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Lize-Marié van der Watt and Kati Lindström on Tourism and Heritage in Antarctica

Polar Geography has just released an article from the Creating Cultural Heritage in Antarctica Project (CHAQ) with both Kati Lindström and Lize-Marié van der Watt, the project’s PI, as co-authors. The article “Tourism and heritage in Antarctica: exploring cultural, natural and subliminal experiences” explores the inseparability of natural and cultural features in the tourist appreciation of heritage in Antarctica.
Remains of the first Swedish Antarctic Expedition (1901-1903) at Snow Hill island, Antarctica, documented by Swedish-Argentine research expedition CHAQ 2020. Division researchers Kati Lindström and Dag Avango (also at LTU) took part of the expedition. Photo: Kati Lindström

Abstract

The guidelines on heritage management adopted by the 2018 Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meeting provide the most recent iteration for an Antarctic tourism sector which had, prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, been projected to increase further with various risks and potential impacts requiring careful management. In this paper the role of cultural heritage for tourism prior to the COVID-19 pandemic is examined through three empirical perspectives. First, how the Antarctic cultural heritage is represented through the designation of Historic Sites and Monuments and Site Guidelines for Visitors; then how this is presented through tourism operators’ websites; and, finally, how it is experienced by visitors as narrated in open-source social media information. Each dataset suggests that, while cultural heritage is an important component of an increasingly commodified tourist offering, it is only part of an assemblage of elements which combine to create a subliminal and largely intangible Antarctic experience. In particular, a polarization of the heritage experience between cultural and natural does not appear productive. The paper proposes a more nuanced understanding of heritage tourism in Antarctica which accommodates the notion of a hybrid experience that integrates cultural heritage, the history and stories this heritage represents, and the natural environmental setting.

Link to the full article: Tourism and heritage in Antarctica: exploring cultural, natural and subliminal experiences by Bob Frame ,Daniela Liggett, Kati Lindström, Ricardo M. Roura  & Lize-Marié van der Watt.

Winter at Hope Bay, Antarctica

To Northern Europeans, Antarctica is still a place of wonder and mystery. This might even more so be the case in times of rapid climate change – for a plethora of reasons.

The following story happened at Hope Bay in Antarctica. In January 1902, Otto Nordenskjöld together with his Swedish Antarctic Expedition discovered the bay. Unfortunately, their boat sank due to collisions with floating ice and the expedition was forced to spent quite some time at land. The shipwrecked built a stone hut, which provided them with much-needed shelter against the elements. Ultimately, they were rescued by the Argentinian boat “ARA Uruguay” under the command of Julián Irízar and could return home.

The following text is a translation done by our division’s researcher Kati Lindström from Duse’s Amongst Penguins and Seals (Stockholm, Beijers Bokförlagsaktiebolag, 1905, pp. 178-181). Duse was a member of the stranded expedition. The translated text was originally published on the Melting History blog. This blog is part of the project evolving around CHAQ 2020 (Cultural Heritage Antarctica 2020), “an Argentinean-Swedish expedition to the historical remains of the First Swedish Antarctic Expedition 1901-1903 on the Antarctic Peninsula.” Researchers involved with ties to our division are Dag Avango (now Professor of History at Luleå University of Technology), Lize-Marié Hansen van der Watt and Kati Lindström.

Samuel Duse writes:

The worst was during the periods of rough weather when we were forced to stay inside the artificial polar darkness of the stone hut, not disturbed by a single ray of light – perhaps only when a heavier storm tore open the ice plaster in the roof. …

We soon learned to predict when the southern storms would hit. Usually, it first started with a quiet snowfall while the barometer sank. When the barometer started to raise again, it was not long before a gust of wind heralded that the dance is starting soon. The newly fallen snow would start to move and it was best to crawl into the stone hut while you could still see something. Here inside you could lay down now and listen to the wild play of the mighty storm. It whispered and roared, it whistled and squeaked, the roof pounded with flying ice bits and small stones. It sounded as if all hell’s demons were trying hard to lay their hands on us here inside.

But the stone hut was sturdy and no storm could pull it down. Despite the brutal cold inside, filthiness and darkness, we snugged into our sleeping bags with a feeling of gratitude and the feeling of triumph was not missing when we saw that wind was powerless against the creation of our hands.

The longer we laid captive there inside, the more desperately we desired to go back again towards the light, towards the blinding sun that gave warmth and life….

