Wednesday, February 5, 2020

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems within LIS


For if the knowledge systems that animate a culture are subjugated because they have been made invisible, called primitive or savage, one can easily be lulled into believing that the knowledge systems have been eliminated through an effective and uncompromising series of removals— removals from place, removals from people—all the while assuming a removal from meaning, and from animated being. In fact, though, these Indigenous knowledge systems are infinitely patient, assuming a posture of dormancy, waiting for the proper combination of events and agents to align and catalyze a dramatic and seemingly inexplicable change.[1]

In “Native America’s Twenty First Century Right to Know”[1] Allison Boucher Krebs reiterates and expands on Vine Deloria Jr’s 1978 speech about the right of Native peoples to “know the past, to know the traditional alternatives advocated by their ancestors, to know the specific experiences of their communities, and to know about the world that surrounds them.”[2] Both Krebs and Deloria recognize information and knowledge as crucial resources for the realization and safeguarding of Native Sovereignty and the general wellbeing of communities in the aftermath of colonial experiences that have disrupted Indigenous livelihoods, cultural practices and identities. As scholars such as Sandra Littletree and Cheryl Metoyer argue, Indigenous philosophy has much to contribute to the safeguarding of Native histories, knowledge traditions and sociocultural resources. It provides a more accurate, ontologically congruent and grounded framework for organizing, classifying, and cataloguing Indigenous knowledge and information. Yet, within Library and Information Studies (LIS) the role of Indigenous philosophy in knowledge organization remains an underexplored issue. Although a cohort of Indigenous scholars and their allies continue to work on expanding the field’s understanding of Indigenous issues, the dominant mode in the field tends to be rather limited. The primary focus remains on how to best incorporate materials about Indigenous people into Western knowledge organization and recordkeeping systems—there is little focus on what Indigenous philosophies can contribute to the field overall.[3]  


In this essay, I argue that the field of archival studies, and information studies more broadly, needs to more robustly engage with Indigenous philosophies, knowledge organization and archival frameworks as important sites of knowledge that have the potential to be transformative for the field. It is necessary that the discourse moves past its preoccupation on how to incorporate indigenous materials into Western knowledge organization frameworks. We need to have a more robust discussion and exploration of the possibilities of “Indigenous philosophy as the structure for organizing information.”[4] A primary way to realize this may be to more robustly support existing and encourage ongoing investigations into Indigenous knowledge organization and recordkeeping systems in various contexts.  It is my hypothesis that this will be fruitful for positively rethinking dominant values, principles, and practices within the field. Ultimately, as Krebs argues, this is a matter of preventing deliberate cultural genocide of Native philosophies as well as decolonizing the field of LIS.

Libraries, Archives and Museums scholar Tyson Rinio writes that “all cultures need to store and retrieve information.”[5] This simple, yet radical statement speaks to the fact that Indigenous people the world over have mechanisms through which they record, preserve and share information—a fact that is usually overlooked or not fully recognized within the archival studies literature. Indeed, no human society—orally based or otherwise, can exist without a robust knowledge organization, memory and recordkeeping mechanism. However, this simple reality is obscured by the fact that prevailing Western understanding (including those within LIS) assumes that only societies with written texts keep records—a colonialist perspective that privileges the written text (a very recent invention) while silencing the existence of multiple modes of recordkeeping dating back thousands of years.[6] Part of what drives this assumption is the widely held belief that the written word is not only a superior form of communication and recordkeeping, but also an example of civilizational superiority.[7] This is partly what explains the marginalization of nonwestern, and nontextual histories and recordkeeping mechanisms—an issue that obviously impacts IS.

In “Creating Spaces for Indigenous Ontologies”[8] Marisa Elena Duarte and Miranda Belarde-Lewis explore the role of colonialism in the devaluing of Indigenous ontologies within the field of libraries, archives, and museums. Specifically, they pay attention to the ways in which racial prejudice seeps into and shapes the production of subject headings and classification systems. Far from being neutral processes, they argue that classification and cataloguing are imbued with power relations that determine who gets to decide what terms, and names are used to classify a people’s cultural and historical materials. In a glaring example, they remind us that the origin of the term “American Indian” is rooted in a practice dating back to the late 1500s, when Spanish colonial authorities incorrectly referred to Indigenous people as “Indians.” Along with the term Indian, terms such as ‘Native American’ ‘American Indian’ emanated originally, not from the people’s own designation of themselves, but from the power of colonial state authorities to name and classify a community as they saw fit. Such a power to name and classify a people means that the way Indigenous people conceptualize and live out their own identities, affiliations and philosophies is flattened and obscured. Within LIS, this ontological flattening has a huge consequence as it not only contributes to the erasure of Indigenous self-conceptualization, but it also encourages continuing development of knowledge based on colonial, biased, imprecise, and sometimes outright incorrect/inaccurate information about entire communities.

