Thursday 1 August 2024

Affect and Informal Learning Through Adaptation of Workplace Practice


 

This paper written by me and my friend Tanya Harris was based on a small-scale study of self-employed artist-practitioners working in Hackney, carried out in the autumn of 2020, focussing on the ways in which their work was affected by the impact of the COVID pandemic.  The paper was written for the NORRAG  06 Special Issue NORRAG 06 Special Issue ‘States of Emergency: Education in the Time of COVID-19’, and is structured as a response to a preliminary paper a preliminary paper written by Irving Epstein 'Education and COVID-19 through the Lens of Affect', also published in the NORRAG collection.

Affect and Informal Learning Through Adaptation of Workplace Practice
Jay Derrick, Senior Lecturer, UCL Institute of Education, UK
Tanya Harris, Arts and Culture Educational Consultant, UK

Work is an important context for lifelong learning. Much learning is informal, but nevertheless makes a significant contribution to personal and professional development over time. In workplaces, social relations, and the arrangement, affordances and limitations of the physical environment for productivity, problem-solving and learning are salient. This contrasts with formal contexts for learning, which tend to
foreground official, explicit aspects of curriculum, obscuring features that are tacit, affective and contingent. Each of Epstein’s (this issue) four forms of affect are reviewed in the light of evidence from a qualitative study of adaptations made by freelance creative practitioners to work practices, forced by the COVID-19 pandemic (Derrick & Harris, 2020).
 

The SOLO project
The East End of London is a base for many self-employed and sole-trader artists and craftworkers, whose work has been particularly disrupted by COVID-19. They are examples of “passionate workers” (McRobbie, 2016), typically concerned about the quality of their work, contributing to the community’s
quality of life, and earning income. McRobbie (2002) sees these attributes and precarity of employment as features of a rapidly changing Creative Industries sector. This group plays a role in the uniqueness of the area, and in its developing economy. SOLO: Surviving or Thriving? was a research project funded by UCL’s Listen and Respond programme. The aim of the project was to explore the pandemic’s impacts on self-employed creative practitioners based in Hackney, and specific changes made to their work in response to the crisis. Extended Zoom interviews with six practising artists enabled them to reflect on their
experiences and feelings during the lockdown, focusing on what they learned and changes they made to work. The three artists whose interviews are referenced in this paper are briefly profiled: VH runs Hackney Shed, an inclusive Theatre Company for children and young people. Lockdown in March 2020 meant the closure of almost every project and activity they were engaged in, including fully rehearsed theatre productions which were just about to start performing to audiences. VH and her staff, in consultation with some young participants, designed a range of new activities which could take place
entirely online. One highlight was a YouTube soap-opera. “We tried doing something different, an online soap opera, which in hindsight was way more work than we anticipated. It’s called Corona-nation Street.”1  PB, a community worker and gigging musician, drew homeless people he saw while on his daily exercise. His jobs had dried up, but he saw this as giving him time for visual art: “It’s changed my work. I’ve just been super creative. I didn’t for one moment feel that it was affecting me in a negative way.” He made collages with his drawings, using photographs of the skyscrapers lining the streets and framing the rough sleepers, and then taught himself to add music to his images learning to use composition apps he downloaded onto his phone. He published them on Instagram. Expressing his feelings about the plight of the homeless, he discovered, like VH, capacities he didn’t realise he had: “I spent an entire day in bed with a pair of headphones on and my massive chunky sausage fingers, trying to write music on an iPhone – that was a revelation, of my level of OCD capabilities.”  CS, a photojournalist whose work ceased abruptly, had a chance to talk to his neighbours for the first time while exercising on his street during lockdown: “This is the first time as a community and worldwide, we experienced something like this, and obviously that affects the way we interact and the way we do things.” He began to feel it was important
to act as a witness to events impacting on the very diverse people living on his street. He started taking pictures of his neighbours, inviting them to tell their stories. Encouraged by the responses he received, his serendipitous project gradually became public art via Instagram, leading to an international exhibition and a book: “I’m particularly proud of the way in which it became a community hub; a way for neighbours to
connect and get to know each other.”
 

