In Defence of Decolonisation: a response to Southern Criminology

Authors: Thalia Anthony, Robert Webb, Juanita Sherwood, Harry Blagg & Antje Deckert

Mohwak scholar Taiaiake Alfred has remarked that in settler colonies, reconciliation is another form of re-colonisation. The “reconciliation of Indigenous people to colonialism”, in Alfred’s words, do not challenge structures of power that deny First Nations people substantive rights. We draw on Alfred’s observations to highlight the agenda of Southern Criminology. This increasingly influential school while seeking to engage epistemologies of the South reinscribes colonial relations of power, including colonial hierarchies of knowledge. It does so by uncritically bringing together the North and the South through a working partnership in criminology. 

The standpoint of Southern Criminology was recently updated by lead-author Professor Kerry Carrington in the British Society of Criminology blog. A key purpose of the blog is to take to task ‘decolonial theory’ in Criminology by accusing it of essentialising Indigenous knowledges, making unfair criticisms of Western Criminology and presenting ‘crude simplistic critiques of southern criminologies’. Our blog represents a defence of decolonising frameworks. We point out numerous false claims and inconsistencies in Carrington’s blog. Among these are that decolonial theory is ‘negative’. We contend that challenging colonial legacies in criminology is crucial for building more inclusive ideas and praxes.

Colonisation is not a metaphor

Carrington opens her blog by questioning the division of the world between North and South, centre and periphery and/or First and Third World. She claims these demarcations universalise theories of the North to cast the South as backwards. To buck this trend, Southern Criminology advocates for the equal acceptance of the North and the South, in which criminologists accept that the South is not lesser than the North. A move that, according to Carrington, would contribute to cognitive and global justice.

In conceptualising the South, Carrington describes it ‘as a metaphor’ for inequality. The blog does not contend with real power relations where inequality is not a metaphor. We assert this in a similar way to Tuck and Yang’s contention that ‘decolonization is not a metaphor’. Inequality is countenanced in everyday colonial institutions that dispossess Indigenous peoples of their land, destroy sacred sites, steal Indigenous children, kill Indigenous people in custody, condone racist policing, deny Indigenous people basic rights and silence Indigenous critiques and systems of knowledge. Unequal power relations have assured that First Nations people are hyperincarcerated across settler colonial societies and that Australia’s Indigenous people are the most incarcerated people on the planet.

Carrington’s choice of words, such as North and South, understates past and present structures of oppression. A telling omission in her language (and analysis) is the lack of reference to geo-political divisions of “colonisers and the colonised”. By failing to confront ongoing colonising relationships, the type of ‘Southern Criminology’ Carrington champions cannot challenge this divide. This is highlighted in its main mission to ‘democratize’ knowledge by promoting a partnership between the North and South through simply expanding ‘the repertoire of criminological knowledges’. The blog rejects the proposition that the ‘epistemologies of the south and north, east and west, Indigenous and non-Indigenous’ are ‘dichotomous’ or ‘mutually exclusive spaces or categories’, hence neglecting the colonising dynamics embedded in the construction of the divisions.

A decolonising lens reveals why these differences exist. Blagg and Anthony contend in Decolonising Criminology that the existence of the colonial world and its epistemologies, including its criminological mindset, relies on the colonisation and assimilation of Indigenous people and knowledges. Inferiorising Indigenous peoples and knowledges justifies colonisers’ self-proclaimed superior ideas and intrusive practises. Colonisers regarded Indigenous people as trespassers on their own land to enable settler violence and land take over. Constructs of Indigenous people as outlaws justified frontier massacres and segregation.

Universities are a symptom of colonial forces and their constructs of Indigenous people permeate the academy and research. Criminology in colonised states is preoccupied with identifying, quantifying, explaining, and fixing Indigenous “criminality”. The blog claims that bridges can be built between these approaches of the North and approaches in the South. However, a decolonial lens identifies that the North’s deficit discourse relating to Indigenous people stands at odds with the discourse of sovereignty of Indigenous people and the colonial harms of penal institutions. How can the colonising impetus of the North sit alongside theories of critical resistance and Indigenous self-determination? Conceivably, they cannot. If there are to be attempts at a reconciliation, the terms should be governed by principles of Indigenous self-determination to recognise the legacy of epistemological oppression.