And then we finally got out again from the darkness, we felt like the sky shone lighter and bluer than ever before, that the glacier glittered in sunlight in richer colours, and that Mt Flora’s ridged hillsides rose skywards more majestically than ever. We filled our lungs with the clean fresh air and a feeling of freedom brimmed our hearts amidst our captivity.

For pictures of the stone hut remains check out the Melting History blog.

On “Protection and Improvement of the Human Environment”

Eric Paglia has just now published a new article in Humanities and Social Sciences CommunicationsTopic is the 1972 United Nations Stockholm Conference on the Human Environment. The conference was convened after the Swedish delegation’s intervention on behalf of environmental protection four to five years earlier. Happening within a framework determined by the goal of sustainable development, this event acted as an embryonic cornerstone of global environmental governance.

Profile picture of Eric Paglia

While working in our division’s project SPHERE (in partnership with the Universities of Cambridge, Berkeley and Sydney), Eric analyses this political milestone of environmental protection through the lens of science diplomacy. Among other things, the conference produced a joint declaration of principles, of which one small example can be seen here to illustrate the scope of the issues discussed:

Principle 2

The natural resources of the earth, including the air, water, land, flora and fauna and especially representative samples of natural ecosystems, must be safeguarded for the benefit of present and future generations through careful planning or management, as appropriate. [UN Report, p. 4.]

How did Swedish diplomats leverage science for their objectives in negotiations to achieve this declaration? How was science used to (successfully) lobby for convening a guiding UN environmental conference? What was the role of science during the conference’s preparation process?

You can find the answers to these questions and a lot more in Eric’s article!

Politics, industry, and tourism: The conceptual construction of the blue highway/Blå vägen: Politik, industri och turism

Division researcher Fredrik Bertilsson is published in the scientific journal the Journal of Transport History. In the article Politics, industry, and tourism: The conceptual construction of the blue highway Fredrik focus on Swedish governmental reports and national press between the 1950s and the 1970s to examine how the Blue Highway was conceptualized. The Highway runs from Mo i Rana on the Norwegian Atlantic coast through Västerbotten in Sweden, Ostrobothnia in Finland and to Pudozh near Petrozavodsk (Petroskoj) in Russia. Today seen upon as a tourist attraction, but the highway played a role in both political and industrial agendas in the mid-twentieth century. Please find the abstract and link to the publication as well as a blog post (in Swedish) from Fredrik below.

 

Fredrik Bertilsson came to the Division of History of Technology, Science, and Environment in 2018. His main research focus is within the area of knowledge management and research policy.

Abstract

This article contributes to the research on the expansion of the Swedish post-war road network by illuminating the role of tourism in addition to political and industrial agendas. Specifically, it examines the “conceptual construction” of the Blue Highway, which currently stretches from the Atlantic Coast of Norway, traverses through Sweden and Finland, and enters into Russia. The focus is on Swedish governmental reports and national press between the 1950s and the 1970s. The article identifies three overlapping meanings attached to the Blue Highway: a political agenda of improving the relationships between the Nordic countries, industrial interests, and tourism. Political ambitions of Nordic community building were clearly pronounced at the onset of the project. Industrial actors depended on the road for the building of power plants and dams. The road became gradually more connected with the view of tourism as the motor of regional development.
Full article: Politics, industry, and tourism: The conceptual construction of the blue highway

Sininen tie sign by Santeri Viinamäki . https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sininen_tie_sign_20190603.jpg

Blå vägen: Politik, industri och turism

Fredrik Bertilsson

Många av samhällets grundläggande funktioner bygger på vägtransporter. Utbyggnaden av det svenska vägnätet under efterkrigstiden spelade stor roll för samhällets utveckling. Vägar är inte bara materiella konstruktioner. Meningsskapandet kring vägar pågår i förhållande till bredare sociala, ekonomiska, politiska och kulturella förändringsprocesser. I historien om det moderna vägnätets expansion under andra halvan av 1900-talet står ofta den tekniska expertisen eller betydelsen av personbilen i centrum. Turismens inflytande har väckt mindre intresse i den historiska forskningen. Blå vägen är ett exempel på hur politiska initiativ, den industriella utvecklingen och turistnäringen samverkade.

