Matt Kiem

 

The late 2000s was a period of tremendous growth and achievement for proponents of social innovation.[1] With the proliferation of research centers, think tanks and journals, the establishment of the Office of Social Innovation and Civic Participation in the United States, the adoption of social innovation terminology in the UK government’s Big Society agenda, and ringing endorsements by the President of the European Commission, social innovation has become an established policy doctrine. Amidst these developments many designers attempted to claim that design has a legitimate role in social innovation, moves that were met with varying degrees of enthusiasm from commentators on both design and social innovation.[2] In the context of the serious challenges of unsustainability and social inequity, the response of the design field to the apparent hope and possibility offered by social innovation warrants at least some a degree of critical examination. Yet relative to the volume published on the topic of social innovation there is a surprising dearth of critical literature, particularly regarding the role of design.

    In response to these observations I will use this paper to examine two questions: 1) What is the relation between design and the concept of the social?  and 2) What are the possible political implications of design for social innovation? The first question will be addressed through a selective survey of theoretical positions relevant to the social role of design. This will lead into a more focused examination of the results of the EMUDE (Emerging user demands) project, one of the most valuable research projects on design for social innovation published so far, in order to develop a provisional critique of the political function of design for social innovation vis á vis its ability to instigate discontinuous social change in the interest of sustainability.


Revisiting the social significance of design

What relation does design(ing) have to the concept of the social? Precedents for thinking about artefactual production, mediation, and consumption in social terms are numerous, rich and complex, and would be difficult to adequately survey in a single paper.[3] The more modest objective here is to derive some conclusions to this question by comparing a selection of recent work in social theory and philosophy.

    A valuable starting point for returning to the question of design and the social is Clive Dilnot’s Design as a socially significant activity[4] which argued for design to be recognised as a distinct form of activity with significance beyond the simple production of material things. According to Dilnot, design can be distinguished as a particular way of thinking and communicating that is concerned with giving form to the materiality of a human world. Dilnot stresses that the concept of form not only refers to the design of particular commodified objects but should also be understood in terms of the ordering of an entire socio-technical mode of being. He adds that this conscious ordering of the material world towards human ends is an essential part of our praxiological being.[5]  The consequence of this claim is that we are only what we are as a certain kind of being by means of what and how we give form to, organise, and draw significance from the things that constitute our everyday environment. This point signals that design is never simply a means to a productive end but is in fact a much more complex activity with fundamental implications for human ontology.[6] Because designing involves synthesising the many complex and heterogeneous characteristics of a situation into a concrete form, design can also be seen as the activity that makes it possible for form to express or embody the character of a particular relation between people and things and the very means by which things are able to have an effect within such a relation.[7] Dilnot’s account therefore provides grounding for the claim that design must be considered in social terms, and conversely that any discussion of sociality ought to take into account the effect of design.

    While Dilnot was centrally concerned with design activity, his point concerning design’s social relevance can also be connected to developments in the fields of social theory and philosophy. For instance, in his overview of the field of social theory Andreas Reckwitz proposed that modern social theory has produced three distinctive ways of explaining human action and social order: the utilitarian homo economicus, the norm-orientated homo sociologicus, and the 20th century ‘cultural theories’.[8] Each of these approaches represents a different conception of the social, respectively: as an aggregate product of decisions made by rational individuals, as a consensus of norms, and as connected to the symbolic and cognitive structures of knowledge. This third approach is where Reckwitz positions practice theory (as exemplified in the work of Pierre Bourdieu, Anthony Giddens, Michel Foucault, Judith Butler, Harold Garfinkel, Bruno Latour, and Theodore Schatzki) alongside mentalist (the social is in the head), textualist (the social is in the text), and inter-subjectivist (the social is in the interaction between subjects) theories. In contrast to utilitarian, normative, and other cultural theories, practice theory locates the social within practices, thereby positing the practice as the most minimal social ‘unit’. A practice in short can be understood as a routinised set of activities that involve relevant bodily dispositions, mental habits and concepts, and a certain assemblage of things put to use in a manner that is particular to that practice. Importantly, these are necessary and irreducible conditions for a practice. There is no practice and therefore no form of sociality that does not contain conditioned bodies, minds, or (designed) artefacts. By demonstrating the role of artefacts within practices Reckwitz provides a useful account of the necessary role of design in forming sociality.

