...containers

The general topic that Cassie, Fiona, and I are working with at present is something like "how is anti-consumerism (we still have to define this) a cultural (we could probably afford to clarify this as well) movement (why the hell not...)?" We're each planning to pursue different foci within this broad shape. My focus will probably have something to do with food.









This picture (credit to Joel Heller) was taken at a table at De Peper, an organic, vegan restaurant at overtoom 301, "a legalised squat with a large performance/rehearsal space, cinema, and gallery with an inspired programme of [sub]cultural activities," according to the De Peper website. What makes this squat a gathering point for all of these cultural (and culinary) activities? I'm going to go out on a limb (following a prudent period of fasting, of course) and try to connect this to de Certeau, by suggesting that this squatting/DIY culture is related to an attempt to restore "habitable" spaces and create new "narratives." That is, it tries to resist enumeration (or regular arrangement) and, you know, to make places more "believable."







<- images credit to Annie Wu

Our synecdoche is the building housing De Peper and this cinema/performance space/gallery; since it collects all of these things, it is a synecdoche for whatever movement might be characterized by them.

The Research Polynomial

In line with the thoughts at the end of my last post, I’ve kept pursuing the topic of food (production, distribution, and consumption). The source of production seems like a logical place to start—and it makes sense to begin with the Netherlands’ official account, provided by the Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Apparently,

“The Netherlands is one of the world’s three largest exporters of agricultural produce.”

But what really surprises me is this:

“The agricultural sector’s productivity has grown enormously in the past few decades. This is largely due to high-quality training, first-class research and an effective system of disseminating practical advice to farmers. But growth is no longer a priority. The priorities now are the environment, animal welfare and the quality of produce.” [my italics]

Could they really be that sane? The site also says that “thirty per cent of Dutch consumers now regularly buy organic produce.” I wonder which thirty percent this is, and what is meant by “regularly.” There seems to be a conflict in me between a cynicism about all government and business, and an idealization of Western Europe. So while I can't believe that a sector of the market would responsibly self-regulate like that, I also want to believe that such a thing is possible, if only in Europe. It's challenging to balance these two prejudices and see things as they really are (or might be, depending on your perspective).

Anyway, I thought that this government site would be a good resource for primary information, but in a way it seems to be more like a subjective representation than a source of actual “data.” Although there is at least one page with Official Figures (bicycle ownership is 81.4 percent!). And here’s an even better source.

Looking at Amsterdam in particular, I found A Seed Europe, which isn't really primary material in and of itself (unless I'm studying how information about food is organized and disseminated), but does seem like a great resource for finding food in the city, and probably has some links to more direct sources of information.

Here's a list of supermarkets.

And, hooray, a paper about urban agriculture (again, not a primary source, but interesting reading).

I'm starting to realize that "food" is a big category. I'm not sure how to narrow it down, though--I seem to have a tendency to choose a desired outcome and then "reverse-engineer" a research question from that. If I keep looking for various information sources, I'm sure I'll eventually come up with something that works, but I think a better way to arrive at a non-leading question would be to get some influence from elsewhere. Several other people have mentioned topics that I also think are really interesting, so I wonder if I might adopt someone else's subject, and then maybe use "food" as a focus within that.

Blog Assignment 4: Research THING

Because of the rain on Sunday, we (Haylee, Ruben, and I) decided to follow the rest of Seattle (synecdoche!) into the cafes. Our meeting point (and reference point) was Cafe Solstice on University and 41st. Because it was the first cafe that we visited, however, and because we had not yet determined what our research questions would be, it was only after we visited another cafe that we began to notice many factors that are common to these settings, and many telling ways in which they are different.

We implicitly decided that the most effective and realistic position to adopt with respect to observation in the cafes would be as participants, rather than outsiders. Zeisel makes the distinction between marginal and full participants, but it was difficult to delineate this difference in the contexts of these particular cafes, since the activity was always more or less evenly distributed, and being a “normal” participant did not mean being in the center. Insofar as there was no center, then, we could say that we, along with everyone else in the cafes, were marginal participants.

Another reason for participating was that it gave us immediate information about the kinds of forces exerted by the characteristics of each cafe environment, which were felt by other participants. The second cafe that we visited was the Star Life on 50th and University. One of the first things that we noticed about it was the almost oppressive atmosphere of quiet. The music was barely audible, and the few conversations that were going on were always in hushed voices. In this setting, much of our attention was focused on minimizing our intrusiveness. Any words spoken above a certain loudness level provoked glares from nearby participants, which temporarily undermined our roles as marginal participants by making us a local center of attention.