Decolonisation seeks to disrupt the structures and theories of colonisation that are intent on eliminating Indigenous people. Juan Tauri’s decolonising research calls into question Criminology’s ‘veil of scientism’ that perpetuates ‘myth construction’ of Indigenous people’s inferiority and the colonial state’s superiority. Decolonial research has a different agenda (in relation to furthering Indigenous sovereignty and resistance), asks different questions (about the colonial harms of the state and ruling class) and applies decolonising methodologies (that radically critique colonial institutions, elevate the voices and knowledges of Indigenous people and accept different forms of knowledge sharing – song, poetry, art, film, ceremony etc). It supports a post-disciplinary approach in which university disciplines are not the central repository of knowledge production. It also challenges the focus of much of Criminology on policing, surveillance and prisons, and instead recognises that colonial harms against Indigenous people operate in a broader carceral network for which penality is only one site.

Southern Criminology’s false representation of decolonial approaches

Repeatedly through her blog, Carrington accuses ‘post-colonial/decolonial theories’ of reductionism and essentialism. Carrington states, ‘One of the problems with theories of decolonisation, has been the tendency to essentialise race and romanticise ethnicity’. Carrington cites Cain (2000) to suggest that decolonial critiques of Western Criminology engage with a ‘romanticization of “the other”’. Cain’s article, however, is not an analysis of decolonial thinkers. Rather, it takes aim at the ‘western criminology of orientalism’ because it ‘romanticizes the other’ (Cain 2000, 239); the reverse of what Carrington claims in her blog. The issue of misrepresentation of other’s work arises with Carrington’s use of de Sousa Santos’ work. Carrington also relies on de Sousa Santos (2014: 212) to argue that post-colonial/decolonial theories ‘reify and essentialise concepts, such as Eastern or Indigenous knowledge’ (Carrington’s words, not de Sousa Santos’). However, de Sousa Santos does not state this about post-colonial/decolonial theories. Instead, he identifies this trend in the Global North. In the cited reference, he critiques

both the reified dichotomies among alternative knowledges (e.g., indigenous knowledge versus scientific knowledge) and the unequal abstract status of different knowledges (e.g., indigenous knowledge as a valid claim of identity versus scientific knowledge as a valid claim of truth).

Following on from de Sousa Santos, decolonial approaches recognise that Indigenous knowledge – in its multiplicity of forms – is scientific knowledge. It provides a method for understanding the world and for continuing survival. Decolonial approaches can also use the tools of statistics to challenge colonial institutions. The research of Palawa woman and Professor Maggie Walter’s is a testament to this approach. In these ways, decolonial approaches reject that Indigenous knowledge is homogenous, “romantic” or reified – these are all ideas that stem from the Global North. Rather, it recognises the need to reclaim Indigenous knowledges from the melting pot of colonial knowledge and from misappropriation. As Māori scholar Linda Tuhiwai Smith (2008, 62) attests in Decolonizing Methodologies,

[C]olonialism not only meant the imposition of Western authority over indigenous lands, indigenous modes of production and indigenous law arid government, but the imposition of Western authority over all aspects of indigenous knowledges, languages and cultures.

We can draw from Carrington’s use of other scholars’ work that misrepresentation can contribute to false claims. There is a high importance for criminologists to accurately present other scholars’ work in order to further knowledge.

Spurious claims of Southern Criminology

To defend Southern Criminology against decolonial approaches, Carrington claims that Blagg and Anthony’s book Decolonising Criminology reference ‘very few Indigenous scholars’. A careful examination of the text demonstrates that the contention is false. There are over 200 publications authored by Indigenous scholars, organisations and people on the ground that are quoted and cited. There would be few Criminology texts that could make this claim. To name a few Indigenous authors across the settler-colonial lands of Australia, Canada, New Zealand: Aileen Moreton-Robinson, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Alfred Taiaike, Jackie Huggins, Eve Tuck, Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Peta MacGillivray, Pat Dudgeon, Amanda Porter, Jeff Corntassel, Alison Whittaker, Nicole Watson, Juanita Sherwood, Vanessa Davis, Peter Yu, Gallarrwuy Yunupingu, Willie Ermine, Martin Nakata, Sákéj Youngblood Henderson, Renee Linklater, Eddie Cubillo, Moana Jackson, and Ambelin Kwaymullina. By contrast, Carrington makes scant references to Indigenous researchers in her blog and article she and her co-authors’ published in the British Journal of Criminology, including from the country she occupies, Australia.