    The relevance of practice theory to design is evident in the work of Elizabeth Shove. In her historical and ethnographic studies of everyday practices Shove provides rich accounts of how affective, conceptual, habitual, material, and symbolic elements are entwined in daily activities.[9] Showering, for instance, a cleaning practice that may be part of a daily routine or more occasional ritual, is as much dependent upon feelings of cleanliness and conceptions of health and hygiene as it is modern bathrooms, fixtures, plumbing, soaps, shampoos, razors, mirrors, lighting, towels, packaging, toothbrushes, hair-straighteners, perfumes, etc. The body/mind/thing assemblages of modern showering practices are distinctly different from other historical practices of cleaning such as public baths of ancient Rome or the infrequent bathing of medieval times. As such, each context represents a different (social) world that is conditioned by spaces, images, clothing, and cleaning equipment.

    Shove’s studies are a valuable demonstration of the necessary role that designed things play within the structure of practices. Artefacts are therefore just as important in understanding sociality as language or consciousness. Furthermore, Shove’s work also provides a way of explaining the limits of either economic or moral appeals to ‘be more sustainable’. People are always already embedded, invested in, and carried along by their material contexts to the extent that externally imposed forms of reasoning often represent a weak means of instigating change. This is not to suggest that people do not respond to economic arguments or are impervious to moral appeal. Rather, it recognises that people are also participants in larger socio-technical assemblages that enforce prudential and pragmatic reasons for acting in a certain way.[10]  Furthermore, against other forms of cultural theory, practice theory demonstrates that the inertia and resilience of practices is a product of the dispersed and interconnected nature of agency. Sociality includes more than mental phenomenon because there are also bodies and things that have already been conditioned or designed to (re)act in a certain way. It also includes more than semiotic ‘texts’ because while a practice must include language, signs, readings, interpretation etc. it is not solely reducible to textual phenomenon. Finally, the ontology of sociality is more than direct intersubjectivity because the interaction of subjects is mediated, orientated, and conditioned by non-subjective things. Additionally, the non-subjective relation of things, their inter-objectivity or inter-thinglyness also conditions what is easy, hard, desirable, or necessary within any socio-technical context – consider for instance the relationship of: freezer, frozen meals, and microwave oven; car to highway; or graphic-user-interface to computer.

    The idea of inter-objectivity connects with the view of sociality of actor-network theorists. In Reassembling the Social Bruno Latour directly outlines what actor-network theory means as a theory of the social.[11] Latour’s main target for attack in this text is Émile Durkheim’s concept of the social as a sui generis object, that is, as a distinct entity with its own kind of agency. Part of the reasoning that drives Latour’s critique is his belief that Durkheim failed to give proper account to the role of non-human actors within the formation of groups or assemblages. While previously Latour had been content to simply assert that non-human actors were a part of what held a society together[12] in Reassembling Latour extends this idea to claim that there is no sense in studying society as an object itself because the term ‘society’ does not refer to any real or identifiable entity and therefore cannot constitute an object that could be studied or that could produce its own effects. What Latour does allow for however, is that the objects (understood in terms as broad as institutions, machines, ideas, etc) that do constitute reality are formed through a multitude of dynamic groupings composed of associations between human and non-human actors. In this sense Latour argues that the term ‘social’ relates to the kinds of connections that link together actors that are otherwise not social into some form of assemblage.[13]

Given this position Latour’s idea for the proper role of sociology is not the study of a social object but rather the trails of complex associations that form objects. Researching the connections involved in the formation of entities provides a way of understanding the relational effect of systems, technologies, institutions and concepts alongside the efforts, strategies and achievements of people. Given that he includes non-human actors within the domain of social relations, Latour’s philosophy becomes particularly relevant to the question of how we understand the social significance of design. Because design is the practice that conditions material and expressive effects, and therefore the means by which connections are made, stabilised or dispersed, the act of designing becomes a crucial element in the formation and effect of assemblages.[14]

    What we learn from Dilnot, Reckwitz, Shove and Latour is that there are very good reasons to assert that design – as activity, form, things and objects – is crucial to understanding what sociality means and what influence it has on the way we live. To bring this conclusion back to the concept of social innovation, it is reasonable to suggest that because design is always involved in formation of social conditions, any novel social arrangement or any social innovation, must involve some element of design(ing). However, this is not necessarily a defense of the claims that professional designers and design theorists have made vis á vis the potential of design in/as social innovation. A distinction worth considering here is that while we might say that sociality will always be something that is conditioned by design, it is quite another thing to imply that social innovation and design (as a professional practice and way of thinking) is currently capable of addressing, or even making sense of, contemporary issues of public concern. To further examine this issue we will turn to the second question of this paper: what are the possible political implications of design for social innovation?

