Friday, 10 February 2017

modernisation


Syria: Consultations on the Geneva Talks
Tomorrow afternoon, Council members will be briefed by Special Envoy Staffan de Mistura on the fourth round of the intra-Syrian talks held between 23 February and 3 March. Council members will be interested in hearing de Mistura’s assessment of the talks, and his plans for the next round, which is scheduled for the end of March.
By the end of this most recent round, it seems that de Mistura had convinced the Syrian government and three opposition delegations to discuss the formation of a transitional government, which would draft a new constitution and hold elections. Ahead of the talks, he had repeatedly stressed that the agenda for the Geneva talks is resolution 2254, which provides for the establishment of credible, inclusive, and non-sectarian governance in Syria, and sets a timeline and process for drafting a new constitution and holding free and fair elections within 18 months. At the talks, de Mistura proposed discussing these three issues in parallel as part of three “baskets”: governance, constitution, and elections. The Syrian government insisted that counter-terrorism should be included as a fourth “basket”. The High Negotiations Committee (HNC), a Riyadh-based opposition umbrella group, initially refused the inclusion of a fourth “basket”, fearing that this would be used by the Syrian government to sideline discussions about a political transition, but were able to agree after de Mistura proposed that this “basket” tackle other security-related issues and medium-term confidence-building measures along with counter-terrorism.
Council members might be interested in hearing of de Mistura’s efforts to ensure that tensions over the format of the talks, particularly the absence of one collective opposition delegation, did not derail the talks even before they started. On 11 February, the HNC announced a 21-member unified opposition delegation comprising representatives of political and armed groups, as well as one representative each from the opposition groups based in Cairo and Moscow (which are tolerated by the Syrian government). However, the Cairo and Moscow opposition groups did not attend as part of the HNC delegation, but participated separately in the talks. De Mistura, who met separately with the HNC and the two other opposition groups, conveyed the desire of the Syrian government that there be just one opposition delegation. Council members might want to hear about the steps de Mistura plans to take in the coming weeks to bring the opposition groups closer together. This may be particularly important in the light of Syrian government statements that for the next round to succeed they need a unified opposition.
Council members may be interested in discussing the efforts to establish a mechanism to monitor the nationwide ceasefire, brokered by Russia and Turkey, which started on 30 December 2016. Following 23-24 January talks in Astana, Turkey and Russia, joined by Iran, signed a joint communiqué deciding to establish a trilateral mechanism to observe and ensure full compliance with the ceasefire. The three countries held a technical meeting in Astana on 6 February to establish the mechanism to monitor the ceasefire, with the participation of the US and Jordan, as well as the UN in an advisory role. A second meeting on 16 February also included representatives of the Syrian government and opposition groups. Now with a meeting planned for 14-15 March in Astana, Council members may want to inquire about the working methods of this joint group, and whether there are provisions to ensure accountability for ceasefire violations, They may also ask what influence the guarantor countries have over the parties, particularly given the persistence of government airstrikes against rebel-held areas, including in the vicinity of Damascus, despite a formal request by Russia to the government of Syria to “silence the skies” in the areas covered by the ceasefire during the Geneva talks.
In a press conference following the adjournment of the Geneva talks, de Mistura expressed UN support for the Astana efforts and the expectation that the talks will address issues related to the maintenance of the ceasefire, immediate confidence-building measures and operational counter-terrorism issues.
Finally, Council members might inquire about de Mistura’s efforts to get the parties to agree to a 12-point memorandum, building on a similar proposal discussed in 2016, in order to establish common ground ahead of the next round of the Geneva talks.
Dispatches from the Field: Final Day in Abuja
On Monday (6 March), Security Council members concluded their visiting mission to the Lake Chad Basin countries in Abuja. The day involved a meeting with the Vice-President of Nigeria, Yemi Osinbajo, as well as meetings with the UN Country Team in Nigeria, Nigerian civil society organisations, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), donors and partners, the Minister of Budget and National Planning, and female representatives of the Nigerian Senate and House of Representatives.
During the meetings, the overarching message was the complexity of the challenges facing Nigeria, in particular the conflict with Boko Haram in Nigeria’s northeast. The terrorist group remains a threat, and there is a need to alleviate and bring under control the associated humanitarian crisis, while addressing the underlying causes of this conflict. Among the root causes is acute poverty, and particularly important for overcoming this are the creation of jobs and education.
The UN Resident and Humanitarian Coordinator Edward Kallon, after presenting Nigeria’s economic and security challenges, said that there is an 18-month window to bring the crisis in northeast Nigeria under control, or it risked becoming protracted. Nigerian-based ambassadors and donors highlighted that, despite the military gains of the last two years against Boko Haram, the international community needs to take a holistic approach that simultaneously tackles the immediate challenges and underlying problems, or it will pay a much greater price in the future.
When members met Vice-President Osinbajo at the end of the day (in the absence abroad of President Muhammadu Buhari), he told them that Nigeria was committed to solving the Lake Chad Basin region crisis and preventing its spread. The military situation, however, was no longer the main challenge, although Boko Haram asymmetric attacks remained a threat. The Vice-President stressed that the most important issue now is how to deal with longer-term issues. He cited programmes to support displaced persons and reintegration, as well as to promote youth employment and education. At the meeting, Osinbajo acknowledged that abuses had occurred during counter-terrorism operations, but said Nigeria was now trying to strictly observe human rights. In their responses, several members stressed the importance of protecting human rights within counter-terrorism strategies. Osinbajo also highlighted how livelihoods had been affected The concept of modernisation emerged as the response of the western social science  to the many challenges faced by the third world .With the process of political decolonisation following the second world war .The new nation were in a hurry to launch massive programmes of economic  development and technical change . The need for developing new paradigms to shape and order their development programme was strongly felt .Modernisation was one  such formulation  which held out considerable promise. We explore the concept of development in the context of modernisation .At the outset we discuss  the notion of modernisation as a paradigm  in sociological literature , particulaly  in writing of Giddens.The purpose here  is to develop an understanding of modernisation theory and then go on to its criticism and emergence of postmodernism as paradigm. In the course of tracing this trajectory we explore the many dimensions of development that acquire importance at different stages. The similarities between classical modenisation stidies and new modernisation  studies can observed in constancy of the research focus on third world  development  

There are important distinction between  the classical studies and the new studies of the modernisation school.For example  in the classical  approach  tradition  is seen  as an  obstacle  to development  whereas  in the new approach  tradition is an additive  factor of development .With regard to methodology, the classical approach  applies  a theoretical construction with hig h level of abstraction  the  new approach applies concrete case studies given ina historical context .Regarding the direction  of development , the classical perspective uses a unidirectional path  which tends  towards the united states and european union model , the new perspective prefers a multidirectional path of development . Finally  the classical  perspective  demonstrates a relative neglect of the external factors  factors and  conflict bestowed by the new approach .Development , in the changed  context ,poses a challenge and, at the same time, presents an opportunity .
This begin with an attempt to understand the process of modernisation and the evolution of  modernisation theories . 
A CONSERVATIVE CASE FOR CONSEVATION OF ENVIRONMENT:


A CONSERVATIVE CASE FOR CONSEVATION OF ENVIRONMENT:
CRAZY as it may sound, this is the perfect time to enact a sensible policy to address the dangerous threat of climate change. Before you call us nuts, hear us out.
During his eight years in office, President Obama regularly warned of the very real dangers of global warming, but he did not sign any meaningful domestic legislation to address the problem, largely because he and Congress did not see eye to eye. Instead, Mr. Obama left us with a grab bag of regulations aimed at reducing carbon emissions, often established by executive order.
In comes President Trump, who seems much less concerned about the risks of climate change, and more worried about how excessive regulation impedes economic growth and depresses living standards. As Democrats are learning the hard way, it is all too easy for a new administration to reverse the executive orders of its predecessors.
On-again-off-again regulation is a poor way to protect the environment. And by creating needless uncertainty for businesses that are planning long-term capital investments, it is also a poor way to promote robust economic growth.
Continue reading the main story



ears in office, President Obama regularly warned of the very real dangers of global warming, but he did not sign any meaningful domestic legislation to address the problem, largely because he and Congress did not see eye to eye. Instead, Mr. Obama left us with a grab bag of regulations aimed at reducing carbon emissions, often established by executive order.
In comes President Trump, who seems much less concerned about the risks of climate change, and more worried about how excessive regulation impedes economic growth and depresses living standards. As Democrats are learning the hard way, it is all too easy for a new administration to reverse the executive orders of its predecessors.
On-again-off-again regulation is a poor way to protect the environment. And by creating needless uncertainty for businesses that are planning long-term capital investments, it is also a poor way to promote robust economic growth.


by the impact of the shrinking of Lake Chad due to climate change, and expressed the hope that the mission would focus attention on the Lake Chad Basin.
One of the issues discussed during the concluding day of the mission was the access challenges for delivering humanitarian aid. In the UN country team meeting, concerns were raised about the requirement by authorities of military escorts for aid deliveries during active conflict, as this risked compromising the neutrality of relief efforts. Funding shortages were also highlighted, with members told that this has led to UN relief efforts being unable to meet the scale of needs even in the areas where there is access. At present, the UN’s 2017 humanitarian relief plan for northeast Nigeria, targeting the 6.9 million people most in need, has received - already one-quarter into the year - only $51 million, or 1.8 percent of the amount required for the year which exceeds $1 billion.
Meetings with the UN country team and Nigerian civil society groups revealed the problems of governance and corruption in Nigeria. These are issues that have contributed to northeast Nigeria’s marginalisation and underdevelopment, enabling the extremist ideology of Boko Haram to be embraced by a part of the population. When members met Minister of Budget and National Planning Udoma Udo Udoma, he elaborated on the reforms that President Buhari has pursued since his election in 2015 to tackle corruption and diversify the economy from its dependency on oil. He further sought to answer members’ questions about how Nigeria intended to fulfill the $1 billion commitment it announced for the war-torn northeast at the 24 February Oslo Donor Conference for Nigeria and the Lake Chad Basin, where donor countries pledged $458 million for the crisis in 2017.
Discussions during the day highlighted Nigeria’s huge economic and demographic challenges. Abuja-based ambassadors stressed the risk that by not adequately supporting Nigeria in addressing the current crises, a revived or new insurgency could emerge that could further destabilise the region and exacerbate Europe’s refugee crisis. Nigeria was described during the day as being “too big to fail.”
Members appeared to want to build on their experience from the previous day in Maiduguri and were keen to learn more from the UN country team, civil society groups and the women legislators about how they try to address gender dimensions of the conflict, including sexual violence and exploitation, stressing the importance of empowering women.
Council members also made their first visit in ten years to ECOWAS. At a session with the Vice-President of ECOWAS, Edward Singhatey and the Secretary-General of the Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS), Ahmad Allam-Mi, members urged the creation of a common ECOWAS-ECCAS strategy to address the drivers of the Boko Haram conflict. Central Africa heads of state and government first announced they would pursue such a strategy with ECOWAS at an ECCAS summit held on 29 January 2015. The meeting afforded Singhatey the opportunity to comment on some of the other situations that both ECOWAS and the Council have been seized with: Mali, Guinea-Bissau, and The Gambia. On The Gambia, Singhatey spoke of ECOWAS’s intention to maintain a 500-strong force in the country following its recent political crisis, highlighting the financial support that ECOWAS would need for this.
Briefing on the Mission
On Thursday (8 March), the ambassadors of the three co-lead countries of the visiting mission, Francois Delattre (France), Fode Seck (Senegal), and Matthew Rycroft (UK), will brief the Council on the mission. Deputy Secretary-General Amina Mohammed may also brief. Over the course of the mission, the co-leads emphasised its objectives: to generate more attention to a conflict that has been neglected by signaling their support to the four countries they visited - Cameroon, Chad, Niger, and Nigeria - in their efforts to combat Boko Haram; and to gain a better understanding of the scale of the humanitarian crisis and the root causes of the conflict. The mission seemed to impress on members the complexity of the crisis.

During the visit, members observed the progress by the four countries achieved through the MNJTF. Members seemed to have a stronger appreciation of the regional approach required for addressing the threats and problems of the Lake Chad countries
As next steps, it seems that the co-leads will seek the adoption of a draft presidential statement that covers the key messages and findings of the mission, including the need to support regional efforts to combat Boko Haram, to scale up the humanitarian response, and to address the structural causes underlining the crisis.


Burundi :
Tomorrow (9 March), the Council will be briefed in consultations by the Special Adviser to the Secretary-General for Conflict Prevention, Jamal Benomar, on the Secretary-General’s report on the situation in Burundi (S/2017/165).
The security and political situation in Burundi, which deteriorated sharply after April 2015 when Burundian President Pierre Nkurunziza announced that he would run for a controversial third term, remains dire. While the number of casualties has declined and the security situation has improved, the report notes that the current situation is unsustainable. Serious human rights abuses continue to be committed daily with impunity, mainly by the government and the Imbonerakure, the youth group of the Nkurunziza’s party. The overall level of oppression and state control over Burundian society has increased, manifested by arbitrary deprivations of life, enforced disappearances, cases of torture, and large-scale arbitrary detention. Furthermore, these actions are taking place in an environment where freedoms of expression, association, and assembly are virtually non-existent. An estimated 387,000 people have fled the country since the beginning of the crisis, and the report notes that it is estimated that that number will surpass 500,000 by the end of the year. The report highlights, in particular, allegations of more than 200 cases of enforced disappearances since October 2016.
Council members will be interested in Benomar’s views on possible avenues for renewed engagement with Burundi, which has shunned international cooperation, particularly since the political crisis began. According to media reports, in October 2016, Nkurunziza requested the replacement of Benomar as Special Adviser. (Over the years Burundi has rejected engagement with successive UN envoys.) Burundi has ceased all cooperation with OHCHR, refuses to cooperate with the Commission of Inquiry mandated by the Human Rights Council (HRC), and withdrew from the ICC, which has been conducting a preliminary investigation into the situation in Burundi. In particular, they may be interested in hearing whether Burundi would allow for greater UN involvement in facilitating dialogue between Burundian stakeholders. In addition, members may be looking for recommendations on how to incentivise Burundi to find a political solution to the crisis.
The Inter-Burundian Dialogue, led by the East African Community (EAC) and facilitated by former Tanzanian President Benjamin Mkapa, continues to struggle. The latest round of talks was held in Tanzania between 16-19 February. On the first day, the Burundian government officially demanded that Tanzania arrest several of the opposition attendees, whom it accuses of violent insurrection and leading a foiled coup plot in May 2015. The warrants, which were not issued, would have affected several members of the main umbrella opposition movement, the National Council for the Restoration of Arusha Agreement and Rule of Law (CNARED), who are currently in exile. After the ruling party refused to sit down with the opposition, Mkapa met with them in a hotel outside the International Arusha Conference Center. The government also rejected Benomar’s participation in the Arusha talks. On the last day of the meetings, Mkapa called for an urgent EAC heads-of-state summit in order to invigorate the dialogue.
The two sides remain divided: the government claiming there is no crisis and focusing on the 2020 elections, and the opposition demanding a transitional government and the removal of Nkurunziza before those elections.
Moreover, Nkurunziza has hinted he may run for a fourth term in 2020. The Secretary-General’s report notes that Nkurunziza has suggested in a statement at the end of 2016 that he might seek a fourth term in office “if the Burundian people decide to change the Constitution according to their wishes”. On 16 February, the Council of Ministers of Burundi established a commission to amend the Burundian constitution, though it is as yet unclear if those amendments would touch upon presidential term limits. This follows an internal Burundian dialogue process which concluded that the majority of citizens demanded an end to presidential term limits. However, many opposition and civil society groups did not participate in the process which they claim was marred by a lack of inclusiveness and transparency, with the objective of producing a predetermined political outcome by the government. Council members will also be interested to hear from Benomar about the current status of the internal dialogue process.
The report, due by 29 January, was circulated to Council members only on 23 February, thus postponing the consultations from February to March. It concludes that the foundational values of the Arusha Agreement, namely, justice, the rule of law, democracy, good governance, respect for the fundamental rights and freedoms of individuals, unity, solidarity, gender equality, and tolerance among the various political and ethnic components of the Burundian people, have all been undermined. It notes that adoption of constitutional amendments that would reverse provisions of the Arusha Agreement and eliminate presidential term limits would, under the current circumstances, bear the risk of plunging the country back into armed conflict, with unpredictable repercussions for the region. It calls for urgent measures to ensure accountability and prevent impunity, and calls on Burundi to renew cooperation with the Commission of Inquiry mandated by the HRC and to hold all perpetrators of human rights violations and abuses to account. It further calls on Burundi to renew cooperation and engage with the international community more generally.
The report also highlights other areas of resolution 2303, adopted on 29 July 2016, which have not been implemented. The resolution authorised a police component with a ceiling of 228 officers to monitor the security situation and support the human rights monitoring of OHCHR, under the authority of Benomar’s office, and urged Burundi to cooperate fully with the police component, including giving unhindered access to detention facilities. Burundi has publicly rejected the resolution. Council members may seek Benomar’s views on the prospects of implementing resolution 2303, in full or in part, with the cooperation of Burundi.
Another issue raised in the report is the partial deployment of the AU human rights observers and military experts to Burundi, due to the fact Burundi has yet to sign a memorandum of understanding with the AU on their deployment and activities. As of February 2017, only 45 human rights observers (out of 100), 32 of whom are funded by the Peacebuilding Fund, have been deployed to Burundi, and only 23 military experts
South Sudan: Consultations on the UN Mission and the Human Rights Situation :
Tomorrow (23 February), in a meeting requested by the US, Assistant Secretary-General for Peacekeeping Operations El Ghassim Wane and Assistant Secretary-General for Human Rights Andrew Gilmour are scheduled to brief on the situation in South Sudan. The meeting is expected to focus on the following three areas:
• the Secretary-General’s 30-day assessment of the UN Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS), including the deployment and future requirements of the Regional Protection Force (RPF), obstacles to setting up the force and impediments to UNMISS in carrying out its mandate;
• the implementation of the recommendations of the independent special investigation regarding the violence in Juba in July 2016, and the response of UNMISS to this violence; and
• the human rights situation in South Sudan.