Duarte and Belarde-Lewis pose an important question for the field of LIS, asking “how do we create new spaces for Indigenous ontologies to emerge?”[9] Using the example of the Mashantucket Pequot Thesaurus of American Indian Terminology Project, Littletree and Metoyer provide an answer by way of demonstrating both the limitations of Western knowledge organization frameworks and also the contribution of Indigenous philosophy to altering dominant modes of description, cataloguing and classification to create more nuanced, specific and culturally grounded information systems. As an example of Indigenous-based knowledge organization, the Mashantucket Pequot Thesaurus seeks to address the silences, confusions and erasures that are created when non-Indigenous vocabularies and models are employed to describe Indigenous relationships, peoples and objects within the field of LIS. It is an illustration of the rich possibilities offered when we look outside dominant paradigms of information organization.





[1] Krebs, Native America’s twenty-first century right to know.
[2]  Krebs, p. 173.  
[3] Kelvin White, Shilpa Rele, Yang Lu, Sue McKemmish, Anne Gilliland, and Andrew Lau. "Pluralizing the Archival Paradigm Through Education: critical discussions around the Pacific Rim." Archives and Manuscripts 35, no. 2 (2007).
[4] Sandra Littletree and Cheryl A. Metoyer. "Knowledge organization from an indigenous perspective: The Mashantucket Pequot thesaurus of American Indian terminology project." Cataloging & Classification Quarterly 53, no. 5-6 (2015): 640-657: 641.
[5] Tyson S. Rinio. "Cultural Relevance in Tribal Libraries." Indigenous Notions of Ownership and Libraries, Archives and Museums 166 (2016): 181: p. 182.
[6] Fiona Ross, Sue McKemmish, and Shannon Faulkhead. "Indigenous knowledge and the archives: designing trusted archival systems for Koorie communities." Archives and Manuscripts 34, no. 2 (2006): 112.
[7] Linda Tuhiwai Smith. Decolonizing methodologies: Research and indigenous peoples. Zed Books Ltd. 2013.
[8] Marisa E Duarte and Miranda Belarde-Lewis. "Imagining: creating spaces for indigenous ontologies." Cataloging & Classification Quarterly 53, no. 5-6 (2015): 677-702.
[9] Duarte & Belarde-Lewis, Creating Spaces for Indigenous Ontologies: 686.




[1] Allison B Krebs. "Native America’s twenty-first-century right to know," Archival Science 12, no. 2 (2012): 186.

Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Asymmetric Gaze and the Digital Panopticon | Seul Lee


In his book, Seeing Like a State, Scott (1998) [1] questions why states have always been rankled by wanderers (e.g. nomads, gypsies, homeless people, and serfs). His answer to this question is the legibility and simplification of society. Specifically, such people are often seen as failures in a state’s attempt to make a legible society that can be managed through simplifying the classic state functions (e.g. taxation, conscription, and prevention of rebellion) (Scott, 1998) [1]. Making a society legible and simple was an essential way for statecraft, a so-called “art of governing”, that ensure a comprehensive but detailed view of a nation and its people, and this tool has often been used to refashion society and its people (Scott, 1998) [1].  


The way a state uses “a standard grid”, whereby it could be centrally recorded and monitored, seems very similar to both Jeremy Bentham’s “Panopticon” (1798) [2] and Foucault’s disciplinary power. First, in Bentham’s Panopticon, knowledge is made from the asymmetric gaze, and as Foucault (1977) [3] said, knowledge always links to power. Foucault (1980) [4] mentions that, in order to exercise power, knowledge is needed. In other words, the use of knowledge engenders power. This power relation that is gained from the asymmetric gaze is well represented in the Panopticon. The Panopticon is a prison that is designed to allow all prisoners to be watched by a single inspector from the center of the prison (Bentham, 2008) [5]. The asymmetric gaze between prisoners and inspectors shows how this imbalanced visual surveillance causes the prisoners to be uncertain whether they are being watched or not. As a method of surveillance, this uncertainty can be used to control prisoners by training them to discipline themselves.


