The previous chapter’s presentation of ethno-epistemic assemblages has apparently taken us a long way beyond the three main frameworks (of PUS, of governance and social theory) with which the opening half of this book was concerned (and which we summarized in Chapter 5). To relate this back to our Jarrow case study, where previously we had three perspectives sitting side by side, we now move to a more complex world where human and non-human action are no longer readily distinguishable and nature, society, science and technology blur into one another. Assemblages are dynamic rather than static and can both embody and transcend locality. Equally, assemblages suggest the more shifting and heterogeneous character of contemporary life. To state what should now be obvious, issues of the public understanding of science become transformed and new analytical possibilities emerge.
In such a situation, rather than seeking to answer in a once and for all fashion the question of ‘what is really going on in Jarrow?’ (whether in terms of the lay local, scientific citizens or local–global relations), we instead begin to recognize that these different forms of citizenship, identity and technical understanding are occurring simultaneously. The citizens of Jarrow cannot be squeezed into one category or another (for instance, as local or global, active or passive, ignorant or expert), but instead offer different self-representations at different points. Rhizome-like, just as one categorization has been completed, new categories start to pop up in the most unexpected places.
As one example of this, focus groups often commence with a vehement denial of any expert knowledge about the locality only to be followed by strong assertions that ‘the only people who really understand this area are those who live here’. Equally, questions about the health of people in the locality may be met with learned discussions about the state of salmon in the nearby River Tyne. What this also suggests is that the context within which questions are asked (a focus group, a questionnaire, a ballot slip) can be extremely important for the answers that are given. Once again, it is not a question of which is the ‘real’ form of citizenship but rather of which forms of
public and individual expression emerge in which settings. The Saturday afternoon animal rights activist is a Monday morning filing clerk, the politic- ally active citizen is also a couch potato, the avid viewer of television wildlife programmes is uninterested in the local chemical works (and, of course, vice versa). Old essentialist notions of citizenship and of scientific awareness give way to more flexible, partial and, at times, contradictory forms (the committed environmentalist who drives to work, the company director who is proud of her Greenpeace membership). While this can frustrate those who wish to encourage their own preferred, and usually one-dimensional, form of citizen- ship (whether of the active or passive, local or global, lay or scientific variety), we see this cross-cutting, fragmented and shifting character of contemporary citizenship as suggestive of new possibilities and opportunities.
To focus on the industrial operation at the centre of the Jarrow case, rather than seeing the local and the global (or industry and the public) as simply separate – or in opposition to – one another, rhizomic connections run through the locality and indeed interlink the North East of England to a corporate headquarters in Pennsylvania, USA, and to the research and manu- facturing activities of the company in twenty-seven different countries. As an excellent illustration of the governance theme of this book, the corporate web- site stresses a commitment to ‘community dialogue’ and to a ‘Responsible Neighbor’ programme, which has at its core the promotion of science, tech- nology and mathematics education. The website suggests that for ‘more than 50 years’ the company
has operated under the philosophy that maintaining an open line of communication with neighboring residents about all aspects of manufacturing processes and community issues is the responsible way to do business. One-way communication, however, is not adequate to assure that residents’ concerns are appropriately addressed.
(http://www.rohmhaas.com/community/dialogue/dia_overv.htm) Here, then, we have a global commitment to the local (and vice versa) via an assemblage which is not simply ‘corporate’ in character (which would suggest a unitary and discrete entity) but which ‘blurs’ local–global, lay– expert, industry–public relations. The English of the website may be American in construction, but it is also spoken in many regional dialects (and, indeed, languages) and given its embodiment in very specific contexts. Although the examples in this book have often related to public rather than industrial
policy, we would suggest that the assemblage concept is very appropriate to corporations (and, indeed, to other non-governmental organizations such as campaigning groups).
Having presented this framework for understanding the relationship between Science, Social Theory and Public Knowledge, the obvious questions now
concern the significance for academic understanding and for scientific governance. If we begin with matters of governance, what possible application has such an approach to the world of practical policy and everyday decision making? Certainly, one obvious objection to our account is that we have dis- assembled the conventional conceptions of scientific government and public understanding of science only to replace them with a looser and more slippery series of assemblages and fleeting alliances. How can any constructive path be plotted across such shifting and treacherous territory?
It must be acknowledged from the outset that translating the ethno- epistemic assemblage perspective into a practicable policy/governance (and also research) agenda is by no means a straightforward task. This is because the ethno-epistemic assemblage approach advocated in Chapter 6 is crucially geared to uncovering the complexity, heterogeneity and dynamism of sci- ence–lay relations. Indeed, as the structure of Chapter 6 amply attests, the ethno-epistemic assemblage perspective cannot by any stretch of the imagin- ation be considered ‘linear’. That is to say, such a perspective is not about articulating a coherent set of predicates from which can be derived a series of practical implications or research strategies. Rather, the ethno-epistemic assemblage approach consists of a range of heterogeneous analytic concerns (as indicated in the latter half of Chapter 6). These disparate concerns reflect the heterogeneity of the actors, relations and processes that make up ethno- epistemic assemblages. The performance of transparency, the partial role of technology in the production of ‘identity’, the enunciatory techniques of governmentality, these can be shown to be connected together and, as an assemblage, to shape the ‘public understanding of science’. However, there is nothing a priori ‘coherent’ or ‘cohesive’ in their connections or relations. As
the metaphor of the rhizome suggests, these connections or relations are
ad hoc (and, indeed, sometimes surprising), extending out like a mishapen,
knotted web rather than fitting together to form readily discernible patterns. It is decidedly problematic, then, to assume that these heterogeneous analyses can be directly converted into discrete political or policy recom- mendations or focused research programmes. Certainly, it is considerably eas- ier to derive from the ethno-epistemic assemblage perspective a series of rather loose pronouncements on the need for an analytic reorientation in the study of science–lay relations or for renewed political sensibilities. This has certainly been a temptation. However, we believe it important, despite these difficulties, to offer an, albeit circumspect and contingent, attempt at articulating a series of what we hope to be implementable measures in relation to both governance and research. What ties these measures together is an acknowledgement of the changing circumstances of science–public–governance relations at the begin- ning of the twenty-first century. As we will also suggest, perhaps the major implication of our analysis is that we need to reconsider the very notion of governance itself. Before this, however, we will consider some of the further
conceptual implications of this new framework for interpreting science–public relations.