Wane will provide the overview of the Secretary-General’s 30-day assessment, a confidential document that was circulated to Council members on 13 February. The assessment reportedly noted that UNMISS continues to face obstacles in carrying out its responsibilities. The freedom of movement of UNMISS personnel continues to be restricted by government forces [i.e. the Sudan People’s Liberation Army or SPLA], including to places where civilians have been displaced and where there are allegations that they have been subjected to violence at the hands of the SPLA. Humanitarian access to populations in need continues to be hindered, an ongoing problem that takes on heightened urgency in light of the 20 February announcement by the Food and Agricultural Organisation (FAO), the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF) and the World Food Program (WFP) that famine has been declared in Unity State in South Sudan. The three agencies warned that “the total number of food insecure people is expected to rise to 5.5 million … [in South Sudan] at the height of the lean season in July if nothing is done to avert the spread of the food crisis”.
There will most likely be interest in learning more about interactions between UN officials and the government regarding repeated violations of the Status of Forces Agreement. Members will want to know from Wane about efforts undertaken to lift or limit the restrictions imposed by the government on the freedom of movement of UN personnel and on humanitarian access in various parts of the country. Of particular concern over the past week has been the fate of some 30,000 people displaced by fighting in Wau Shilluk and Malakal in Upper Nile State. An UNMISS patrol to Wau Shilluk was stopped by government troops on 16 February.
Another issue that will be raised in the meeting is the planning for the deployment of the RPF, which is expected to consist of 4,000 troops who will be responsible for protecting UN staff, humanitarian actors and civilians in Juba. One outstanding issue is that the government has indicated to UNMISS that it cannot allocate one of two plots of land identified to house the Force. Members may be interested in knowing if there have been additional discussions on this issue with the government, and whether other potential sites to locate the troops have been considered or discussed with the government.
The timing of deployment of the RPF is another issue that will most likely be discussed. The RPF was originally authorised in August 2016 but will probably not be deployed for several months. Council members may inquire about the timeframe for the deployment of enablers such as construction engineering, hospital and unmanned aerial systems units followed by the infantry battalions that constitute the Force. Ethiopia and Rwanda have committed to provide infantry for the RPF. It now appears that Kenya is again willing to contribute troops to the RPF, based on the results of a 29 January meeting between Secretary General António Guterres and President Uhuru Kenyatta on the margins of the AU Summit in Addis Ababa. This represents a reengagement by Kenya with UNMISS, as it had rescinded its original offer to take part in the RPF on 2 November 2016 following the dismissal of the UNMISS Force Commander, a Kenyan national, by then Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon in response to findings of poor performance by the independent special investigation into the July 2016 violence in Juba.
In early November 2016, following the public release of the executive summary of the report of the independent special investigation, the UN Secretariat established a taskforce, headed by Wane, to implement the recommendations of the report of the special investigation within three months. Among others, the following recommendations were made in the executive summary and may be discussed in tomorrow’s meeting: “enforcing a forward-leaning, highly mobile posture” among UNMISS troops; revising “operational and tactical arrangements in Juba to better facilitate crisis management”; and ensuring that “integrated dismounted patrols are conducted when possible to include (female) military, police and civilian sections” of the mission in places near the Protection of Civilians sites and other key locations. Members will be interested in the status of implementation of these and other recommendations from the report, whether there are any impediments, and if so, how these can be overcome.
Gilmour is expected to brief Council members on his mission to South Sudan earlier this month, including on his visit to Malakal. On 17 February, following his trip, Gilmour released a statement describing the “brutal reality” of the situation in the country as a war being “waged against the men, women and children of South Sudan.” He called for the perpetrators of human rights violations, including rape and gang rape and arbitrary detention, to be held accountable, expressed concern at the severe access restrictions faced by UNMISS, and said that elements of the SPLA had engaged in what could amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity.
In light of his findings during the visit, members may be interested in Gilmour’s views on the potential establishment of an independent investigative mechanism to collect information on human rights violations that could be used by the Hybrid Court for South Sudan, envisioned in the August 2015 peace agreement. The establishment of such a mechanism was proposed on 17 February by the three members of the UN Commission on Human Rights in South Sudan, which was established by the UN Human Rights Council in March 2016.

MOSUL SITUATION:

Tomorrow afternoon (10 March), Council members will meet in consultations on the situation in and around Mosul, Iraq. Briefings are expected from OCHA head Stephen O’Brien and High Representative for Disarmament Affairs Kim Won-soo. Russia requested the meeting earlier this week in light of the deteriorating humanitarian situation in Mosul and the alleged use of chemical weapons.
Humanitarian needs in Mosul continue to grow as Iraqi government forces make steady progress towards retaking the remaining parts of the city still under control of the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL). In January, three months after the military operation began, Iraqi government forces, with the US-led anti-ISIL coalition providing air support, regained control over the eastern part of Mosul. As a result, some 160,000 people were displaced, while an estimated 750,000 people who were trapped in the western part of Mosul faced dire humanitarian consequences. O’Brien last briefed Council members on the humanitarian situation under “any other business” on 4 January, following a request by Russia.
Council members are expected to express concern about the latest surge in the displacement of civilians and further deterioration of the humanitarian situation. On 19 February, Iraqi government forces launched an offensive on the remaining ISIL stronghold in western Mosul and made steady gains. O’Brien is likely to update Council members on the latest humanitarian needs. According to OCHA estimates, in the first week of March some 42,000 people have been displaced, and on 3 March over 13,000 were displaced in a single day making it the highest continuous displacement so far. OCHA and the UN Refugee Agency have reported that around 250,000 people in total have been displaced since the start of the military operation on 17 October 2016. Although about 64,000 internally displaced persons (IDPs) have returned to their area of origin, there are still an estimated 211,000 IDPs living in refugee camps run by the Iraqi government and various humanitarian agencies.
In addition to the humanitarian situation, Council members are likely to share their concern over the alleged use of chemical weapons in Mosul. On 3 March, the International Committee of the Red Cross and the World Health Organization both reported that 12 people including children from eastern Mosul were treated for exposure to a toxic chemical agent. Council members will be keen to hear more details from Kim, given that there is still no official confirmation regarding the type of chemical agent used and who was responsible for the attack. This incident marks the first recorded use of chemical weapons since the start of the military operation to take Mosul. According to media reports, ISIL in Iraq has been suspected of access to and use of some forms of chemical weapons. In a statement following the attack, the UN Humanitarian Coordinator in Iraq, Lise Grande, said that there needs to be an investigation into the alleged use of chemical weapons. She said that if confirmed, such an attack would be a war crime and a serious violation of international humanitarian law. Some Council members may raise the possibility of investigation of the incident.
In comparison to the humanitarian crises in Syria and Yemen, the Council has been relatively unengaged regarding the humanitarian situation in Iraq. This will be only the third meeting on the humanitarian situation in Mosul since the start of the military operation by the Iraqi government in October 2016. Though the Council members seem open to occasional updates on the humanitarian situation, there seems to be little willingness on the part of members to engage on the issue more substantively. With regard to ISIL, the Council has been very active on this issue in the context of its work on counter-terrorism, while the security response to ISIL has remained outside Council’s purview. However, if the current case of alleged use of chemical weapons is confirmed or should new cases be recorded the Council could potentially become more engaged on this issue.


DEBATE OVER THE FORCE LABOUR:  On Tuesday (14 March), the Security Council will hold a ministerial-level open debate on “Trafficking in persons in conflict situations: forced labour, slavery and other similar practices”, held under the Council agenda item “Maintenance of international peace and security”. The open debate will be presided over by the UK Secretary of State for International Development, Priti Patel. The three briefers will be Secretary-General António Guterres, UK Independent Anti-Slavery Commissioner Kevin Hyland, and Ilwad Elman, a Mogadishu-based Somali human rights activist who will brief by video teleconference. Several member states are expected to be represented at ministerial level, including by ministers who will be in New York for the opening of the Commission on the Status of Women.
The Council has been intensifying its focus on the scourge of conflict-related human trafficking and the often-resulting forced labour, slavery and similar practices. It initially addressed the issue in a briefing held in December 2015, organised by the US during its presidency, at which the Council adopted its first decision on human trafficking in the form of a presidential statement. In December 2016, the Council held a ministerial-level open debate on the issue, presided over by Spanish Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy, resulting in resolution 2331. In the concept note for the open debate on Tuesday—which comes less than three months after resolution 2331 was adopted—the UK poses several questions related to the implementation of the earlier decisions both by member states and by the UN system (S/2017/198).
Council Decisions
In its presidential statement adopted on 16 December 2015 (S/PRST/2015/25), the Council condemned instances of trafficking in conflict-affected areas; expressed concern that in some regions terrorists benefit from transnational organised crime, including from the trafficking in persons; called on member states to hold accountable those who engage in trafficking in persons; and expressed its intent to continue to address trafficking in persons with respect to the situations on its seizure list, among other things.
Resolution 2331 of 20 December 2016, among other elements, condemned all acts of trafficking, particularly by the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL), and condemned violations and other abuses committed by Boko Haram, Al-Shabaab, the Lord’s Resistance Army, and other terrorist or armed groups for the purpose of sexual slavery, sexual exploitation, and forced labour. It recognised the need for accountability and in this context, the importance of collecting and preserving evidence. The resolution expressed the Council’s intention to “integrate the issue of trafficking in persons in the areas affected by armed conflict and sexual violence in conflict into the work of relevant sanctions committees … and to ensure that sexual violence in conflict expertise, including when it is associated with trafficking in persons in the context of armed conflict consistently informs the work of sanctions committees”, and to consider targeted sanctions for individuals and entities involved in trafficking in persons in areas affected by armed conflict.
Both the 2015 presidential statement and the 2016 resolution stressed the need to ensure that persons who have been trafficked are treated as victims of crime, and are not penalised or stigmatised for their involvement in any unlawful activities in which they have been compelled to engage.
The Open Debate
No outcome is expected from Tuesday’s open debate. In addition to highlighting several provisions of resolution 2331, the concept note places particular emphasis on two aspects of the worldwide problem of human trafficking. First, rather than focusing on the process of trafficking as such, it looks at its outcomes, such as different forms of slavery, forced labour, and forced recruitment into armed groups. Second, it highlights the role of transnational organised crime in conflict-related human trafficking and these groups’ ability to adapt in targeting newly vulnerable groups such as displaced populations.
The debate on Tuesday will afford the Secretary-General his first opportunity to address the Council on the range of issues related to human trafficking and share his thoughts about the role of the UN in the implementation of resolution 2331 and, more specifically, on how the efforts by existing subsidiary bodies of the Council and Council-mandated peacekeeping operations and special political missions, could be strengthened in this context.
Hyland is likely to share his experience as Commissioner working to ensure that modern slavery is tackled by the UK in a coordinated and effective manner, including through international collaboration.
Elman may choose to share her experience working with the victims of trafficking into sexual slavery, forced labour, and conscription of civilians by Al-Shabaab. She may also speak of her work on de-radicalisation and rehabilitation of former child soldiers and with survivors of sexual and gender-based violence.
Some members may want to take stock of measures being taken domestically in the aftermath of the adoption of resolution 2331, or share their national best practices in addressing issues resulting from conflict-related human trafficking, leading up to slavery, forced labour, or other similar practices.
Some Council members may choose to reflect on the visiting mission undertaken in early March to the area of operation of Boko Haram, one of the armed groups most notorious for trafficking in persons and using different forms of slavery to advance its goals. Visiting Cameroon, Chad, Niger, and Nigeria, Council members heard first-hand testimonies about the devastating impact the results of trafficking have on the affected communities, including from women whose children were abducted by Boko Haram, and children who were unlawfully detained on the basis of suspected association with a terrorist group. (For details regarding the 3-6 March Council visiting mission please refer to our What’s in Blue

'I Can't Settle If It's Not Tidy; I Blame That On My Mum': Exploring Women's Relational Household Work Narratives:



Introduction
1.1 Drawing on a qualitative study exploring the household work[1] narratives of two generations of mothers, this article examines how these were shaped by discourses of individualisation, and also how they can be analysed through a lens of connectedness. The article sets out the theoretical background in terms of individualisation and relational narrative identities, particularly in relation to motherhood, before moving on to show how mothers in this study constructed self-narratives around the theme of household work in terms of remembered, imagined and ongoing relationships. I look at how stories of growing up were framed in terms of developing the sense of responsibility required within an individualised society, while at the same time the mothers I interviewed made sense of their identities as constituted relationally. By considering how household work practices were incorporated into broader self-narratives, I argue for further consideration of household work narratives as a way of developing our thinking on individualisation, connectedness and relational identities.
Individualisation and mothers' relational narrative identities
2.1 Individualisation theorists argue that individuals are compelled to make choices as individuals and reflexively construct their own biographies in order to make sense of this process (Giddens 1991; Beck and Beck Gernsheim 2002). In this context, household work is a source of conflict for contemporary heterosexual couples because the organisation of the mundane activities involved in maintaining a household is closely bound up with the self-image and life projects of men and women (Beck and Beck-Gernsheim 2002). In terms of household work then, a reflexive biography would account for practices and division of tasks as the result of an autonomous individual making 'identity choice[s]' (Lash and Friedman 1992: 7) within a couple relationship, as part of a required process of making conscious decisions about their relationships and how they work on a day-to-day basis (Beck-Gernsheim 2002). In theorising the self who makes these choices, Beck and Beck-Gernsheim (2002) and Giddens (1991) emphasise the resulting responsibility placed on individuals for the way in which they make these decisions.
2.2 However, this work has been criticised for misrepresenting the agency to make these decisions as a characteristic of the individual taken out of a relational and structural context (Duncan 2011). Feminist research in this area has highlighted the structural context in which household work takes place (Jackson 1992) and thus a tendency for heterosexual couples to 'fall' into traditionally gendered patterns without negotiation (Van Hooff 2011). While this has been recognised in feminist analysis, in constructing self-reflexive biographies individuals in these relationships can still draw on a felt sense of responsibility for the way in which they divide household work and make decisions about managing this in the context of heterosexual relationships, and Van Hooff's study points to this in the 'justifications' provided by her participants (see also Charles and Kerr 1988; Hochschild 1989; Beagan et al., 2008; Wiessman et al. 2008). Although these responses show how women take on this sense of responsibility, explanations for practices and decisions can involve framing this in a more relational way, accounting for one's own attitude as the result of the behaviour of one's mother. Explanations of partners' attitudes can also involve this sort of framing, and they can include suggesting that a male partner does not do a particular household work task, or does not 'see' that it is necessary, because of the way he was brought up. Other research has shown how women construct biographies in which their mothers play various roles, and participants describe consciously trying to emulate or avoid particular practices in the way they choose to engage in household work (Oakley 1974; Hochschild 1989; DeVault 1991; Pilcher 1994). This article builds on this literature to further explore how mother/daughter relationships continue to be incorporated into self-narratives around the theme of household work.
2.3 Multi-generational research on motherhood has considered how women make sense of their relationships with their mothers, and the ways in which values and practices can be consciously reproduced and changed (Brannen et al. 2004; O'Connor 2011; Thomson et al. 2011). Brannen et al. (2004) explore the transmission of motherhood as an identity, suggesting that women identified with or reacted against their mothers as role models in various ways. While decisions about work and care were partly internalised and framed in terms of personal morals and a felt sense of individual responsibility, such decisions were often explained biographically, and shaped by ongoing relationships which had implications for the process of identification of both people in the relationship. By paying attention to how mothering identities can be understood as relational and in process (Miller 2005), we can explore how connections are made across generations of mothers (Kehily and Thomson 2011). In this context, individualisation can be 


viewed as a discourse by which people make sense of their lives in their narrative accounts, emphasising autonomy and downplaying structural aspects (Brannen and Nielson 2005). While this may influence the way in which people construct accounts in which they are 'choosing, deciding and shaping' (Beck and Beck-Gernshiem 2002: 22-23), and which emphasise values of independence and self-sufficiency, these accounts also rely on a relational sense of agency and identity (Mason 2004).
2.4 In emphasising relationality, this article draws on the work of Smart (2007), who has argued for employing connectedness as a theoretical lens. This can be set alongside individualisation, in that focusing on how people live their lives while embedded in relationships allows for a consideration of how these relationships are incorporated into accounts of choices and actions, while also allowing for the ways in which people can choose which relationships to maintain and how they can shape and reshape these over time. The overlapping core concepts which for Smart (2007) constitute the interiorities of personal life offer a useful approach for analysing the relational aspects of these accounts, and particularly for reflecting on how the self who is the subject of these narratives is conceptualised.
2.5 The idea of narrative identities uses an idea of a reflexive social self in process (Mead 1934; Jenkins 2008; Jackson 2010) and emphasises how people constantly reconstruct and renegotiate their sense of who and what they are through the stories they tell, both to themselves and to others (Somers 1994; Plummer 1995; Lawler 2014). The telling of stories relies on the use of narrative resources that are culturally available at that moment in time, to someone in that social location (Frank 2010), and thus the individualised narratives of growing up that involve taking more responsibility in terms of household work and becoming independent, as constructed by participants in my study, can be seen as a recognisable way in which incidents could be emplotted in household work narratives.
2.6 However, while narratives can draw on discourses of individualisation, Somers emphasises that our personal narratives are located within 'cross-cutting relational storylines' (1994: 607). Similarly Benhabib (1999) argues that we are born into pre-existing webs of narrative in which we start to learn how to make sense of ourselves, although we have the agency to draw on these narratives to construct our own life stories that make sense to us. Nevertheless, our life stories can be challenged; as Benhabib suggests, the characters in any one person's story are 'also tellers of their own stories, which compete with my own, unsettle my self-understanding, and spoil my attempts to mastermind my own narrative' (1999: 348). Understanding narratives as interconnected in this way means that they remain in process; they cannot have 'closure' because a connected narrative could always have an effect on the way in which one constructs a personal narrative.
2.7 Somers (1994) also points out that narratives are embedded in spatial relationships, and while that is not the focus of this article, I recognise the importance place can have for narrative identities (Taylor 2010). Community has specifically been shown to be relevant in previous studies of generations and household work that focus on class, for example, Luxton (1980) looked at three cohorts of working-class housewives of 'Flin Flon', a mining town in Canada, while Pilcher (1994) explored responsibility for household work across three generations of women living in South Wales. Mannay's (2014) work, which revisits Pilcher's study in contemporary Wales, uses a multi-faceted understanding of place to show how, in a deprived village affected by the loss of local industry, women who have taken on breadwinning roles also feel their 'place' is looking after the family home. This literature offers important examples of relational identities, in the sense that what it means for women to identify themselves as 'the "lazy but breadwinning Welsh mam"' (Mannay 2014: 35) relies on various comparison referents, both remembered and imagined in idealised terms.
2.8 This article argues similarly that household work narratives can be usefully conceptualised as interconnected and constructed in relation to other narratives, and will make a case for looking at the way in which women talk about their household work practices over the life course in terms of relationships to others, drawing on empirical data from a qualitative project exploring household work with two generations of mothers. In particular, this article will focus on how relationships with mothers shape accounts of household work practices, and conversely, the role household work plays within these ongoing relationships between mothers and their adult daughters. Furthermore, if we consider the person engaging in these household work practices over the life course, we can usefully consider the role that household work plays in personal narratives, as a way in which women conceptualise 'growing up'.
2.9 As I suggested above, literature on household work has shown the relevance of mother/daughter relationships and ideas of what it means to be a 'good' mother, when making sense of women's accounts of their housework and foodwork practices (Oakley 1974; Hochschild 1989; DeVault 1991; Pilcher 1994; Bugge and Almås 2006; Curtis et al. 2009; Meah and Watson 2011). However, I would argue that by thinking about household work as part of the personal life of these women, in the sense that it is a something that 'impacts closely' on them (Smart 2007: 28), and their changing sense of self, accounts of both individual responsibility and relational identities can be brought out further through a focus on how self-narratives are constructed around the theme of household work. In particular, the personal life concepts of biography, embeddedness and relationality (Smart 2007) can be usefully deployed to develop an understanding of how household work figures in people's personal lives.
The study
3.1 This article is based upon a study investigating women's household work narratives, and the fieldwork took place between December 2012 and February 2014. Participants were 24 British women who were interviewed individually.[2] This sample was comprised of 12 pairs of mothers and their adult daughters, who were themselves mothers of at least one young child, defined as 0-11 (see Table 1). The use of two generations from 12 families, rather than more strictly defined cohorts, means that there is only 6 years between the oldest younger generation participant, and the youngest older generation participant. While this approach allowed me to compare the narratives of mothers and daughters, and to reflect on intergenerational relations, I am not able to draw any conclusions about the experiences of any particular cohort.