Intensities of encounter
The experience of COVID-19 has created what Deleuze and Guattari (1968) term intensive encounters. These generate first confusion, then thought, and a process of constructing an account which fits reality. These kinds of intensive encounters provide a way of describing the work of artists and educators,
before and after lockdown. The pandemic, while creating difficult challenges, provided new materials and conditions for work, through which the artists were able to produce new kinds of intensive encounters. For CS, this grew directly out of new and richer encounters with his neighbours; for VH, highly pressured team-working was required to redesign their project, requiring new modes of rehearsal and performance: “It was a huge learning curve, because none of us know how to do video editing. We’re downloading software and just trying to learn how to do it – it’s not in any of our skill sets.”  Epstein (this issue) equates the concept of intensity of encounter with “direct and authentic contact”, pointing to the dramatically increased reliance on digital applications for sustaining formal education during the pandemic, and
the impossibility of meeting face-to-face. He argues “the performativity embedded in remote learning technologies is a questionable substitute for the interpersonal interactions that comprise typical classroom activity.” VH suggests the picture is more nuanced. The online activities she and her staff hurriedly developed afforded new kinds of educational encounters for both facilitators and users. These are not
inauthentic or less “intense”. Unexpected benefits for her users emerged: in a real sense distance was abolished for children who lived too far away to participate in person. The soap opera format they adopted was not compromised by irregular attendance, as a standard theatre production would have been: “We have a handful of young people that got rehoused and they were too far away. But once we started
delivering online, they were able to start coming again. They were members that we’d lost that were able to then join us again because the distance wasn’t an issue.”  This suggests that equating online with pejorative senses of remote in relation to learning may simply reinforce the inequalities reproduced by the formal and static institutional structures of education systems; the “intensity of learning encounters” is no longer necessarily a function of physical distance: “Learning can be online but it can’t be remote – learning happens in your head and your body” (Harrison, 2020).
 

Meaning-making and assemblages
Meaning-making is not confined to formal educational contexts but takes place as part of and through all human activity – as a central element of Arendt’s (1958) concept of Vita Activa. The products of meaning-making are referred to by Deleuze & Guattari (1987) as “assemblages”, continually created anew, through processes of “coding”, “stratifying”, and “territorialising”. Work consists of continuous individual and collective meaning-making which entails direct engagement with the physical world, through which new
assemblages are brought into being. Insofar as learning and meaning-making are coterminous, the pandemic created conditions in which the practitioners in the study were thrown into a curve of intensive learning and meaningmaking, regarding their own capacities and aspects of their specialist practices. VH gained a new understanding of the potential and resilience of her organisation – co-constructed with funders, trustees, colleagues and young clients. The participants in the soap-opera project collaboratively created new meanings in relation to production and performance, demonstrating capacity for hard work and resilience in the face of a crisis. CS contributed to the creation of new modes of communication, recognition and identity for his neighbours and himself, extending their potential for the creation of new meanings and assemblages. PB sees the pandemic as a reminder of the danger of hubris: “Ask anyone
who had somebody die of AIDS in the eighties. Something not human comes along and wipes out this arrogant belief that we’re in control of a system.”


Contingency
Contingency meant that a rapid period of learning was suddenly imperative for VH and her team: they learned about the design of new modes of performance, online teaching and learning with young students with special needs, and how to use digital video conferencing software. The lockdown forced new conditions on both VH and SC. In different ways within circumstances which simultaneously provided new constraints and opportunities, each shaped their work. PB on the other hand deliberately cultivates both contingency and agility to enrich his work: “Sometimes you need to stop drawing the figure that you know, and just scrawl, lose your skill a bit – give it freshness. You won’t lose the stuff you’ve learned, you’ll find some new avenue for it. It’s a survival strategy. You put your ideas in a suitcase, and if you have to leave suddenly, you can reopen that suitcase and there’s your culture and there’s your ideas. If you can’t put it in a suitcase, it’s not a very good idea.”
 

Conclusion
The phenomenological view of workplace practice supported by this study suggests that the contingent aspects of any situation are always simultaneously both inhibiting and enabling, and these effects are “entangled” (Derrick, 2020). In this view, work consists of collective manipulation, exploitation
and management of these entanglements, through the process of which practice is shaped and practitioners are developed, for better or worse. This dynamic view, put into the spotlight by the disruptive experience of the pandemic, offers an alternative account not just of artists’ practice, but of the complex and
adaptive work of educators, whatever setting they are working in, suggesting that, to some extent, we are all teachers. This counters the idea that teachers are merely conduits for the “delivery” of pre-packaged curricula to students thirsty for the “acquisition” of knowledge (Sfard, 1998), suggesting rather that, like  creative sector practitioners, their role is to design and facilitate participatory schemas for intensive encounters and meaning-making.

Footnote 1. This refers humorously to a long-running British TV soap opera called Coronation Street

References
Arendt, H. (1958). The human condition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1968, 1994 ed.). Difference and repetition. New York: Columbia University Press.
Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1987, 2004 ed.). A thousand plateaus. London: Bloomsbury.
Derrick, J. (2020). ‘Tacit pedagogy’ and ‘entanglement’: practice-based learning and innovation. Journal of Workplace Learning, 32(4), 273-284.
Derrick, J., & Harris, T. (2020). SOLO: Surviving or thriving? London: UCL.
Harrison, B. (2020, November 6). Why there is nothing remote about online learning. TES.
McRobbie, A. (2002). From Holloway to Hollywood: happiness at work in the new cultural economy? In P. du Gay & M. Pryke (Eds.), Cultural Economy. London: Sage.
McRobbie, A. (2016). Be creative: Making a living in the new culture industries. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Sfard, A. (1998). On two metaphors for learning and the dangers of choosing just one. Educational Researcher, 27(2), 4-13.

