Hostname: page-component-68c7f8b79f-7mrzp Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2025-12-31T15:18:05.274Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Planetary repertoires? ‘Research is a zoo’: An invitation to an epistemic ‘party’

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  29 December 2025

Kellie Gonçalves*
Affiliation:
Department of English, University of Bern, Bern, Switzerland
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Abstract

In this article, I hone in on complex, assemblaic relations of human, non-human, more-than-human, animal, spatial, digital, environmental, and political economic questions questioning the role that language and other modes of semiosis have in the powerful production of planetary matters and anthropocenic landscapes. New theoretical and methodological directions are paved in the field of linguistic and semiotic landscape studies that underscore entangled space, methodological attunement, and the political economy as planetary actor. In this issue, we encounter ‘epistemic rupture’ in real time among numerous sensescapes on land, sea, and in the sky. This means it is time for scholars to acquire planetary repertoires and different ways of semiotic de-coding and meaning-making as it pertains to the Anthropocene, where human language is devalued. Post-humanism and assemblage theorization are put forward as promising frameworks while methods from off and online spaces may be the new norm in LL studies. (Anthropocene landscapes, planetary repertoires, perceptual coding, political economy, multispecies communication, epistemic rupture, linguistic and semiotic landscapes, assemblage theory, post-humanism)

Information

Type
Discussion
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BY
This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution and reproduction, provided the original article is properly cited.
Copyright
© The Author(s), 2025. Published by Cambridge University Press.

‘And those who were seen dancing were thought

to be insane by those who could not hear the music.’

–Friedrich Nietzsche

Discussion piece

I open this discussion with a picture (see Figure 1) I took last year in Nazaré, Portugal, known as the surfing capital of the world infamous for its thirty-meter-high waves. This is the place where surf legends are born while others tragically succumb to the wrestling waters of this apparent geological wonder. Upon reaching the ‘terrestrial seascape’ (Moriarty Reference Moriarty2025), one is encountered by a 6.3-meter-high anthropomorphic sculpture entitled Veado (meaning ‘deer’ in Portuguese) made out of marble and steel. While Veado represents a twelfth-century legend of an animal-saint encounter within the local topographic landscape, its mere presence and sturdy structure epitomizes the contemporary and multidisciplinary terrain of the Anthropocene and the semiotic resources that are mobilized in the production of nature and the more-than-human environment given its high regime of visibility to just about any passer-by. Such a structure, regardless of one’s tastes, invites us to critically consider Anthropocenic landscapesFootnote 1 and question how they are ideologically represented, materially produced, geographically emplaced, symbolically situated, semiotically indexed, digitally mediated, and globally circulated within both physical and digital spaces that are driven by the political economy addressing several themes in this special issue.

Figure 1. Veado sculpture in Praia do Norte, Nazaré, Portugal.

The world is in flux and no doubt it always has been, but our access to both information and misinformation has experienced a major shift in the ‘age of digital transnational interaction and AI interventions’ (Erdocia, Migge, & Schneider Reference Erdocia, Migge and Schneider2024:3; see also Harari Reference Harari2024). What we consume literally and ideologically will affect how we feel and even dictate the discourses we take part in or rebuff. Whether we are in the age of the Anthropocene (Ellis, Magliocca, Stevens, & Fuller Reference Ellis, Magliocca, Stevens and Fuller2018), Capitalocene (Moore Reference Moore2017; Nae Reference Nae2023), Westernocene (San Román & Molinero-Gerbeau Reference San Román and Molinero-Gerbeau2023) or any other, is perhaps not our call as sociolinguists, but continuing to expand our scope of study is not only worth considering, but also inevitable. However we label such processes and periods, they are no doubt ‘academic constructs’ (Snajdr & Trinch Reference Snajdr and Trinch2025), in an era where societal divisions seem heightened, and censorship is on the rise (Roberts Reference Roberts2020; Desmet Reference Desmet2022). For these reasons, we must remain open to debates and welcome perspectives that differ from our own. For what it’s worth, I hope readers of this piece will find it fruitful.

Nearly twenty years ago within the context of language and globalization Coupland (Reference Coupland2003) asserted that sociolinguistics ‘is already late getting to the party’ while Eckert (Reference Eckert2003), maintained that ‘research is a zoo’Footnote 2 equipped with ‘elephants in the room’. Eckert was referring to large presences that scholars collectively ignore in order to carry out their research. Could similar sentiments be said about the study of sociolinguistics and the Anthropocene in 2025? For some time now, several language scholars have questioned the assumptions about the literal nature of language and how it has been conceptualized (Makoni & Pennycook Reference Makoni, Pennycook, Makoni and Pennycook2006). More recently and perhaps somewhat paradoxically, language scholars have de-centered language as their main unit of analysis turning their empirical and analytical gazes to pressing issues concerned with post-humanist theorization and ontological biases that privilege human exceptionalism (Pennycook Reference Pennycook2018; Lamb & Higgins Reference Lamb, Higgins, Fina and Georgakopoulou2020; Wee Reference Wee2021; Schneider & Heyd Reference Schneider and Heyd2024). Some of these projects center on human-animal communication (Kulick Reference Kulick2017; Cornips Reference Cornips2022; Lamb Reference Lamb2024; Lind Reference Lind2024) while questions of embodiment (Bucholtz & Hall Reference Bucholtz, Hall and Coupland2016), materiality and place (Scollon & Scollon Reference Scollon2003) aren’t really all that new. Most recently, and unsurprisingly, digitized technologies and AI (Purschke Reference Purschke2017; Schneider Reference Schneider2022; Kelly-Holmes Reference Kelly-Holmes2024; Voss Reference Voss2024; Maly Reference Maly2025; Erdocia, Schneider, & Migge Reference Erdocia, Schneider and Migge2025) have taken center stage.

In this collection of articles, we hone in on complex, assemblaic relations of human, non-human, more-than-human, animal, spatial, digital, environmental, and political economic questions trying to tease out the relevant role that language and other modes of semiosis have in the powerful production of planetary matters.

In preparing for this discussion, I read Animals by Don LePan (Reference LePan2009). The novel takes us on a disturbing but equally fascinating journey exploring the blurred boundaries between humans and non-humans, raising ethical and moral questions about the value of life, which are always intertwined with sociocultural issues and trends as well as political economic agendas and questions of power. LePan’s (Reference LePan2009) work made me question my own as well as other’s banal choices and its effects on the world, not only in terms of daily food consumption (which I’ll come back to later) but of our everyday social practices as privileged academics (i.e. engaged in highly mobile, digital, and often remote work). Let’s be honest, how many of us would be willing to forgo an invited talk in a foreign country due to carbon emissions? Can we really afford to miss the chance to top up our CVs in an effort to better manage ecosystems given the pressures of our performance-based profession? In 2003, the elephant in the room Eckert was referring to was the ideological construct of authenticity ‘that is central to the practice of both speakers and analysts of language’ (2003:392). Within the context of the Anthropocene, one elephant may be the ideological construct of the Anthropocene while other elephants in the room may be all of us unless you are of the opinion that natural causes are to blame for planetary crisis rather than human intervention (see Figure 2). Such sentiments inevitably reconstruct the problematic dichotomy of ‘nature’ versus ‘culture’ (Smith Reference Smith2025). For Veland & Lynch (Reference Veland and Amanda2016:1) ‘increasingly fortified stances on the ‘right’ definition of the Anthropocene epoch follow traditions of linear and authoritarian historical accounts and prevent discovering epistemes of human-environment interactions that are open for coexistence’.

Figure 2. A picture of the Mittellegi hut originally built in 1924 equipped for climbers and mountaineers, which sits at 3,355 meters (11,007 feet) above sea level on the Mittellegigrat ridge, a salient feature of the Eiger mountain in the Junfrau Region in Switzerland.