3.2 Initial recruitment (6 participants, pairs 1-3) was through personal contacts, although the women I interviewed were not women I knew personally; other participants were recruited through advertising in schools, nurseries, libraries and on mailing lists. All but one of the interviews took place either at participants' homes, or for some of the older generation participants, at the home of their daughter.[3] Interviews were semi-structured qualitative interviews and lasted between 30 minutes and 1 hour 50 minutes. All but one of the interviews were audio-recorded and transcribed verbatim,[4] and participants (and any other people mentioned) were given pseudonyms which will be used in this article. The project complied with institutional ethical approval guidelines, and before each interview I explained the project and obtained informed consent to conduct the interview and analysis, and for quotes to be used in publications. A key concern for me was that in such a small study, any woman who chose to read any publications would be able to identify herself and her daughter/mother, and I have tried to be sensitive to this in deciding what quotes to include.
le 1. Table of Participants
Table 1a
Table 1b

3.3 The women interviewed were white British and heterosexual and all of the younger generation women were middle-class on the basis of their education and/or occupation. Some of the older generation participants could be designated as middle-class in terms of their training and employment in a professional role (six participants) or most recent employment in a managerial role (one participant). The other five participants had histories of no paid employment or part-time paid employment in lower status occupations, but three of these women were or had been married to partners in higher status occupations when they had young children (Jean, Kate and Hilary), while the other two (June and Maureen) were married to partners in manual occupations. Nevertheless, several of the older generation participants, including those who had been employed in middle class occupations, spoke about economic constraints at different times in their lives or growing up in working class families, and this points to the difficulties of unambiguously assigning a class location over time and between generations (Hockey et al. 2007). The participants recruited through personal contacts included pairs of mothers and daughters living in East Midlands, West Midlands and North Yorkshire. The other participants were recruited from different areas within a large city in the Yorkshire and the Humber region. In 8 cases, the daughter saw the recruitment advert and contacted me; in one case a mother contacted me, and her daughter lived in the same large city. Of the 8 daughters who contacted me, 4 of their mothers lived in the same large city; the other 4 lived in Northumberland, East Midlands, North Yorkshire and another part of Yorkshire and the Humber.
3.4 The transcripts were analysed using a Listening Guide approach (Mauthner and Doucet 1998). The first stage of this process involved multiple readings of each transcript with a different focus each time (reading for the plot and reflexive reading; listening for the voice of 'I'; reading for relationships; placing people within cultural contexts and social structures). Data on each of these readings was collated in individual documents for each participant, which included an outline of the overall narrative, recurring phrases and ideas, my reflections on how my experiences related to those of the participant, reflections on the use of different voices (I, we, you etc.) and 'I-poems'[5] produced from the data, reflections on how other people were spoken about and reflections on references to what I interpreted as broader cultural ideas and structural factors. Following this, Nvivo was used to code the data thematically across the sample, using the analysis from the existing readings as a starting point to look for recurring themes, discourses and narratives.
3.5 The Listening Guide approach is based on the Voice-Centred Relational Method, which is designed to 'bring the researcher into relationship with a person's distinct and multi-layered voice' (Gilligan et al. 2006: 255; see also Brown and Gilligan 1992). However, the more sociologically-informed Listening Guide approach, as developed by Mauthner and Doucet, challenges the original intention of accessing an 'interiority' (Brown and Gilligan 1992) through listening to the voices of participants, arguing that, 'All we can know is what is narrated by subjects, as well as our interpretation of their stories within the wider web of social and structural relations from which narrated subjects speak' (2008: 404). A Listening Guide approach lends itself to understanding narrated selves as relational, as reading for the voice of 'I' and how 'I' in the present reflects on 'I' in the past and in potential futures, and noting where the participant shifts between 'I' and other voices (such as 'we', 'you' and 'it'), can allow for a sociological understanding of how participants weave different perceptions of the self into narrative accounts. Hermans (2002) has also argued for considering how one negotiates between different 'I' positions at any given point in time, likening the multi-voiced self to a society reflecting multiple viewpoints. The rest of this paper will explore how participants drew on different discourses in the way they explained their attitudes to household work and accounted for particular practices, and how this was related to reflexive understanding of a self in process.
Growing up and taking responsibility: Narratives of household work and adulthood
4.1 The values of independence, responsibility and self-sufficiency were highlighted in various ways across accounts, which influenced how some women talked about their relationships with their mothers. Sally (pair 5, younger generation) talks about the occasions when she has lived with her parents as an adult and describes how,
'I live then as I live on my own, like I take, you know, responsibility and I'll do stuff around the house and I'll bring shopping in so I think she values that and sees that I do, that I don't take advantage of her'.
4.2 This is in contrast to her brothers who 'tend to just fall back into the pattern of like being looked after and being kids'. Sally's contrast between 'responsibility' and being 'looked after', with the latter as something inherently childish, draws on contemporary Western understandings of adulthood in which 'childish dependency on parental care is expected to give way at a certain age to independent adulthood, a pattern inscribed most readily through familial role expectation' (Hockey and James 2003: 167).
4.3 Growing up and becoming an adult is also understood to include thinking more about the effect of one's actions on others, replacing 'self-centredness with responsibility and commitment for self and others' (Blatterer 2010: 13). Nicola constructed a narrative of 'my journey from an absolute scruffbag to, I don't know, a mum', in which she made sense of a process of making an increasing effort to keep her house tidy and increased consideration of other people she lived with as 'starting to grow up a bit really'. As with other participants, her narrative draws on a natural process of maturation, but also constructs an agentic self that was able to think "no, this is it" and change her behaviour as part of a 'finding myself moment'. Reflecting on how Nicola used 'I' in different ways throughout this narrative highlighted how she makes sense of herself growing up, and demonstrates the conflict and negotiation involved between different 'I's in her story (Hermans 2002). For example, she notes how her attitude to tidiness has changed over time, which illustrates how Nicola in the present reflects on the actions and attitudes of Nicola in the past:
'Now it's things start to annoy me and grate on my a bit, whereas before I'd be like "pffft, whatever" and now I'm like "no I can't deal with this" and I'll have moments where I'm like "right, I'll just blitz things", which I never used to do.'
4.4 The recognition that 'blitzing' mess rather than ignoring it was beneficial in the longer term was evident for several women. Other participants spoke about 'keeping on top' of household work by doing a little every day or having a routine for various tasks, and having a system for keeping one's home tidy was presented as allowing more time for enjoyable activities such as spending time with children.
4.5 Similarly, this link between adulthood and responsibility was highlighted in the way that mothers spoke about trying to teach their children to 'think for themselves instead of me telling them what to do' (Eleanor, pair 6, younger generation). In terms of preparing their children to leave home, several younger generation participants emphasised the importance of children being 'independent' and 'self-sufficient', and able to look after themselves and their homes (including being able to cook for themselves, not bringing washing home and managing household finances). As Hockey and James suggest, full membership of Western society is considered in terms of 'autonomy, self-determination and choice' (1993: 3), and this discourse of adulthood shapes what the mothers in my study talk about their children needing to learn.
4.6 Participants also reflected on learning various household work practices from their mothers, such as sewing, cooking and ironing, and teaching these to their children in order to prepare them for leaving home. However, some of the older generation participants explicitly rejected my reference to their mothers (or grandmothers) 'teaching' them things; 'We didn't get taught it as such, you just did it' (Lynne, pair 12, older generation).[6] Reflecting on how she made sense of learning about housework, June (pair 2, older generation) usefully distinguished between being 'taught like "you'll do it this way"' and learning 'by looking and watching'. Expanding on the second of these, she said:
'I think you learn off your mum, to a certain degree. You know with like housework and this that and the other you see what your mum does and as you grow up you tend to do the same so it's like your mum's your […] like your mentor, like you watch her and you do what she does.'
4.7 Other participants also drew on both ways of learning, including accounts of being taught (particularly about food and cooking) and 'watching and imitating' or 'naturally picking up' other tasks, which was sometimes referred to as 'osmosis' (see also DeVault 1991 who similarly found participants using this language to describe learning about foodwork). However, several participants constructed narratives in which they made decisions to engage in household work that their mothers did not, and avoided simply unreflectively 'picking up' the practices they had witnessed growing up. For example, Hilary (pair 11, older generation) and Lynne (pair 12, older generation) spoke about how growing up in untidy houses made them want to achieve tidiness and order in their own homes. Similarly, younger generation participants talked about having different priorities which influenced their own practices, or working out their own systems that suited their lives.
4.8 These accounts can be seen as reflexive biographies, in the sense that each participant is individually making sense of what appear to be potentially conflicting interrelated factors in order to explain things like her attitude to household work and to account for particular practices. It is also evident that participants recognised that individual responsibility for household work practices is valued, and that they are trying to instil this in their children. However, Smart argues that a focus on individualisation directs the sociological researcher towards 'gathering information and evidence about fragmentation, differentiation, separation and autonomy' (2007: 189). By employing connectedness as a theoretical lens through which to view women's household work narratives, this article will move on to explore what Smart's (2007) conceptual approach can offer.
Household work and connectedness
5.1 This section explores how connectedness shaped women's household work narratives: firstly by outlining how participants accounted for their attitudes and behaviour with regard to household work and then by considering the role household work plays in maintaining ongoing relationships (and how household work is incorporated into more problematic narratives of constraint and conflict (Mason 2004)).
Self-narratives: Biographies and embeddedness
5.2 Drawing on the idea of 'linked lives', which views the lives of individuals as meaningful in the context of other lives, (Bengston et al. 2002; Elder 1994), Smart argues that people are embedded in webs of relationships that go beyond couple relationships, stressing the importance of vertical connections to children, previous generations and ancestors (although horizontal ties can also be considered; see Davies 2015). Individuals are seen to be taking forward parts of the past, which can be physical resemblances, skills and personal characteristics, or shared values. Thus people make sense of themselves in relation to others to whom they are linked in this way, which Lawler (2014) sees as the active identity work of 'recognition', between the extremes of complete choice or determinism. The idea of being embedded in relationships influences biographical accounts of oneself which rely on both personal memories and family stories (Thompson 1993). Focusing on narrative identities highlights how participants account for the way they do and think about household work in relation to what are viewed as inherited and 'natural' characteristics that are part of a stable sense of self, but also particular experiences that are emplotted into a biography to explain the practices of the self in the present.
5.3 Sociological work on inheritance shows how various attributes and behaviours are presented as inherited, and understandings of inheritance are developed from a variety of sources and may rely on contradictory discourses in relation to different questions (Edwards 2000). In my research, describing oneself in terms of inherited characteristics also extended to tidiness:
'I think the really interesting thing like with the family dynamic is actually I'm much more like my dad, personality-wise, but I seem to have got Mum's tidying things, whereas my sister is much more like my mum, she's like a mini-me of my mother to look at, the way she talks, everything, but just tidying she seems to have got my father's genes.' (Jo, pair 12, younger generation)
5.4 Jo also described herself as a 'naturally tidy soul', which is also how she presents her mother. The idea of mother and daughter as the same kind of 'soul' evokes a tangible affinity between them that goes beyond simply behaving in the same way (see Mason 2008). As with other participants in this study who use the language of genetic inheritance, Jo's idea that she and her mother are bound in this way allows for a fixing of a close relationship that is used to shape a personal narrative.
5.5 While 'natural' explanations did not resonate for all my participants, it was at least recognised as a way of understanding one's self in relation to household work. For instance, Nicola (pair 7, younger generation), who mentioned an inherited tendency towards untidiness, felt 'it was never something that came naturally' and later talks about making a 'conscious effort' to tidy up when she gets home from work. Nevertheless she says 'I've always just assumed it comes naturally to some people because I'm just, just being rubbish at it and hating it'. Ideas of 'natural' tidiness or untidiness could be read as evidence of different personality types. However, participants combined the language of natural characteristics and personalities with more relational accounts. Kim (pair 2, younger generation) described herself as 'a very organised person, so I kind of let everything get in a mess but it's always put back tidy and a place for everything and everything in its place' and she describes this as her 'personality'. She also links this to her job, explaining these personality traits as 'probably why I do accountancy as well because we tend to be quite [um] rigid people'. This suggests a strong sense of self, rather than behaviour tied to a particular place or context. However, Kim then frames her tidiness in a different way, drawing on a biographical understanding:
'I can't settle if it's not tidy. I blame that on my mum because our house is always, we could play but at the end of the day it was always put back tidy so it's kind of how I've grown up, how my nan was so it's kind of a generation thing in that's how I think we should be.'
5.6 Thus according to her narrative, Kim's 'personality' was partly formed through these family relationships, and allows her to frame her attitude to household work as not simply something she is individually responsible for.
5.7 Across the sample, biographies were seen as relevant to the household work practices of participants. For example, Fiona (pair 9, younger generation) describes how, because her parents 'divided the household work pretty well between them' and had paid help in the form of a cleaner, she and her brothers 'were never given duties or things as kids…we never had anything set'. Fiona suggests that her mother 'had in her mind when we were growing up…that we shouldn't give them [household work tasks] massive importance'. She recalls that her mother 'never offered advice then about getting in a routine with cleaning or anything', and this forms part of a narrative in which she remembers 'not having a very structured routine around it and [um…] never really feeling I was doing it very well' when she had her own place. For Fiona, 'growing up' included learning about the importance of a routine for doing household work, which she worked out when she was living on her own. In terms of her own mothering practices, Fiona emphasises that she wants her son to be involved in household work, and grow up with the 'mentality' that 'there are ways of everybody chipping in to make things better'. This connects her son's biography to her own narrative, in which she has grown up from somebody who felt overwhelmed by things that seemed 'too difficult' to someone who has a clearer sense of what she wants and who acts in particular ways to make things happen (such as actively trying to influence her son's approach to household work).
5.8 Other participants spoke about the biographies of their male partners, and explained their household work practices as adults in relation to how they were brought up. For example, Karen (pair 5, older generation) draws on her remembered experiences with her husband in explaining why she taught her sons to cook in order to prepare them for leaving home:
'I just thought back really to the fact of what my mother-in-law had done and thought that he, you know, John [husband] had come into the marriage with me unable to do anything really and that I didn't really want to put my sons into that situation, I wanted them to be able to do something.'
5.9 Karen's explanation of her husband's behaviour focuses on the role of his mother, and this has shaped how she explains her practices. This emphasis on mothers' roles was evident across several participants' accounts. Amy (pair 10, younger generation) describes how her husband 'wasn't taught to cook, he wasn't taught to clean, he wasn't taught to do anything by his mother', while she and her brother were involved in tasks including cooking, tidying, vacuuming, dusting, and washing and drying up. Amy draws on these biographies to explain their different approaches to household work, and as part of a narrative of her husband 'not noticing' what needs doing in the way that she does and doing cleaning tasks only if asked to do so. Thus her account of being 'selective' in what she asks him to do can be seen as an individual strategy in line with Beck and Beck-Gernsheim (2002), but by analytically drawing attention to connectivity, the way in which Amy makes sense of 'the difference between my husband and I' can be seen in terms of biographical accounts of what their mothers expected and encouraged.
5.10 However, growing up without being expected to do much household work can be part of a different story, as Kim shows:
'I didn't leave home till I was twenty seven and my mum did everything for me. So likewise I do everything for Joe and Molly [laughs]… I think that's kind of where I've kind of become the way I've become because it's kind of, it was always done for me so I expect it to be done for my children, for me to do it.'
5.11 Kim uses this aspect of her childhood as part of her story of why she behaves in the way she does, as other participants do in accounting for the behaviour of the various characters they introduce. These biographical stories can be seen as a way of accounting for one's present self, and thus past events are made sense of as part of a process of forming the self. As Smart (2007) suggests, stories about one's parents can be used in different ways as part of explanations of one's own identification and behaviour. Thus rather than seeing the behaviour of parents, and particularly mothers, as determining the behaviour of children, it is the process of telling the story of one's self that makes sense of these practices, giving them meaning in the context of the plot developed by the storyteller. In her interview then, Kim highlighted her own personality, but framed this in a relational context in which the way she was brought up has influenced her attitude to household work and her practices with her children.
5.12 While Smart's work focuses on personal relationships, what also emerged from my data was a sense in which participants drew on wider networks to emphasise the typicality of their biographies. As part of the second analytical reading (for different voices), I considered how 'you' was used by participants (aside from when it was addressed to me personally). Several older generation participants used 'you' to make sense of what were presented as 'normal' experiences, whether on a day to day basis in terms of household work, or as part of what transitions such as marriage and motherhood meant. For instance, Jean (pair 6, older generation) linked her experiences to other women of a similar age:
'Most of us went from being at home to being married. We didn't go away to university and things so you went from being looked after, and obviously you learn by observing what others are doing so you know, you learnt a lot like that.'
5.13 As well as constructing narratives that showed how they were embedded within a network of personal relationships, which involved comparisons to specific others, participants across both generations commented on ways in which they thought their biographies were likely to be similar and different to those of other, imagined women, who functioned as generalised others (Mead 1934; Holdsworth and Morgan 2007) as in the generalising narratives about the negative behaviour of other families described by Finch and Mason (2000).
5.14 What is evident here, and in the previous section, is that the narratives women construct to explain their household work practices draw on different discourses, including language of individual, autonomous choices and personalities, but also ideas of 'natural' processes across generations, wider shared experiences and practices shaped by particular relationships. While this shows various ways in which household work is linked to a sense of self, the next section will explore how these selves can be understood as not just having relationships and responsibilities, but as relational (Mason 2004).
Providing help and advice: Relationality in household work narratives
5.15 The concept of relationality expresses the idea that people are constituted through their close kin ties. As with the other concepts, and in keeping with her theoretical links to Morgan's family practices approach (2011), Smart stresses the active nature of relationality as a constant process, suggesting 'the term relationism conjures up the image of people existing within intentional, thoughtful networks which they actively sustain, maintain or allow to atrophy' (2007: 48). These processes of relationality depend on the quality of relations, not just their existence (Gabb 2008), and previous work has shown how caring acts between people work to maintain the relationship between them (see, for example, Ellis 2013). Finch and Mason's (1993) work on family responsibilities demonstrates that responsibilities between people develop over time through a process of negotiation, rather than being seen as an inherent part of a particular family or kin relationship.