Secondly, how does discipline operate as a means of surveillance and control over individuals? Foucault (1979) [6] argues that modern people became both an object and a subject of knowledge, by putting themselves into the metrics of ‘scientific-disciplinary mechanisms’, a moral/legal/psychological/medical/sexual being carefully fabricated. Individuals are incited to follow a specific standard set forth by a form of authority. According to social discipline, individuals are subordinates to the system that is strategically deployed to make their activities legible. This system allows an authority to control people with ease and comfortably handle administrative work by standardizing and generalizing peoples’ behavioral patterns. Individuals always perform under possible surveillance, and are evaluated (measured).


That is where the Foucault idea of normalizing power comes in (Gijsbers, 2017) [7]. This power is exercised routinely, eventually allowing individuals to voluntarily join the social systems to make themselves useful and live as ordinary and normal citizens (Gijsbers, 2017) [7]. This raises questions such as how normalcy is defined and who falls into this category. Who will decide whether an individual is normal or abnormal? What we believe as the norm is often determined by an authority with power. According to Rose (1998) [8], individuals are unconsciously incited to define themselves as if we are selves and selves of a particular type in politics, in work, in domestic arrangements, in consumption and marketing, in the arts and media, in medicine and health, in “lifestyle,” and in all of the diverse forms and applications of psychological technologies. Of course, being a subject in a system means to be subjected to the system that is subordinated in certain power.


However, according to Foucault (1998) [9], power is not wielded by people or groups by way of 'episodic' or 'sovereign' acts of domination or coercion. Instead, it is dispersed and pervasive, and exercised in a variety of institutions (e.g. prisons, schools, hospitals, or militaries). Today, there are a number of digital panopticons that are designed to surreptitiously make individuals visible to the watchmen in the center of the systems. The algorithms for Facebook and Airbnb are invisible to us, but are visible to them. After all, this is about how power and knowledge function to control individuals in the interests of values that are desirable for certain power. Thus, the important thing is being aware of embedded power in knowledge and systems, and asking in what relationship we live with the technologies that watch us (Bossewich and Sinnreich, 2014) [10].

In particular, as a researcher in Library and Information Studies, our fields are susceptible to the power generated from knowledge. But, at the same time, it can be an important place to make a balance and distribute better knowledge to let individuals know about inherent power networks. Adler (2012) [11] specified the concept of disciplining knowledge to The Library of Congress, a federal institution that occupies a critical space where diverse discourses are collected, arranged, and disseminated to Congress and the public. She (2012) [11] points out the fact that certain discourses are actively reproduced while others are put to silence by casting light on the implications of the relationship libraries carry with power and knowledge. According to her (2012) [11], library classifications are in the business of producing and reproducing disciplinary norms within the academy, as well as social deviance more generally in society. Halberstam (2011) [12] mentions that the situating of knowledge on library shelves is a form of disciplining. As Foucault (1997) [13] advised, we need to examine discursive practices that affect knowledge and power production. By examining the limitations of past disciplined approaches, it is necessary to design a system that benefits more individuals. 

References
[1] Scott, James C. (1998). Seeing like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed. New Haven and London: Yale University Press.
[2] Bentham, J. (1798). Proposal for a New and Less Expensive mode of Employing and Reforming Convicts. London, quoted in Evans, R. (1982). The Fabrication of Virtue: English Prison Architecture. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[3] Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and Punishment. London: Tavistock.
[4] Foucault, M. (1980). Truth and Power. In C. Gordon (Eds.) Power/knowledge, selected interviews and writings 1972-1977. Hemel Hempstead: Harvester Wheatsheaf.
[5] Bentham, J. (2008). Panopticon, or, the Inspection-House. England: Dodo Press
[6] Foucault, M. (1979). Discipline and Punish: the Birth of the Prison. England: Penguin.
[7] Gijsbers, V. (2017, October 19). Chapter 2.5: Michel Foucault, power [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keLnKbmrW5g
[8] Rose, N. (1998). Inventing our selves: Psychology, power, and personhood. New York: Cambridge University Press.
[9] Foucault, M. (1998). The History of Sexuality: The Will to Knowledge. London: Penguin.
[10] Bossewitch, J., & Sinnreich, A. (2012). The end of forgetting: Strategic agency beyond the panopticon. New Media & Society, vol. 15, no. 2. doi:10.1177/1461444812451565.
[11] Adler, Melissa A. (2012). Disciplining Knowledge at the Library of Congress. KNOWLEDGE ORGANIZATION, vol. 39, no. 5. doi:10.5771/0943-7444-2012-5-370.
[12] Halberstam, J. (2011). The queer art of failure. Durham and N.C.: Duke University Press.
[13] Foucault, M. (1997). Essential works of Foucault. In R. Paul (Eds.) Ethics: subjectivity and truth, 1954-1984. England: Penguin.
[14] McMullan, T. (2015). What Does the Panopticon Mean in the Age of Digital Surveillance?. The Guardian. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2015/jul/23/panopticon-digital-surveillance-jeremy-bentham.