 

The politics and power of design for social innovation

The accounts of the social offered above suggest that the ‘social’ of design for social innovation should be recognised as something already designed before it is approached as something in which a designer might intervene. Additionally, the experience of a situation by an actor can also be understood as a question of design. For instance, any ‘social’ context is always structured in a way that influences what can be seen, said, and imagined. Design also affects the condition of social position and position-taking, a question of being set and setting oneself in relation to others through engagement with people, symbols, things, etc.[15] Therefore design for social innovation would always entail designing with/for/against/and amidst the dynamic of what has already been designed. This implies that design(ed) ‘problems’, ‘social’ or otherwise, are constituted by a plurality of design(ed) interests and possibilities, some of which are dominant relative to others, and some of which may not necessarily be commensurable or desirable. To set this in relation to the issue of sustainability, this picture of contested plurality implies that the act of designing should take into account the need to differentiate between conditions that curtail futures and those that extend human time. The following examination into the politics of design for social innovation is therefore orientated by the question of how useful design for social innovation is as a strategy for displacing the established and unsustainable social relations that we currently have with forms that can develop the ability to sustain.

    The attention that designers have given to social innovation or social design manifests in ways that range from largely techno-centric efforts to address ‘social problems’ (through new or improved products designed to assist disadvantaged user groups) to ways of engaging with communities or clients of social services to develop more effective ways of meeting their needs. Moving beyond these cases of new roles for professional design within the ‘social’ field, the recent work that Ezio Manzini has been associated with represents an interesting case in which the discourse of social innovation has been adapted for use within design. Manzini’s research agenda is driven by his conviction that unsustainability requires an approach to development that can instigate change that is structurally discontinuous with the status quo, rather than proceeding as a process of incremental improvement. Manzini argues for a shift from a socio-technical system that attends to well-being through the acquisition of many products per person to a system that is able to attend to the well-being of many people through the provision of services, ownership practices, and other social arrangements that drastically reduce the overall throughput of material products. The research that Manzini and others have published on social innovation, including the current DESIS project and the previous EMUDE (Emerging user demands) study, is significant in terms of what it reveals about the ability of non-professional designers to take responsibility for rearranging their own socio-technical environments. In terms of the questions I am trying to address in this paper EMUDE also represents a useful case study in the deployment of social innovation as a means to instigate radical discontinuity in the interest of sustainment.

    EMUDE was a research project designed to test the hypothesis that some cases of social innovation represent promising moves towards environmental and social sustainability.[16] Coordinated across eight European universities, EMUDE documented 56 significant cases in which small groups had organised novel and effective ways of dealing with a diverse range of everyday problems, including childcare, care for the elderly, access to locally produced food, alternative transport, new forms of housing, and other ways of using shared facilities and services. These case studies demonstrated what was proposed as a new form of creativity – non-specialised diffused creativity, which was key to the development of diffused social enterprise.[17] These findings were also discussed in relation to various European policy agendas, including strategies for reducing the cost of state welfare, addressing social marginalisation, transitioning towards knowledge based economies, and decoupling economic growth from environmental impact.

    EMUDE represents a distinctive and important break with several conventions of design research for sustainability, including the way it displaces the technical product and the professional designer as agents of change, favouring instead the ability of the non-professionals to reorganise their everyday social relations (which in a Latourian sense must encompass a relation to designed artefacts). However, it can be argued that EMUDE is limited by its more conventional and conservative characteristics, namely, an apparent aversion to questions of power. For instance, in discussing the political implications of diffuse creativity, political change is framed in terms of technical questions of good governance. The limitation of this position has been highlighted by Erik Swyngedouw. Using Antonio Gramsci’s theory of state/market/civil society interdependency Swyngedouw frames social innovation in more antagonistic terms:

 

The socially innovative figures of horizontally organised stakeholder arrangements of governance that appear to empower civil society in the face of an apparently overcrowded and ‘excessive’ state, may, in the end, prove to be the Trojan Horse that diffuses and consolidates the ‘market’ as the principle institutional form.[19]