5.16 In this study, the issue of help with, and advice about, household work was discussed in all the interviews, and this emerged as both a positive aspect of particular relationships, and as a source of tension in others. Within most pairs, the older generation participants in this study helped their daughters with household work in various ways, particularly when children were born, but also continuing this alongside providing childcare (for example, Nicola (pair 7, younger generation) spoke about how her mother 'does loads' when she looks after Nicola's son, such as vacuuming, cleaning and washing clothes. As well as practical help, several women also spoke about calling their mothers for recipes or help with cooking, and some mentioned getting advice about other household work tasks such as cleaning curtains or sewing. Following Smart's definition of relationism, these practices are part of the process of identifying as a mother and a daughter, and making sense of what this means in the context of one's personal relationships. Mason (2004) distinguishes between 'selves in relation' and 'relational selves', highlighting that the narrated selves are constituted through an ongoing process of relating to others. Thus the way in which participants as daughters made sense of ongoing help from their mothers reflects an understanding of motherhood as a relational identity, albeit one that changes over the life course of one's children.
5.17 Nicola's mother, Brenda, describes practically helping her daughter with household work, and explains that she does this because 'I see the, part of looking after Alfie is helping Nicola out with other things that she needs doing.' Brenda is identified both as a grandmother to Alfie, and a mother to Nicola, and the household work tasks that she does while looking after Alfie can be seen as mothering in the sense of meeting her daughter's needs (Lawler 2000). Mason et al. (2007) have argued that as parents as well as grandparents, the participants in their study had to achieve a balance between letting their children live their own lives by 'not interfering' and 'being there' to help and support them when this was wanted. Brenda's account shows how she makes sense of doing household work tasks for her daughter in terms of suggesting these were necessary for Nicola's well-being.
5.18 Some participants spoke about an increased closeness with their mothers, which was linked to becoming mothers themselves. Sally (pair 5, younger generation) suggests that her having her daughter Leah 'made us [her and her mother] really close', as they were both able to offer practical help and emotional support (her mother and father had recently split up when Leah was born). While Karen's help is focused on looking after Leah, she recognises 'I don't tend to go there and do housework in the same way'. She links this to when she had young children herself and how she appreciated someone looking after the children because it was nice to be able to 'get on with stuff you want to get on and do it in the way you want to do it'. This may be shaped by how Karen experienced her mum's helping when Karen had young children as in some ways problematic (for example, she mentioned getting 'agitated' that her mother would 'iron everything, absolutely precisely, where I wouldn't have bothered' and describe it as "I'm helping you" despite Karen seeing it as unnecessary). Thus Karen avoids doing tasks such as cleaning as a way in which she can 'not interfere', but at the same time can 'be there' to 'comfort' Sally when she is upset about Leah's behaviour (Mason et al. 2007). Nevertheless, she comments that 'if she asked me, if she said "Mum will you come across and clean for me one day?" then obviously I would'. Therefore if she would be helping Sally and meeting her needs by cleaning, this would fit into the mothering identity she constructs throughout the interview.
5.19 Bearing in mind that relationality is not an inherently positive concept, practical help with housework that was unwanted or that was carried out in a way that contributed to the identification of a daughter or daughter-in-law as a 'bad' wife could worsen relationships. Kate (pair 8, older generation) spoke about a difficult relationship with her mother-in-law, which included criticism of Kate's cleaning ('no matter how clean it was and tidy, she'd always look down her nose and criticise and say "oh I came, I had to do so much, your kitchen was a disgusting mess"') and taking it upon herself to clean items 'to make me feel embarrassed'. This subsequently affected other decisions, such as those around childcare, which was part of a narrative of constraint in which she was not able to continue working in the same job; as she put it, it was 'just not worth it' to ask her mother-in-law to watch her children, because she felt under pressure for the house to be 'spotless' if her mother-in-law was going to see it. Later in the interview, Kate explains how the way she helps her eldest daughter is 'not anything like how it was with my mother-in-law, you know her coming in and looking at vases and washing them to prove a point' which she describes as 'belittling'. Instead she emphasises that she asks her daughter if she wants help; 'I don't just walk in and say "right I shall do this and I'll do that"'. Although this does not relate to being a grandmother (as Jodie does not have children), the idea of not-interfering (Mason et al. 2007) is key here; any help from Kate should be requested or approved by her daughter. Returning to the role of biographies in accounting for women's selves and their household work practices, Kate's explanation of how she helps her daughter with household work is shaped by her experiences with her mother-in-law, and thus how she accounts for her mothering identity in the way in which she maintains her relationship with her daughter is framed biographically.
5.20 Some of the older generation participants reflected on household work as a problematic aspect of their relationships with their adult daughters. Lynne (pair 12, older generation) mentions her daughter Abby who had a 'horrendous' room when she lived at home, but suggests that she saw Abby's untidiness as an immature practice that could be changed. When Abby moved into her own place, Lynne mentioned that 'I really thought it would be lovely and she'd be inviting us occasionally for meals', showing how this relationship is imagined. However, the reality does not match this as she is not invited often (at the time of the interview, Lynne estimates it was nine months ago). From Lynne's account it seems that Abby is particularly concerned about her mother's opinion: 'And if I've got some stuff for her she'll say "can you send me Dad down with that stuff?", I'll say "well no, Dad's not available" "well can you come and keep your eyes shut then?"'. This does not appear to just be Abby's perception; Lynne comments that 'I find it very difficult to bite my tongue' and admits to giving advice like 'well it doesn't take much to keep it tidy like this'. The difficulties in Lynne's mother/daughter relationship with Abby seem to be partly based on expectations that having bought a house, her daughter would 'grow up' (in the sense of developing an identity of a responsible adult) and take care of her home. However, Abby's continued untidiness limits the extent to which she and Lynne can relate as equals, two adult heterosexual women who can enjoy spending time together, having meals in a 'lovely' home. Instead, Lynne appears to be trying to avoid maintaining a parent/child dynamic, but by implicitly trying to avoid being 'told off' for the state of her house, it appears that Abby is continuing to identify her mother as a 'nagging parent' and thus spoil Lynne's self-identification in this regard (Benhabib 1999).
Conclusion
6.1 This article has argued that looking at household work through the lens of both individualisation and connectedness can help us to explore this as part of self-narratives. Values such as self-sufficiency and independence are evident in the narratives participants constructed around household work, which demonstrate how the women I interviewed recognise how they are held responsible as individuals for managing household work practices, and making decisions. In addition, a focus on connectedness highlights various way in which their narrative identities can also be seen as relational, and this in turn shapes the ways that the self who engages in household work practices is conceptualised within these accounts. This article has outlined various other discourses that participants drew on in their self-narratives, including naturalistic links between generations, accounts of direct and indirect socialisation and broader shared experiences. In particular, this article has focused on how looking at the ways in which participants could be seen to be embedded in webs of ongoing relationships shaped how they made sense of their household work practices and how they constructed relational mothering identities through narrative accounts.
6.2 In considering the role household work plays in narrative of 'growing up', this article has also drawn attention to the ways in which household work practices can be incorporated when considering transitions to adulthood. Arguably the focus on household work in this study has shaped the narratives, which are constructed interactionally between the researcher and participant within the interview context (Elliott 2005). Nevertheless, existing literature suggests that adulthood is framed in terms of 'settling down' with a partner and having children (Blatterer 2010; Brooks 2010), and in this study, women's narratives of growing up often linked an increased consideration of, and responsibility for, household work to becoming a wife and mother and 'settling down' in this way. Contemporary understandings of standardised adulthood include independence due to having an income and living arrangements of one's own (Blatterer 2010), and this formed part of the 'growing up' narratives of some participants (such as those who distinguished between household work in student houses and in a home with their partner and children). Thus it may be useful to consider those who are adults in terms of chronological age, but are not cohabiting in couple relationships (such as studies of housemates, or adult children who have returned to live with their parents).
6.3 While this article is based on research with a small, relatively homogenous sample, I would argue that the themes highlighted are worth further exploration in order to continue to develop an understanding of connectedness and personal lives. A focus on self-narratives allows for a consideration of how household work can be incorporated into ways of talking about oneself over the life course, and as I have demonstrated, the seemingly mundane practices involved in household work can be viewed through different lenses. By viewing narratives of household work practices through a lens of individualisation, we can identify accounts of the 'choosing, deciding and shaping' self, while a focus on connectedness highlights ways in which this sense of self is also understood in terms of various remembered, imagined and ongoing relationships.
REFRAMING RESEARCH ETHICS:
Introduction
1.1 This article is premised on the idea that were we able to articulate a positive vision of the social scientist's professional ethics, this would go some way towards enabling us to reframe the notion of research ethics in the social sciences as something that is internal or, at least, more fully embedded within its constitutive disciplines, these fields of enquiry or, as I will have it, profession.[1] This perspective runs counter to the currently dominant view, one that is tied to perspectives on ethics that are external to social science as a professional form of enquiry, and where the discourse of research ethics is seen as offering an unbiased, non-partisan and, as a result, more objective form of normative analysis. This is something that is carried over into those aspects of institutionalized research governance that, through audit driven processes, purport to ensure research is conducted ethically. However, this conception of research ethics was originally developed in relation to biomedical research and has subsequently been applied to social science research (Schrag 2010). In seeking to question the utility of this conception of research ethics in relation to the social sciences my intent is, albeit at some remove, to mitigate the negative impact that the contemporary discourse of research ethics has had on social scientific research (Dingwall 2012; Hammersley 2010; Van Den Hoonaard 2011).
1.2 This essay proceeds as follows. First I suggest that, not only does contemporary research ethics have its roots in the governance of biomedical research, but the initial impetus for its emergence was the ethical challenges raised by the development of a disciplined program of biomedical research. These concerns included: the conduct of medical professionals; the potential for conflicts of interest to arise between the professional's clinical responsibilities and the demands of research; and the scope of professional medical ethics. Whilst research ethics – or, rather, the implementation of a procedural solution to the concerns of ethical research in the biomedical sciences – provided some resolution to these issues, we might ask if the same questions arise in other contexts, such as in social scientific research and, thus, if the same resolution is required. Whilst recognizing that some social scientific research is, today, conducted by those who have other professional responsibilities I suggest that, for the most part, social scientists do not labor under the same or even similar ethical conditions similar to those that initially gave rise to research ethics. As a result we are in a position to reconsider the ethics of social scientific research is whether or not they might be encompassed by the professional ethics of social science researchers.
1.3 In this light I suggest that whilst neither academia nor academics underwent a classical process of professionalization they – we – can be collectively considered as a profession in the moral sense of the term. This is what we might call a 'true profession,' the practice of which aims at some kind of higher good. Furthermore the nature of this good, and the practical requirements of its pursuit, gives rise to and shapes the distinctive ethics (or, more broadly, ethos) of a profession. As such, the ethical perspectives that have been developed without a full and proper recognition of this ethos, such as those that have been produced in relation to biomedical research, may be problematic when transferred to this domain.
1.4 Having presented some reasons for thinking that the social sciences, or 'research' more generally, might be construed as a professional activity I consider why, even as the discourse of research ethics has advanced, the idea of a professional ethics has not previously been given serious consideration. I first note that the professoriate pre-dates the emergence of the (true) professions and that one of the major benefits of such institutionalization, professional autonomy, was already granted to universities and those situated within them. Thus, there was no historical imperative for academics to collectively lay claim to professional status and, therefore, no impetus towards further professionalization. However, we might still consider what, if anything, the higher good of academia as a 'profession' might be.
1.5 In the first instance we can draw on the pedagogic and scholastic ends of the university. The dissemination of knowledge is obviously a social good embraced by the state. However, our concern is less with the educational mission of university professors than it is with the more recently developed notion of 'research.' The idea of the research university emerged in late 18th century Germany and was accompanied by a reorganization of knowledge into the disciplinary formation we currently take for granted and, on occasion, unreflectively naturalize (Wellmon 2015). In this context we might consider if research can be considered a professional activity, the pursuit of which involves some sort of socially sanctioned higher good. Whilst one might consider 'knowledge' as the required social value and end, it does not offer any normative guidance. Whilst it might bind together academics of all disciplinary backgrounds the pursuit of knowledge contributes little of substantive or practical value when we consider the ethical conduct of research. Rather, following Schrag, we should recognize that 'research' is not a singular activity (Schrag 2012), something that would mean that all researchers are members of one profession. We should instead consider the nature, motivation and ends of specific disciplines or disciplinary groupings and the endeavors, methods and methodologies associated with them. In this context, I argue that the social sciences can lay claim to a democratic ideal as its 'higher good' and, therefore, its guiding ethos or end.[2]
1.6 Given this end – democracy – social science research is persuaded not for its own sake or for the sake of knowledge in itself. Rather, its pursuit is rooted in the (admittedly diverse) socio-political needs of 'democracy,' understood as an ethos or normative as an end in itself. As with any form of government democracy is predicated on the exercise of power and control but, nevertheless, it is also distinctive; modes of government that embody the democratic ethos are normatively invested in the creation and promotion of a society that is able to understand itself. This is consistent with Shils' suggestion that "[t]he true calling of sociology is to contribute to the self-understanding of society" (Shils 1980: 76).[3] Of course we might also note that such social self-understanding will not be possessed by all citizens and, furthermore, its pursuit "is not likely to ever be a wholly consensual affair" (Shils 1980: 36). It seems, then, that social self-understanding is at least as difficult as self-understanding. More than this, it also seems that this task is "far more likely to be an act performed by only a few persons in that society" (Shils 1980: 36). According to Shils, sociologists are some of these few and, furthermore, this end – social self-understanding – is constitutive of the calling or vocation of the sociologist. What sociologists have to is a distinctive form of critical engagement, a 'social maieutics' (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992: 201-202) that has no other source. Thus sociologists do not merely produce knowledge about the societies they are a part of, they inhabit them. As such they are socio-political actors, embedded in a democratic context, and accountable to the normative landscape, structure and ends of that context – social researchers are accountable to what Bernstein (1998) calls the democratic ethos.[4]
1.7 Although, pace Dewey, Bernstein considers democracy to be a way of life, his discussion of the democratic ethos is focused on Habermas' "discourse theory of law and democracy" (1998: 289). Thus he presents the democratic ethos as something "that conditions and affects how discussion, debate, and argumentation are practiced" (1998: 290). This is an important aspect of what I have in mind. However, properly understood, the notion of a democratic ethos can be expanded beyond the constitutive norms that underpin (but do not determine) the political exchanges we find in Habermas' public square i.e. the discussions, debates, and arguments that concern questions of ethico-political significance. In this broader view, the democratic ethos is a set of values, norms and, perhaps, even principles that are constitute of a particular kind or sort of socio-political arrangement term 'democratic'. Given Habermas' concerns, it is understandable that Bernstein focuses on political debate. Nevertheless, understood as a way of life, the idea of democracy and the democratic ethos is something that conditions and affects more than debate. It should be understood as underpinning the broader social, cultural and institutional contexts within which such debates take place. Furthermore, it should be seen as shaping all contributions to such discussions, including the knowledge generated by (social) scientists. Thus the view presented here positions the social sciences as part of that broader context and, therefore, as normatively informed by the democratic ethos.[5]
1.8 Whilst the notion of a democratic ethos might be seen as a somewhat tenuous basis or foundation for a profession and its ethics, it is consistent with the complexity we find in the ideals of the classic professions. For example, health is a similarly amorphous ideal that, nevertheless, serves as the end of medical practice. Furthermore, properly understood, the nature of confidentiality is consistent across the true professions of law, medicine, the clergy and, I will suggest, the social sciences. Whilst the discourse of research ethics has reconstructed it as a function of respect of autonomy, the professional commitment to maintain the confidence of patients, clients, parishioners (especially the penitents of the Catholic faith) and, I suggest, research subjects is, in fact, primarily adopted for methodological, and therefore instrumental, ends. Certainly, once it is has been promised confidentiality takes on an ethical dimension. Nevertheless, it essentially functions as a methodological commitment. As such, the promise of confidentiality is collective commitment; one that is not only made by the relevant profession but by the society or, better, the state that that recognizes it. Following Luban (2007) I suggest that this, and not simply the fiduciary relationship between professional and client, is indicative of a true profession.
1.9 In the final section of the paper I consider what, if anything, might follow if we consider social science from the perspective of a professional, rather than research, ethics. Building on the idea that the social sciences are guided by a commitment to democracy I suggest the Clinical Ethics Committee (CEC) might provide a better model for considering the ethics of social science research than the Research Ethics Committee (REC).[6] The reason for this is that RECs are organized and constituted in such a manner that they can be considered representative of our contemporary culture of audit. As Strathern has pointed out ethics is "frequently enrolled to justify auditing practices" whilst also being vulnerable to being "betrayed by or in resistance to them" (Strathern 2000: 5). Conducting research in a manner that is ethical does not imply that research must be auditable as much as it implies researchers should be accountable (Emmerich 2013).
1.10 Thus, when considering how best to understand the ethics of social science research we should consider how we might structure and institutionalize research in such a way as to promote such accountability among and on the part of researchers. Taking the CEC as a model would mean researchers engage is a more discursive and dialogical debate about the ethics of their research rather than merely 'getting ethics' (Chadwick 2015) or seeking to ensure their proposals 'pass' ethical review. Similarly committee members would be able to more fully engage with researchers and the ethical dimension of their research rather than merely applying (ir)relevant 'local precedents,' complicating information sheets, or spotting minor grammatical errors (Stark 2013; Stark 2011). Whilst CECs are certainly engaged with bioethical thinking, they are not colonized by it. The constitution of CECs is such that they maintain and promote ethics and ethical reflection in practice. Thus, engaging with this approach does not represent another reiteration of 'bioethical imperialism'; it is not a case of just another 'biomedical approach' being applied to the ethics of social science research. Rather, it represents an opportunity for the social science community (or profession) to exercise a greater degree of control over the ethics and ethical governance of social research whilst also being open to the input of others. This can including scholarly analysis from non-social scientists, such as (bio)ethicists, as well as the perspectives of research participants and organizations that purport to represent them.