Blå vägen går nu från Mo i Rana vid den norska atlantkusten genom Västerbotten i Sverige, Österbotten i Finland och till Pudozj nära Petrozavodsk (Petroskoj) i Ryssland. Numer betraktas vägen vanligen som en turistväg men flera intressen låg bakom dess tillkomst. Initiativet till att bygga vad som senare blev Blå vägen togs på 1950-talet men det fanns färdvägar och marknadsplatser längs sträckan långt tidigare. Vägen mellan Umeå och Lycksele byggdes under första delen av 1800-talet. Blå vägen invigdes 1964 och blev i början av 1970-talet en europaväg. Namnet Blå vägen anspelar på att vägen går längs med Umeälven i Sverige men det lär i själva verket ha tillkommit efter att vägen markerats ut på en karta med en blåfärgad penna.

Blå vägen förankrades i ett politiskt arbete med att förbättra relationerna mellan Sverige och Norge efter andra världskriget. Det skapades en större rörelsefrihet mellan de nordiska länderna. Från 1952 kunde skandinaver resa utan pass mellan Sverige, Norge och Danmark. Passfriheten sträckte sig till Finland 1953 och Island 1955. Passkontrollen för samtliga resande flyttades till Nordens yttre gränser 1958. Det fanns under mitten av 1960-talet förhoppningar om att Blå vägen skulle dras ända in i dåvarande Sovjetunionen, vilket skulle bidra till att öppna upp de rigida gränserna mellan Öst och Väst under kalla kriget. Det dröjde till slutet av 1990-talet innan den vägsträckningen blev verklighet.

Den stora statliga planen för utbyggnaden av svenska vägnätet som presenterades i slutet av 1950-talet utgjorde en grundplåt för moderniseringen av de svenska vägarna. Bättre vägar skulle lösa dels ett kapacitetsproblem som skulle uppstå när fler fordon måste trängas på vägarna, dels ett säkerhetsproblem: trafikolyckorna befarades öka om vägarna inte förbättrades. Blå vägen inrymdes inte i den ambitiösa vägplanen. Vägen finansierades istället av Vattenfall och genom kommunala insatser.

Aerial view of Umeå Arts Campus. Wikimedia Commons.

Industriella aktörer hade tydliga intressen i en ny väg. En väg till en isfri norsk hamn skulle gynna den omfattande transporten och exporten av trä och virke. Viktiga delar av den väg som fanns var stängd vintertid. Skogsindustrins intresse i en moderniserad väg förstärktes av att flottningen alltmer ersattes av lastbilstransporter. Det fanns också ett tydligt intresse av att rusta upp den befintliga vägen för att klara av den trafik som uppstod i samband med att vattenkraftverken i Umeälven byggdes.

Fler intressenter involverades successivt. Den så kallade Blå Vägen-föreningen bildades i början av 1960-talet för att påskynda vägbygget. Föreningen bestod av representanter från politiken, näringslivet och turistnäringen. Det fanns representanter även från Norge och Finland. Kommersiella intressen stod ofta i fokus. Blå vägen-föreningen fick draghjälp av den svenska pressen där den kunde föra ut sitt budskap och stärka intresset för vägen både lokalt, regionalt och nationellt. Det gjordes även program i radio.

Blå vägen betraktades som en lösning på flera stora problem som Västerbottens inland ansågs stå inför, inte minst vad gällde avfolkning och arbetslöshet. Byggandet av vägar hade varit ett sätt att skapa arbetstillfällen under lågkonjunkturerna under 1920- och 1930 talen. Vägarbetet var ett säsongsbetonat komplement till övriga inkomster men det genomfördes vanligen under svåra omständigheter och ersättningen var ofta låg. Från ett längre perspektiv var det ett led i en omställning från ett jordbruksbaserat samhälle till ett där industrier och servicenäringar har större betydelse.

The Blue Highway, Kattisavan Västerbotten. Wikimedia Commons.

Vägens betydelse för turistnäringen betonades allt tydligare. Västerbotten låg länge efter andra områden vad gällde turismen. Redan i slutet av 1800-talet fanns turistförbindelser till fjällvärlden i Abisko. Turistnäringen i Jämtland var också utvecklad. När Västerbottens turism drog igång på allvar var det inte längre aktuellt att satsa på järnvägar. Bilen betraktades dessutom som ”folkligare” än järnvägen.