 

    As Swyngedouw acknowledges, this concept of the misrecognised power-political function of civil society was also a key theme in Michel Foucault’s studies on biopolitics. For instance, in his lecture series The Birth of Biopolitics Foucault lays out his history of the development of twentieth century liberalism, including its effect on social ordering and the peculiar role of civil society within this order.[20]  In his description of liberalism Foucault includes attitudes, practices, methods and procedures of measuring and enforcing the proper intervention of governmental action. To this we might add the engineering, technologies, networks and devices that extended the liberal form of indirect social control.[21]  Foucault emphasises that the principle of social regulation pursued within liberal doctrine was not concerned with facilitating the exchange of commodities as such but rather protecting and enhancing competitive enterprise as a mechanism for development.[22] Within liberalism, the provision of welfare in the form of social benefits is a perfectly reasonable practice on the strict condition that it does not equate to a form of collective, redistributive or socialist consumption, and that it addresses the symptoms of absolute poverty only and not any cause that coincides with the ideal conditions for competition.[23]< Furthermore, according to Foucault the formation of civil society under liberalism is conditioned by its usefulness as a technique for resolving tensions between the economical and juridical roles of government, as well as a space to engage in shaping daily practices such as health and education.[24]

    The mechanisms of control that Foucault observed within liberalism were closely related to his concept of power. Foucault argued that it is a mistake to limit the concept of power to the question of sovereignty, restriction or oppression. Rather he claimed that power is diffuse, material, and productive, and consequently may just as easily be experienced as a form of choice, truth, need, or wealth .[25] Control within a liberal political order therefore can be seen to operate through stimulating experiences as much as in any authoritarian form of repression. This description has parallels with Slavoj Žižek’s ideological explication of the injunction ‘enjoy!’ – free consumption without an externally enforced prohibition not only authorises solicitation into unsustainable consumption but may also produce a more fastidious and politically debilitating form of self-regulation.[26] This suggests that power antagonisms and techniques of subliminal (ideological) and explicit (police, welfare, social services) control are always constitutive elements within any social relation. As such, the reluctance of social design literature to acknowledge these factors, or, as is the case in EMUDE, to limit discussion to a question of technique – as the efficiency and effectiveness of governance – elides the question of how power itself is materially and symbolically organised and what kind of effects and forms it produces.

 

An introduction into the politics of design for social innovation

An issue that follows from the elision of power in EMUDE is the possibility of imagining a form of action that may be critical for instigating discontinuous change (change that displaces an established structural order for something new), namely, the possibility of political action. As was the case with sociality, politics is yet another complex concept that demands more sophisticated treatment than can be given here. For our purposes though it will be useful to examine some of the consequences of Hannah Arendt’s distinction between the social and the political.

    For Arendt, social concerns were synonymous with the classical Greek idea of economics.[27]  In ancient Greece, economics referred to the management of material necessity that occurred within the space of the private household. Economics represented a condition of constraint, of base biological processes common to all organic life, and was diametrically opposed to the experience of freedom. The modern idea of the social has affinities with the economic because it implies the reduction of human experience to the form of homogeneous necessity, as in the scientific view of the (singular) human exemplified in universalist models such as Mazlo’s hierarchy of needs. Politics however referred to the idea of a coexistence between ontologically different (human) beings that was given definition through the action of individuals in a public space (polis). For Arendt the risky practice of negotiating commonality in difference between free individuals was the condition of an active worldly existence, that is, a world that felt as through it could be re-birthed as something radically different from what it was at the time. However this form of action was only possible if there was a space within which action could be experienced. The space required for defining a world in common was only possible through the designation of a space between free plural beings, an idea that was difficult to imagine if the meaning of existence and politics was reduced to an issue of life’s necessities. A politics that was practiced to ensure freedom rather than life, and that was practiced on condition of a willingness to sacrifice life for freedom, represented a mode of human existence that was radically opposed to economics. Arendt’s concern with the modern world was that the social experience had eclipsed the political experience; that economics, the language of necessity, had become the sole measure of human experience. For Arendt, this was the image of the desert-world, a politically barren world populated by riskless escapism and pseudo-activity.[28]