Saturday, February 1, 2020

Classification as System of Discipline and Punishment: a Mereological Analysis of the Antiquity/(Post)Modernity Dichotomy | Pietro Santachiara

Embodiment of days gone by, Hanging Not Punishment Enough[1] expressed a sentiment that closely followed the abolition of spectacular, public executions whereby offenders would undergo slow, gruesome torture as an entrée to death. These highly ritualized ceremonies prescribed detailed steps based on symbolisms, typically starting from relatively non-invasive procedures like supporting a heavy burning candle and gradually escalating to the tearing of flesh, severing of extremities, disembowelment and dismemberment, regularly interjected with rest periods to ensure the victim would be conscious for the next step.
The advocacy of punishment by a “thousand deaths”[2] as the only righteous way for the serving of justice would nowadays largely be unsupported and undoubtedly frowned upon. Yet, though difficult it might be for a contemporary civilization to fathom such longing for abominable acts, the transition from ancient public punishment to a modern form of it was indeed painful to accept for some members of the public.
Foucault illustrates how the advent of modernity both affected and was affected by changes in punishment practices; gradually, bodies became instrumentalized, sacrificed, as it were, on the altar of control, through the prescription of disciplines – “formulas of domination, […] an art of the human body […] which was directed not only at the growth of its skills, nor at the intensification of its subjection, but at the formation of a relation that in the mechanism itself makes it more obedient as it becomes more useful, and conversely. […] a policy of coercions that act upon the body [and] produces subjected and practised bodies, ‘docile’ bodies.”[3]
Undoubtedly, “from art of unbearable sensations, punishment has become an economy of suspended rights,”[4] but more importantly, it also ceased to be overtly explicit by virtue of its violent and public nature, and became covertly subtle, hidden, silent. While in antiquity the gruesomeness of the punishment reflected that of the crime it was meant to address, thus bringing the connection between the two to the fore, the modern approach to punishment manifests, both directly and indirectly, a sense of guilt towards it, “the execution itself […] like an additional shame that justice is ashamed to impose on the condemned man.”[5] In short, discomfort has ostensibly acted as catalyst for the trading of the slow ‘thousand deaths’ sentence for even longer, perennial control, and has consequently extended the repentance paradigm to the multitude while furthering the reach of authority by protecting the sensibility of the elite in charge of judgement.
Indeed, modernity is the period in which prisons become penitentiaries, and hospitals and labour appear as part and parcel of detainment, effectively marking the beginning of the aforementioned constant, endless and indefinite paradigm of surveillance. In this context, the “new punishment [is] intended to correct, reclaim, ‘cure’” and pursues “disciplinary penality […] on the basis of the two opposed values of good and evil […] instead of the simple division of the prohibition”[6] – a paradigm shift that becomes further characterized when considering both the translation of Foucault’s work from French, and the Latin origin of penitentiary, paenitentia, largely meaning repentance and semantically neighbouring concepts like penitence and remorse. The values underlying judgement become rooted in ideas of moral superiority, and consequently power, control of otherness, expressed through methods reflecting monastic practices.
Classification is ruled by similar dynamics, as those in positions of power reproduce both their own supremacy and biases by keeping the other at a distance through categorization; it is a way of imposing power through knowledge, and knowledge through power,[7] while claiming to possess the “God’s Eye view”[8] of the natural world.  For Foucault, as they relate to the organization of “‘cells’, ‘places’ and ‘ranks’, the disciplines create complex spaces that are at once architectural, functional and hierarchical […] and indicate values. […] a question of organizing the multiple, of providing oneself with an instrument to cover it and to master it; […] a question of imposing upon it an ‘order’.”[9] In other words, classification expresses a ‘view of the world’ which reflects the perceptions, judgements, beliefs and biases of its authors, and leverages their societal position to apply definitions to and discipline the multitude.