Blå vägen laddades med stora förväntningar. I riksmedia målades en bild upp av en omfattande turisttrafik. Enligt en uppskattning i Expressen (26/7 1963) skulle hundratusentals turister åka längs Blå vägen under det första året och sedan väntades trafiken öka. Dagens Nyheter (7/12 1963) påpekade att Hemavans fjällhotell kunde byggas ut i samband med Blå vägens expansion. Turismen till skidanläggningarna i Västerbottensfjällen är en viktig inkomstkälla. Det går att spekulera i vilken betydelse turistekonomin fått för utvecklingen av skidnäringen i stort. Från Tärna kommer flera av Sveriges mest kända skidåkare, bland andra Anja Pärsson, Ingmar Stenmark och Stig Strand.

Marknadsföringen av Blå vägen spelade på stereotyper eller fantasier om norra Sverige. Det talades om en omvandling av landskapet, ett slags återanvändning av det gamla jordbrukssamhället som skulle bli till pittoreska vyer för moderna turister. Enligt Göteborgs-Tidningen (21/6 1964) gav en resa längs Blå vägen ”hela skalan av det svenska landskapets olika nyanser”, dvs. en modern universitetsstad i Umeå, bördig jordbruksbygd i kustlandet, gles bebyggelse i inlandet, ”milsvida skogar” och en ”fascinerande fjällvärld där snön ligger kvar året runt”. Samtidigt skulle turisterna få ta del av det moderna samhällets alla bekvämligheter.

Korpberget, Raven mountain, in Lycksele, with the E12 Blue Highway crossing the Ume river. Photo by Mikael Lindmark, WikiCommons

I många nutida sammanhang beskrivs Blå vägen främst som en turistväg utan att kopplingarna görs till det industriella arvet. De politiska betydelser som satte igång vägbygget träder också i bakgrunden. Den berättelsen ska ses i ljuset av de historiska narrativ som nu etableras om norra Sverige där turismen snarare än den industriella produktionen och utvinningen samt förädlingen av råvaror står i fokus. Blå vägens historia ger en inblick i hur politiska ambitioner, den industriella utvecklingen och efterkrigstidens turistnäring hängde ihop. Det skapades nya former av samverkan men det fanns också slitningar mellan olika intressen.

*

Texten bygger på en artikel som publicerats i Journal of Transport History, ”Politics, Industry and Tourism: The Conceptual Construction of the Blue Highway” (https://doi.org/10.1177/0022526620979506). Forskningen har finansierats av Brandförsäkringsverkets stiftelse för bebyggelsehistorisk forskning.

 

Discussing the issue of flying and sustainability

By Nina Wormbs

The week before Christmas, a number of colleagues at the Division gathered for a workshop where we discussed flying habits. It was part of the research project Decreased CO2-emissions in flight-intensive organisations: from data to practice at the EECS school, KTH Royal Institute of Technology, led by Daniel Pargman with funding from the Swedish Energy Agency. Elina Eriksson led the workshop with support from Daniel and Aksel Bjørn-Hansen.

The aim of the project is to see how we might reduce the carbon footprint of KTH that stems from flying. Since flying is a large part of KTH emissions and totally dominates those of travel, it could be seen as low hanging fruit. At the same time, travel is nowadays also part and parcel of academic culture. Thus, there are interesting obstacles to change behaviour.

Academic flying has interested us at the Division for many years and as a response to a discussion at our kick-off in 2015, the blog The travelling scientist was launched and Johan Gärdebo had a small project with workshops of similar kind.

In the workshop we received information on our flight patterns, data that the project has collected after great work. It was not easy for Pargman and his colleagues to get a full picture of the flying at KTH, and not even now do they know for certain the sources of KTH flying emissions. This data is of course crucial since the government has required that public agencies work with their emissions. And if we do not have data, we cannot report and reduce.

It turned out that flying at our Division, perhaps not so surprisingly, was not evenly distributed among our colleagues for the year 2019. Of 47 employees, 12 did not fly at all, whereas some made about a dozen flights. Moreover, the type of flights varied, and this is particularly interesting since the focus is CO2 emissions. Based on our division’s data a medium-range flight to Europe emits 3,4 times as much as a Scandinavian flight. And an intercontinental flight emits 20 times as much. Not surprisingly, Division emissions from intercontinental flights make up almost 80 percent. (See figure below.)