Regardless of one’s personal beliefs, as academics, our job is to remain open, critical, and reflexive about sociolinguistic practices (Gonçalves & Schluter Reference Gonçalves and Schluter2024; Gonçalves & Lanza Reference Gonçalves, Lanza, Røyneland and Wei2024), and discourses knowing that we are not outside of them, but complicit in their production and dissemination resonating with Cameron’s (Reference Cameron2020) well-known assertion that no researcher is outside of research. In laying the groundwork for new theoretical and methodological frameworks through which sociolinguistics may address planetary crisis, three distinct directions for the study of space and semiosis are proposed, all of which are taken up in the articles in this issue. They include: (i) entangled and expanded space, (ii) attunement as method and praxis, and (iii) political economy as planetary actor.

Indeed, all of these directions are relevant for the analysis of Anthropocenic landscapes as we move forward in our transdisciplinary endeavors or epistemic assemblages (Pennycook Reference Pennycook2018). And while I do not necessarily think these directions are new within applied or sociolinguistics, they certainly are for the field of linguistic landscape studies. In this issue we encounter ‘epistemic rupture’ (Bachelard Reference Bachelard1938/1986) within numerous sensescapes (Medway Reference Medway, Kavaratzis, Warnaby and Ashworth2015) on land, sea, and in the sky that are being explored in terms of signage (or lack thereof) and the complex networked relations in various spaces that demand our attention with regard to what I call planetary repertoires—semiotic de-coding and meaning making as it pertains to the Anthropocene. ‘I may be wrong’ (Lindeblad, Natthiko, Bankeler, Modiiri, & Bromme Reference Lindeblad, Bankeler, Modiiri and Bromme2023), but from my reading, it appears that interpretive codes including perceptual codes and ideological codes among multispecies gain currency and are valued above certain modes and linguistic codes among humans only. This is perhaps somewhat of a paradox given that all articles (to the best of my knowledge) are written by human researchers. This also raises questions about ‘ethical loyalities’ and their conflicts (Fair, Scheer, Keil, Kiik, & Rust Reference Fair, Scheer, Keil, Kiik and Rust2023). But since ‘money talks’, I’ll begin by addressing the political economy as planetary actor.

Economy as planetary actor

The political economy of language is one which has continued to be relevant to linguistic anthropologists and critical sociolinguists since the seminal work of Irvine (Reference Irvine1989). And while the political economy of signs is not new (Baudrillard Reference Baudrillard1976/1993), it gained momentum within the field of linguistic landscape (LL) with Jaworski & Thurlow’s introduction of Semiotic landscape (2010:10) forcing us to shift our analytical gaze beyond language only to include ‘any public space with visible inscription made through deliberate human intervention and meaning making’. While public space is rarely public (Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves2019) and never neutral (Harvey Reference Harvey2005; Gonçalves & Milani Reference Gonçalves and Tommaso2022), the emphasis here was still on human agency. Underlining semiotic practices was an important reminder that language (regardless of one’s philosophical orientation) is just one part of a larger system of communication. In 2016, Gal reminds us that semiotic practices are valued differently depending on the semiotic ideologies we ascribe to them.

As we know, a plethora of economies exist and therefore also different forms of capital, some of which include financial, human, symbolic, network, economic, cultural, spatial, residential, intellectual, attention, and natural. And where there is capital, there are also currencies (Agha Reference Agha2017), which vary in value and societal significance depending on the master narratives of our time, one of which currently appears to be polycrisis with the planet as protagonist (Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves, Bianco and Lundberg2026). Footnote 3

Nature and wildlife in the forms of untouched baren landscapes (Smith Reference Smith2025; Moriarty Reference Moriarty2025), exotic creatures (Lamb Reference Lamb2025; Sharma Reference Sharma2025) or organic food (Kosatica Reference Kosatica2025) gain currency and become iconic and indexical of both spatial and visual semiotic systems and examples of nonlinguistic enregisterment (Telep Reference Telep2021; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves2024), that are highly valued within visual, attention, tourist, and extractive economies (Poole Reference Poole1997; Goldhaber Reference Goldhaber2006; Heller, Jaworski, & Thurlow Reference Heller, Jaworski and Thurlow2014; Sultana Reference Sultana2023). Within the field of sociolinguistics, Kelly-Holmes (Reference Kelly-Holmes2005) has long claimed that the role of visuality in advertising is becoming increasingly central to contemporary consumer culture. This resonates with Ledin & Machin’s (Reference Ledin and Machin2018:1) more recent assertion that society is becoming ‘more visual’ and dominated by images that are in line with predicaments about our ocular-centric society that is epistemologically biased by vision.Footnote 4 While different eyes may have different sociocultural perspectives (Andreotti & de Souza Reference Andreotti and Lynn Mario2008; Vold Lexander, Gonçalves, & De Korne Reference Vold Lexander, Gonçalves and De Korne2020), not all eyes see, read, or are visually literate, thus not all distinctions are visible.

The powerful pictures and plans discussed by Snajdr & Trinch of the Atlantic Yards project underscored the sense of vision. A large professional sports arena and high-rise residential towers does not visually sit well in the center of leafy low-rise Brooklyn due to its emplacement, high regime of visibility, and where social class divisions become symbolically and literally materialized. For Baudrillard (Reference Baudrillard1981/2019) the transcendence of economic privilege into a semiotic privilege ‘represents the ultimate stage of domination’. Spectacles of semiotic privilege emerge in many of the articles in this issue. We see this in Kosatica’s study where pristine images of cows grazing in grasslands become enregistered emblems for visual and eventually human bodily consumption where the powerful rhetorics of ‘natural’ and ‘nutrious’ seem to celebrate both planet and cows via greenwashing and financial gain. In Sharma’s study, we see how elephant polo is driven by capitalist logics where wildlife becomes apropriated for elite leisure (and touristic) consumption by reinforcing colonial legacies through the commodification of animal labor framed by sports and conservation. Such economic erasure is also found in Moriarty’s work of the Wild Atlantic Way (WAW) designed to attract tourists to more remote, rural, and ‘authentic’ parts of the country, where spatio-temporal relations of connectedness are underscored rather than economically driven interests. While this could fit in well with the ethos of the Anthropocene that fundamentally undermines orthodox economic paradigms, it also means rejecting economic and political success by long-standing metrics such as GDP (Thomas, Williams, & Zalasiewicz Reference Thomas, Williams and Zalasiewicz2020).

Within such contexts, the political economy as planetary actor mushrooms into hegemonic discourses of sustainability (McManus Reference McManus2007), which become mobilized in different industries and markets on a global scale. The motto ‘sustainability sells’ (with a nod to the mighty rhetorical functions of both anthropomorphism and personification) emerges within complex, contradictory, and clashing economies of capitalism, ecology, digitization, affect, and care within several articles in this issue.

How sustainability becomes a commodified linguistic resource and semiotically framed varies (Archer & Björkvall Reference Archer, Björkvall, Sherris and Adami2019; Kosatica & Smith Reference Smith2025) but it is no doubt prevailing, highly valued, and according to German architect Sascha Arnold, sustainability is also ‘sexy’ (Gruner & Jahr 2025:25). Everything from transportation (Figure 3), clothing (Figure 4), homes (Figure 5), workplaces (Figure 6), bags (Figure 7), banking (Figure 8), and paper (Figure 9) currently multimodally and thus semiotically bombard us with implicit messages of planetary crisis while simultaneously serving as signs of ecological, industrial, professional, societal, and individual responsibility, where minute changes have the potential to benefit people and the planet, the human and the more-than-human. But where does this leave room for structural implementations? While the post-colonial era has seen the rise of ‘human development’ as a global sociopolitical goal (Sen Reference Sen1999), we must not forget that the dominant form of development is still first and foremost, capitalist (Srinivasan & Kasturirangan Reference Srinivasan and Kasturirangan2016) ‘infused with the priorities of neoliberalism’ (Machin & Liu Reference Machin and Lui2023:4).

Figure 3. Sustainability billboard by the Jungfraubahn, a local private railway company in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, which transports over one million guests a year to the ‘Top of Europe’.

Figure 4. A bilingual Sanskrit-English sign, NISHTA Sustainable Livin’ clothing store in Interlaken, Switzerland.

Figure 5. The August 2025 special issue of the magazine Schöner Wohnen (Europe’s largest living magazine) entitled Natürlich Nachhaltig, wir lieben Holz ‘Naturally sustainable, we love wood’.

Figure 6. ‘Be productive, be sustainable’ at a plant-based workplace in Austria.