Not only does Decolonising Criminology reference Indigenous scholars in significant numbers, but more importantly, their ideas are centred – not because the authors reify them, but because they provide new understandings, Indigenous understandings derived from Indigenous lived experience. These have been silenced for over 500 years and, to use the blog’s own words, giving voice represents ‘cognitive justice’. The book is a challenge to criminological research that largely neglects the impacts of penality on Indigenous people and practises of Indigenous resistance and sovereignty. Key ideas in the book include Gaykamangu’s and Gaymarani’s analysis of the relationship between Indigenous and Western laws; Marie Battiste and Sákéj Youngblood Henderson’s notion of Indigenous Knowledge; Larissa Behrendt’s examination of the colonisation of Indigenous women; Audre Simpson’s concept of Indigenous refusal; Irene Watson’s critique of international law in the context of Indigenous sovereignty; Yin Paradies’ analysis of institutional racism and Juan Tauri’s critical examination of restorative justice. Decolonising Criminology includes a foreword by Wiradjuri woman and Pro Vice Chancellor First Nations Engagement, Professor Juanita Sherwood who states (2019, ix), ‘This book challenges the colonial epistemology of one truth and explores the expertise of First Peoples of Australia and their ways of knowing, being and doing regarding their experiences, circumstances and unfair treatment.’

Southern Criminology’s inconsistencies

There are a number of inconsistencies within the Southern Criminology schema and claims as set out by Carrington in the blog.

First, despite arguing that decolonial approaches essentialise Indigenous knowledge, Carrington claims that she herself has adopted a decolonial approach. Indeed, the title of her blog reads, ‘Decolonizing Criminology through the inclusion of epistemologies of the south’. She writes in the blog, ‘the southernizing of criminology pursues practical decolonizing projects’. The attempt to criticise decolonial approaches, on the one hand, and claim them, on the other hand, is inconsistent. It signals Southern Criminology’s gesture of claiming the decolonial space on its own terms while actively marginalising its decolonial and Indigenous detractors.

Second, Carrington criticises scholars who perceive the decolonial limitations of Southern Criminology, on the basis that they publish in ‘privileged journals in United States and England’. She does not appreciate the irony that her seminal piece on Southern Criminology was published in the British Journal of Criminology. In her blog, Carrington prides Southern Criminology on a conference co-hosted with the University of Oxford. With no disrespect to these forums, it is disingenuous to criticise decolonial thinkers who may engage in these forums. It also neglects the journals that are founded or edited by decolonial scholars such as the open-access journals, Decolonization of Criminology and Justice and Journal of Global Indigeneity. In response to Carrington’s claims on this issue, it can be argued that the best place for decolonial and Indigenous scholars to ensure their critique reaches Southern Criminologists is to publish in the journals that they clearly prefer because they do not cite or submit to decolonial or Indigenous journals.

Third, despite Carrington imploring intercultural exchange, she refutes a resurrection of ‘alternative origin stories or “founding fathers”, as some decolonial theorists have done’. Without identifying who these decolonial theorists are or the nature of these origin stories – in other words, without offering evidence to support her claims – these claims amount to an unevidenced rejection of alternative knowledges. Does she intend to demean stories about Country that are passed down by ancestors? Her denial of alternative stories is inconsistent with Southern Criminology’s calls for a cross-pollination of knowledge and perpetuates the dismissal of Indigenous knowledges.