Because of their interest in analysing the evolution of discipline and punishment, within their analysis of the antiquity/modernity dichotomy, Foucault characterizes it only briefly in terms of few-to-multitude. This paper argues that by expanding that logic and analysing the dichotomy through the lens of mereology[10], and by consequently extending such approach to the realm of classification, further insight concerning the relationship between antiquity and modernity can be identified, particularly by also applying to it criteria of visibility (visible/opaque) and attachment (personal/detached) (Fig. 1).
While describing the consequences brought on by the concept and reality of the panopticon, the author illustrates how, on one hand, antiquity’s problem was “‘to render accessible to a multitude of men the inspection of a small number of objects’” while on the other hand, modernity’s problem is “‘to procure for a small number […] the instantaneous view of a great multitude.’”[11] When evaluated within the circumstances of discipline and punishment, this analysis readily illustrates the juxtaposition of a “civilization of spectacle” in which the criminal was routinely punished publicly, and one of “expiation of evil-doing”[12] in which a relatively small group of judges discipline society. Discipline and punishment were made visible and personal in antiquity, opaque and detached in modernity.
A less linear pattern appears to rule the evolution of classification throughout history. In antiquity, a small group of people in privileged positions concentrated on classifying the minutia to, in turn, conquer the general: “every detail is important since, in the sight of God, no immensity is greater than a detail, nor is anything so small that it was not willed by one of his individual wishes.”[13] Concentration on the specimen generated overarching rules of classification to be applied to the population. Conversely, in modernity, and postmodernity especially, efficiency appears to be the only consistent force underpinning a remarkable polarization in classification practices. While the “exceptional discipline”[14]that characterized classification in antiquity consistently continues to rule classification at large by virtue of the resulting paradigms persisting through time, indeed a multitude of actor types, interests and targets are now at play: summarily, a) the individual concentrates on other individuals, multitude and natural world at once, e.g. mass media, social media, general opinion, political polls, climate trends, big data science; b) relatively small groups with highly concentrated interests focus on large numbers of individuals on the unit level as well as on generalized behaviour, e.g. advertising, tech and media companies, increasingly through the employment of semi-autonomous agents which extend classifications and recommendations of taste and behaviour. In this sense, big data and machine learning practices embody the continuation of the established classification paradigm – a new, efficient modality and application of discipline, in which categories can readily be extrapolated from and applied to raw data. Classification criteria were visible and personal in antiquity, opaque and detached in modernity.
The present version of this paper, admittedly, raises more questions than it answers. What it attempts to provide is additional insight into the societal changes the transition from antiquity to modernity has brought on, as well as additional ground upon which further explorations of the theme may take place. By standing on the shoulders of giants, it attempts to characterize the transition Western society negotiated away from morbid acts and qualities, and in favour of new, less overtly violent practices – from torture of the body to torture of the spirit.
The main question that is left unanswered is whether it was all worth it: after all, the abandonment of the ‘thousand deaths’ model paved the way for classification practices that lead to discretionary definitions which ended up underlying juxtapositions of Aryans to non-Aryans in Europe; Whites to Blacks to Coloureds to Indians in South Africa; Ottomans to Armenians; northerners to southerners; rich to poor; young to old; native to foreigner – to name a few; in other words, criteria that define arbitrary groups of people as adversarial. Are those demarcations, and the consequences they lead to, responsible for anything more dignified than the ‘thousand deaths’ approach?


Fig. 1


[1] Anon. Hanging Not Punishment Enough. London, England, 1701.
http://www.earlymodernweb.org.uk/waleslaw/hanging.htm.
[2] Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish. New York City, NY, USA: Pantheon Books, 1975.
[3] Ibid
[4] Ibid
[5] Ibid
[6] Ibid
[7] Said, Edward W. Orientalism. New York City, NY, USA: Vintage Books, 1979.
[8] Adler, Melissa. “Disciplining Knowledge at the Library of Congress.” Knowledge Organization 5, no. 39.
[9] Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish. New York City, NY, USA: Pantheon Books, 1975.
[10] The philosophical theory of part-to-whole relations
[11] Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish. New York City, NY, USA: Pantheon Books, 1975.
[12] Ibid
[13] Ibid
[14] Ibid