In the workshop we were encouraged to think about travelling and if and how to change it. This we did in small groups (everything on zoom of course) and with feedback through Menti. The first question regarded what flights could be avoided and common suggestions were intercontinental ones, very brief conference trips and those of committee work. On the other hand, field trips and archival work was hard to avoid.

This was most likely connected also to the insights of the pandemic, where we have realised that some things can indeed be done differently. The second question in the workshop focused on precisely this: what did we learn from the pandemic that we can use in the future. Here answers varied from the longing for real meetings with colleagues to realising that many meetings work fine digitally. Some digital conferences that we have experienced also shows that this was of meeting can be more inclusive.

About a dozen people joined the workshop, and hopefully it can still help the Division in contributing to a constructive change. KTH has environmental and emission targets and if we do not want to see hard regulation from above, we need to work from below. The workshop participants were in agreement that we have a responsibility to reach the climate objectives and most also believed that flying less is possible.

 

Nina Wormbs

Co-author of Grounded: Beyond flygskam (2019)

The ethnography of an ethnographer: Dmitry Arzyutov on the life of Andrej Danilin (1896-1942)

Our division has a very international setup, which is also reflected in the diversity of languages we publish in. Our colleague Dmitry Arzyutov (Candidate of Sciences in the field of anthropology, Kunstkamera St. Petersburg, and PhD-student at KTH in History of Science/ Environmental History) has just now published an article in the Russian journal “Siberian Historical Investigations” (Sibirskie istoricheskie issledovaniya). In this article Arzyutov uncovers the difficult archival situation one encounters while doing research on the life of one of the most prominent Soviet ethnographers of the inter-war period.

Andrej Grigor’evich Danilin (1896-1942) was a leading Russian scholar conducting ethnographic research on the people living in the Altaj region. In their article, Arzyutov reconstructs the archival situation concerning Danilin’s life and creates a map, of how Danilin archived his documents in his personal archive. The co-author of this article is Lidiya Danilina, the daughter of ethnographer Andrej Danilin. Together, they propose what they call an “ethnography of the ethnographer”, which turns the investigator-investigated matrix of earlier times upside down.

How did Danilin correspond with different people? How were bureaucratic situations dealt with? How can one find Danilin’s personal voice in his papers? If you want to find out more, check out the publications entry in DiVA.

Adam Wickberg and Johan Gärdebo introducing the concept of “Environing Media”

How has the relation between humans and Earth developed over the centuries? How have colonial and capitalist agendas operated globally, while the view of the planetary environment was shaped by the media?

Wickberg and Gärdebo see this relation as a “profound renegotiation” which continuously is reshaped, but which definitely encountered a “fundamental shift” after 1500 with the acceleration of human globalisation. The concept of environing media shall contribute to the scientific understanding of the role of media as a mediator to how the world is being seen on the basis of an ever-increasing collection of data in an age of digitisation. This can be used to understand the internal and ideological mechanics of colonial empires in a historical perspective. It also allows to understand today’s discourses on international flow of commodities and the movements of people on the background of the influence of modern mass media.

Check out this innovative approach in the journal Humanities!

Our New Post-Doc in Energy History: Marta Musso Investigating Resource Exploitation and Possibilities for Digital Archives

Covid-19 profoundly changes the way we work. What luckily has not changed, is that new people join us at the division. Marta has recently taken up the position of a post-doc, while we are mostly working from home. Thus we asked her the following questions to introduce Marta’s work, show potential for collaboration and to get to know her a little bit better.

A picture of Marta Musso, smiling warmly and friendly, open curly brown hair, glasses

Could you please tell us about yourself and the fields you are working on?

My name is Marta Musso and I am the new post-doc in energy history at the department, working together with Per Högselius. My research follows two main strands: the first one is linked to energy policy history, and it focusses on the international economic policy of resource exploitation, and the relations between state and enterprises in negotiations for resource exploitation in the post-colonial years. The second strand of research refers to the development of digital archives, and the usage of digital-born documents on behalf of historians. I am involved in preservation projects to allow historians to make the best out of digitisation and digital technologies, such as Archives Portal Europe (www.archivesportaleurope.net). At the same time, I am an advocate of digital preservation, particularly for what concerns energy archives. Currently I am the president of Eogan, the network of energy archives.

What do you work on right now? Do you feel an impact by the current pandemic on your work?