Fourth, the blog suggests that the tendency of ‘theories of decolonisation … to essentialise race and romanticise ethnicity’ makes invisible the ‘gender of coloniality’. Carrington claims that ‘southern feminisms’ aim to ‘decolonise and democratise feminist theory … by embracing a mosaic of epistemologies’. However, Carrington’s own work eschews the epistemologies of Indigenous women. As discussed in the following section, deep seated concerns by Indigenous women scholars, including Amanda Porter, Crystal McKinnon and Marlene Longbottom, with Carrington’s methods and findings in her numerous publications on women’s police stations have remained unaddressed in her work.

Southern Criminology in practise 

Carrington’s recent research on women’s police stations signify the importation of assumptions of the Global North. Far from questioning the role of the police in women’s lives, especially its brutalising impacts on Indigenous women, Carrington seeks to layer gender into police operations. Injecting gender into policing operationalises Carrington’s objectives for Southern Criminology ‘to decenter, democratize and pluralize knowledge by injecting it with knowledge from the south and the periphery’. 

Carrington et al assert that the Argentinian model of women’s police stations ‘would be good for Aboriginal women’. She states (2020),

Australia does indeed have much to learn about how women’s police stations respond to and aim to prevent gender violence. If appropriately staffed by Indigenous and non-Indigenous teams trained to work from both gender and culturally sensitive perspectives, police stations designed to specifically respond to gender violence, have the potential to significantly enhance the policing and prevention of gender violence across Australia.

Carrington assumes that place-based practices from one side of the globe can be exported to another side of the globe. This is reminiscent of Western Criminology which applies, for example the family violence model from Duluth, Minnesota (which centres police and courts) to Indigenous people in remote Australia. Conversely, because the women’s police station model is from Argentina, ostensibly part of the ‘good South’, does not make it any more appropriate for Indigenous women. Carrington’s universalising methodology – where all practises from the South can be transferred – is tantamount to essentialising the South. This replicates one of the key critiques of the domination of ‘the North’, which is at the forefront of Southern Criminology, namely its long hegemony over the development and global transfer of theories, policies and interventions.

What this body of research reveals is that Southern Criminology reinstates the penal institutions that threaten Indigenous communities. This is because Southern Criminology ‘is blind to coloniality and, therefore, has yet to break away from criminology’s modern epistemological and ontological underpinnings’, as Eleni Dimou describes. It ignores calls by Indigenous scholars and campaigners to defund police. When Southern Criminology speaks of building bridges in Criminology, it amounts to incorporating elements of the South into the penal structures of the North. It has no regard for the fact that Australian Indigenous women who die in police custody often do so under the watch of women police officers. Women police officers served as the custody supervisors and lockup keepers when Indigenous women Tanya Day, Ms Dhu, and Rebecca Maher died in custody in Australia in recent years.

Confronting oppressive criminal institutions as a pathway to unity

In her blog, Carrington describes decolonising research – which identifies the colonial logic in penal enforcement – as ‘negative decolonial projects’. She claims that they ‘damn all criminologists as “racist”, “westerncentric” “control freaks” on some sort of “bandwagon”’, and once again she does so without providing any evidence to support her assertions. By contrast, Carrington venerates Southern Criminology’s projects for ‘bridging global divides’ and not setting out to ‘denigrate the contribution of metropolitan criminology’.

However, it is racism, its manifestation in Criminology and translation in carceral practices that are divisive and negative. By calling into question the deep-seated precepts of Criminology – namely, the criminality of the ‘Other’, the defence of penal institutions and the righteousness of universalising Western methods – we can imagine a different world. We can imagine a world that promotes collectivity, human rights, and Indigenous self-determination rather than one that depends on exclusion, hierarchy, and racism. A decolonising agenda is based on unifying humanity by dissolving the structures that divide us.

About the authors

Collectively and individually, our research identifies the colonial legacies in penal institutions, criminological thought and the broader carceral network. In our work and activism we seek to decolonise the carceral and criminological agendas so we can move beyond them.

Thalia Anthony is a Professor of Law at the University of Technology Sydney Thalia.anthony@uts.edu.au.

Robert Webb is a Senior Lecturer in Criminology at the University of Auckland robert.webb@auckland.ac.nz.