The Historical Roots of Research Ethics
2.1 Whilst research ethics came of age with the advent of bioethics and, more specifically, the publication of the Belmont Report and Beauchamp and Childress' Principles of Biomedical Ethics (2009), its roots can be found in the early history of the National Institutes of Health, Bethesda, Maryland circa 1950-1960. In presenting an account of these origins I draw on the work of Stark (2011) and Schrag (2010) who convincingly claim that the origins of ethical review of research should be located as this time and place. Their work uncovers something of the particular concerns that motivated these developments that, for the most part, are not replicated within the social sciences.
2.2 Whilst the origins of medicine as a specialized and scientific endeavour can be located in the early 18th century, and its subsequent trajectory can be traced through the 19th century,, the mid-twentieth century saw two significant developments. First, biomedical researchers were beginning to make use of placebo-controlled trials and, second, they were beginning to study healthy human beings as a sui generis phenomenon, not least when they were used as controls for the aforementioned trials. Both of these endeavors raised particular and relatively novel ethical questions. In the first instance, there was a realization that the interests of biomedical researchers may substantially differ from those of patients. In the second instance, conducting research on healthy individuals meant that the therapeutic basis of the doctor-patient relationship, the foundation of medical ethics, did not obtain. The divergent ends of research and patient care produced the distinct potential for a conflict of professional interests.
2.3 In Behind Closed Doors (2011), Stark examines the research ethics that arose as part of the advent of research on healthy volunteers over the course of the 1950s at the Clinical Centre of the USA's National Institutions of Health (NIH). This institutional and geographical specificity leads her to term the focus of her research an 'ethics of place.' Conducting research on healthy volunteers not only brought into being a new class of patient – what Stark and the NIH researchers of the 1950's called the normal patient – but also created a new type of physician, the physician-researcher. However, unlike other categories of physician that of 'researcher' was not positioned as a specialty in its own right. Rather it is an endeavour that some medical professionals pursue and do so in relation to their own field, an activity undertaken within the confines of one's clinical specialty. This remains the case even when they are conducting research in relation to 'normal patients.' For example, nutritionists based at the NIH studied the short and medium term effects of different diets on healthy individuals. As Stark puts it rather than being defined by some malaise, malfunction or illness the normal patient was defined as such in virtue of being the site of medical examination and intervention; by their status as an object of medical inquiry.
2.4 Given this context there was no impetus to formally codify a new professional ethics and, given the potential for conflicting perspectives between those from differing medical specialties, every reason not to do so. Instead, the NIH responded with a procedural approach to the ethics of research titled 'expert review' or 'group consideration.' As an essentially bureaucratic endeavour this approach to ethics could be layered on top of existing doctor-patient relationships without disturbing them. The ethical relationship that obtained between medical professionals and those they cared for was left untouched by an ethics that did little more than review research protocols. Similarly, such an approach positions both 'researchers' and 'research subjects' as objects, abstract placeholders that 'stand-in' for concrete, actual or 'real' individuals. This was an appealing strategy not only because no professional therapeutic relationship obtained between normal patients and researchers but because it was consistent with the epistemology of scientific research. Taken collectively, these points suggest why it was that, once it has been institutionalized with regard to research on normal patients, group consideration came to be applied to biomedical research more generally.
2.5 In the context of biomedical research the therapeutic nature of the doctor-patient relationship comes to be seen as a source of bias. Thus, researchers adopt a variety of methodological strategies that introduce a degree of distance between the researcher and the research subject. For example, notions regarding the need for research to be blind or double blind, as well as the randomization of participants and the need for placebo controls, are all suggestive of the way research enacts the objectification of research subjects. It is, therefore, unsurprising to find that that the process of ethical review institutionalized at the NIH is not only consistent with the way distance between the researcher and research subjects was being produced but that it is symbolically reproduced and reiterated in this new context. Thus 'group consideration' – the initial practice of which could include interested researchers i.e. those involved with the research being reviewed – gave way to the disinterest of 'expert review.' Whilst the methodology of review remained essentially the same, it was now conducted by those uninvolved with the research at hand. Those involved with particular research projects were now positioned as sources of bias, and a threat to their ethical integrity. This, what we might call a quasi-objectivist perspective on ethics, is the opposite of what we find in professional medical ethics. In this latter context, where the therapeutic relationship is seen as the foundation of ethical responsibility and, whether majority or minority, the CECs opinion is merely something for those involved with the case to consider.
2.6 The formal development of biomedical research as a programmatic form of enquiry furthered the emerging separation of biomedical research from the clinical practice of medicine. However, this objectification runs counter to the intimacy of the doctor-patient relationship and, therefore, to the professional ethics founded upon it. As such both biomedical research and its associated ethics exhibits significant potential to conflict with the accepted norms and ethics of professional medical practice. One way to resolve this conundrum would be to position research as an 'extra-professional' activity. However, beginning with Beauchamp and Childress' Principles of Biomedical Ethics (Beauchamp 2009),[7] it seems clear that the substantive, and not just procedural, content of research ethics has become highly influential in the sphere of professional medical ethics. The contemporary discourses of professional medical ethics and biomedical research ethics are clearly intertwined. Thus insisting that clinical practice and research differ insofar as one is an activity undertaken by medical professionals as such, whilst the other is something undertaken by biomedical scientists, resolves little. The conundrum merely reappears elsewhere; if they differ, why is it that there is an evident relationship between the substantive ethics both medical professionals and biomedical researchers adhere to?
2.7 An alternative resolution would be to accept that biomedical research was, or has become, a professional activity in its own right. In this view the notion of an ethics of research was been developed in order to manage the potential conflicts of interest and actual ethical tensions that arise in the planning and pursuit of research. This, it seems to me, has the virtue of being both historically accurate and consistent with our common sense of the field; biomedical research is an activity undertaken by medical professionals who are acting as such. The conclusion we should draw is that whilst it is commonly presented that way, the substantive ethics of biomedical research are not fully distinct from professional medical ethics. Furthermore, the particular administrative format(s) with which it is associated, first group consideration and subsequently expert review, acts to disperse or distribute the ethical responsibility that accrues to both the individual researcher and the profession as a whole. The objectification of research, researchers, research subjects and their relationships facilitates such collective and procedural decision-making and, therefore, the management of potential and actual ethical conflicts and tensions. This has obvious value in regards the elimination of bias and claims regarding the objectivity of the ethical perspective that results. Nevertheless, it contrasts with the ethics required when acting in particular social contexts; situations which cannot be subject to the same level of objectification and where such procedural approaches to ethics may themselves be sources of ethical concern.
2.8 Whilst the specific ethics of research has been the subject of further development is has not altered the focus that biomedical research provided. Nevertheless, the remit of research ethics has gradually expanded beyond biomedicine and now covers all 'human subjects research' broadly defined. However relatively little consideration has been paid to the differences between biomedicine and the social sciences. Furthermore, whilst one might think of the social sciences as taking the equivalent of healthy individuals or 'normal patients' as their research subjects, on fuller reflection this cannot be maintained. The normal patient is constituted by and through the fact that they are collectively distinct from those usually subject to medical interventions: patients. There is no such contrast to be found in the social sciences. Thus social scientific research does not present the same inherent potential for ethical conflicts. The responsibilities of social scientists are generated through relationships that, for the most part, are produced by the conduct of research alone. There are no other professional commitments with which they are in tension and with which they might conflict. Nonetheless, despite having significant potential to be conducted on the basis of epistemological paradigms (or moral economies) different to that of the biomedical research, social science remains subject to the same procedural approach to ethical review. One way to challenge this 'ethical imperialism' (Schrag 2010) is to consider if the social sciences are in need of a specific ethics of research or if a viable professional ethics might have sufficient scope to address the issues and concerns found in the contemporary literature. If we are to do so we must first consider if social scientists can be considered professionals in the required sense.

Professionals and the Professoriate
3.1 As Wilensky (1964) foresaw, we live in an era when everything, and everyone, has become subject to the discourse of professionalism. It is, one could say, the guiding ethic or moral norm of modern life, at least 'in public.' In this context the council does not employ Bin Men but Waste Disposal Professionals and the criteria for a good tradesman is not just their ability to do the job and to do it on time, but their professionalism; the way in which they conduct themselves as they perform the tasks they are employed to do.[8] Such notions are, however, insufficient to formally ground a professional ethics; neither Waste Disposal Professionals nor the world's best plumber has any such thing. Thus, we should distinguish between the classic or true professions, the variety of auxiliary professions or 'occupations' and the contemporary moral norm of 'professionalism.' Whilst these relatively simply divisions stand up to scrutiny the picture is undeniably more complex than they imply. For example, it is indisputable that medicine is a classic or true profession. Nevertheless, the notion of professionalism is clearly a central concern of the contemporary literature on medical ethics, particularly the more 'internal' literature focused on practice and education (Cruess, Cruess, and Steinert 2008). However, this is not the place to explore the current dialogue between professionalism and professional ethics, whether it be those of medicine or any other true profession.[9] Rather, our present purpose intimate that we distinguish between the classic or true professions and those that are merely auxiliary.
3.2 In formal discussions of the classic professions the focus is generally on medicine and law however, in reflecting on the nature of the classic or true professions, we should also include the clergy and the military. In discussions of the ethical dimension of professions it is common to find the suggestion that it is, in some essential manner, predicated on the existence of a fiduciary relationship between professionals and their patients or clients (McCullough 1998; 2004). The nature of such relationships is that they are supposed to give rise to the particular ethical duties bourn by professionals and, therefore the professional ethics of medicine and law as a whole. However, in the case of the clergy or the military, it is not clear that such relationships exist. Whilst one might suppose that a priest has fiduciary duties with respect to his parishioners, it is less a matter of individual relationships than it is with respect to the parish, and the congregation, as a whole.[10] Similarly, unless one construes the head of state as an 'individual' rather than the embodiment of a nation, the military cannot be positioned as having any fiduciary relationships comparable to those of doctors and lawyers. Clearly, unless we are to eliminate or otherwise ignore the military and the clergy from the list of the true professions, there must be some alternative to 'fiduciary relationships' that acts as the foundation for their status.
3.3 In his essay 'Professional Ethics' Luban (2007) gives some sense of what this foundation might be. He argues that we ought to restructure our conception of professional ethics from one that has two-levels to one that has four. A two-level conception presents professionals as acting in the interest of their clients. However, professionals do not pursue such ends without constraint; they do so according to the broader norms, principles and rules that guide their practice. This picture accounts for – but does not necessitate, explain or justify – the existence of a fiduciary relationship between professionals and their clients as individuals. Luban presents an expanded account via the introduction of two additional levels. He suggests we should move our focus beyond that of individual profession-client relationships, and the values, norms and principles that are positioned as guiding professional practice at the coalface. Instead we should consider the way that the role of the professional, and professions as social institutions, is collectively specified at what we might consider a socio-political level. Here, the existence of professions and professionals are justified because 'society,' and not just individual clients, values the ends of a profession. The social institutionalization of the professions facilitates their ends. In the case of medicine and law the ends can be considered as 'health' and 'justice,' whilst those of the clergy and the military are, respectively, 'the glory of god' and the (existential) security of the nation state. Such ends are shared, which is to say valued, by society more generally.[11] Given that the values and goals of true professions are shared by society as a whole, society formally accommodates such professions so that, at least ideally, they can pursue these ends with the greatest possibility of success.
3.4 At this point it is worth turning away from trying to specify the nature of a true profession and consider if there is a prima facie case that academics in general, and social scientists in particular might be considered professions and professionals of this kind. It will surprise no one if I point out that the terms profession and professional are related to the term professor. All are connected to the idea of someone who not only has knowledge but also professes it. Whilst the clergy and the military can be thought of as pursing the ends of their professions in the good of their parish and the state respectively, legal and medical professionals place their specialized and technical knowledge in the service of discrete individuals. In so doing they put the interests of their clients, or their patients, above their own. The sense in which academics 'profess' differs slightly; they do not profess knowledge in the service of others, but in order that others might learn what they know. The notion is connected to the medieval idea of the university, when universities were repositories of knowledge, and those who inhabited them were its stewards (Wellmon 2015). Their function was to hold knowledge in trust for the good of society, humanity and, we might add, the glory of god. Whilst we might think of the pedagogic endeavours of the early university as a professional activity, such claims would be unavoidable anachronistic. As used here, the notion of a profession and a professional cannot really be thought of as having currency until the 19th century. Furthermore, given that we are not primarily interested in the educational activities of academics, but the disciplined practice of social science research, there would be little value to the claim that we are professionals on this basis; we must do so on the basis that academic social scientists engage in 'research.'
3.5 In the contemporary sense of the term 'research' did not become a formally identifiable activity undertaken by scholars with university positions until the late 19th century (Wellmon 2015). Furthermore when they, and the idea of a research university emerged, there remained a good deal of 'amateur' scholars. These were often Victorian gentleman, such as Charles Darwin, someone who stands as an exemplar of such individuals. However we must, again, be wary of apply the contemporary terms to the past. Whilst, today, the professional is considered superior to the amateur this was not the case in the 19th century.[12] As they were remunerated for their endeavours it was the professional's motivation that was called into question, whilst the amateur's motivation was understood to be pure, and connected to the activity as an end in itself. As such it was the professional who could be called into (moral) question. In contrast, our contemporary conception of the amateur suggests an enthusiast or hobbyist – an individual who is motivated by some kind of personal or subjective interest(s) rather than the objective reasons of professional practitioners. Whilst there may be no moral question about the character of amateurs it is clear that, today, the social status of professionals is the greater.
3.6 Properly, which is to say sociologically, speaking the contemporary professional is a member of an institutionalized and disciplined community who practices with direction and purpose. Certainly personal interests can initially motivate an individual to become a professional researcher, and certainly such interest persist once an individual becomes a professional, however such interest become sublimated to, or disciplined by, the social structures and collective ends of a community of academic researchers. Whilst we need not think that the amateur is incapable of making any significant contributions to knowledge, they nevertheless exist on the periphery of the disciplinary field, the norms of which stand as the ultimate test of any contribution they might make.
3.7 As indicated in the previous paragraph the foundation of the research university – something that is vital to the idea of research as a professional activity – is associated with scholarly ideas about epistemologically defined subjects, disciplines and, therefore, the emergences of distinct disciplinary communities. Not co-incidentally, this approach to the social organization of knowledge and knowledge creation was consecrated around the same time and place as the advent of the social sciences. The emergence of the disciplines and disciplinarity began a process of dividing academics and reconstructing their identities. However, whilst the institutional community as a whole began to fracture – think of the two cultures written several decades after this process began – it meant the emergence of coherent academic communities organized around disciplines. Such formations are not defined by their subject matter alone, but by their approach to such matters; by the ways in which they generate knowledge and, indeed, know. Or, to put it another way, disciplines are identified by the epistemologies and methodologies they bring to bear on their subject matter(s). As such they are collectively constituted by and structured around a set of shared practices regarding the creation and development of knowledge. Disciplinary practices are therefore predicated upon on a shared body of technical and specialized knowledge, something that they have in common with other professions. Whilst, today, many such disciplinary communities contain a number of sub-disciplinary groupings, even to the extent that some sub-groups may rarely encounter one another, this does not pose a challenge to the idea that they might be considered as shared professional identities. After all, one could say the same about certain specialisms in both law and medicine.
3.8 Whilst we can take the emergence of disciplines and disciplinary sub-specialisms as an indication that academic research communities might be thought of as social groups of a professional disposition, more is needed if we are to think of them as true professions. One could, again, lay claim to the pedagogical activities of modern universities and their central importance to the knowledge society. But, again, this does not provide sufficient foundation for the claim that research itself is a professional activity. In order to make this claim we must, I think, focus on the social sciences in more detail.
3.9 The methods of the social science are not unique, at least not in the sense that they are without historical antecedents. Nor are they used by those we would call 'social scientists' alone. Rather, the methods of the social science originated in the methods of the bureaucratic state. In turn these methods can be found in the social organization of post-feudal societies; in the administration of the realm of kings, and the tasks undertaken by their emissaries. Furthermore, particularly in the case of revolutionary France, the advent of the bureaucratic state is synonymous with the advent of modern secular democracies or, at least, the conditions that gave rise to them (Kafka 2012; Rosanvallon 2007). Thus, in the first instance, the social sciences draw on the information made available by the bureaucratic state – indeed, brought into existence by the bureaucratic state, – and used it to produce further insights. The classic example of this is Durkheim's suicide (2002), a founding text of sociology as a disciplinary formation. In the second instance, social scientists make increasing use of these methods created by the bureaucratic state. However, when they do so they not only also pursue a greater degree of methodological rigor but have also developed conceptual and theoretical tools that allow for critical insight and engagement.
3.10 Thus, whilst it not only remains a matter of degree but varies across both academic and non-academic domains, the social sciences are distinctive insofar as they exhibit a high(er) level of reflexivity (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992: 183-184). Whilst the bureaucratic state is concerned with the practical accomplishment of the everyday life of the state, with the administrative tasks themselves, the social sciences are concerned with something a little deeper; with the accumulation and development of not only knowledge, insight and meaning but ways of producing knowledge, insight and meaning both with the discipline itself and, more broadly, as an object of research and a concern of researchers. Furthermore, without leaving ourselves committed to the view that that the concerns, values or ends of the social sciences are immediately meliorist we might think that such concerns, values and ends express a commitment to society, to self-understanding, self-comprehension and, therefore, to our own betterment, even if that commitment sometimes, perhaps even oftentimes, means we might learn uncomfortable truths.
3.11 Such a perspective suggests that there is a connection between the social sciences and the modern, secular, liberal democratic states. Obviously this connection is not a matter of necessity, Bauman's (1991) study of the Holocaust stands as a convincing demonstration that it is all too easy to turn the basic methods of the social sciences into instruments of genocide. However, whilst I have only gestured towards the connection between the social sciences and democracy, there is further support within the literature (Van Bouwel 2009; Bourdieu 2004). Furthermore, many see social research as having a fundamentally ethical character (Bellah 1983). This connection is not, of course, simple. The social sciences are not any one thing. However, they are, we might say, predicated on the democratic ideal of pluralism, on remaining open to alternative perspectives and being responsive to criticism. In short, the social sciences are not wedded to any one instantiation or particular iteration of the bureaucratic state, but to the democratic ideals that provide the foundation of some bureaucratic states – the social sciences are consistent with the ethos of democracy.
3.12 Pace Shils (1980) the social sciences might be considered the critical conscience of a society, something Sieghart (1985) has argued in regards the (true) professions in general. In this view the state and the social sciences share a commitment to the same concerns, values and ends. One might, with some justification, consider this point as appealing to a rather undefined ideal, one that lacks the sort of specificity that would provide concrete direction to social scientific researchers. However, if one considers the guiding principles of law, medicine, the clergy and the military as well as other, less well-institutionalized, true professions such as education, journalism and social work, we find similar ideals with similar ambiguity. For example, the pursuit of the guiding good of medicine, health, has become the subject of concern not only insofar as medicalisation has both positive and negative consequences but insofar as health itself has the potential to dominate human life (Downing 2011; Metzl and Kirkland 2010). Similarly whilst law might involve the pursuit of justice the practicalities of how this is to be accomplished are not only complex but require a host of compromises. Furthermore, whilst we might think further education is always a good thing it cannot be endlessly prioritized over other pursuits. Finally, and with regard to both individuals and society, education is a transformative endeavour, the effects of which are never entirely clear. We might conclude then that whilst we value our highest ideals as ends in themselves, this does not imply that their pursuit will always have welcome consequences.
3.13 Further confirmation of the suggestion that social science can be considered a true profession something that is lead by an ideal and subject to a concordat between it and its host society – can be found by comparing the function of confidentiality in the professional practice of law, medicine and, I would suggest, social science research. If they are to pursue their professional ends, which is to say serve the interests of their clients/ patients with regard to the broader pursuit of justice / health, both lawyers and doctors provide clients/ patients with assurances of confidentiality. The principle is, certainly, an ethical one and it is present in the Hippocratic Oath. However, it is an ethical principle because it has been promised and, furthermore, it is promised because the ends of justice and health are served by doing so. The ability of such professionals to make these promises, and to do so in good faith, is quite possibly the primary requirement and consequences of the mutual beneficial arrangement that exists between society or the state and the true professions. As such confidentiality is first and foremost, a methodological principle, adopted in the interests of good practice and end served by the professional practice at hand. The discourse of research ethics rarely considers confidentiality as anything other than an ethical principle stemming from the duty of researchers to respect the autonomy of their research subjects. This is misguided. We must recognize that the confidentiality we promise in practice is only tenable insofar as it can be collectively guaranteed.
3.14 Before continuing it is important to note that such collective agreement does not necessarily imply it has any formal existence in the sense of being recognized in law. Thus, in the UK for example, the idea of doctor-patient confidentiality is not the subject of any legal protection. Rather it is an aspect of the quasi-legal framework for Good Medical Practice set out by the General Medical Council (GMC). Given the institutional existence of the medical profession medical doctors are in a better position to maintain the confidentiality of their patients than social scientists. Or, to put it another way, the socio-political life of the medical profession is such that both officials (and the public) are more likely to respect the duty of confidentiality when medical professionals appeal to it than they are were social scientists to make similar claims. Nevertheless, it remains the case that a judge can order a doctor to testify in the same way as they can compel the testimony of any other individual, say a social scientist who has gathered data on a criminal enterprise during the course of their research.
3.15 Of course, that the state has provided no formal assurances with regard to the confidentiality of participants in social science research, means we could attribute the current difficulties regarding social research, state intrusion and the assurances of confidentiality given to research participants to this fact. No socio-political agreement has been reached, implemented or institutionalized and, despite recent events surrounding the Boston College Tapes, the issue has barely been broached.[13] As such, rather than reject the notion that social science is a profession one might take the view that social scientists are best understood as members of an un- or insufficiently recognized profession. Of course, even though there have been cases where social scientists have come under pressure to break confidentiality, we should recognize that this could have happened many more times in the past that has in fact occurred. Researchers are not acting in bad faith when making promises to research participants about confidentiality. Nevertheless, pace Lowman and Palys (2013) analysis of British sociology, pressure on confidentiality in social science research seems to be increasing. Indeed, what Lowman and Palys show is that confidentiality is only as strong as the degree to which we, both individually and collectively, are prepared to commit to it.