Figure 7. A recycled bag that used to be a plastic bottle.

Figure 8. ‘Sustainable investment’ bank advertisement at Zurich airport.

Figure 9. Gras Papier Nachhaltig ‘Sustainable grass paper’.

We see ‘sustainable development’ unravel in Snajdr & Trinch’s (Reference Snajdr and Trinch2025) article where concerns over redevelopment, whether utopian or dystopian, are grounded in a neoliberal framework that favors individual achievement, land use, and economic capital. Such human-centric behavior has led the authors to coin the term mytopic to index such individualistic perspectives on the future of place, private property, and private profit. Moriarty’s (Reference Moriarty2025) study alludes to a form of blue sustainable tourism, where the seascape becomes a commodity to be leveraged in the pursuit of economic gains at local, regional, and national levels within an Irish tourism context. Here, we have the example of the WAW being branded as a quiet, peaceful, and remote place plush with the aim of luring urbanites to explore and exploit natural landscapes (on foot and by car) for the sake of both symbolic and network capital while simultaneously gaining economic profit. An example of ‘structural unsustainability’, such ‘commodified spectacles’ become an example of Disneyfication and a modern-day Irish bucket list with a passport to prove it resonating with what Urry (Reference Urry2002:129) calls a ‘vicious hermeneutic circle’.

Similarly, Smith (Reference Smith2025) introduces us to one Anthropocenic landscape in a small village in Oman that is remote and abandoned due to reasons of modernization, industrialization, and domestic migration based on the government’s provisions of services (i.e. schools, hospitals, etc.) in larger towns. While attending to the ‘semiotics of nonexistence’ (Karlander Reference Karlander2019) may be relevant for our field, this could come at a considerable cultural, social, and ecological cost resulting in what’s been referred to as ‘wilderness gentrification’, or ‘greentrification’ (Smith, Philipps, & Kinton Reference Smith, Philipps, Kinton, Lees and Phillips2018).Footnote 5 Indeed, tourist consumption resonates with broader economies of value and attention and the discourses of nature tourism and conservation (Moriarty Reference Moriarty2025; Sharma Reference Sharma2025; Lamb Reference Lamb2025; Smith Reference Smith2025), simultaneously index processes of branding. For Goldman & Papson (Reference Goldman and Papson2006:328), ‘it sometimes seems as if there is hardly any market arena, not even a niche, that has been left uncolonized by branding processes [where] branding represents one institutionalized method of practically materializing the political economy of signs’.

We see this in Kosatica’s (Reference Kosatica2025) study of mediatized ‘beefy landscapes’ that index tensions between lifestyle and sustainability in the semiotic and discursive construction of social class, green political orientations, and individual and collective identities (Cooper, Green, Burningham, Evans, & Jackson Reference Cooper, Green, Burningham, Evans and Jackson2012). Through her analysis, Kosatica shows how so-called meaty routines are deeply entrenched in environmental escapism pushing lifestyle trends to ‘eat right’ contributing to the reproduction of social hierarchies and distinctions of taste (Bourdieu Reference Bourdieu and Nice1984). Kosatica’s study also reveals the literal and symbolic dirty work that goes into the production and maintence of organic farming capturing the politics of agricultural labour where invisible migrant workers are exploited and faceless.

While organic beef might taste better, it is not an option for the average citizen given its higher costs. Organic anything is unlikely to become standard unless we begin to critically think about replacing mainstream economics (where infinite growth is hegemonic) with ecological economics, where ‘green growth’ reigns (see also Sharma Reference Sharma2025). Yet how can the political economic and planetary clashes be reconciled given contemporary ‘Trumponomics’ (Moore & Laffer Reference Moore and Laffer2018; Scanlon Reference Scanlon2025), which has ramifications for the global economy? History has shown us that most superpowers will go to extraordinary measures to maintain their geopolitical and economic power on the world stage regardless of the costs (human, animal, environmental) (Chomsky Reference Chomsky2017; Chomsky & Robinson Reference Chomsky and Nathan2024). And history has versions, none of which are universal (de Souza & Duboc Reference De Souza and Duboc2021).

Indeed, the discourses and images surrounding beefy landscapes counteract the recent message on a parasitic sign (Kallen Reference Kallen, Jaworski and Thurlow2010) and ‘transcultural text’ (Purschke Reference Purschke2017, Reference Purschke, Amos, Blackwood and Tufi2024; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves, Lee and Rüdiger2025) found outside my workplace (Figure 10).

Figure 10. ‘STOP EATING ANIMALS’ at the corner entrance of the Faculty of Humanities at the University of Bern, Switzerland, 2024.Footnote 6

‘I may be wrong’ but bottom-up ecological (and vegan) landscapes in the form of stickers are on the horizon (Reershemius Reference Reershemius2019; Gonçalves, Erba, Semadeni, & Demircan Reference Gonçalves, Erba, Semadeni, Demircan, Gorter and Cenoz2024; Gonçalves, Erba, & Semadeni Reference Gonçalves, Erba and Semadeni2025; Reershemius & Ziegler Reference Reershemius and Ziegler2025). In this example, sign posters seem well aware that meat production is a leading driver of environmental change on a global scale. This anthropocenic sign echoes Sharma’s call for considering an interspecies ethics where hierarchies between humans and animals dissolve, points that were also raised in the articles by Lamb (Reference Lamb2025) and Moriarty (Reference Moriarty2025).

Attunement as method and praxis

In this collection of articles, we learn about researchers’ firsthand experiences from their deep immersion and commitment to their particular units of analyses through ‘embodied ethnography’ (Jeffrey, Barbour, & Thorpe Reference Jeffrey, Barbour and Thorpe2021; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves, Lee and Rüdiger2025), multi-species ethnography, and cyberethnography in their very own performances of place (Goffman Reference Goffman1959; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves2020a). Whether it be swimming with jellyfish off the Irish coast (Moriarty Reference Moriarty2025), engaging in ‘wild camping’ without birds in Oman (Smith Reference Smith2025) attending elephant polo championships and elephant beauty pageants in Nepal (Sharma Reference Sharma2025) or doing ‘digital intimacy’ with monk seals in Hawaii (Lamb Reference Lamb2025), a methodological shift is currently underway, where all of our senses are required (Moriarty Reference Moriarty2025). This aligns with Pennycook’s earlier (2022:572) predictions of engaging in multisensory assemblage since ‘we do not engage with the world one sense at a time [and where] synaesthesic sensibilities may be the norm (Howes & Classen Reference Howes and Classen2014)’.

Linguistic landscape studies have already extended its scope well beyond multimodal visual analysis of material signage to include a wider range of semiotic forms such as soundscapes, smellscapes, and skinscapes (see articles in Shohamy & Ben-Rafael Reference Shohamy and Ben-Rafael2015). Such sensescapes could align with Kusters’ (Reference Kusters2017) notion of sensory ecology and the importance of touch as sites of engagement (Sharma Reference Sharma2025).Footnote 7 In any interactional encounter, orchestration matters (Hua, Otsuji, & Pennycook Reference Hua, Otsuji and Pennycook2017; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves2020b) and attunement is key (Lamb Reference Lamb2025). Within the context of the Anthropocene, relational attunement is called for (Lamb Reference Lamb2025; Smith Reference Smith2025) that encompasses ‘more-than-human voices, temporalities, and material processes’ (Brigstocke & Noorani Reference Brigstocke and Noorani2016:2). This is not an easy task given that temporal and spatial scales where the scales of geological significance and the scales of social significance are not the same (Thomas et al. Reference Thomas, Williams and Zalasiewicz2020). The planet appears to be multidialectal equipped with its own repertoires based on Indigenous philosophies and knowledges (Selin Reference Selin2003; Dei, Karanja, & Erger Reference Dei, Karanja, Erger, Dei, Karanja and Erger2022). The question becomes: do we place value on actually listening (Staddon, Byg, Chapman, Fish, Hague, & Horgan Reference Staddon, Byg, Chapman, Fish, Hague and Horgan2023), learning and trying to decipher its many codes and cultural meanings (Carbaugh Reference Carbaugh, Cantrill and Oravec1996)? For attunement to even happen we must be open and physically present in order to actually make sense of what we sense in our local surroundings (see also Deumert & Storch Reference Deumert, Storch, Deumert, Storch and Shepherd2020). This demands our undivided attention on how planetary repertoires and semiotic ideologies are produced and interpreted and where silence (Smith Reference Smith2025) and extinction (Lamb Reference Lamb2025) become emblematic signifiers worthy of semiotic investigation or in the case of blight (Snajdr & Trinch Reference Snajdr and Trinch2025) convenient discursive forms that rhetorically and economically justify geographic displacement and human erasure. Complete focus necessitates absorption verging on monomaniacal tendencies, including that of the self (see Figure 11).