My current research project at KTH is an extension of my PhD, which focussed on the development of the Algerian oil industry and on the nationalisation of oil resources in the post-colonial years. I am now looking at the claims of the G-77 and OPEC countries in particular with regards to the international commodity market in the years leading to and following the 1973 oil crisis. Luckily so far I have found a lot of material online (thumbs up to the UN archives which have a very good digitisation strategy!), and I have much material from my PhD years that I did not get to properly study (particular from the OPEC archives). However, I would like to also visit the OECD archives in Paris and not only are they closed, but on their website they state clearly that they do not do digitisation on demand. Hopefully the situation will change between now and Autumn 2021. Other than that, it is bad that I cannot get to meet my new colleagues and get a better feeling of the spirit of the department; on the other hand, there are a lot of interesting things happening online and I don’t feel like I am missing out. As a matter of fact, having a toddler in the house, some things are easier to do online than in person, so I also appreciate the good side of this difficult situation.

What do you aim for in the near future in terms of research, projects, or public outreach?

I hope to have a book manuscript by end of 2021, and 2/3 papers out in the meantime. I also really like to engage in public history projects, and I would like to be more involved in making documentaries or to communicate my research in other ways than academic papers – but it is difficult to find the time and the opportunities! I also hope that my research could be of interest to current energy policies, particularly with regards to international coordination in the fight against climate change. One of the aims of my current research is to show how many lost opportunities there were in the 1970s to develop a more balance global economy

In the very near future, I am presenting a volume I have recently co-edited, which is being published by the Journal of Energy History as open access, on the 11th December, at 2pm. (Registration here)

Video presentation of Marta’s project

Thank you Marta. It is great to have you and your expertise with us!

Examining nature and society through urban infrastructure (NATURE)

by Timos Karpouzoglou

With funding recently received from Riksbankens Jubileumsfond, a new 3-year project has been launched at the Division of History of Science, Technology and Environment.

In the project NATURE, we are an international team of researchers that will be looking at an all too familiar term these days but with a slightly different angle. As researchers, we are increasingly exposed and concerned about the challenges of nature, for instance its role in society and the way ecological concerns are creating a new form of discourse—some would even say an anxiety—about the future of societies. In other words, we see the connection of nature and society as becoming re-thought, and, perhaps more than before, intertwined with the everyday practice of living and imagining our world.

This new rewiring of nature and society poses a set of interesting questions and dilemmas for the critical scholar of infrastructure. For over a century, infrastructure planning has been heavily influenced by modernity; and, in particular, an engineering ideal of universal, uniform, networked infrastructure materialized in those such as grid electricity networks, water and sanitation networks and other similar large socio-technical systems (Furlong 2014). However, we believe that we are witnessing a set of processes that vary globally but, at their core, are about embracing infrastructure heterogeneity. Discourses focusing on resilience in infrastructure planning are also increasingly influential in directing attention to a different way of thinking about the role of nature and society as part of infrastructure (Karpouzoglou et al 2019). In cities like Guwahati, India, the importance of natural ecosystems such as wetlands can be viewed as heterogeneous infrastructure for flood mitigation of the Brahmaputra river (See Figure 1). Hence, in our study, we place special emphasis on exploring the role of ‘heterogeneous infrastructure configurations,’ a phrase that aims to capture the diversity of infrastructure which we are witnessing today (Lawhon et al. 2018).

Figure 1: Wetlands along the Brahmaputra River, Guwahati, India, photo credit, Sumit Vij.

During the project’s three years, we seek to widen the perspective of nature and society by considering different components of modernity, specifically, modern ideas of infrastructure and of nature. We are inspired by work that describes the notion that technology (and sociotechnical systems) carries values and ideas which are built into the artifacts by their designers and system builders and co-created by users (Akrich 1992). In other words, even if infrastructure is often conceived as a technological endeavor—it is never purely technological.

Central to our methodology will be narrative enquiry (Sinclair 2002). In other words, by focusing on the storytelling practices of socio-technical regime actors such as engineers and planners in the cities of Stockholm (Sweden), Guwahati (India) and Kampala (Uganda) we will attempt to bring to the surface potentially unaddressed narratives of nature and society. We will also experiment with creative techniques, including the use of boundary objects (e.g. photographs, toy models of different kinds of infrastructure) that will help structure and prompt respondents to explore unspoken ideas. By means of organizing a public exhibition in the Stockholm area, we will explore the role of the arts as a medium for communicating new ideas about infrastructure.