3.16 Confidentiality is a methodologically vital part of social science research and, if it is to be promised in good faith, it must be provided for through some kind of collective socio-political agreement between 'the profession' and its host society or state, as is the case in other professional domains. Properly speaking, only once it has been subject to such agreement can it be considered as a valid ethical commitment, one that can be offered in practice. Nevertheless, researchers have little choice but to continue to promise confidentiality to participants in their research, and attempt to ensure it through anonymization and other techniques of deidentification, as doing so contributes to the veracity of the data that can be collected, and thereby acts to secure the ends of research. Regardless of such practices it is clear that the tendency of RECs to perceive the anonymity and confidentiality of research participants as an ethical shibboleth is, at best, misguided. Not only should it be seen as a methodological principle and its presence or absence should, therefore, be subject to methodological – rather than ethical – justification. It is unethical of RECs to insist that research participants should be provided with the kind of assurances as to the confidentiality of their participation, as is currently the case. In the present climate such assurances cannot be maintained and, therefore, many such promises are invalid. As a matter of methodology and ethics both researchers and RECs need to more clearly think through when, where, and to what degree confidentiality can be offered and maintained. Only then can research participants be considered fully cognizant of the potential consequences of participating in research. Furthermore, social scientists should engage in a collective deliberation about the need for (and limits of) confidentiality in research, both internally and externally. In short, they should lay claim to research ethics as a matter of professional ethics and, one this basis, and whether in the person research participants, the public or the state, they should engage others in a broader discussion of the ethics of social science research and how they can be secured.
What Difference would a Professional Ethics make?
4.1 Whether as a whole or as more focused disciplinary formations, social scientists may not wish pursue a full-scale project of professionalization and, indeed, may be well advised to avoid doing so (Timmons 2011). Nevertheless, there would seem to be value in the collective analysis and articulation of a professional ethics. Whilst this is not the place to pursue such a project we might legitimately consider what the effect of doing so might be. After all, despite being largely neglected by those we might consider to be 'research ethicists' and the burgeoning 'research ethics' literature, there is a longstanding tradition of discourse and debate on the ethics of research by social scientists (Barnes 1977; Nash 1974; Rapoport et al. 1974; Sieber 1982; Kimmel 1988; Rynkiewich and Spradley 1976; Cassell 1987). In my view we might take such work as the collective expression of professional responsibilities of social science researchers by social science researchers and, therefore, as a 'first take' on the professional ethics of social science researchers. Laying claim to such work in this way, and to the discourse of professional ethics more generally, will mean that others – be they ethicists or, more importantly, stakeholders such as those working in research governance, university administration, funders bodies (especially research councils), gatekeepers and the public or relevant publics – will be more inclined to listen to and respect the claims being made.
4.2 The notion of a professional ethics also has implications for the ethical governance in social science research. As such, whilst the previous discussion can be construed as a somewhat 'post hoc' justification for the suggestions made below it can, nevertheless, be seen as adding a reasoned motivation for pursuing these same suggestions. If we predicate the validity of professional ethics on the notion that the social sciences share a commitment to the ends of democracy then support can be found in a variety of scholarly discussions about the relationship between democracy and the social sciences (Van Bouwel 2009) as well as the UK's recent Campaign for the Social Science.[14] Furthermore, we might note that that the first principle set out in a working paper produced by recent project aimed at developing generic ethical principles for social science research conducted under the aegis of the UK's Academy of Social Sciences (Dingwall et al 2014) it explicit about the notion of 'a free social science' being 'fundamental to the UK as a democratic society.'[15] The nature of this principle is such that it lays claim to a number of factors considered signifiers of a profession. In the first instance a free social science is, it would appear, a relatively autonomous social science. Whilst funding for research is not without conditions, and whilst the overall direction or topics of some research projects are dictated externally, this need not be taken to undermine the professional autonomy of social science researchers. A good deal of funding is distributed on the basis of proposals made by researchers and, when pursuing research proposed by others, social scientists should ensure that their professional or disciplinary standards are maintained. Similar commitments can be found in recent discussions of 'integrity' in the natural, biomedical, and social sciences.
4.3 Given the disciplinary and methodological diversity of the social sciences one might think that any professional ethics needs to reflect the diversity of professional practices. This is, for example, what we see in the case of the UK medical profession. Whilst the overarching professional body, the General Medical Council's (GMC), sets the profession-wide standards of professional ethics and 'Good Medical Practice' there is a range of associations, societies, and, in particular, Royal Colleges that also articulate standards appropriate to particular areas, specialisms and sub-specialisms. It would, I think, be misguided to position statements pertaining to more focused domains of medical practice as, simply, reiterations – or even mere 'contextualizations' – of the more general perspective set out by the GMC in its publications. The ethics of professional practice can, indeed should, be such that it is able to accommodate the need for a practical or pragmatic diversity in the ethical standards that guide practice. This is not, of course, a claim that 'anything goes' or indeed a justification for the existence of outright contradictions in ethical guidance. Rather it is, simply, to recognize that the ethical requirements of a profession as a whole need not be an entirely aligned, and that there may be a justification for the adoption of alternative perspectives in professional sub-domains.
4.4 This kind of view has been adopted by the Academy working group that produced the common principles working paper (Emmerich 2017). The aim is not for the various Learned Societies that are members of the Academy to simply adopt the statement or its principles. Given the range of interests represented by the Learned Society Members of the Academy there is clearly a need for a broader engagement with the principles generated by the Academy project and for individual or overlapping Learned Societies to reiterate them in such a way as is appropriate to their disciplinary or sub-disciplinary practices, interests and requirements.[16]
4.5 The medical profession can provide further instruction on how we might approach the ethics of research as a matter of professional ethics. Whist the social contexts in which medical professionals' work includes ethical codes and formal guidance they remain the locus of practical moral responsibility. When medical professionals encounter ethical difficulties they must make, and be able to justify, their own decisions. This remains the case when they consult CECs. In so far as they contain expert and lay members such committees can be considered as parallels to RECs. However, rather than receiving formal proposals CECs generally engage with clinicians directly and on the basis of an oral presentation of their concerns. CECs then discuss the case and do so with the individual concerned and, in certain cases, discussion might also include other individuals who are directly involved. Furthermore, whilst CECs might offer substantive comment or even make a recommendation, it remains the clinicians responsibility to act upon them or, indeed, not to do so.
4.6 It seems to me that, given social science researchers do not have to manage the same kinds of conflicts of interest that arise in the conduct of biomedical research and that the social sciences often operate according to an epistemology that differs from that which operates in the natural sciences, that the CEC model might provide a better model for engaging with the ethical dimension of social scientific research. Whilst the majority of social science researchers have substantial proposals for particular research projects this does not, in itself, justify a bureaucratic approach where researchers complete formal applications to RECs. There is no ethical reason why a researcher could not present their research proposal to a REC in person and do so in such a way as to promote a dialogical focus on the ethical dimension of the proposed research. This could be taken as an opportunity for, in the first instance, researchers to justify the ethical aspects of their proposal with reference to the specific disciplinary norms that guide their work as professionals. The subsequent discussion would, of course, offer critique or raise additional issues as necessary. Such committees could, if they saw fit or if it were considered helpful to do so, produce a written comments or recommendations but, in so far as they are justified in doing so, the individual researcher could proceed within the boundaries of their own professional ethics.
4.7 One might counter that the demands of good governance are such that this approach to research ethics cannot be supported. However, we should discriminate between 'ethics' and its administration or 'governance' or, to put it another way, between what I have previously called the accountable and the auditable (Emmerich 2013). Having done so we might reflect on both the positive and negative consequences of an institutionalized bureaucratic approach to the ethical governance of social science research (Van Den Hoonaard 2011; Emmerich 2017). In so doing we can consider the ethics of this particular facet of our audit culture and, furthermore, do so in relation to the social value of social scientific research. If we wish to see social science researchers conducting themselves ethically and we think that ethical governance ought itself be conducted ethically then, to my mind, a less bureaucratic approach – one that does not audit research proposals but engages with researchers dynamically – has much to recommend it. Given that CECs are consistent with the good governance of medical practice, such an approach should be considered and, perhaps, trialled in social science research.


JUSTIFICATION ANALYSIS: UNDERSTANDING MORAL EVOLUTION S IN PUBLIC DEBATES;
Introduction
1.1 The argument of this paper is that in public debates, over a wide variety of issues and across different political contexts, participants tend to justify their arguments using a relatively limited set of moral principles. They do this to rally potential supporters and convince potential opponents by envoking principles that are widely shared - although interpreted in varying ways - by the participants in the debate. Following Luc Boltanski and Laurent Thévenot, we outline a typology of these principles and show how they form the common basis for justifying arguments in debates over two very different issues (globalization and local politics) and two political contexts (Finland and France).
1.2 We make a contribution to two sociological literatures: the recently reinvigorated literature on the sociology of morality on the one hand, and the methodological literature on analyzing 'framing' in textual material on the other. The empirical study of human morality – once presented as the core task of sociology by the likes of Emile Durkheim (1912; 1893) and Edward 



Westermarck (1908) –is experiencing a renaissance. Empirical studies on morality are now conducted by social psychologists (Haidt 2012), anthropologists (Robbins 2012), political scientists (Abulof 2013) and increasingly, again, by sociologists (Hitlin and Vaisey 2010). In sociology, the most important development in this field is the emergence of the 'sociology of valuation and evaluation' (Lamont 2011), on the rise in the US (eg Fourcade 2011; Stark 2009) and Europe (eg Adkins and Lury 2011; Blokker 2011). These recent approaches address morality through both theoretical currents and empirical phenomena topical today, and connect the traditional sociological conceptions of morality to e.g. questions of justice, the world society, risk, work and family, economics, or the body (see Hitlin and Vaisey 2010).
1.3 Perhaps the most important discursive field where competing moral evaluations are presented in modern democracies is the mass media. Opposing political parties, interest groups, social movements and other political actors present competing claims, and justify them based on a set of moral principles. The participants in public debate need to provide legitimate answers for questions like 'why is the problem you are addressing important' and 'how does the solution you propose contribute to the common good', in short, justifications for their claims. The growing literature on moral sociology, however, has hardly looked at media texts, let alone presented a framework for systematically analyzing the use of moral principles of evaluation in the public sphere. Developing such methods is the aim of this paper. The literature on the methodology of text analysis, on the other hand, has remained rather superficial with regard to the moral content in media texts. The concept most widely used for analyzing the grounds given for political claims in the public sphere is that of a 'frame'. Much work in sociology, political science and media studies has looked at how political actors frame their claims (Kriesi et al. 2012: 237; Koopmans & Statham 2010; Entman 1995). In this literature 'moral frames', if present at all, play a marginal role. For example, according to one widely used definition, a moral frame is one that 'contains a moral message or makes a reference to morality, God and other religious tenets' (Neuman et al., 1992). Neuman et al. contrast moral frames with four other kinds of frames, namely, economic, responsibility, human interest and conflict frames. Studies using their framework tend to systematically find that moral frames are the least common kind, even when the topic of the debate analysed is one that could intuitively be thought of as 'morally sensitive', such as asylum seekers or climate change (d'Haenens and de Lange 2001; Dirikx and Gelders 2010).
1.5 To arrive at a broader understanding of the moral content in public debates that contributes to the development of the sociology of morality, we draw on a foundational text in the field, De la justification by Luc Boltanski and Laurent Thévenot (1991). Following Boltanski and Thévenot, we argue that justifying a claim, say, in economic terms, also amounts to taking a moral stand. To say that policy option A should be chosen over B because it is more beneficial in economic terms is not just a neutral, practical statement (or a practical way of 'framing' the claim). It amounts to taking the moral stand that money is a relevant measure of worth and ought to be privileged when policies are evaluated.
1.6 This becomes especially evident in situations when monetary gain/loss is juxtaposed with some other measure of worth, such as equality. Some participants in a debate may argue that economic considerations should come first, while others may take the stand that equality, for example, in education or healthcare ought to be prioritized no matter what the cost in economic terms. This kind of conflict between economically justified arguments and those using equality justifications is, indeed, a moral conflict.
1.7 In this paper, we propose an analytical framework, Justifications Analysis (JA), that bridges the literatures on moral sociology on the one hand and 'framing' political claims in the public sphere on the other. The need to work at the intersection of these two literatures arose during conversations we had while working on two independent studies, one on the globalization debate in the mass media in Finland (Ylä-Anttila 2010), and the other on local political disputes in France and Finland (Luhtakallio 2012). We were struck by the similarity of justificatory repertoires in these two very different issue fields and two political contexts. Differences, of course, existed, but it became clear they could be fruitfully understood in a broader framework of underlying similarities. That is, the differences were about combining and interpreting the same principles, rather than differences that would render the two issue fields and political contexts incommensurable. Inspired by these observations, we proceeded to organize a series of international workshops with the research group led by one of the two original developers of Justification Theory, Laurent Thévenot. The result of these workshops was the operationalization of our sociological intuition into the systematic analytical framework presented in this paper (see also Luhtakallio & Ylä-Anttila 2011).
1.8 The paper proceeds as follows. First, we present the typology of moral justifications proposed by Boltanski and Thévenot and show how it can be operationalized to systematically analyze political claims in the public sphere. We then go on to demonstrate the usefulness of the method through two research examples, first on the globalization debate in Finland and then on local political conflicts in Finland and France. Finally, we discuss the usefulness and limits of JA, and its implications to the further development of the sociology of moral evaluations.
From justification theory to analysing public debates
2.1 Let us imagine a situation where city A announces that it is going to close down day care centre X. Parents whose children attend day care in this centre engage in a public struggle to save it from closing down. How can they justify their claims in public discussion? In what different ways can they argue that saving the centre serves the common good? Following Boltanski and Thévenot (1991), they have at their disposal at least the following seven principles of worthiness for building justifications for their arguments. These orders of worth – that all refer to the common good, although in different ways – are based on different philosophical foundations concerning moral worth.
2.2 Inspired worth. 'The children's creativity flourishes because the employees of the centre emphasize arts in the day care activities and create an inspiring atmosphere with their devoted approach to nursing'. The most well-known representation of inspired worth is St. Augustine's The City of God (Augustine 1972[1470]), in which spiritual commitment, independence and indifference towards both market goods measured with money and personal dependencies are considered worthy. In addition to religious devotion, this conception of the common good can be embodied, for example, by an artist or an environmentalist inspired by the greatness of nature (Boltanski and Thévenot 1991: 201).
2.3 Domestic worth. 'The day care centre has been the heart of the neighbourhood for decades and its leader is respected by the whole community'. An important philosophical formulation of domestic worth can be found in the works of the eighteenth-century French philosopher Bossuet (1967 [1709]) and is based on tradition, personal relationships, inherited status, intimacy and hierarchy. A paradigmatic worthy person is a patriarchal head of the house or a prince who rules his subjects accordingly. This principle is also deployed when an argument is based on a position in a hierarchic institutional structure (Boltanski and Thévenot 1991: 207-208, 212, 215).
2.4 The worth of fame. 'The day care centre is well known and established by a famous, award-winning paediatric.'. The worth of fame is drawn from Hobbes' Leviathan (1999 [1651]). The measure of worth is the recognition gained from as many followers as possible. Celebrities and opinion leaders are therefore worthy figures (Boltanski and Thévenot 1991: 223-225).
2.5 Civic worth. 'Children have the right to proper day care, and if this centre is closed down the children of the neighbourhood will be forced into an unequal position compared to other children in the city.' Civic worth is most clearly present in Jean-Jacque Rousseau's work The Social Contract (1997 [1762]). Solidarity, equality, the will of the people and collective wellbeing are ideas that invoke respect. Worthy persons are collectives, rather than individuals, and worthy things are mutually agreed conventions (Boltanski and Thévenot 1991: 231-233, 237, 240).
2.6 Market worth. 'Day care organized in small units will cost less than in larger ones'. Market worth is sketched out by Adam Smith in his work The Wealth of Nations (1776). Worth is measured simply by money. Worthy persons are those who possess the most fortune, and worthy acts are the ones that promote the production of the most material goods. The common good is a byproduct of profit (Boltanski and Thévenot 1991: 244-245, 250).
2.7 Industrial worth. 'The day care centre network has been designed by experts. It has been planned according to studies showing the benefits of small day care units to the development of the children's language capacities'. The industrial order of worth values efficiency, planning that leads to efficiency, regulation, and scientific expertise. Saint-Simon is the classic political philosopher whose work presents this order of worth at its purest. A typical worthy person in this world is a skilful engineer who can design systems that work efficiently. Equally important is the measuring and design of social processes (Boltanski and Thévenot 1991: 252, 254, 259).
2.8 Ecological worth. 'If the day care centre is closed down, parents will have to take their children to day care at greater distance from their homes, often using their cars. This will increase pollution and accelerate climate change'. Ecological order of worth is a principle that gives intrinsic value to nature and the natural environment, as well as their protection and conservation (Lafaye and Thévenot 1993).
2.9 These orders of worth form a relatively well institutionalized cultural toolkit for justifying claims in public debates[1] by offering shared coordinates for actors, and therefore operating as means for reaching agreement. Thus, in any given non-violent conflict situation, all parties would be to some extent forced to acknowledge this variety of conceptions of common good, even if there was disagreement over which justification prevailed, or how. In the latter case, when the disagreement occurs within one order of worth, all parties agree on the criteria of justification, but disagree whether they are fulfilled. This is the case when, for example, actors agree that the procedure that produces (or saves) more money should be chosen out of two suggested procedures, but disagree on which one does; ie whether closing or keeping the famous day care centre is economically profitable to the city. In the case of two principles of worth clashing against each other, the conception of the common good based on one principle of justification is criticized according to criteria based on another; eg rather than the profitability of the day care centre, the basis of the decision should be the equal treatment of children living in different neighbourhoods.
2.10 One of the key features in working with JA is taking into account the relations of different orders of worth within one argument. Boltanski and Thévenot consider these relations as denouncing (dénonciation) and compromising (compromis) principles of justification. There are, however, other ways of combining or relating different justifications; for example, the fictional example above can also serve for a case of different justification principles operating as arguments for one and the same claim without directly influencing each other.
2.11 In JA, the unit of analysis is a claim, an act made in public (cf. Koopmans and Statham 1999). A claim can be a statement to the reporter, but also, for instance, a speech, a published report, a letter to the editor or a demonstration. Thus, a typical newspaper article contains numerous claims by different actors. Table 1 presents the coding of two claims from our two sets of research material. The first claim is reported as follows: 'Protestors from all around the world have arrived to Seattle, attempting to prevent the meeting of the World Trade Organization (WTO). In their view, WTO's free trade policy will increase economic inequality in the world'. The second claim is reported as: 'The tenants of the city of Helsinki worry about their rights. In their view, the city's plan to narrow tenants' rights to participate in negotiations will result in the city raising rents'. Justifications Analysis breaks the claims into the following elements:


Table 1: Coding a claim in Justifications Analysis

Who: Speaker
To whom: Addressee
How: Means
What: Content
Why: Justification
1: Civil society organization/ international

2: Civil society organization / local
1: Intergovernmental organization / international

2: Political establishment / local
1:Demonstration


2: Statement
1:WTO meeting must be stopped

2: Tenants have the right to participate in decision making on rents
1:Civic +
Market -

2:Civic +
Market -

2.12 In JA, we code the claim makers (speakers) and addressees, as well as the means of claimsmaking and content of the claim. The core of the coding is the following three justification variables: the worth that a given claim refers to, whether the reference is positive or negative and the potential combinations of different justifications.
2.13 As is apparent by now, the most pronounced difference between the typical uses of "framing" as the basis for coding public debates and JA is that in the latter, the codes are not identified inductively from the data, but are based on a more or less fixed set of justification principles. Leaning on such relatively stable principles makes the approach particularly suitable for comparative research, as we will demonstrate in section 4, comparing Finland and France (see also Lamont and Thévenot 2000). Seen through the lens of JA, the public sphere is an arena of contestation between competing moral principles. Studying public debates from this point of view becomes an exercise in understanding the moral constitution of modern societies as much as dissecting the details of particular debates. With JA, the moral principles that guide different political actors and projects are brought to spotlight. Thus, we want to stress the importance of understanding the consequences of the tools used in social research. It is crucial to develop and deploy sociological tools capable of bringing to light the moral components of, for instance, economistic public talk that likes to portray itself as morally neutral.
Research example: The globalization debate in Finland
3.1 How do certain arguments become successful in media debates? In this section, we will show that Justifications Analysis can be useful in addressing this question. We argue that success can be achieved by justifying one's claims by invoking moral principles that are acceptable to potential allies and in some form, also to opponents. Thus, we look at three measures of success: (1) the salience of certain arguments and justifications, (2) the adoption of these arguments by a wide range of allies and (3) the acceptance of the arguments by potential opponents.
3.2 The research material used to illustrate these points is a sample of newspaper articles on globalization in Finland between 1999 and 2005[2]. The mass media debate on globalization began with the challenge presented by the Global Justice Movement (GJM) that staged mass demonstrations and shut down the meeting of the World Trade Organization in Seattle in 1999. The activists forcefully made the claim that the current form of economic globalization results in prioritizing economic growth over just distribution and that the system of governing globalization is not organized according to democratic principles. These claims raise two kinds of civic justifications, those prioritizing equality and those prioritizing democracy, and denounce justifications that prioritize economic worth. '
The diverse NGOs…were all against the WTO's idea that trade will generate wellbeing to the whole world…The activists want to limit free flows of goods, money and people, referring, for example, to human rights and environmental norms.' HS 5.12.1999
3.3 These justifications proved to be strong enough to politicize the concept of globalization and start a debate over the kinds of moral values that current processes of economic globalization and current institutional structures for governing these processes, such as the WTO were advancing. The mentions of the word globalization in the news went from 16 per year on average between 1988-1998 to 150 in 1999 and 508 in 2005 – that is 1,4 times every day (see Table 2).

Table 2: Frequency of the keyword globalization in the news, 1988-2005

Year
N
1988-1998
16*
1999
150
2000
255
2001
417
2002
297
2003
223
2004
458
2005
508

* Average frequency per year during the 10-year period


3.4 Moreover, globalization became a phenomenon that was mainly discussed in the light of its implications for justice and democracy, rather than, for example, its economic implications. Table 3 shows that 82 per cent of claims made about globalization in our sample were justified in civic terms, while only 55 per cent were justified in market terms. By our first measure, the salience of the issue of globalization and the share of civic justifications in the debate, the GJM and its arguments were successful.

Table 3: Share of claims using each justification, 1999-2005 (%)

Justification
Share (%)*
Domestic
2
Fame
3
Civic
82
Market
55
Industrial
18
Ecological
10
N
1217

* The total shares add up to more than 100% because each claim can include several justifications