    Even with this brief description we can observe a resemblance between Arendt’s conception of politics, Foucault’s description of the dispersed nature of liberal control, and the elision of power within the EMUDE that calls into question the ability of social innovation to disrupt the continuity of our current situation. Despite the value of the EMUDE approach to understanding sociality and design, the tacit politics of the project appears to be (neo)liberal, both in the character of the economic rationale and the associated reduction of politics to state (economic) management. With its emphasis on diffuse enterprise, active welfare, and interest in the livelihood of stakeholders, the language of the EMUDE findings are remarkably close to much of what Foucault describes as the liberal form of social discipline. This affinity is problematic considering that it is a characteristic of liberalism to tolerate change only in so far as it does not threaten forms of social organisation that protect its fundamental economic interests.[29]  The identification of diffused social innovation supports the notion that self-initiated change is possible for people who can (or must) make their own opportunities, but it does not suggest an explicit challenge to a governmentality driven by a productivist agenda. Therefore, because it is concerned with changing the provisions of daily life within (rather than beyond) the strictures of (a)political practices, even an approach as progressive as EMUDE still remains allied to the structural conditions that maintain hegemonic unsustainability.

    As an example of design for social innovation, the amenability of EMUDE towards resolving problems within (not against) liberalism, and the reluctance to imagine alternative practices of organising (for) political power is a telling limitation vis á vis the need for discontinuous change. Some of the limitations that stem from not recognising power and politics as agencies within social relations include an inability to differentiate between who/what (as assemblages of individuals and artefacts) can act towards sustainable futures and who/what maintains the status quo, and an inability to work explicitly towards mobilising assemblages of sustainment against established orders. If this is indeed the case, then it is reasonable to suggest that design for social innovation lacks the kind of political gravitas required to initiate a serious disruption to structural unsustainability.

    By drawing a relation between Foucault, Arendt, and the early conclusions that concern the relation of design to sociality, we can observe that design is important for understanding both sociality and politics. Because it gives form to power, conditions of control, and contested ways of living, the character of design practice is inherently political.[30] Ignoring the politics of design(ing) draws the risk of being orientated by default towards the maintenance of existing structural conditions. The suggestion we find in Arendt’s philosophy is that because humans only ever have sense of worldhood through their association with things and other people it should be expected that design has a role to play in developing political ontologies, including the kind of radical ontology that is able to recognise and mobilise against the unsustainable.

    An inference that follows from both this point and the critique of EMUDE offered above is that designers, researchers, theorists, and educators working within or in association with the field of social innovation must view their practice in terms of its political agency. To offer a sense of what this might mean I would draw a distinction between pragmatic social intervention and a praxiological politics. While the former may allow people to cope more easily with their everyday challenges, the socio-technical assemblages it forms would be politically heterogenous and open to manipulation. For instance, within a liberal political order a pragmatic social innovation may be useful for relieving the burden of state expenditure without threatening established power relations or economic interests. A praxiological politics on the other hand, would be concerned with consciously generating politically autonomous socio-technical assemblages that are antithetical to the unsustainable. These assemblages would need to be elastic enough to cope with change and crisis but resistant to political co-option. Designers in this sense, professional or not, may seek to engage at various levels with the political implications of space, visibility, time, labour, consumption, production, finance, exchange, and ownership. Designers might also take on the role of mediating between groups taking action, government institutions, and other significant actors.[31] Furthermore, designers could use their expertise to visualise, advocate and promote alternative social policies, development agendas, and importantly, new ways of practicing politics.


Conclusion

The objective of the paper was to register the need to examine the relation of design to sociality both as a question in itself and in relation to the politics of sustainability. The mainstreaming of social innovation discourse makes this a topical subject but beyond the immediacy of these developments there is an obvious need for the rigorous examination of the social significance of design. This agenda must be driven by the need to understand the kind of designing required in order to achieve social relations that are more sustainable and more equitable. As a contribution to this agenda I have argued that power and politics are significant blind spots in the theory of design for social innovation. Furthermore, I suggest that this oversight has the potential to limit the ability of actors to instigate discontinuous change in the interest of sustainability.