This problem suggested a possible path of inquiry: what factors contributed to the sense of forced quiet in the Star Life, as opposed to the boisterousness of Cafe Solstice? It would be difficult to draw conclusions about causality based on merely two sources of data, so we visited Trabant, another cafe in the area (on 45th and University). Three cafes is obviously still insufficient for any kind of quantity-based analysis, but it allowed us to see a few more important elements of a cafe setting that we might have overlooked or taken for granted had we observed only one or two. In any case, a comparison of multiple sites is really only one relevant type of analysis. Lynch and Rivkin, for instance, tabulate differences between many participants in one large setting. And even without any large quantity of data, interesting ideas can be suggested on the basis of individual observations.

The problem of how environmental factors influenced behavior in these cafes suggests the converse question of how much of the participants independently and consciously or unconsciously influenced the environment. For example, did the low volume of music in the Star Life enforce a level of quiet in the participants, and also attract participants who were disposed to being quiet, or did the participants cause the owner to turn down the music by being quiet in the first place? Or could both be true? This leads to a more general statement of the problem: To what extent is a cafe a public space, and to what extent is it a private space? That is, a cafe is often used as a gathering point, and a place for free interaction and discussion, as well as for solitary activities. In many ways it resembles a park, for instance. Yet, legally, a cafe is private. How does this fact make a cafe different from a park? And, finally, could the ambiguous span between public and private that exists in a cafe allow private interests or individuals to exert influence over supposedly public activities without the participants’ awareness of this influence? I think this last would be the most interesting research question.

In line with Lynch and Rivkin, a continuation of this study might involve more direct inquiry, for instance by asking participants in the cafes why they had chosen their particular cafe (whether they had an activity in mind), or whether they had chosen their activity as a result of the cafe itself. Another type of observation that would be central to this research would be a collection of physical traces and behaviors, as per Zeisel, and this is similar to our original mode of observation. Much of our observation had the goal of impartially collecting details about the physical settings of the cafes, which could then be compared at our leisure in search of correlations. This included drawing maps of the Star Life and Trabant, as well as recording notable environmental attributes (There is of course some partiality in the details we chose to transcribe, and much of this bias can be inferred from our notes below; for example, our record of ratio of laptops to participants clearly shows that we thought laptops might be an important factor). An extension of this type of observation would pay much more attention behavior, since most of what we recorded had to do with the environment itself. Finally, we used photographs as another way of recording attributes of the environment. Photos and maps (both used by Zeisel) complement each other well, because photos are more effective at recording details, whereas maps are more effective for the noticing effects of the overall physical space.

Below are the “floor plans,” photos, and the list of observations. I drew the maps, Haylee was the photographer, and the notes should be attributed to Ruben.
























































Star Life
Hours: Sun-Mon, 9-11; Tues, closed; Wed-Sat, 9-10:30
• One window
• Classical music (followed by non-classical, but still instrumental music)
• Small
• Barista not visible from many parts of the café
• Medium lighting
• Looks like a house
• Pastel colored walled
• Low ceilings
• Lack of view of the outside
• Entrance is not right near the street
• Quiet
• Max of 2 people per table observed
• Mismatched ‘potpourri’ of furniture
• 4 computers; 19 people

Trabant
Hours: Mon-Fri, 6:30-midnight; Sat-Sun, 9-midnight
• Very open; two-story
• More uniform, thematic
o Industrial theme
--------• dark colors: black tables and chairs, brown and blue walls
--------• lot of metal
--------• urban photos on the wall
--------• “unfinished” floors on the second floor; an apparently intentional “incomplete” room
--------• Piping on the outside of the wall
• Barely audible music (w/ lyrics)
• Lot of space between tables; like islands
• Dimmer lighting
• Lots of large windows
• Max of 4 people per table observed
• Acoustics – louder kitchen whose noise is even more amplified by the openness
• Bar seating
• High ceilings with large hanging lights
• 12 computers; 29 people




As far as Amsterdam goes, I don't intend to continue studying cafes (or coffeehouses, for that matter). But that's not to say that this exercise wasn't helpful in this regard, since it did give me an opportunity to think about doing actual research actually, as opposed to thinking about doing abstract research abstractly. I'm not ready to honestly say, conclusively, what my primary research interest is, but my working response is "food." Specifically, I'm interested in how food is produced, distributed, obtained, consumed, and wasted, and the concomitant ethical and environmental issues. I would also like to believe that this interest isn't entirely due to my reading The Omnivore's Dilemma earlier this year. Anyway, where the interest came from isn't the most important thing.

One possibility for research on this subject would be to interview people about where they get their food, how much they spend, what they typically eat, but this would probably have some misleading results, especially since everyday activities tend to form into habits, which become implicit parts of behavior, and are not necessarily available to conscious probing. One way around this might be through more direct observation. For instance, I could go to open markets, supermarkets, food stands, and other calorie distribution points, and record prices (as they differ with respect to food content, amount processed, and location), advertising methods, etc., and what people are buying, what they are not buying, how much they are buying...