3.5 The arguments of the GJM and their justifications were also successful in a second sense: they were adopted by a significant number of influential political allies. But in order to achieve this success, the GJM activists had to adopt a wider repertoire of justifications. A simple denonciation of economic worth from the perspective of civic worth – saying that globalization of the economy is bad and globalization of justice and democracy is good – would not do. Instead, the main argument of the movement became that 'to advance the common good, global markets need democratically agreed rules of the game'. This argument is based on thinking that three orders of worth, economic (growth of the world economy), civic (democratic means of agreeing on the rules) and industrial (regulation based on scientific planning) can support each other.
3.6 This version of the argument for global justice and democracy was successful because it invoked a set of justifications that appealed to a wide range of political actors. A Green Party MP argued:
'Our aim is to create global rules of the game that curb the restless movements of capital and the unemployment and insecurity that are consequences of these movements' (HS, 26 September 1999).
3.7 These kinds of arguments also found some resonance in the Trade Unions, in Finland and internationally, and made their way to the very top of the political hierarchy. The President of the Republic, a Social Democrat, headed the International Labour Organization's World Commission on the Social Dimension of Globalization with the President of Tanzania, Benjamin Mkapa. The two presidents argued, in an op-ed on the publication day of the Commission's report:
'Just globalization requires building international institutions that represent the interests of all…We must prioritize sustainable economic growth…social goals and just rules of trade and finance.' HS 25.2.2004
3.8 A particularly interesting variant of this type of argumentation was the idea of the so-called Tobin Tax, also known as the currency transaction tax. The idea was promoted by the French-born global justice organization Attac that became very successful in Finland upon its launch. The idea was to make global financial markets generate wealth for humanity (market justification) by establishing a democratically controlled institution (civic justification) that levies a cleverly engineered tax on currency transactions (industrial justification) and redistributes the wealth to development needs globally (civic justification). This combination of three justifications, as we have seen, was successful in itself in many ways. In addition to this winning combination, the success of the idea of the Tobin Tax was further helped by adding yet another kind of justification – that of fame. The tax was initially proposed in the 1970's by the economics Nobel Laureate, James Tobin. Not only was he a world famous authority on the financial markets, but also a mainstream neoclassical economist. His fame and scientific authority thus went far beyond the left wing social movement organizations that resurfaced his old idea.
3.9In a poll in 2001, 70 per cent of MPs in Finland were in favor of the Tobin Tax (Ojala 2001). In 2015, quite some time after the resurfacing of the idea in the late 1990's, the European Union was in the process of adopting a version of the tax (Strupczewski 2015). The idea, thus, served as a discursive tool to the Global Justice Movement activists to draw mainstream attention to their other demands, but also succeeded in changing legislation.
3.10 Finally, the 'rules of the game' argument was also successful in the third sense of the term introduced above: it convinced not only allies but also many initial opponents. The acceptance of the idea of the Tobin Tax across party lines was one example of this. Another one was an op-ed by the Finnish representative of the International Chamber of Commerce, an organization very much in favor of the kind of free trade agreements that the GJM initially rose to oppose. For a while around the turn of the millennium, the acceptance of the rules of the game argument and its triple justification of market-civic-industrial, was so successful that even this former opponent felt the need to say:
'Businesses do not want to see deregulation leading to savage markets…the liberalization of world trade must continue, but in an internationally regulated and controlled manner. The WTO and UN are examples of institutions which can develop common rules of the game.' (HS, 27 May 2001).
3.11 In sum, Justifications Analysis is useful for understanding why some arguments become successful in public debates. When political actors are willing and able to modify their arguments to lean on a wide enough range of moral justifications and thus resonate with a wide range of allies and sometimes opponents, they are more likely to succeed.
Research example: Local disputes in Finland and France
4.1 In our second research example, we analyse local disputes between citizens and city officials. The data consists of reports of such disputes in local newspapers in Helsinki and Lyon[3]. Local newspapers have a particularly strong role in providing their readers with tools to imagine and re-imagine the community they live in, and representing the 'common' in terms of disputes over the common good (cf. Thévenot 2006). Therefore, in order to understand the definition struggles concerning the common good comparatively, we asked what kind of disagreements attracted public attention, and how they were represented in these newspapers. Construction plans and sites, zoning, and different public services were common sources of conflict, but more explicitly value-laden topics like minority rights, interpretations of laws, and grounds for legitimate decision-making were also often debated. The themes of dispute also varied between the two contexts[4]: In Helsinki, the big issue at the time of the study were budgetary cuts targeted at the school network. In Lyon, the foci were multiple. Some topics that attracted much attention were the installation of parking meters and abolition of free-of-charge parking, the living conditions and the right to education of the children of undocumented immigrants, and the repeated disappointments and difficulties met in the work of neighbourhood councils. The topics of dispute were, nevertheless, not the most captivating point of comparison. Instead, it was the ways in which different positions and opinions were justified in the local public spheres in Lyon and Helsinki.
4.2 When a group of parents in Finland opposed the city's plans to close down a local primary school, they claimed that the plan was based on inaccurate demographic statistics. When a group of residents in France opposed plans to install parking meters to their neighbourhood, they grounded their opposition in claiming that the city's plan was unjust and treated residents of different city districts unequally. Overall, the Finnish claim makers relied most willingly on arguments based on expertise, efficiency and scientific knowledge. The French claim makers counted most of all on argumentation based on equality, justice and solidarity. These justifications, based on industrial worth in the former case and civic worth in the latter, were the most prevalent in the articles dealing with local disputes. They also formed the central axis describing the differences between the Finnish and the French data.
4.3 Civic justifications appeared in their purest form in the claims of civic actors who stipulated the fulfilment of rights and democratic rules and laws, as illustrated in the following claim from the French data:
Demonstrators against assaults on the freedom of expression: The demonstrators protest against police violence, arbitrary arrests and abusive imprisonments in recent demonstrations, because these are attacks against the basic rights and liberty of expression (LP, May 19, 2005).
4.4 The abovementioned protest built on the idea of shared democratic values and mutually agreed rules: police conduct was denounced solely on the basis that the freedom of speech and other basic rights cannot be neglected, as they are principles of high civic worth. It was not denounced, for instance, by insisting for more efficient training of crowd management in the police forces, which would have been an industrial justification.
4.5 Civic justifications were also recurrently combined with other justifications, a feature that brought up significant differences between the two contexts. In the Finnish context civic and industrial justifications were often combined, as in the following excerpt:
The teachers' union wants to clear out the legality of school policies in Vantaa. The local teachers' union insists that the legality (civic) of the planned cutbacks in schools have to be re-examined (industrial), and that the municipal council must further debate the matter (civic), because saving money through cutbacks leads to impossible working conditions for teachers (industrial), and possibly to practices violating the law on primary education (civic) (HS, April 27, 2005).
4.6 Industrial justifications were common in both contexts, but in the French data they were hardly ever used as the single justification, but rather in combination with others. In the Finnish data, in contrast, a citizen group could ground its claim solely on industrial worth and thus fully utilize the 'expert card', as in the example below:
The Finnish Nature Protection League and a local environmental association claim that the city's proposition of gasworks cannot be built as a power plant as planned, because recycling waste in this way turns it into an incineration plant, which requires the installation of specific types of filters (HS January 18, 2005).
4.7 Even though few citizen justifications deployed the industrial justification to this degree, references to statistics and scientific studies recurrently formed a central part of the argument in the Finnish data.
4.8 In the Finnish disputes, both citizens and city representatives eagerly invoked the industrial order of worth in their arguments. The same holds for civic worth in France. In the Finnish data, a quarter of the citizens' and almost half of the city representatives' justifications were industrial. Hence, both sides relied on justifications based on efficiency, quality and expertise. In the French data, more than a third of the citizens' and nearly half of the city representatives' justifications referred to civic worth. Common denominators were justifications based on law, civil rights, deliberation and solidarity. The industrial worth in Finland and the civic worth in France formed, respectively, the 'common ground' – an array of justifications that both sides of the dispute considered either right and suitable, or strategically reasonable, if not unavoidable.
4.9 This 'common ground' did not mean resolution or consensus. Instead, it produced what Boltanski and Thévenot call tests, in which the opponents argue on similar grounds. The following examples from the Finnish data illustrate this by way of a dispute portraying a compromise between industrial and market worth.
A: The representative of the municipal education department asked for constructive suggestions concerning the reduction of the number of schools – if the school spaces cannot be objects of cutbacks, something else will have to be cut, because as the number of pupils will decrease in the future (industrial), the price per capita (of primary education) cannot rise (market).
B: The citizens call for more clarity in the calculations (industrial) and actual need for saving (market), as the statistics and prognosis concerning the number of pupils are currently controversial (industrial) (HS March 9, 2005).
4.10 The citizens attempted, firstly, to prove the city representatives' industrial justification wrong by claiming that their calculations were based on inaccurate statistics, thus relying on the very same statistics instead of, for example, holding the city representatives accountable for trampling upon children's rights by referring to statistics. Secondly, the citizens questioned the market justification made by the city by calling for proof of this 'austerity argument'.
4.11 In the French data, disputes took a similar form, but often within the civic order of worth, testing its criteria:
Gerland and urban planning: the encounter of inhabitants and representatives
A: The inhabitants of Gerland demand that the decisions concerning the area's urban development have to be made in accordance with their demands, because in a democracy, the representatives must follow the will of the people, and listen to what they want, and the citizens' words have to be taken into account.
B: The councilor in charge states that a consensus has to be found, and that the councilors have to make the basic decisions after which the citizens can be consulted, because the councilors have been mandated for decision-making (LP April 21, 2005).
4.12 The inhabitants appealed to general rules of democracy in justifying their claims about the plans – instead of, for example, relying on industrial justifications about efficiency and suitability of the plans for their district. In fact, their justification resembled a 'democratic governance check list', one not very concretely connected to the case at hand. The representative, on the other hand, questioned the inhabitants' interpretation of democracy, and used a civic justification to construct a claim for representative democracy.
4.13 The 'common ground' we observed in these local disputes leads us to reflect upon the impact of political culture: different justifications appear to be culturally successful in Finland and in France. Be it a library threatened of closing, or heavy savings targeted to preliminary schools, the Finnish mode of argumentation often treated these as questions of efficiency and technical expertise. Or, when they did appeal to civic justifications, they emphasized legality and contracts more than solidarity and rights. In the French data, civic worth had more amplitude, and justifications based on civic worth emphasized the aspects largely missing from the Finnish disputes.
4.14 In sum, using JA to analyse the local disputes helped us to discover the "toolkits" of local and national political cultures that everyone knows how to use, or at least understands to be essential in public debate. The different grounds of justification in the two contexts provided for different grounds of raising the level of generality, and politicizing. The civic justifications seemed to be closer to the arenas of politics altogether, whereas the technical facts the Finns argued about were sometimes neutralized to a point in which it seemed it was a mere misunderstanding between two experts whether a library should be closed or not. So, in the newspaper representation of local conflicts, the crucial conflicts resided in different worlds – in France, in the civic world, in Finland in the industrial world – making them very different conflicts with very different consequences altogether. The matter-of-fact, engineering-like industrial worth was the 'common ground' on which the parties of the Finnish local disputes understood each other the best, whereas the civic world with its groundings on solidarity, equality, and fairness were the most common 'meeting point' in the French conflicts – the city representatives used civic justifications even more abundantly than the citizens. This analysis drew portraits of 'the civic French', relying on solidarity-based justifications, and 'the industrial Finns', trusting in rational-functional justifications.
4.15 In both cases, however, the citizens seemed to be somewhat forced to justify on the shared grounds. The French were stuck with continuous 'reality tests' within the civic world, accused of being too 'domestic', or civic in a wrong way by their adversaries. The Finns were prone to back up even the strongest civic justifications with industrial 'facts', and however capable they were of expert argumentation they still were on the defense. Thus, in both cases, even if the citizens got their voices heard in the newspapers, they were the underdogs that had to try all possible arguments in order to convince the opposing party.
4.16 As for the implications of such analyses, they enable an in-depth discussion on the relationship between national political cultures and democracy, and therefore a comparison of the moral groundings of democratic practices and the opportunities for politicization. In other words, they tell not only about whether, but also about how does democracy work or fail in different contexts.
Theoretical contributions to further development of the justification framework: Subcategories and combinations
5.1 Above, we have shown how justification theory can be operationalized to analyse public debates. Our empirical studies using this approach also point out possibilities to further develop the theory itself. The most central notions in this regard relate to, first, the possibilities of dividing and combining the orders of worth and, second, identifying power relations, and henceforth the contextual opportunities to open issues for politicization, and to succeed in bringing forth one's arguments in the public sphere, by asking who gets to define which of the orders are dominant.
5.2 Most methods of textual analysis, including several variants of discourse and frame analysis, derive their categories inductively from the research material. One typical example of the type of findings such studies tend to report are the 'five predominant frames' which 'emerge from the interactive relationship between social movements and the mass media' (Boykoff 2006: 201). This is of course informative of the public debate – here the early protests of the Global Justice Movement – in question, but draws only a limited picture of what are the meanings and values at stake in the debate. What kind of moral evaluations lay behind the (supposedly journalist-led) frames Boykoff identifies[5] as the discursive forces delegitimizing the protesters' cause? And what about the protesters, what is worthy for them, why were they fighting this then seemingly desperate battle against global financial institutions? With JA, the battle of meanings that goes on in the public sphere is made evident, as the justifications of different actors are considered; not only the ones that 'determine' the frame. Clearly, some party often dominates a public debate, but this is exactly why analysing the political and moral dimensions of the arguments is crucial. Hence, the analysis of what is going on in a public debate becomes more nuanced when (also the dominating) arguments are analysed as subject to tests between different moral values. Furthermore, with JA, sociological analysis avoids the risk of neutralizing the dominant discourse that is often portrayed as apolitical in mainstream public sphere, and instead, can fully incorporate the power dynamics of public debates (for a critique of the neglect of power in framing literature, see e.g. Carragee & Roefs 2004).
5.3 In contrast to mainstream inductive approaches to 'framing', JA starts with the seven predefined categories of the justification theory. Perhaps the most important insight of the theory, based on Boltanski and Thévenot's empirical studies, is that people in everyday disputes and political conflicts in the public sphere tend to resort to a relatively limited number of moral principles, which have also been elaborated throughout the history of modern political philosophy. Beginning with this kind of relatively stable set of principles has the advantage that it encourages one to see how today's disputes are related to more general discussion about moral principles, much of which is repeated (and gradually evolves) over long periods of time. [6] Using a theoretically constructed set of categories has another advantage over approaches that draw the categories inductively from the research material: it enables comparisons between cases, be it countries or different public debates within the same country. If categories are drawn from the material by each case study separately, systematic comparison across cases is difficult and accumulation of knowledge about things such as political cultures is limited. Our approach presents one way of addressing these limitations.
5.4 Moreover, justifications analysis is by no means limited to looking for the occurrence of these seven categories in the data. Instead, Boltanski and Thévenot's original categories can be divided further as necessary, and their combinations are not limited to compromises and denunciations. The need to divide the orders of worth into subcategories came up in both of our case studies, especially regarding civic justifications. In the globalization debate civic claims were divided into democracy claims on the one hand, and equality claims on the other. In the local disputes it was clear that civic justifications were used in very different ways in Finland and in France.
5.5 In the globalization debate democracy justifications represent the procedural side of civic worth. According to arguments based on this type of justification, the biggest problem regarding globalization is that no democratic institutions exist for its governance. The other side of civic worth – arguments demanding a more equal distribution of income – focuses on the outcomes of globalization instead of governance procedures. The question is what consequences does globalization have for the distribution of income between and within countries, and for the mechanisms of taxation and redistribution.
5.6 Our second research example revealed important differences in the use of civic justifications in Finland and France. Whereas Finns emphasized laws and commonly agreed contracts when resorting to civic justifications, the French emphasized solidarity, equality between citizens and the significance of democratic participation. Regardless of this difference, the civic justifications in both countries clearly sprouted from the same root. By accounting for this variation in the use of civic justifications, we were able to deepen the results of our comparative analysis. The differences reflect the profoundly different conceptions held in the two political cultures about democracy, the collective understanding of the role of citizens and the different starting points of social bonds and solidarity (see Luhtakallio 2012). This observation describes the sensitivity of JA as a tool for comparative analysis. The method lends itself to examining cultural differences and similarities at different levels, from simple frequencies of the use of different justifications to delicate tones of cultural variations.
5.7 Another way to sensitize JA to the specificities of the data at hand is to focus on the different combinations of the orders of worth. Based on the two forms of combinations presented by Boltanski and Thévenot, compromise and denunciation, it is possible to form 42 pairs from the seven orders. When one includes cases where a compromise is formed between three orders of worth or where, for example, a compromise between two orders is denounced from the viewpoint of a third order, the number of possible combinations increases to hundreds. Moreover, both of our case studies revealed ways of combining justifications beyond denunciations and compromises.
5.8 Analysing the globalization debate, we found that two justifications are often combined by saying that one is a consequence of the other. In other words, it is claimed that the common good as defined in one order of worth automatically results from policies promoting the good as defined in another. Some participants in the globalization debate argued that promoting the market good automatically leads to an increase in civic good, while others had the opposite view of this relation. The first argument claims that markets produce democracy. In an op-ed dealing with China's membership in the WTO, this relationship is presented as something resembling a law of nature: 'Liberalization of the economy is always followed by demands for other rights' (HS November 25, 1999). According to this conception, China's WTO membership will eventually result in the collapse of the rule by a single party. Thus, the best way to promote democracy in China is to liberalize the economy. On rare occasions in the globalization debate, this idea about the relationship of civic and market worth is reversed. It is argued that redistribution of income does not hinder economic growth, as neoclassical economic theory would claim, but, to the contrary, promotes it. Such Keynesian thinking was very important in the building of Nordic welfare states, including Finland, beginning in the 1950s. In the 2000s, the number of Finnish actors making this argument is surprisingly low. But as it happens, the World Bank, criticized heavily by the GJM for its hostility to social policy, does take up this argument – perhaps as a reaction to the widespread criticism of its programs around the world. The main theme of the Bank's World Development Report 2005 is equality. A journalist summarizes the report as follows:
The message of the report is simple: a good social and educational policy which provides equal possibilities for all, is also good economic policy. It makes possible the full use of the nation's resources, raises national economic productivity, and accelerates economic growth (HS September 22, 2005).
5.9 This example shows how JA helps in relating current public debates not only to the long history of political thought, but also to the more recent history of public debates about the same topic, increasing the potential for the accumulation of knowledge through linking several case studies that all use the same framework.
5.10 In the analysis of local disputes, we observed claims that combined orders of worth into more or less firm couplings. The couplings were combinations of justifications that did not alter the orders of worth, like in a compromise, or test their interjacent superiority, like in a denunciation-type combination. Citizen claim makers' use of coupling justifications was more frequent than city representatives'.
5.11 In the Finnish case, citizen claim makers justified their claims with a civic-industrial and/or market coupling so commonly that this combination rose to symbolize the ensemble of their claims. These couplings followed a fairly similar pattern in which the claim was justified with a coupling of justifications grounded, on the one hand, on laws and contracts, and on the other hand, on efficiency and quality and/or economy and savings. Civic justifications used by citizens seem 'natural': for example, in the case of a local tenant association demanding that the city should not change the code of tenement blocks because it would hamper resident democracy. In contrast, the frequent coupling of civic justifications with industrial and market ones raises the question whether this coupling is due to strategic necessity. The association also argued that a change in the code would hamper the efficient maintenance of the houses (industrial), and that resident democracy produces notable savings for the city in lower repair and maintenance costs (market). This form of coupling was recurrent in Finnish local disputes: citizens rarely justified their claims exclusively in terms of democracy, law or their rights as citizens, but almost always coupled their arguments with other types of worth, usually industrial or market.
5.12 Locating and interpreting the couplings helped us examine the question of power relations in the disputes. In Finland and France, the most recurrently deployed ways of justifying reflected not only cultural meaningfulness but also a degree of coercion, especially for the citizen claim makers who often had to settle for the terms of dispute – the orders of worth – set by the opposing party. Premises of justification theory include that everyone possesses the 'critical capacity' to use the orders of worth to justify claims, and that the orders are equal in the sense that claims invoking one order of worth are, in principle, as strong as those invoking any of the others. Our empirical analyses of public disputes raise the following question: how can these premises be fulfilled in empirical situations where the parties of the dispute are not equal in scope, resources or power potential? Another example from the Finnish data, with a citizen group justifying their claim with an industrial-market coupling, illustrates the question: 'The inhabitants of Viherlaakso state that the district library has to be preserved, because its annual costs are not high, and its discontinuation would not bring the city big savings' (HS May 24, 2005).
5.13 The inhabitants' coupling of justifications to defend their library is startling. One can easily think of justifications based on civic worth in defence of a library, but instead, the inhabitants relied on the industrial worth to exhibit their expertise regarding the annual expenditure of public libraries and the scale of the city's budget, while also reinforcing their claim with the cold market fact that closing down the library would not amount to notable savings. In this coupled justification the power relations seem to affect the citizen claim makers: they operate within an agenda set by power holders.
5.14 In the French data, in contrast, justifications that seemed constrained appeared within the civic worth. Recurrently, a city representative would justify her/his position based on the principles of participatory democracy. The citizens opposing the claim then presented another civic justification – instead of, for example, uttering an industrial argument that the procedures of participatory democracy were dysfunctional. In Finland, the common ground seemed to be set by the bureaucratic rule of a political culture where citizens are not easily given the role of political actors, whereas in France, the rigid political hierarchy underlying the Republican rhetoric of egalitarian politics resulted in a somewhat uneasy coerciveness of the civic order of worth. As these examples illustrate, analysing different combinations of orders of worth and tracing recurrent features in these combinations makes it possible to develop the capacity of justification theory to take into account context specific power relations, and to shed light on how politicization processes occur, succeed, and fail. Understanding of the latter is of crucial importance in examining democratization and also multiple current challenges in 'old' democracies (see Luhtakallio 2012).
Conclusions
6.1  this article with the conviction that the best way to present a research method is to show how it works. Hence, we introduced the JA by presenting its use in two empirical studies, highlighting the different possibilities of data, scope and measure of analysis, as well as the axes of interpretation the method opens. Analyzing the globalization debate in Finland, we argued that arguments are more likely to become successful in the public sphere if they are supported by a broad set of justifications, appealing to a wide range of potential allies and accepted, to some extent, by potential opponents. Comparing Finnish and French local disputes, we found that in the former, both citizens and the decision makers resort to industrial justifications, emphasizing efficiency and expertise. In the latter, the civic worth provides a similar 'common ground' for justifying public claims, emphasizing civil rights, deliberative procedures and solidarity.
6.2 We have presented Boltanski and Thévenot's classification of seven orders of worth as one possible way of recognizing and understanding the moral dimension of conflicts in the public sphere – often left in the margins by conventional approaches to the study of framing. There is, of course, no reason to assume that the number of relevant categories should be limited to seven. Furthermore, as we have noted, it is important to proceed with caution with regard to the sensitivity of the framework towards non-Western cultural traits.
6.3 This categorization, however, does have roots running through Western moral philosophy and is, consequently, widely recognized and utilized by a range of political actors across different settings. This, we have argued, makes the framework particularly suitable for comparisons between different debates, time periods and national contexts. If, on the one hand, systematic differences are found in the use of justifications across different debates within the same national context, relatively robust conclusions about persistent traits of political culture in that context can be drawn. If, on the other hand, ways of justifying arguments are found that form common ground across national political cultures, this opens the way to better understanding the possibilities of global public deliberation.


HUMAN SECURITY:
The term Human Security was first popularized by the United Nations Development Program in the early 1990s. It emerged in the post-Cold War era as a way to link various humanitarian, economic, and social issues in order to alleviate human suffering and assure security.
The issues Human Security addresses include, but are not limited to, the following:
• Organized Crime and Criminal Violence
• Human Rights and Good Governance
• Armed Conflict and Intervention
• Genocide and Mass Crimes
• Health and Development
• Resources and Environment
Human Security focuses primarily on protecting people while promoting peace and assuring sustainable continuous development. It emphasizes aiding individuals by using a people-centered approach for resolving inequalities that affect security. One of the major failings of Human Security, according to its critics, is that it is too all encompassing and that it fails to achieve its ambitious goals for improving the human condition. Still, the relevance of this concept for addressing the world’s most pressing issues seems clear. Security has gone global. It is no longer simply related to the security of nation states. The security of the individual now directly impacts the security of the state and vice versa.
In describing what Human Security is, former Secretary General of the United Nations Kofi Annan writes in the Foreword to Human Security and the New Diplomacy:
“During the cold war, security tended to be defined almost entirely in terms of military might and the balance of terror. Today, we know that ‘security’ means far more than the absence of conflict. We also have a greater appreciation for nonmilitary sources of conflict. We know that lasting peace requires a broader vision encompassing areas such as education and health, democracy and human rights, protection against environmental degradation, and the proliferation of deadly weapons. We know that we cannot be secure amidst starvation, that we cannot build peace without alleviating poverty, and that we cannot build freedom on foundations of injustice. These pillars of what we now understand as the people-centered concept of ‘human security’ are interrelated and mutually reinforcing.”
The United Nations Millennium Development Goals, passed in 2000, were one attempt to codify the scope of Human Security and make it measurable. Now, Human Security has entered the daily vocabulary of government officials, military and non-government personnel, humanitarian aid workers, and policymakers. The relevance of protecting human beings for international security has now been recognized, but it is the implementation that is proving difficult.

 Definitions of Human Security United Nations Definitions Kofi Annan: “In the wake of these conflicts, a new understanding of the concept of security is evolving. Once synonymous with the defence of territory from external attack, the requirements of security today have come to embrace the protection of communities and individuals from internal violence. The need for a more human-centred approach to security is reinforced by the continuing dangers that weapons of mass destruction, most notably nuclear weapons, pose to humanity: their very name reveals their scope and their intended objective, if they were ever used.”1 “We must also broaden our view of what is meant by peace and security. Peace means much more than the absence of war. Human security can no longer be understood in purely military terms. Rather, it must encompass economic development, social justice, environmental protection, democratization, disarmament, and respect for human rights and the rule of law.”2 “The demands we face also reflect a growing consensus that collective security can no longer be narrowly defined as the absence of armed conflict, be it between or within States. Gross abuses of human rights, the large-scale displacement of civilian populations, international terrorism, the AIDS pandemic, drug and arms trafficking and environmental disasters present a direct threat to human security, forcing us to adopt a much more coordinated approach to a range of issues.”3 “Human security, in its broadest sense, embraces far more than the absence of violent conflict. It encompasses human rights, good governance, access to education and health care and ensuring that each individual has opportunities and choices to fulfill his or her potential. Every step in this direction is also a steep towards reducing poverty, achieving economic growth and preventing conflict. Freedom from want, freedom from fear, and the freedom of future generations to inherit a healthy natural environment -- these are the interrelated building blocks of human – and therefore national – security.”4
 Sadako Ogata, (former) United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees: “Several key elements make up human security. A first essential element is the possibility for all citizens to live in peace and security within their own borders. This implies the capacity of states and citizens to prevent and resolve conflicts through peaceful and nonviolent means and, after the conflict is over, the ability to effectively carry out reconciliation efforts. A second element is that people should enjoy without discrimination all rights and obligations - including human, political, social, economic and cultural rights - that belonging to a State implies. A third element is social inclusion - or having equal access to the political, social and economic policy making processes, as well as to draw equal benefits from them. A fourth element is that of the establishment of rule of law and the independence of the justice system. Each individual in a society should have the same rights and obligations and be subject to the same set of rules. These basic elements which are predicated on the equality of all before the law, effectively remove any risk of arbitrariness which so often manifests itself in discrimination, abuse or oppression.”5 “Threats to human security are varied – political and military, but also social, economic and environmental. A wide array of factors contribute to making people feel insecure, from the laying of landmines and the proliferation of small arms, to transnational threats such as drugs trafficking, to the spread of HIV. Once again, therefore, let me speak of human insecurity from my perspective. Refugees flee conflicts. One of the main factors of human insecurity is precisely the lack of effective political and security mechanisms to address conflicts.”6 Ramesh Thakur, Vice Rector, Peace and Security, United Nations University: “Human security refers to the quality of life of the people of a society or polity. Anything which degrades their quality of life – demographic pressures, diminished access to or stock or resources, and so on – is a security threat. Conversely, anything which can upgrade their quality of life – economic growth, improved access to resources, social and political empowerment, and so on – is an enhancement of human security.”7

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