b Applying ‘an ethic of care’ in the heritage context

Appendix 1 shows how the 1997 New Labour government was heavily influenced by the work of sociologist Anthony Giddens (1986, 1995). Giddens’s concept of

‘social exclusion’ can be regarded as having helped kick-start ‘intense change’ to homelessness legislation (McNaughton 2008), most obviously through a large injection of funds and the enactment of the Homelessness Act 2002 which expanded the list of those who could be considered eligible for housing assistance. Discussions were prompted around ‘emotional responsiveness’ and what has become known in social policy terms as an ‘ethic of care’, promoted within nursing and social work (Banks 2001:46).

It has been argued that ‘…the literature on social work and ethics has focussed on…principles about how the social worker ought to treat the individual service user’ (Banks 2001: 24) where a central Kantian derived principle in particular,

‘respect for persons’, is primary (Kant 1964, Plant 1970, Crisp & Slote 1997, Banks 2001). Throughout field-work, I maintained respect for homeless people as

individual human beings, respect for their perspectives and respect for them as

‘knowledgeable agents’ (Barrett 1988). I did not behave respectfully towards homeless colleagues out of a sense of ‘duty’ (Kant 1964, Banks 2001). Nor did I behave respectfully towards them because it was the ‘…most likely way to produce

…the greatest balance of good over evil (the principle of utility)’ (Banks 2001: 31);

or through any sense of ‘moral self’ (van Meijl 2000). I try to behave respectfully towards all human beings because I think respect enhances healthy relationships and, to me, it is part of being a ‘good’ person. As Scarre and Scarre note:

‘The ethics of any profession cannot be conceived in isolation from ethics in general…we should be good persons before we are good archaeologists, philosophers, politicians or bus drivers’ (Scarre & Scarre 2006:4).

Modern social work ethics can be seen to derive from ‘virtue ethics’, themselves critically reappraised by multiple disciplines after the publication of G.E.M.

Anscombe’s 1958 paper, Modern Moral Philosophy, which ‘…provided a counterpoint to the utilitarian and deontological theories then in vogue’ (Colwell-Chanthaphonh & Ferguson 2006: 118). Deriving from an Aristotelian background, virtue ethics tended to focus on virtues such as courage, justice and honesty, attributes conventionally associated with men (Okin 1994, cited in Banks 2001).

More recently, scholars have argued that virtues such as ‘caring’, ‘nurturing’ and

‘the ability to listen carefully’ (traditionally feminine virtues) should inform the practice of ‘good’ social work (Okin 1994: 228, cited in Banks 2001) ‘…a key element of what has been termed ‘an ethic of care’ (Banks 2001:46). Applying such an ‘ethic of care’ is important in undertaking ethnographic research, such as that described here, where a high level of emotional sophistication (and ‘on the spot’

responsiveness) was integral to managing colleagues’ expectation in a way that sustained trust but did not give anyone cause to expect more from the project than it could give (for example, there were small things that I could offer colleagues such as the loan of books we had spoken about).

Kantian principles of consistency and promise-keeping are often cited as integral to

‘good’ social work and ‘ethical’ care (Biestek 1961, Gilligan 1982, Nodding 1984, Baier 1995, Banks 2001). It was vitally important that I did not let-down homeless colleagues at any point throughout fieldwork. This courtesy was not consistently reciprocated at the start of the project but improved dramatically throughout the course of fieldwork (see also Chapter Eight). I could not risk breaking promises or a situation arising whereby it could be perceived that I had broken a promise (for example, if I was unsure whether I could commit to working with someone, I did not mention the possibility). There were situations where a more Utilitarian ethical approach was necessary (for example, at Christmas). It was both impractical and

impossible to give Christmas presents to all the homeless people with whom I worked so I decided it would be least harmful to give no presents at all (Shaw 1999).

In working with homeless people on the documentation of their cultural heritage I have sought always to respect individual worth and remain non-judgmental. It is not for the archaeologist to assign guilt or evaluate behaviours (Biestek 1961, Banks 2001). Within the limitations imposed by legalities and funding, I sought at all times to facilitate ‘participant self-determination’, that is, I asked homeless colleagues to direct the project and make decisions over how best to proceed.

The socially constructed perspective from which I was viewed by colleagues meant that the project and I were treated differently by colleagues from Bristol and York. In Bristol, a city that was my home for many years, I was perceived by colleagues as ‘a squatter’ and also an archaeologist. In Bristol homeless people identified with the fact that I was regularly in and out of abandoned buildings and vaguely

‘anti-establishment’ because I was keen to record ‘alternative’ perspectives. This has been confirmed to me anecdotally. Some elements of the squat fraternity were critical when I chose to move to York to continue with a PhD, seeing formal education as

‘becoming part of them’. Moving to York meant that I was 300 miles away from friends and family and I felt it was important to maintain my own personal safety by remaining professionally involved with homeless people rather than associated with what was then the legal practice of squatting disused buildings. The result was that York homeless colleagues viewed me as ‘staff’. I have anecdotal evidence that I was shown ‘cleansed’ and ‘acceptable’ homeless sites in York and protected from the less salubrious places.

If, as the Declaration of Human Rights states, everyone is to be facilitated to,

‘…participate in the cultural life of the community… ’ then an ‘ethic of care’ such as that outlined above is particularly relevant for archaeologists because ‘everyone’

includes people who are traditionally ‘hard to reach’. Rather than accept that some people are ‘too difficult’ to engage in archaeological work I suggest that the onus is on the discipline to develop methodologies for working with traditionally

marginalised groups in ways that are meaningful and appropriate to them. Possibly,

the paucity of research on how we might work with people with complex needs is explained by the fact the work is extremely difficult! I contend that rather than acting out of a sense of duty or learning how to implement a ‘solid’ Code of Ethics (Tarlow

& West 1999, Banks 2001, Tarlow 2001, Hamilakis & Duke 2007) ethical dilemmas were negotiated as they presented themselves and that I acted with humility and consistency.