Figure 11. A photo taken by the author in Vienna airport in July 2025.

On the one hand, attuning to local surroundings could require some digital detoxing (Radtke, Apel, Schenkel, Keller, & von Lindern Reference Radtke, Apel, Schenkel and Keller2022), a daring move in our current post-digital societies (Tagg & Lyons Reference Tagg and Lyons2022), where the boundaries of off and online spaces are invariably blurred. We see this in Smith’s analysis of the Grand Canyon of Arabia, where all space becomes ripe for sociolinguistic and semiotic study. On the other hand, contemporary society is ‘consumed by digital invasion and addictive trivial diversion’ (Sharma Reference Sharma2024:34), where more intrusive options are necessary to become digitally intimate (Lamb Reference Lamb2025) through wildlife surveillance and tracking via crittercams. Lamb (Reference Lamb2025) shows the inherent paradoxes of how digital infrastructures of surveillance are pulling humans and nonhumans into competing multispecies futures, with some oriented toward experimental possibilities for flourishing cohabitation, while others are geared toward intensified control and value extraction. For Lamb, digital intimacy foregrounds and undoes traditional hierarchies of care in human-wildlife relations in how it troubles the relation between caring and knowing in ways not previously possible. This differs somewhat to Sharma (Reference Sharma2025) who argues for an ethical stance and approach, which centers on multispecies justice, where a critical examination of commodified encounters exemplifies and reproduces hierarchies of control, care, and value that are deemed ‘superficial’ and ‘socially and ecologically harmful’. In a similar vein, Moriarty (Reference Moriarty2025) maintains that a failure to think with the non-human in seascapes adds to its vulnerability. In other words, everything matters, and everything is agentic including matter itself (Barad Reference Barad2007) aligning with post-human theorization. The challenge remains in finding the right balance between what matters (literally, ideologically, and ethically) and the significant (or insignificant role) that language and other forms of semiosis play in our analyses of anthropocenic landscapes and planetary matters.

Entangled and expanded space

Theory drives our analyses in entangled and expanded spaces. In this collection of papers, a unifying theoretical concept emerged, namely, that of assemblage (Deleuze & Guattari Reference Deleuze and Guattari1988). Assemblage theory has a long intellectual trajectory in the social sciences equipped with a plethora of growing modifiers (linguistic, semiotic, sociomaterial, text, temporary, rhizomatic, surveillant, critical, sociotechnical, multisensory, epistemic, privatized). For language scholars, assemblage is known in both applied linguistics (Pennycook Reference Pennycook2018, Reference Pennycook2024) and sociolinguistics (Pietikäinen Reference Pietikäinen2021, Reference Pietikäinen2024) as ‘an alternative way to look at the world that starts with multiplicity and focuses on relations, connections and processes’ (Pietikäinen Reference Pietikäinen2021:235), rejecting binaries and dualisms. Drawing on concepts of entanglements or assemblage ‘helps to understand the multiple ways in which animals (and other non-human entities) are enmeshed in linguistic, social, cultural, material, and political relations’ (Cornips, Deumert, & Pennycook Reference Pennycook2024:170). This is complicated (much like nexus analysis, network theory, and complexity theory) and most likely messy, but necessary, possible, and even magnetic (Lamb Reference Lamb2025) as the articles in this issue have shown, especially as we account for different types of communicative fields and spaces encompassing the physical, ideological, digital, urban, and remote while simultaneously reckoning with diverse kinds of multispecies and Indigenous encounters (and lack thereof) on land, sea, and in the sky.

From the work of Lefebvre (Reference Lefebvre and Nicholson-Smith1991), space is always realized in the ways we represent it—for example, how we write about it, talk about it, photograph it, advertise it, and design it. The ways in which places and spaces were represented differed in the articles, but all of them approached different sites of engagement located at the ‘phygital’ (Lyons Reference Lyons2019) interface of the ‘offline-online nexus’ (Androutsopolous Reference Androutsopoulos, Blackwood, Tufi and Amos2024; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves2024; Gonçalves & Lanza Reference Gonçalves, Lanza, Blackwood, Tufi and Amos2024). This is most likely to become the ‘new’ methodological norm in LL studies if it isn’t already raising questions of (trans)disciplinary boundaries that appear to be crumbling, which broaches another question: are these crumbs organically feeding into entangled epistemic assemblages or are they being forcefully fed?

Online platforms and social media sites are spaces of ‘public pedagogy’ (Giroux Reference Giroux2004) where we go to read, see, learn, post, and perform engaging in discursive, intertextual, and semiotic practices that get ‘recycled’ through processes of remediation, re-semiotization, and in some cases, also resignification, while simultaneously serving as communal spaces for protest, resistance, and dialogic exchange (Moriarty Reference Moriarty2025; Snajdr & Trinch Reference Snajdr and Trinch2025; Lamb Reference Lamb2025; Sharma Reference Sharma2025; Smith Reference Smith2025; & Kosatica Reference Kosatica2025). Online spaces are also transactional and are where digital and attention economies meet (Blackwood Reference Blackwood2018; Smith Reference Smith2019), and a virtual space where attention transforms into a scarce type of capital given its abstract quality and measurability (Terranova Reference Terranova2012:2). For Kelly-Holmes (Reference Kelly-Holmes2022), our growing ‘technologized reality demands that we build algorithmic reflexivity into both our teaching and research’. And while semiosis comes in many forms, we cannot underestimate written language since according to Thomas et al. (Reference Thomas, Williams and Zalasiewicz2020) it ‘allows us to transfer complex knowledge across time and space to coordinate conquest, administer vast territories and exploit resources and people’. Recent scholarship extends the idea of writing to ‘all forms of symbolic signification, or sign-making’ (Jaworski & Li Wei Reference Jaworski and Wei2021:4). Nowhere is this more prevalent than in the field of linguistic and semiotic landscapes.

As scholars of language, we are well versed in the effective functions of storytelling (Labov Reference Labov1972; De Fina & Georgakopoulou Reference De Fina and Georgakopoulou2012) and Foucault’s (Reference Foucault and Smith1972) notion of discursive regimes and the power dynamics involved in the creation and legitimatization of knowledge and ‘truth’ within a specific place and historical time. Truth is therefore relative, fiction is fabricated, and not all stories get told (Snajdr &Trinch 2025; Kosatica Reference Kosatica2025). For the forces in our field breaking new ground, continued ‘academic migration’ (Thorpe Reference Thorpe2011; Gonçalves Reference Gonçalves2020a) is a must as is the inclusion of epistemic perspectives from different cultures of the world regardless of how we geographically label them (Southern, Northern, Eastern, Western; and their non’s) since these too are socially constructed cartographic designations and ‘abyssal lines’ (Santos Reference Santos2007) that get reproduced in our discussions and materialized in our publications. As scholars researching anthropocenic landscapes, we need to carefully and consciously situate ourselves as knowledge-producing subjects, read widely, remain critical and reflexive of our own patterns of consumption in whatever algorithms and configurations they may be. These include ideological consumption via media and their biases, bodily consumption of all kinds of matter (organic and/or junk), and so on, knowing that whatever we feed on influences our opinions, semiotic practices, and mobile performances (even those framed in the name of conservation research). Such practices affect planetary matters in our contemporary post-everything world while we navigate the future terrain of anthropocenic landscapes and the conflicting ideological values we attach to them including our ethical loyalities (for those who still have them).