    Regarding social innovation itself, the idea of innovation not simply being a technical phenomenon is important to engage with as it signals that the sociality of things and people should be a matter of interest for designers and design researchers. As such I have also suggested that design should be considered within any approach to social innovation because designed artefacts are a necessary element of sociality. However, regarding the need for discontinuous change, a significant limitation in current approaches to design for social innovation is its political amenability. Rather than being a sign of success, the fact that social innovation has been so widely adopted as a legitimate development practice may indeed be a sign of its usefulness to established political orders. For those who recognise the need for discontinuous change this amenability suggests that social innovation is politically inert and therefore lacks the ability to galvanise action against structural unsustainability. Social innovation is evidently a useful way to produce valuable ‘social’ outcomes, but so long as it persists in trying to achieve its objectives via apolitical means its potential to instigate radical change will continue to be compromised.

 

 

Matthew Kiem is an independent researcher and writer who teaches design studies at University of Technology, Sydney: Insearch. His work focuses on issues in the theory and practice of design for sustainable futures. This paper has been developed with the assistance of Matthew Holt, Jessica Frazer, and members of the Sydney-based Project Otherwise group in association with the Urmadic University.

 



[1] Social innovation is understood as the development of novel social arrangements that meet everyday needs. Social innovation may include other forms of innovation but it is not necessarily driven or reliant upon technological change. For a useful overview of the social innovation literature see Jürgen Howaldt & Michael Schwarz. Social Innovation: Concepts, Research Fields and International Trends. Dortmund: International Monitoring. May 2010, p. 15. For other introductory definitions of social innovation see Geoff Mulgan, Social Innovation: What It Is, Why It Matters, and How It Can Be Accelerated. Skoll Center for Social Entrepreneurship. Working Paper, 2007. Available at http://www.youngfoundation.org/files/images/03_07_What_it_is__SAID_.pdf, and Frances Westley & Nino Antadze, ‘Making a difference: strategies for scaling social innovation for greater impact’, The Innovation Journal: The Public Sector Innovation Journal, Vol. 15(2), 2010

[2] See for instance Tim Brown & Jocelyn Wyatt, ‘Design Thinking for Social Innovation’, Stanford Social Innovation Review, Winter 2010, pp. 31-35. For popular commentary on these developments see Bruce Nussbaum, ‘Is humanitarian design the new imperialism’, Co.Design, www.fastcodesign.com, 7 July 2010, viewed 14/8/2010, Cameron Tonkinwise, ‘Politics please, we’re social designers’, Core77, www.core77.com, 1 September 2010, viewed 2/9/2010, and Kevin McCullagh, ‘Is it time to rethink the t-shaped designer’, Core77, www.core77.com, 24 September 2010

[3] This would include work by many significant thinkers in the traditions of philosophy, social, cultural and media theory, including Marx, Heidegger, the Frankfurt School, French theorists such as Lefebvre, Certeau, Bourdieu, Baudrillard and many others.

[4] Clive Dilnot, ‘Design as a socially significant activity: an introduction’. Design Studies 3: 2, 1982

[5] Dilnot, op cit., p. 145

[6] For another argument regarding this point see Anne-Marie Willis, ‘Ontological designing – laying the ground’. In A. Willis (Ed.), Design Philosophy Papers: Collection Three. Ravensbourne, Qld: Team D/E/S, 2007, pp. 80–98

[7] Included within the varieties of effect that a form may have is the experience of being out of joint with the dynamic of a situation. This may occur because of ‘bad’ or inappropriate design or because the situation itself has changed, as for instance when a previously ubiquitous object or practices become obsolete or anachronistic because of changes to technological infrastructures as was the case with food preservation, letter writing, typewriters, floppy disks, and analogue televisions.

[8] Andreas Reckwitz, ‘Toward a theory of social practices: a development in culturalist theorizing’. European Journal of Social Theory. 5: 243, 2002, p. 243–263

[9] For instance, Comfort, Cleanliness, and Convenience: The Social Organization of Normality. Oxford; New York: Berg, 2003, and The Design of Everyday Life. Oxford; New York: Berg, 2007

[10] For more on this point see Carleton Christensen, ‘The material basis of everyday rationality – transforming by design or education?’, in A. Willis (ed.), Design Philosophy Papers: Collection Three, Ravensbourne, Qld: Team D/E/S, 2007, pp. 40–53

[11] Bruno Latour, Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network-Theory. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005.