NATURE Research Team

Timos Karpouzoglou, Division of History of Science, Technology & Environment, KTH, Sweden
Pär Blomqvist, University of Mälardalen, Sweden
Mary Lawhon, Department of Geography and Environmental Sustainability. University of Oklahoma, USA
Katarina Larsen, Division of History of Science, Technology & Environment, KTH, Sweden
David Nilsson, Division of History of Science, Technology & Environment, KTH, Sweden
Sumit Vij, Public Policy and Administration group, Wageningen University & Research, The Netherlands

References

  1. Akrich, M., 1992. “The De-scription of Technical Objects.” In Wiebe Bijker and John Law, eds., Shaping Technology/Building Society: Studies in Sociotechnical Change, pp. 205-224.MIT Press, Cambridge, MA.
  2. Furlong, K., 2014. “STS beyond the ‘modern infrastructure ideal’: extending theory by engaging with infrastructure challenges in the South.” Technology in Society, 38, 139-147.
  3. Karpouzoglou. et al. 2019. “Unearthing the ripple effects of power and resilience in large river deltas.” Environmental Science & Policy.
  4. Lawhon, Mary, David Nilsson, Jonathan Silver, Henrik Ernstson, and Shuaib Lwasa. 2018. “Thinking through Heterogeneous Infrastructure Configurations.” Urban Studies 55 (February).
  5. Sinclair BJ., 2002. “Narrative inquiry: more than just telling stories.” TESOL Quart, 36, 207– 213.

The Creep and Leap of Knowledge: On “source criticism” and “semilingualism” as impactful ideas of the human sciences

by Linus Salö and Fredrik Bertilsson

In the not-so-distant future, people in the rich parts of the world will see driverless cars, ‘smart houses’ controlled through 5G applications, and other new inventions, as part of their every-day lives. It will be evident that quite a bit of knowledge has gone into their development. Indeed, many things that surround us are the products of science and technological innovation, which is to say that the products of knowledge-making institutions matter – they have, as it were, an impact.

We also surround ourselves with a multitude of less “thingy” products of insistent research and knowledge production. These constitute products that we often cannot see, touch, smell or use instrumentally, and we often take their existence for granted. But they matter too, and profoundly so. We think of mundane words and concepts that help us make sense of ourselves and the world in which we live. We think of basic societal values, ideas, and ideals that shape how people act, societies work, and political decisions are made. We think of school subjects in the curriculum, social security systems or gender equality policies. Such intangible things are also products of systematic knowledge production, which have made their way into the world through slow, complex processes of knowledge uptake. They are social, conceptual or cultural innovations, and they have a profound impact on how we live our lives.

It is becoming increasingly common to re-think the impact of academic knowledge production in this vein. This is good, we think, not least because new modes of thinking do better justice to the knowledge produced by the human sciences. One part of such an agenda is to find new and better ways of thinking about the ways, modes and time-frames in which knowledge moves, and to become more receptive to the various effects such knowledge might yield. Our colleagues at Humanomics Research Centre at Aalborg University, for instance, frame such movement in terms of “the creep of knowledge,” and have developed quite sophisticated ways of measuring and visualizing the often slow but far-reaching significance of the human sciences.

Set against this backdrop, this blog entry exemplifies two of the manifold cases where ideas developed in the human sciences have crept, but also leapt, into other societal spheres, where they have produced unexpected transformations. These are “source criticism” and “semilingualism” – two knowledge objects which have shaped the social world through their conceptual travels.

Source criticism

Source criticism refers to a scientific method for assessing sources of information. It was originally developed by historians during the nineteenth and twentieth century for distinguishing reliable sources from (e.g.) myths or propaganda. It has had a huge impact on historical research. There have been many revisions of source criticism, but it has remained an important methodological tool of Scandinavian historical scholarship over the twentieth century. It has also been taken up and developed in other domains of research and knowledge production, perhaps most notably in journalism.

Source criticism has also been a natural part of the Swedish psychological defence that developed after the Second World War, concerned with, for instance, protecting the population from propaganda and psychological warfare. It was essential that the population critically assessed information they received. This has become especially acute in relation to the major changes of the media landscape over the last decades, and not least through the broad public use of the internet since the 1990s. The National Board of Psychological Defence (Styrelsen för psykologiskt försvar, SPF) explicitly stressed how the principles of source criticism was essential to everyone using the internet for seeking information and knowledge.