Another approach would be to contact expert and/or government and/or corporate sources about distribution and transportation, and policies about such things as pesticides, genetic modification, animal feed and farm practices, etc. (and I could also ask people for their opinions on all of these things).

Looking at maps would be another idea, since this could give information about how people are expected (by the city) to obtain food, in the number and types of markets in neighborhoods, for instance.

I could also ask how people obtain information about their food. What do packages say? How helpful and informative are vendors and market employees?

Whatever my research plans are, I have a feeling that what will give me the best lead about how to find relevant information will be living in Amsterdam and buying food myself. I might be able to better afford the time necessary to do this if I arrive early.

Or I could apply the Lynch-Rivkin method and follow consenting shoppers, recording their observations and thoughts about their shopping experience (or their experience with whatever alternative food-obtaining means they might employ). Finally, back to Zeisel, traces: garbage.

Some other topics that came up (that I'm interested in), which might be approached totally separately, or might be related back to food, are environmental issues and environmentalism in Amsterdam, homelessness (where do homeless people get their food?), and squatting (similar question).

One of the problems with trying to devise a question about Amsterdam without actually being or having been there is that I can't help but picture it as an amalgamation of places where I have been, so my questions and research method ideas are going to reflect that, and will probably be more relevant to Seattle than to Amsterdam. Hopefully, this next assignment will help me get a clearer picture of what Amsterdam is really like, and then I can start asking better questions, and thinking of other ways to try to answer them.

Submission, Fitna, and some Parentheses

Fitna and Submission are both films that appeal to emotion more than reason, but they do so with different emphases, and even different intentions.

Submission, as the more personal of the two, appeals more to the compassion of individuals. As a device for drawing attention to a particular issue, and generating sympathy for a particular understanding of that issue, it is effective. It doesn’t help me form an educated opinion on the issue, but that’s not its purpose.

Fitna has a wider scope, portraying Islam not just as a source of internal oppression, but as one of global violence, intolerance, and totalitarianism. Yet its facts are extremely sparse, and most of its scenes are devoid of context, so that what it amounts to is a series of antagonizing images. The first five sixths of the film has no rational argument, but in going way beyond the personal narrative of Submission, its suggestion is much stronger. Projected onto the pages of a Quran, the scenes, though they have already taken place, have the strange appearance of a dystopian prophecy—and of course they are meant to. But in order to be more than an emotional suggestion, Fitna needs to cite sources. Again, this isn’t really the point, but it does mean that the film should fail to convince many who are not already sympathetic; its main effect should be to increase the fervor of those who are.

Fitna, along with Afshin Ellian (MIA, p. 25), claim that Islam is a problem because it advocates intolerance and violence where Western laws require tolerance and freedom of expression, and Islam trumps Western law for many who believe in it. Muslims should not be allowed to live in Western Europe unless they recognize the same laws as other citizens. This is a compelling argument—that Islam and Law are mutually exclusive—but the focus is misguided. The laws have been rejected, revised, and have evolved continually over the centuries. Therefore, if an ideology is in conflict with them, it does not immediately make the ideology problematic. The Enlightenment, for instance, was one such conflicting ideology.

Is there a difference between the Enlightenment and Islam? Or does the legitimacy of one simply come from its popularity? Obviously, I don’t believe that the two are equal, but to say that one is better than the other means that I must believe in some universal set of values against which I can judge them. I know I’m not supposed to use this kind of disclaimer, but I want to acknowledge before I go back to taking my ideological bias for granted that I believe that at a low enough level it’s impossible to make a rational argument for one universal belief over another. That is, any “inherent” benefits that Enlightenment philosophy has over fundamentalist Islam can only be expressed in self-referential terms, and vice versa (unless you go to a really low level, like atoms and photons, in which case value is sort of hard to assign at all). At some point, then, the choice is a matter of preference—and often a pragmatic one. Having said that, I will assert that tolerance is better than intolerance, and peace is better than violence, and, therefore, the laws that uphold these values should take precedence over Islam or any other (possibly conflicting) religion.

But my point is that this is really a conflict of universal ideologies, not a conflict between religion and law. Actually, Buruma makes a similar argument, that the conflict “is not a straightforward clash between culture and universalism, but between two different versions of the universal, one radically secular, the other radically religious” (p. 32). This differentiation between culture and ideology is critical, because it is the only way to avoid the clash becoming a racist conflict. That is, if cultural tolerance is going to work in the face of this ideological confrontation (however much it continues to manifest itself in individuals), Enlightenment ideas must be thoroughly divorced from (and given preeminence over) the specificities of Western cultures, just as the Western conception of fundamentalist Islam must be separated from the Western view of the specificities of Muslim culture. How much of this separation will actually occur I don’t know, but I guess we could always take a survey.