For years, many of us with access to technology have had to confirm being human by reading distorted texts and typing them into small boxes as proof that we aren’t robots. Today, we are living in an age where ChatGPT is regarded as an ‘intellectual partner’ (Lieberman Reference Lieberman2025) and money can be made with air (Pietikäinen Reference Pietikäinen2024). Our sense of sight allows us to detect, unquestionably devour, and query semiotic regimes locally as well as in different sociocultural, political, and environmental contexts. Moreover, our irises are multifunctional in that they can now serve as a piece of artwork (Figure 12) and simultaneously operate as a biometric identification method used for reasons of access and (border) control.

Figure 12. A postcard of Iris Art.

Currently, colonialism and coloniality (as well as their counterparts) come in many forms (Makoni Reference Makoni2019) including appropriation (Rambukwella & Zavala Reference Rambukwella and Zavala2025) and governmentality manifests itself in colors. Our society is filled with people who prefer the comfort of belonging to a flock or a herd (so-called sheeple) that operate in an echo chamber rather than thinking for themselves. We’re social beings and yearn for membership (Milroy Reference Milroy1987) so this isn’t that surprising. Nevertheless, I encourage you to take an ontological, ethical, epistemic, and semiotic deep dive into multisensory discovery and address the elephants in the room and the black sheep that often get sidelined.

For scholars of language, human language (in whatever form) has always mattered, but it’s never the only or most important semiotic code that matters. Context matters and this too is nothing new. For scholars in the field of linguistic landscapes, we’re experiencing ‘epistemic rupture’ (Bachelard Reference Bachelard1938/1986) in real time. Therefore, it’s time to start thinking outside the box (of human language), which is challenging when we’ve been in the box for so long.Footnote 8 The sticker in Figure 13 with its affirmation to nature sums it up quite nicely.

Figure 13. Think outside, no box required sticker.Footnote 9

For linguistic landscape scholars it might be time to consider leaving city streets to explore different and perhaps less traveled paths (Banda, Jimaima, & Mokwena Reference Banda, Jimaima, Mokwena, Sherris and Adami2019) regardless of who may follow. It’s time to acquire planetary repertoires by starting to fine-tune our senses that underscore interpretive codes among multispecies located in different entangled spaces. As we know, signs come in many forms and so do semiotic codes, which we need to learn, de-code, and make sense of in the world in which we live in order to understand axiological functions and their connotative and sociocultural values. On the one hand, it appears that natural landscapes have the power to change human language (Magnason Reference Magnason2025). On the other hand, we are also witnessing how semiotic codes in the form of actual human language are losing their value, but more work is required.Footnote 10 Drawing on theories of post-humanism and assemblage-thinking where everything matters, and complex, networked connectivity is crucial, may be a good starting point while not losing sight of the many ‘elephants in the room’ including replicability. Whether it be in the form of seascapes, beefscapes, magnetic landscapes, eco-semiotic landscapes, mytopic landscapes, and certainly beyond, ‘I may be wrong’, but the articles in this special issue have shown that ‘research is a zoo’ and the epistemic after party has already begun.

Acknowledgements

I’d like to express my thanks to Federico Erba and Tabea Geissmann for their assistance with references and article formatting. My thanks to Sean Smith for the invitation to contribute to this special issue in the form of a discussion piece. Thank you to all of the contributors and their work, which has allowed me to read extensively and learn more about anthropocenic landscapes. I’d also like to thank Sinfree Makoni and various scholars from the African Studies Global Virtual Forum Group for an enriching and very helpful discussion in August 2025. And finally, my sincere gratitude to Britta Schneider, Robert Blackwood, and Sean Smith for their insight and useful feedback on an earlier draft of this article. All shortcomings are my own.

Footnotes

1. The Anthropocene is a contested term and proposed as a label to mark the start of a new epoch due to humans’ impact on the planet. For an overview of its application in sociolinguistics, see Smith (Reference Smith2025).

2. Here I draw on the notion of zoo as a metaphor where different species are located. I am aware of the sensitivities around (human) zoos in postcolonial studies as well as zoos as sites of exoticization and objectification of animals.

3. The World Economic Forum Global Risks Report of 2020 displays a web of interconnections among current and future risks including social, economic, technological, geopolitical and environmental.

4. Osborne’s (Reference Osborne2000) work on travel, photography, and visual culture has discussed this development within the context of early modern art, which finds connection between ocularcentrism and the evolution of capitalism.

5. While there are landscape-specific gentrification models equipped with diverse land-management practices from different governing bodies and gentrifying agents, all space including empty, rural, or wilderness is subject to commodification for reasons of economic profit (see Darling Reference Darling2005).

6. I’d like to thank Yvette Bürki for bringing this sticker to my attention.

7. See chapters in Selin (Reference Selin2003) on different cultural and worldviews of nature and the environment.

8. See Bachelard (Reference Bachelard1938/1986) on epistemic obstacle, epistemic rupture, and epistemic act.

9. See Mignolo’s (Reference Mignolo2000) discussion on ‘barbarian theorizing’ or ‘border thinking’.

10. Within the context of Brazilian applied linguistics, the work of de Souza & Duboc (Reference De Souza and Duboc2021) provides a critical examination of ‘The falling sky: Words of a Yanomami shaman’. See also (Deumert Reference Deumert2023) on sonic criticality.