Juanita Sherwood is a Professor and Pro Vice Chancellor First Nations Engagement at Charles Sturt University (NSW). jsherwood@csu.edu.au

Harry Blagg is a Professor of Criminology at the University of Western Australia. harry.blagg@uwa.edu.au

Antje Deckert is a Senior Lecturer in Criminology at Auckland University of Technology. Antje.deckert@aut.ac.nz

Main image courtesy of Montecruz Foto

Is Nothing Sacred: The Creation of a Criminal Other

How cultural genocide has led to the Australian indigenous population to be viewed as a ‘criminal other’.

Andy Diaper is an independent social researcher. He works with vulnerable and excluded people within the community. His main research interests are groups that are excluded, harmed, and criminalised, including indigenous populations.

On 24th May 2020, two ancient rock shelters in the Juukan Gorge in the Pilbara region of Western Australia were destroyed by blasting. The Anglo-Australian multinational mining corporation Rio Tinto carried out the blasting work.  This was to increase the size of their open-cut iron ore mine named Brockman 4. These shelters were sacred sites to the indigenous population and of great archaeological/spiritual importance. This was the only site in Australia  to show continual human occupation stretching back forty-six thousand years.

Rio Tinto were fully aware of both the historical (they had commissioned an archaeological survey of the site) and the spiritual importance. It was not the only option for the expansion, they had investigated four options: three of which would not have damaged the rock shelters. The reason this option was chosen was it would yield an extra eight million tonnes of high-grade iron ore with a net value of seventy-five million pounds.

The traditional owners of the area the Poutu Kunti Kurrama and Pinikura People (PKKP) only learned of the blasting nine days before the detonation. Lawyers acting on behalf of the PKKP contacted the Federal Indigenous Affairs minister to intervene on heritage grounds. The minister’s office never replied to the lawyers. It should be made clear that Rio Tinto were acting under  section 18 of the Western Australia Aboriginal Heritage Act 1972.

Was this act a singular event? Or a misunderstanding? Rio Tinto has a very poor record in its dealings with the environment and indigenous populations. This event can be viewed as a continuation of the cultural genocide of the indigenous people of Australia.

This cultural genocide is not carried out in an overt way. There is no single perpetrator creating death camps, destroying cultural symbols and sites in the name of some form of purity. This could be called the ‘banality of genocide’. That is there is no single perpetrator, no monstrous ‘other’. This is genocide by a thousand cuts, this is not just a simple metaphor. It was borne out of colonialism with its inherent racism and profiteering which has been reproduced by governments over time. With the ever-increasing move to neoliberal politics this has created the space for other actors to exploit the continuing destruction of the indigenous population to meet their own wants. It can be argued that the neoliberal project is harmful to all vulnerable and disempowered populations. Any concentration on the meritocratic path holds an expectation for the individual to improve their position within the social structure. If however, you are denied the means to achieve this, it can only lead to aspirational failure, despair, and frustration. In the case of the indigenous population this is particularly toxic. With the ongoing destruction of their culture, they become a people with no ‘roots’ or ‘culture’ within what is their own country. In effect a diaspora within their own country.

Genocidal acts against the indigenous population began with colonisation: both physical and cultural. They lost all rights to their land when it was declared ‘Terra Nullis’, as this legitimised the seizure of the land. The indigenous population was decimated by diseases brought in by the colonisers, to which they had no natural immunity. Also, there were deliberate acts of slaughter. These state-sanctioned massacres were not just committed in the early years of colonisation but continued up to the late1920’s.

It was not until 1967 that the Australian government recognised the indigenous population as individualised people. However, even with this recognition it has not eliminated the discrimination, inequality and other harms being perpetrated.

Examples of these harms are 3.1 percent of the Australian population is indigenous, however, 19.3 percent live in poverty compared to 12.4 percent of other Australians. Approximately 20 percent living in non-rural areas live in overcrowded accommodation. The combination of poor housing and poverty impacts on health and mortality outcomes which are also poorer and higher than other Australians. Youth suicide between the ages of five and seventeen is five times higher than non-indigenous people. There is an overrepresentation in the Australian Child Protection system of indigenous children. It is argued that this system supports thousands of jobs from various professions. For example, lawyers, social workers, medical professionals and psychologists, these groups benefit financially from ‘indigenous disadvantage’ A causal reason for this overrepresentation is poverty and systemic racism. It has been likened to a second ‘stolen generation’.

