article, abandons hierarchical comparisons of plants, which are often historically positioned as “lesser species,” mere “objects” and “resources” even. We start our paper with a modest review of key theoretical approaches informing past and recent environmental education studies on child-plant relations. We then return to the discussion started within the introduction to the paper on how we have theorised a vegetal ontology as a mode of a relational ontology focussing particularly on human-plant relations and drawing on posthumanist, new materialist and Indigenous approaches. To conclude the paper, we then put this newly named vegetal ontology to work. We apply it to a recent study on childhood-plant encounters where researchers engaged with young children and their families in a botanical garden setting and a group of environmental education elders reflected on the significance of plant relations in their childhoods.
More-than-human refusal, as an expression of agency, plays an active role in constructing boundaries. In this article, I address what kind of environmental education is made possible by the productive constraints of respecting more-than-human boundaries and refusal. This is intertwined with how humans can practice being attentive to the intra-actions of more-than-humans when they are not physically present, are only speculated to be present or are present through artifacts. I rhizomatically analyse my relationship with a leafcutter bee (Megachile spp.) nest as a situated example of practicing a relational ethic of care. Through queering the boundary between myself and the leafcutter bee, nature becomes not something that I (human) experience, but as something we (bougainvillea-leafcutter bee-nest-human assemblage) produce through our human-and-more-than-human relationality. Rather than seeing limited proximity as prohibitive, environmental education can use this productive constraint to know-with more-than-human others in a way that disrupts the nature/culture binary — to blur the boundaries between humans and more-than-humans without violating the agency asserted by more-than-humans.
Although biblical scholars are increasingly turning their attention to the question of God’s body, few clarify how precisely this “body” complicates the long-held claim that God is immaterial. The present article addresses this oversight by attending to the ways in which biblical accounts of God’s body intersect with wider tradents of thought on materiality and immateriality, including, above all, the recent cross-disciplinary “turn” known as new materialism. The article begins by discussing what biblical scholars mean when they say “God’s body” and how biblical theophanies in particular complicate the belief that God is immaterial. It then discusses new materialism and how key emphases in this scholarly shift similarly complicate the belief in God’s immateriality. Third and finally, the article returns to biblical theophanies by reading these accounts through a new materialist lens, focusing in particular on God’s manifestations in material, nonhuman forms. In the end, I suggest not only that biblical theophanies problematize traditional ways of conceiving God within the history of biblical interpretation but also that new materialism can better enable us to see how these accounts portray the relationship between God and embodied materialities.
Sexgender has become politicized by neo-conservative and populist movements in Europe and elsewhere. This article explores how the sexgender binary is foundational to the social and material construction of the non-heterosexual legal subject and unveils binary hierarchies embedded therein. Furthermore, it develops a new materialist methodology called BinaryTech, which exposes the binary formulas of inequality and difference in the Court’s jurisprudence. This new materialist approach, based on Karen Barad’s agential realism, is used to critically examine how differences are produced as stable features of subjects and objects. The human of the Convention being heterosexual is thereby the result, constructed on material-discursive differentiation of non-heterosexuals. The article concludes by describing how new materialist interventions and Nordic feminist perspectives on law can offer valuable insights within the emerging material turn.
The introduction takes the reader into the history of oil in the Ecuadorean Amazon in the twentieth century. Zooming out from the testimony of a former oil worker, a historical overview sheds light on the dynamics of oil extraction in the region by national and international companies. This history is analyzed from the interdisciplinary perspective of the Environmental Humanities, combining archival and oral sources, sociological and anthropological concepts, and a mixed-methods approach. From this vantage point, the changes in the rainforest brought by the oil industry can be narrated as a fundamental metamorphosis of the landscape, its ecology, and its inhabitants. Drawing from Amazonian and European notions of metamorphosis, four dimensions of this process are particularly relevant for the historical analysis: conceptual, material, toxic, and social. The metamorphosis as metaphor offers a perspective on historical change in the Amazon as a process driven by the conflictive interaction between the rainforest ecosystem and the narrative and material manifestations of the oil industry.