References

Agha, Asif (2017). Money talk and conduct from cowries to bitcoin. Signs and Society 5:293355.10.1086/693775CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Andreotti, Vanessa, & Lynn Mario, T. M. de Souza (2008). Learning to read the word through other eyes. Derby: Global Education.Google Scholar
Androutsopoulos, Jannis (2024). The offline-online nexus. In Blackwood, Robert, Tufi, Stefanie, & Amos, Will (eds.), The Bloomsbury handbook of linguistic landscapes, 441–55. London: Bloomsbury Academic.Google Scholar
Archer, Arlene, & Björkvall, Anders (2019). Material sign-making in diverse contexts: ‘Upcycled’ artefacts as refracting global/local discourses. In Sherris, Aris & Adami, Elisabetta (eds.), Making signs, translanguaging ethnographies, exploring urban, rural and educational spaces, 5573. Bristol: Multilingual Matters.Google Scholar
Bachelard, Gaston (1938/1986). The formation of the scientific mind: A contribution to a psychoanalysis of objective knowledge. Boston, MA: Beacon Press.Google Scholar
Banda, Felix, Jimaima, Hambaba, & Mokwena, Lorato (2019). Semiotic remediation of Chinese signage in the linguistic landscapes of two rural areas of Zambia. In Sherris, Aris & Adami, Elisabetta (eds.), Making signs, translanguaging ethnographies, exploring urban, rural and educational spaces, 7490. Bristol: Multilingual Matters.Google Scholar
Barad, Karen (2007). Meeting the universe halfway: Quantum physics and the entanglement of matter and meaning. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.10.2307/j.ctv12101zqCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Baudrillard, Jean (1976/1993). Symbolic exchange and death theory, culture and society. London: SAGE.10.4135/9781526401496CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Baudrillard, Jean (1981/2019). For a critique of the political economy of the sign. Trans. by Charles Levin. London: Verso.Google Scholar
Blackwood, Robert (2018). Language, images, and Paris Orly airport on Instagram: Multilingual approaches to identity and self-representation on social media. International Journal of Multilingualism 16(1):118.Google Scholar
Bourdieu, Pierre (1984). Distinction: A social critique of the judgement of taste. Trans. by Nice, Richard. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.Google Scholar
Brigstocke, Julian, & Noorani, Tehseen (2016). Posthuman attunements: Aesthetics, authority and the arts of creative listening. GeoHumanities 2(1):17.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bucholtz, Mary, & Hall, Kira (2016). Embodied sociolinguistics. In Coupland, Nikolas (ed.), Sociolinguistics: Theoretical debates, 173200. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Cameron, Deborah (2020). Language and gender: Mainstreaming and the persistence of patriarchy. International Journal of the Sociology of Language 263:2530.10.1515/ijsl-2020-2078CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Carbaugh, Donal (1996). Naturalizing communication and culture. In Cantrill, James G. & Oravec, Christine L. (eds.), The symbolic earth: Discourse and our creation of the environment, 3857. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky.Google Scholar
Chomsky, Noam (2017). Who rules the world? London: Picador.Google Scholar
Chomsky, Noam, & Nathan, J. Robinson (2024). The myth of American idealism: How U.S. foreign policy endangers the world. New York: Penguin Press.Google Scholar
Cooper, Geoff; Green, Nicola; Burningham, Kate; Evans, David; & Jackson, Tim (2012). Unravelling the threads: Discourses of sustainability and consumption in an online forum. Environmental Communication 6(1):101–18.10.1080/17524032.2011.642080CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Coupland, Nikolas (2003). Sociolinguistics and globalisation. Journal of Sociolinguistics 7(4):465–72.10.1111/j.1467-9841.2003.00237.xCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Cornips, Leonie (2022). The animal turn in postcolonial (socio)linguistics: The interspecies greetings of the dairy cow. Journal of Postcolonial Linguistics 6:210–32.Google Scholar
Cornips, Leonie, Deumert, Ana, & Pennycook, Alastair (2024). Posthumanism and pragmatics. In Vandenbroucke, Mieke, Declercq, Jana, Brisard, Frank, & D’hondt, Sigurd (eds.), Handbook of pragmatics, 167–83. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.Google Scholar
Darling, Eliza (2005). The city in the country: Wilderness gentrification and the rent gap. Environment and Planning A. 37:1015–32.10.1068/a37158CrossRefGoogle Scholar
De Fina, Anna, & Georgakopoulou, Alexandra (2012). Analyzing narrative: Discourse and sociolinguistic perspectives. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.Google Scholar
De Souza, Lynn Mario Trinadade Menezes & Duboc, Ana Paula Martinez (2021). De-universalizing the decolonial: Between parentheses and falling skies. Gragoatá, Niterói 26(56):876911.10.22409/gragoata.v26i56.51599CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Dei, George J. Sefa, Karanja, Wambui, & Erger, Grace (2022). Land as indigenous epistemology. In Dei, George J. Sefa, Karanja, Wambui, & Erger, Grace (eds.), Elders’ cultural knowledges and the question of Black/African indigeneity in education, 113–26. Cham: Springer.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Deleuze, Gilles, & Guattari, Félix (1988). A thousand plateaus: Capitalism and schizophrenia. London: Athlone Press.Google Scholar
Desmet, Mattias (2022). The psychology of totalitarianism. London: Chealsea Green Publishing.Google Scholar
Deumert, Ana (2023). Positive vibrations: Voice, sound, and resonance as insurgency. Critical Inquiry in Language Studies 20(4):408–25.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Deumert, Ana, & Storch, Anne (2020). Introduction: Colonial linguistics – then and now. In Deumert, Ana, Storch, Anne, & Shepherd, Nick (eds.), Colonial and decolonial linguistics: Knowledges and epistemes, 121. Oxford: Oxford University Press.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Eckert, Penelope (2003). Sociolinguistics and authenticity: An elephant in the room. Journal of Sociolinguistics 7(3):392431.10.1111/1467-9481.00231CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Ellis, Erle C., Magliocca, Nicholas R., Stevens, Chris J., & Fuller, Dorian Q. (2018). Evolving the Anthropocene: Linking multi-level selection with long-term social-ecological change. Sustainability Science 13(1):119–28.10.1007/s11625-017-0513-6CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Erdocia, Iker, Schneider, Britta, & Migge, Bettina (2025). Language in the age of AI technology: From human to non-human authenticity, from public governance to privatised assemblages. Language in Society. Online: https://doi.org/10.1017/S004740452500017X.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Erdocia, Iker, Migge, Bettina, & Schneider, Britta (2024). Language is not a data set: Why overcoming ideologies of dataism is more important than ever in the age of AI. Journal of Sociolinguistics 28(5):2025.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Fair, Hannah, Scheer, Viola, Keil, Paul, Kiik, Laur, & Rust, Niki (2023). Dodo dilemmas: Conflicting ethical loyalties in conservation social science research. Area 55(2):245–53.10.1111/area.12839CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Foucault, Michel (1972). The archaeology of knowledge. Trans. by Smith, Sheridan A. M.. New York: Pantheon Books.Google Scholar
Gal, Susan (2016). Sociolinguistic differentiation. In Coupland, Nikolas (ed.), Sociolinguistics: Theoretical debates, 113–37. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Giroux, Henry A. (2004). Cultural studies, public pedagogy, and the responsibility of intellectuals. Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies 1(1):5979.10.1080/1479142042000180926CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Goffman, Erving (1959). The presentation of self in everyday life. Edinburgh: University of Edinburgh Press.Google Scholar
Goldhaber, Michael (2006). The value of openness in an attention economy. First Monday 11(6). Online: https://doi.org/10.5210/fm.v11i6.1334.Google Scholar
Goldman, Robert, & Papson, Stephen (2006). Capital’s brandscapes. Journal of Consumer Culture 6(3):327–53.10.1177/1469540506068682CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2019). YO! Or OY? – say what? Creative place-making through a metrolingual artifact in Dumbo, Brooklyn. International Journal of Multilingualism 16(1):4258.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2020a). Labour policies, language use and the ‘new’ economy: The case of adventure tourism. London: Palgrave Macmillan.10.1007/978-3-030-48705-8CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2020b). ‘What the fuck is this for a language, this cannot be Deutsch’: Language ideologies, policies, and semiotic practices of a kitchen crew in a hotel Restaurant. Language Policy 19(3):417–41.10.1007/s10993-020-09558-wCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2024). ‘From the side, you should look like a Japanese ham sandwich, no gap anywhere’: Exploring embodied, linguistic, and nonlinguistic signs in enregisterment processes of Bikram yoga in online and offline spaces. Signs and Society 12(1):83108.10.1086/728148CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2025). Entangled bodies, entangled Englishes? A case study of multilingual yoga classes. In Lee, Jerry W. & Rüdiger, Sofia (eds.), Entangled Englishes, 171–87. New York: Routledge.Google Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2026). The workforce and the economy. In Bianco, Joseph Lo & Lundberg, Adrian (eds.), Research in language policy and management. London: Bloomsbury, to appear.Google Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie, Erba, Federico, & Semadeni, Forugh (2025). Analysing political activism from below: A study of stickers in the Swiss semiotic landscape. Journal of Visual Political Communication 11(2):229–52.Google Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie, Erba, Federico, Semadeni, Forugh, & Demircan, Hüseyin (2024). Ephemeral, mobile and multilingual signs in public space: A pedagogical case study of stickers. In Gorter, Durk & Cenoz, Jasone (eds.), The handbook of linguistic landscape and multilingualism, 591606, Hoboken, NJ: Wiley Blackwell.Google Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie, & Lanza, Elizabeth (2024). Familyscapes, multilingualism, and family language policy. In Blackwood, Robert, Tufi, Stefania, & Amos, Will (eds.), The handbook of linguistic landscapes, 422–40. London: Bloomsbury.Google Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie, & Tommaso, M. Milani (2022). Street art/art in the street: Semiotics, politics, economy. Social Semiotics 32(4):425–43.10.1080/10350330.2022.2114724CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie (2026). Collecting and analyzing data at multilingual workplaces. In Lanza, Elizabeth, Røyneland, Unn, & Wei, Li (eds.), Current approaches in bilingualism and multilingualism research. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley Blackwell, to appear.Google Scholar
Gonçalves, Kellie, & Schluter, Anne Ambler (2024). Domestics workers talk: Language use and social practices in a multilingual workplace. (Language at work 9.) Bristol: Multilingual Matters.Google Scholar
Gruner & Jahr (2025). Natürlich Nachhaltig, wir lieben Holz. Schöner Wohnen: Europas Grösstes Wohnmagazin, August 2025. Online: https://www.zinio.com/nz/publications/schoner-wohnen/8910; accessed August 2025.Google Scholar
Harari, Yuval Noah (2024). Nexus: A brief history of information networks from the stone age to AI. New York: Random House.Google Scholar
Harvey, David (2005). Spaces of neoliberalization: Towards a theory of uneven geographical development. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag.Google Scholar
Heller, Monica, Jaworski, Adam, & Thurlow, Crispin (2014). Introduction: Sociolinguistics and tourism-mobilities, markets, multilingualism. Journal of Sociolinguistics 18(4):425–58.10.1111/josl.12091CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Howes, David, & Classen, Constance (2014). Ways of sensing: Understanding the senses in society. London: Routledge.Google Scholar
Hua, Zhu, Otsuji, Emi, & Pennycook, Alastair (2017). Multilingual, multisensory and multimodal repertories in corner shops, streets and markets: Introduction. Social Semiotics 27(4):383–93.10.1080/10350330.2017.1334383CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Irvine, Judith T. (1989). When talk isn’t cheap: Language and political economy. American Ethnologist 16(2):248–67.10.1525/ae.1989.16.2.02a00040CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Jaworski, Adam, & Thurlow, Crispin (2010). Introducing semiotic landscapes. In Jaworski, Adam & Thurlow, Crispin (eds.), Semiotic landscape: Language, image, space, 140. London: Bloomsbury.Google Scholar
Jaworski, Adam, & Wei, Li (2021). Introducing writing (in) the city. Social Semiotics 31(1):113.10.1080/10350330.2020.1827934CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Jeffrey, Allison, Barbour, Karen, & Thorpe, Holly (2021). Entangled yoga bodies. Somatechnics 11(3):340–58.10.3366/soma.2021.0364CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kallen, Jeffrey L. (2010). Changing landscapes: Language, space and policy in the Dublin linguistic landscape. In Jaworski, Adam & Thurlow, Crispin (eds.), Semiotic landscapes: Language, image, space, 4158. London: Bloomsbury.Google Scholar
Karlander, David (2019). A semiotics of nonexistence? Erasure and erased writing under anti-graffiti regimes. Linguistic Landscape 5(2):198216.10.1075/ll.18023.karCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kelly-Holmes, Helen (2005). Advertising as multilingual communication. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.10.1057/9780230503014CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kelly-Holmes, Helen (2022). Sociolinguistics in an increasingly technologized reality. Sociolinguistica 36(1–2):99110.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kelly-Holmes, Helen (2024). Artificial intelligence and the future of our sociolinguistic work. Journal of Sociolinguistics 28(5):310.10.1111/josl.12678CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kosatica, Maida (2025). Sustainable, no matter what you buy: Profiling affordances of beefy landscapes. Language in Society, this issue.Google Scholar