Currently, the significance of source criticism is emphasised in relation to the potential influence of disinformation and deception campaigns on the political development. The Swedish Contingency Agency (Myndigheten för samhällsskydd och beredskap, MSB) underscores how a psychological defence is crucial for the protection of the democratic society and informed decision-making. In turn, it states that psychological defense depends on the capacity of the population of being critical of sources of information and its ability to judge whether information is credible or not. In a similar fashion, the Swedish Armed Forces emphasises that it is “part of everyone’s responsibility for the total defence … to learn more about source criticism, to be vigilant, and seek facts from several credible sources.” The significance of source criticism is also emphasised in the broad efforts of the Swedish government to promote and defend democracy as well as in the national strategy for information and cyber security. In addition, source criticism is part of the teaching on essentially all levels of education. Thus, from the pursuit of advancing the science of history in the nineteenth century, source criticism has now become a crucial tool in safeguarding fundamental democratic principles in the light of present and future challenges.

Semilingualism

Developed in the 1960s, semilingualism refers to an assumed form of failed bilingualism, a case of incomplete language learning. The concept implies that an individual does not master any language entirely, but speaks two “half languages.” Among linguists, the concept is nowadays rejected as being morally and scientifically obsolete. In fact, using it exposes the user’s lack of up-to-date knowledge in linguistics. Interestingly, some contemporary linguists seemingly feel ashamed that their field was responsible for producing a concept this flawed. What such linguists have yet to realise, however, is the “appealing” effects that this “appalling” idea had on the introduction of Swedish policies for linguistic minorities in the 1970s.

Insofar as semilingualism has an inventor, it was the Swedish linguist Nils Erik Hansegård. In the 1950s, he moved to Kiruna in the far north where he worked as a teacher. In this part of historically multilingual Sweden, Tornedalen, the state had for decades imposed a hardline Swedification policy, for example though Swedish-only school instruction. Hansegård was critical of this policy-line and started propagating in favour of allowing additional Finnish-medium instruction in the school system. In the 1960s, Hansegård also embarked on an academic career and sought to use his scientific authority and knowledgeability in the local print-press debates that his stances spurred. The idea of semilingualism was a case in point, construed by Hansegård by weaving an intellectual fabric with multiple threads: German cultural linguistics and psychology of language, North American bilingualism studies, structural linguistics, and input from bilingual education practices in Europe. The result was a concept that appeared well-anchored in research.

In the 1970s, semilingualism became a buzzword also in national media as well as in national politics. The fact that it went viral cannot be explained only with reference to its perceived scientific qualities. Rather, the early 1970s was characterised by a particular climate of opinion. The Swedish administration was busy finding viable solutions in immigration-related policy areas. It sought after actionable knowledge. A central concern here was educational language provisions for immigrants and their children. Here, semilingualism came to be readily used as a warning flag: if children are not offered instruction in and about their mother tongue, Sweden would foster generations of linguistically impaired – semilingual – immigrant children. This was a much-unwanted scenario, and through commission work mother tongue instruction (or home language instruction) became a reality. This policy has now been in place for more than 40 years. Over time, the impact that semilingualism had on its introduction has gradually bleached.

Two highly impactful ideas

We have here outlined two highly impactful ideas which originally came into being in the academic world but subsequently traveled into new regions of the social world. While they differ in some ways, as impact stories they share a number of traits. Source criticism arose in the scientific field of history. In due time, it travelled into other societal realms: journalism, the educational system and even the national security apparatus. Semilingualism emerged out of the language sciences, more particularly, early bilingualism research. It later traveled into state politics, where it shoehorned the school subject mother tongue instruction into the curriculum. Gradually, and often discreetly, they have thus impacted the management of major societal areas sometimes far beyond their academic origins. This sort of impactful movement, we think, is neatly captured by the concept of “the creep of knowledge,” which pinpoints the slow and continuous character of knowledge movement. However, both cases also illustrate that knowledge does not only creep. It also leaps. Such leaps are manifested in historical moments where the slow pace of knowledge movement is promptly accelerated in ways which enables it to cross over and move into new and perhaps unexpected regions of the social world. The impact of the human sciences seems to require such leaps, and the leaps seem to invariably depend upon broader social, political and cultural developments which pave the way for their successful travels.

Note: For those who are interested, take a look at this study that focuses on semilingualism, co-authored with David Karlander.