[12]“Society and technology are not two ontologically distinct entities but more like phases of the same essential action”, ‘Technology is Society Made Durable’ in A sociology of monsters: Essays on power, technology, and domination. J. Law (ed.). London: Routledge, 1991, p. 129. See also ‘Where are the missing masses? The sociology of a few mundane artifacts’ in Shaping technology/Building society. W. Bijker and J. Law (eds). London: MIT Press, 1992, pp. 225–258

[13] Bruno Latour, Reassembling the Social, p. 5

[14] The effect of material and expressive qualities is a reference to a distinction made by Manuel DeLanda in A New Philosophy of Society. London: Continuum, 2006. The notion that objects come into existence through assemblage and dispersal also shares affinities with the Deleuzian concept of territorialisation and deterritorialisation. For an attempt by Latour to engage more directly with design see ‘A cautious prometheus? A few steps toward a philosophy of design (with special attention to Peter Sloterdijk)’, Keynote lecture for the Networks of Design meeting of the Design Historical Society, Falmouth, Cornwall, 3 September 2008

[15] Pierre Bourdieu, Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste, trans. R. Nice, Routledge Kegan Paul, 1986

[16] Manzini, Creative Communities. ‘Executive summary: creative communities and the diffused social enterprise. The socio-technical innovation in bottom-up perspective’, in Creative Communities. Towards Active Welfare and a Distributed Economy, 2006, p. 7. Accessible at http://81.246.16.10/videos/EMUDE/EMUDE%20final%20report.pdf.

[17] “Diffused social enterprise: this is diffuse enterprise that auto-produces social quality, where the term ‘diffuse enterprise’ indicates people who, in their everyday life, organise themselves to obtain the results they are directly interested in; and the expression ‘to auto-produce social quality’ refers to the process whereby, through actively seeking to resolve their problems, people enhance a project that has the side effect of (more or less deliberately) reinforcing the social fabric.” Manzini, Creative Communities, note 3, p. 8

[18] See for instance Eivind Stř & Pĺl Stradbakken, ‘Political challenges: to create frameworks of social enterprises’, in Creative Communities, pp. 160-162

[19] Erik Swyngedouw. ‘Let the People Govern? Civil Society, Governmentality and Governance-Beyond-the- State’. Paper submitted to: URBAN STUDIES (special issue SINGOCOM) c2004. Available at http://socgeo.ruhosting.nl/colloquium/humboldt.pdf. p.42. See also Erik Swyngedouw, ‘Governance innovation and the citizen: the Janus face of governance-beyond-the-state’, Urban Studies 42: 11, 2005, pp. 1991-2006

[20] Michel Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at the Collčge de France 1978-1979. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008

[21] Chris Otter. ‘Making liberal objects’. Cultural Studies 21: 4, 2007, pp. 570–590

[22] “In other words, what is involved is the generalisation forms of ‘enterprise’ by diffusing and multiplying them as much as possible, enterprises which must not be focused on the form of big national or international enterprises of the type of big enterprises of the state. I think this multiplication of the ‘enterprise’ form within the social body is what is at stake in neo-liberal policy. It is a matter of making the market, competition, and so the enterprise, into what could be called the formative power of society.” Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics, p.149

[23] Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics, pp. 203-206

[24] Foucault The Birth of Biopolitics, p. 295 and Erik Swyngedouw, ‘Let the People Govern?’, p. 14

[25] “In other words, rather than ask ourselves how the sovereign appears to us in his lofty isolation, we should try to discover how it is that subjects are gradually, progressively, really and materially constituted through a multiplicity of organisms, forces, energies, materials, desires, thoughts etc.” Michel Foucault, Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972-1977. Brighton: Harvester Press, 1980, p.97

[26] Slavoj Žižek, ‘Superego and the Act: A lecture by Slavoj Žižek’, August 1999, www.egs.edu/faculty/slavoj-zizek/articles/the-super-ego-and-the-act/, viewed 6/5/2011

[27]See The Human Condition, Chicago: The University of Chigago Press,1998, and The Promise of Politics, J. Kohn (ed), New York: Shocken Books, 2005, particularly the chapter ‘Introduction into Politics’, pp. 93-200.

[28] See ‘Epilogue’ in The Promise of Politics, pp. 201-204

[29] Tony Fry, Design as Politics, Oxford; New York: Berg, 2011, p. 219

[30] Tony Fry, ‘Design and the political’, Design Philosophy Papers, Issue 6, 2003/04. See also Design and politics op cit.

[31] For an example of what this might mean see Louise Crabtree, Sustainable Housing Development in Urban Australia: exploring obstacles to and opportunities for ecocity efforts, Australian Geographer 36: 3, 2005, pp. 333–350