Kosatica, Maida, & Sean, P. Smith (2025). Introduction: Framing sustainability. In Kosatica, Maida & Smith, Sean P. (eds.), Framing sustainability in language and communication, 122. London: Routledge.10.4324/9781032719214CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kulick, Don (2017). Human-animal communication. Annual Review of Anthropology 46(1):357–78.10.1146/annurev-anthro-102116-041723CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kusters, Annelies (2017). ‘Our hands must be connected’: Visible gestures, tacticle gestures and objects in interactions featuring a deafblind customer in Mumbai. Social Semiotics 27(4):394410.10.1080/10350330.2017.1334386CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Labov, William (1972). Language in the inner city: Studies in the Black English Vernacular. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.Google Scholar
Lamb, Gavin (2024). Multispecies language landscapes: (Re)making beachscapes with monk seals in Hawai‘i. Linguistic Landscape 10(4):370–99.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lamb, Gavin (2025). Magnetic landscapes of multispecies activity in the Digital Anthropocene. Language in Society, this issue.Google Scholar
Lamb, Gavin, & Higgins, Christina (2020). Posthumanism and its implications for discourse studies. In Fina, Anna De & Georgakopoulou, Alexandra (eds.), The Cambridge handbook of discourse studies, 350–70. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.10.1017/9781108348195.017CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Ledin, Per, & Machin, David (2018). Doing visual analysis. Newbury Park: SAGE.Google Scholar
Lefebvre, Henri (1991). The production of space. Trans. by Nicholson-Smith, Donald. Oxford: Blackwell.Google Scholar
LePan, Don (2009) Animals. Petersborough: Broadview Press.Google Scholar
Lieberman, Harvey (2025). I’m a therapist. ChatGPT is eerily effective. The New York Times, August 2025. Online: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/01/opinion/chatgpt-therapist-journal-ai.html.Google Scholar
Lind, Miriam (2024). When dogs talk: Technologically mediated human-dog interactions as semiotic assemblages. Signs and Society 12(1):1436.10.1086/728033CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lindeblad, Björn Natthiko, Bankeler, Caroline, & Modiiri, Navid (2023). I may be wrong: And other wisdoms from life as a forest monk. Trans. by Bromme, Agned. London: Bloomsbury.Google Scholar
Lyons, Kate (2019). Let’s get phygital: Seeing through the ‘filtered’ landscape of Instagram. Linguistic Landscape 5(2):179–97.10.1075/ll.18025.lyoCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Machin, David, & Lui, Yueyue (2023). How tick list sustainability distracts from actual sustainable action: The UN 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. Critical Discourse Studies 21:164–81.10.1080/17405904.2023.2197606CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Magnason, Andri Snær (2025). The Icelandic landscape is changing, and its changing us. The New York Times. Online: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/19/opinion/iceland-climate-change.html; accessed July 20 , 2025.Google Scholar
Makoni, Sinfree (2019). Conflicting reactions to Chi’xuakax Utxiwa: A reflection on the practices and discourses of decolonization. Language, Culture and Society 1(1):147–51.10.1075/lcs.00011.makCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Makoni, Sinfree, & Pennycook, Alastair (2006). Disinventing and reconstituting languages. In Makoni, Sinfree & Pennycook, Alastair (eds.), Disinventing and reconstituting languages, 141, Clevedon: Multilingual Matters.10.21832/9781853599255CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Maly, Ico (2025). Digital face-work, politics, and small scandals. Language in Society. Online: https://doi.org/10.1017/S0047404524001076.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
McManus, Phil (2007). Contested terrains: Politics, stories and discourses of sustainability. Environmental Politics 5(1):4873.10.1080/09644019608414247CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Medway, Dominic (2015). Rethinking place branding and the ‘other’ senses. In Kavaratzis, Mihalis, Warnaby, Gary, & Ashworth, Gregory J. (eds.), Rethinking place branding: Comprehensive brand development for cities and regions, 191209. Cham: Springer.10.1007/978-3-319-12424-7_13CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Mignolo, Walter (2000). Local histories/global designs: Coloniality, subaltern knowledges, and border thinking. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.Google Scholar
Milroy, Lesley (1987). Language and social networks. 2nd edn. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.Google Scholar
Moriarty, Máiréad (2025). Rhizomatic assemblage of the seascape in the Anthropocene: MARA as a multisensory semiotic landscape approach. Language in Society, this issue.Google Scholar
Moore, Jason W. (2017). The Capialocene, part I: On the nature and origins of our ecological crisis. The Journal of Peasant Studies 44(3):594630.10.1080/03066150.2016.1235036CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Moore, Stephen, & Laffer, Arthur B. (2018). Trumponomics: Inside the America first plan to revive our economy. London: Macmillan.Google Scholar
Nae, Cristian (2023). Anthropocene as Capitalocene: Soil, land and territory in the artistic research of Anca Benera and Arnold Estefán. Third Text 37(5–6):545–64.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Osborne, Peter (2000). Travelling light: Photography, travel and visual culture. Manchester: Manchester University Press.Google Scholar
Pennycook, Alastair (2018). Applied linguistics as epistemic assemblage. AILA Review 31(1):113–34.10.1075/aila.00015.penCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Pennycook, Alastair (2022). Street art assemblage. Social Semiotics 32(4):563–76.10.1080/10350330.2022.2114731CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Pennycook, Alastair (2024). Language assemblages. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.10.1017/9781009348638CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Pietikäinen, Sari (2021). Powered by assemblage: Language for multiplicity. International Journal of the Sociology of Language 2021(267–268):235–40.10.1515/ijsl-2020-0074CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Pietikäinen, Sari (2024). Cold rush: Critical assemblage analysis of a heating Arctic. Berlin: Palgrave Macmillan.10.1007/978-3-031-63995-1CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Poole, Deborah (1997). Vision, race, and modernity: A visual economy of the Andean image world. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.10.1515/9780691234649CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Purschke, Christoph (2017). Crowdsourcing the linguistic landscape of a multilingual country: Introducing lingscape in Luxemburg. Linguistik Online 85(6):181202.10.13092/lo.85.4086CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Purschke, Christoph (2024). Digital approaches to linguistic landscape research. In Amos, Will, Blackwood, Robert, & Tufi, Stefania (eds.), The Bloomsbury handbook of linguistic landscapes, 6782. London: Bloomsbury.Google Scholar
Radtke, Theda, Apel, Theresa, Schenkel, Konstantin, Keller, Jan, & Eike von Lindern (2022). Digital detox: An effective solution in the smartphone era? A systematic literature review. Mobile Media & Communication 10(2):190215.10.1177/20501579211028647CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Rambukwella, Harshana, & Zavala, Virginia (2025). Decoloniality and language scholarship – A critical intervention. International Journal of the Sociology of Language. Online: https://doi.org/10.1515/ijsl-2024-0046.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Reershemius, Gertrud (2019). Lamppost networks: Stickers as a genre in urban semiotic landscapes. Social Semiotics 29(5):622–44.10.1080/10350330.2018.1504652CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Reershemius, Gertrud, & Ziegler, Evelyn (2025). Self-authorized discourses: The case of stickers. Journal of Visual Political Communication 11(2). Online: https://doi.org/10.1386/jvpc_00046_2.Google Scholar
Roberts, Margaret E. (2020). Resilience to online censorship. Annual Review of Political Science 23(1):401–19.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
San Román, Álvaro, & Molinero-Gerbeau, Yoan (2023). Anthropocene, Capitalocene or Westernocene? On the ideological foundations of the current climate crisis. Capitalism Nature Socialism 34(4):3957.10.1080/10455752.2023.2189131CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Santos, Boaventura de Sousa (2007). Beyond abyssal thinking: From global lines to ecologies of knowledge. Review (Fernand Braudel Center) 30(1):4589.Google Scholar
Scanlon, Kyla (2025). This is what Trumponomics is really about. The New York Times, April 16 2025. Online: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/16/opinion/trump-tariffs-trumponomics.html; accessed July 2025.Google Scholar
Schneider, Britta (2022). Multilingualism and AI: The regimentation of language in the age of digital capitalism. Signs and Society 10(3):362–87.10.1086/721757CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Schneider, Britta, & Heyd, Theresa (2024). Introduction: Unthinking language from a posthumanist perspective. Signs and Society 12(2):113.10.1086/728243CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Scollon, Ron, & Suzie Wong Scollon (2003). Discourses in place: Language in the material world. London: Routledge.10.4324/9780203422724CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Selin, Helaine (2003). Nature across cultures: Views of nature and the environment in non-western cultures. London: Kluwer Academic.10.1007/0-306-48094-8CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Sen, Amartya (1999). Development as freedom. Oxford: Oxford University Press.Google Scholar
Shohamy, Elana, & Ben-Rafael, Eliezer (2015). Introduction: Linguistic landscape, a new journal. Linguistic Landscape 1(1/2):15.Google Scholar
Sharma, Robin (2024). The wealth money can’t buy: The 8 hidden habits to live your richest life. Mumbai: Jaico Publishing House.Google Scholar
Sharma, Bal (2025). Anthropocentric engagement with the elephant in a tourist town. Language in Society, this issue.Google Scholar
Smith, Sean (2019). Landscapes for ‘likes’: Capitalizing on travel with Instagram. Social Semiotics 31(4):604–24.10.1080/10350330.2019.1664579CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Smith, Sean (2025) ‘Now there aren’t any birds’: Attention and disorientation in landscapes of planetary crisis. Language in Society, this issue.Google Scholar
Smith, Darren, Philipps, Martin, & Kinton, Chloe (2018). Wilderness gentrification: Moving ‘off-the-beaten rural tracks’. In Lees, Loretta & Phillips, Martin (eds.), Handbook of gentrification studies, 363–90, Northampton: Edward Elgar.Google Scholar
Snajdr, Edward, & Trinch, Shonna (2025). Rendering the Anthropocene: My-topias in the semiotics of Brooklyn’s Atlantic Yards conflict. Language in Society, this issue.Google Scholar
Srinivasan, Krithika, & Kasturirangan, Rajesh (2016). Political ecology, development and human exceptionalism. Geoforum 75:125–28.10.1016/j.geoforum.2016.07.011CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Staddon, Sam, Byg, Anja, Chapman, Mollie, Fish, Robert, Hague, Alice, & Horgan, Katie (2023). The value of listening and listening for values in conservation. People and Nature 5(2):343–56.10.1002/pan3.10232CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Sultana, Farhana (2023). Whose growth in whose planetary boundaries? Decolonising planetary justice in the Anthropocene. Geo: Geography and Environment 10(2):19.Google Scholar
Tagg, Caroline, & Lyons, Agnieszka (2022). Mobile messaging and resourcefulness: A post-digital ethnography. New York: Routledge.10.4324/9780429031465CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Telep, Suzie (2021). Performing whiteness, troubling blackness: Afropolitanism and the visual politics of black bodies in YouTube videos. Signs and Society 9(2):234–62.10.1086/714423CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Terranova, Tiziana (2012). Attention, economy and the brain. Culture Machine 13:119.Google Scholar
Thomas, Julia Adeney, Williams, Mark, & Zalasiewicz, Jan (2020). The Anthropocene: A multidisciplinary approach. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley.Google Scholar
Thorpe, Holly (2011). Snowboarding bodies in theory and practice. London: Palgrave Macmillan.10.1057/9780230305571CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Urry, John (2002). The tourist gaze. London: SAGE.Google Scholar
Veland, Siri, & Amanda, H. Lynch (2016). Scaling the Anthropocene: How the stories we tell matter. Geoforum 72: 15.10.1016/j.geoforum.2016.03.006CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Vold Lexander, Kristin, Gonçalves, Kellie, & De Korne, Haley (eds.) (2020). Introduction. Multilingual literacy practices: Global perspectives on visuality, materiality, and creativity. International Journal of Multilingualism 17(3):271–85.10.1080/14790718.2020.1766049CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Voss, Erik (2024). Artificial intelligence and linguistic landscape research: Affordances, challenges & considerations. Linguistic Landscape 10(4):400–24.10.1075/ll.24011.vosCrossRefGoogle Scholar
Wee, Lionel (2021). Posthumanist world Englishes. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.10.1017/9781108990615CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Figure 0