Monday 29 July 2024

Machine evolution in the absence of humanity: The Invincible (Polish: Niezwyciężony) by Stanislav Lem

  


The Invincible by Stanislav Lem is one of the finest ‘hard’ sci-fi novellas I know, absolutely as good as his other much better-known story, Solaris.  It was written in the 1960s, and is a detective story concerning the mysterious loss of a spaceship and all its crew on a deserted planet.  It’s told from the perspective of the commanders of a second space ship, called the Invincible, similar to the first, which is sent to investigate the disappearance.  It reads mostly as halfway between a scientific report and a regular novel, very characteristic of one of Lem’s many different writing styles – sober, concerned primarily with factual occurrences, though also recording emotions in so far as these indicate the strangeness of the circumstances – the style of The Invincible is almost identical to that of Solaris, and to most of his Pirx the Pilot stories – Lem was after all a trained and sophisticated scientist.    

As the story unfolds Lem gradually introduces the amazing idea of a process of competitive machine evolution carrying on for millions of years, with no human or other sentient involvement whatsoever, proposing that if the initial conditions are right, then the outcome of that evolutionary struggle would be the simplest and smallest kind of modular ‘device’, powered by the most widely available source of energy (solar power), but having the capability to join together with millions of identical others to form enormous ensembles, able to generate gigantic magnetic field gradients which enable them to ‘fly’ and to attack and disable other machines, which it detects through their electrical activity.  Over time the remnants of their original programming become a kind of radically simplified group memory, including how to disable different types of potential competitor – and this includes sentient beings too – there are no animals or plants on the land areas of the planet, but there are in the sea, though these flee quickly if they detect any movement on land.  The crew’s investigations lead to some of them being completely disabled by being subjected to massive magnetic field gradients, which wipe their consciousness, effectively reducing them to the state of babies, behaving completely anarchically and unable to look after themselves – and this is what has befallen the previous crew.  Lem’s idea is that this form of ‘device’ might have evolved through millions of years of struggle for resources and power between different types of machines left behind on the planet by sentient beings, the key thing being that in this struggle and in the conditions pertaining on this planet, it wasn’t superior consciousness that won out, but simplicity, small size and flexibility.  And he keeps reminding us that this process could take place in the complete absence of what the singularity merchants would call ‘consciousness’.  The original machines that started the process were programmed to find resources and to protect themselves, whatever their other functions, and if necessary by competing with other machines: this programming was the driver for the evolutionary process the human scientists on the Invincible eventually hypothesise, before leaving the planet having recognised that the only way to ‘manage’ the situation would be to destroy all, or nearly all the tiny ‘machines’, which would effectively mean destroying the planet.  Very interesting in the context of discussions and debates about the future direction of AI in the real world.   

It’s impressive how absolutely topical the theme of this story is, written over half a century ago, but how in one respect at least it is of its time and its specific place in Iron-Curtain Europe – there are no women in the story, and no women are even mentioned.  At least the US film version of Solaris made some of the crew women, and one of them black.  Furthermore, Lem’s space ‘workers’ –always hyper-professional and who always proceed according to agreed protocols as far as they can – are Eastern-block explorer-scientists, apparently culturally neutral, egalitarian and non-competitive compared to their western counterparts, but as far as I can remember (I’ve been reading and collecting his stuff ever since seeing the Russian film of Solaris (directed by Andrei Tarkovski) while I was at university in the early 70s), absolutely always male….

I wrote this having forgotten about my earlier post on it, which is similar but not exactly the same.

Friday 7 October 2022

Beware technological determinism!

Dmitry-Kostyukov: Zora-the-Robot-Care-Giver-Wellcome-Photography-Prize
 

‘Social science has been largely a study of the ways in which humans are not free: the way that our actions and understandings might be said to be determined by forces outside our control.  Any account which appears to show human beings collectively shaping their own destiny, or even expressing freedom for its own sake, will likely be written off as illusory, awaiting ‘real’ scientific explanation; or if none is forthcoming (why do people dance?), as outside the scope of social theory entirely. This is one reason why most ‘big histories’ place such a strong focus on technology. Dividing up the human past according to the primary material from which tools and weapons were made (Stone Age, Bronze Age, Iron Age) or else describing it as a series of revolutionary breakthroughs (Agricultural Revolution, Urban Revolution, Industrial Revolution), they then assume that the technologies themselves largely determine the shape that human societies will take for centuries to come – or at least until the next abrupt and unexpected breakthrough comes along to change everything again.
        Now, we are hardly about to deny that technologies play an important role in shaping society. Obviously technologies are important: each new invention opens up social possibilities that had not existed before. At the same time, it’s very easy to overstate the importance of new technologies in setting the overall direction of social change.’ (David Graeber and David Wengrow, The Dawn of Everything, 2021, pp498-499)

Tuesday 16 August 2022

Prospect Cottage, Dungeness












Finally fulfilled a long term ambition to see Derek Jarman’s cottage and it’s garden on the weird shingle expanses of Dungeness, on the edge of Romney Marsh. Strange he should have included the poem by Donne (see my last post from ages ago) - this seems much more like a piece of deliberate artifice, whereas the other features, though clearly carefully arranged, appear much more to be found objects.