Figure 1. Veado sculpture in Praia do Norte, Nazaré, Portugal.

Figure 1

Figure 2. A picture of the Mittellegi hut originally built in 1924 equipped for climbers and mountaineers, which sits at 3,355 meters (11,007 feet) above sea level on the Mittellegigrat ridge, a salient feature of the Eiger mountain in the Junfrau Region in Switzerland.

Figure 2

Figure 3. Sustainability billboard by the Jungfraubahn, a local private railway company in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, which transports over one million guests a year to the ‘Top of Europe’.

Figure 3

Figure 4. A bilingual Sanskrit-English sign, NISHTA Sustainable Livin’ clothing store in Interlaken, Switzerland.

Figure 4

Figure 5. The August 2025 special issue of the magazine Schöner Wohnen (Europe’s largest living magazine) entitled Natürlich Nachhaltig, wir lieben Holz ‘Naturally sustainable, we love wood’.

Figure 5

Figure 6. ‘Be productive, be sustainable’ at a plant-based workplace in Austria.

Figure 6

Figure 7. A recycled bag that used to be a plastic bottle.

Figure 7

Figure 8. ‘Sustainable investment’ bank advertisement at Zurich airport.

Figure 8

Figure 9. Gras Papier Nachhaltig ‘Sustainable grass paper’.

Figure 9

Figure 10. ‘STOP EATING ANIMALS’ at the corner entrance of the Faculty of Humanities at the University of Bern, Switzerland, 2024.6

Figure 10

Figure 11. A photo taken by the author in Vienna airport in July 2025.

Figure 11

Figure 12. A postcard of Iris Art.

Figure 12

Figure 13. Think outside, no box required sticker.9