 The indigenous population is also heavily overrepresented in the criminal justice system. Indigenous people are 12.5 times more likely to be in prison as opposed to non-indigenous people. Indigenous females are 21.2 times more likely to be in prison than non-indigenous women. This imprisonment rate is also higher than the rate for non-indigenous men. This overrepresentation has been recognised as symptomatic of the historical and current harms to this population. This also applies to the higher death rate in custody.

The harms perpetrated on the indigenous population, colonisation, post-colonial actions, institutional racism, and an increasing turn to neoliberal politics, is a toxic mix. By its nature neoliberal politics opens the ‘space’ for the private sector to run roughshod over the weak and vulnerable. The belief that it is the responsibility of individuals – not the state – to improve lives, becomes a potential breeding ground for the perpetuation and increase of racism in the wider public. The overrepresentation of the indigenous population in the justice and ‘social care’ system and entrenched racism has led to a misrecognition. The indigenous people are viewed as the architects of their own plight. They are viewed as a criminal ‘other’ and not worthy of help and protection.

On January 26th, each year, the Australian nation celebrate ‘Australia Day’. This marks the raising of the union flag in 1788, some two hundred and thirty-three years ago, beginning the colonisation of Australia. For the indigenous population it is not a day of celebration but a day of mourning. A visceral reminder of the divisiveness, harms and abuses perpetrated upon them historically and continuing  in the present. These harms will continue until those in positions of power move away from tokenism and introduce and strengthen equal and human rights and the protection of indigenous lands.

The article will conclude back in the rock shelters at Juukan gorge, more than seven thousand archaeological artifacts were discovered. One of these was a fragment  of a belt made from plaited human hair. After scientific analysis it was found to be four thousand years old. The DNA results revealed that the owner of the hair was a direct descendant of the PKKP indigenous people still inhabiting this region today.

Contact

Andy Diaper, Independent Researcher.

Email: andy.diaper@btinternet.com

Twitter: @andy_diaper  

Author image courtesy of Melissa Diaper.

Cave art image copyright free.

Seven New Conversations in Historical Criminology

Report on discussions at BSC Historical Criminology Network Workshop 2020.

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David Churchill is Associate Professor in Criminal Justice in the Centre for Criminal Justice Studies, School of Law, University of Leeds, and Chair of the BSC Historical Criminology Network. His research focuses on policing, security and crime control in modern Britain

 

Conferences are great – a chance to catch up with old friends, pick up fresh ideas and hatch plans for new ventures. So many have been lost to the lockdown this summer, and they are much missed. But there’s also a problem with conferences. After two or three days of mind-opening discussion, everyone goes home. Greeted by a wall of emails and all the distractions of the day-to-day, the spark of creative energy is so easily lost.

So this year, members of the BSC Historical Criminology Network did something different. The plan was to bring together scholars who don’t normally work together to talk about topics of common interest. We hoped to meet in person, but the pandemic intervened. So we met online instead. This brought challenges – frail internet connections and so on – but it also opened up the conversation to a much wider, more international group than would have been possible otherwise.

And so seven groups of brilliant scholars met to discuss new directions and common concerns in historical criminology. It was a wonderful day, illustrated in real time to give a rich visual record of the event. In this post, the convenors of each group offer a summary of what was said. But these conversations are not finished – several groups are looking forward to future meetings and possible collaborations. So if something catches your eye, do get in touch via contact details below.

  1. Mobile MethodsMobile Methods and Doing Historical Criminology (Esmorie Miller, Alexa Neale & Lizzie Seal – e.c.seal@sussex.ac.uk): Our group discussed experiences of, and possibilities for, using mobile methods in historical criminology. We understood mobile methods to include walking as a research method, but also other mobilities, such as road trips and boat trips. We discussed how mobile methods might unlock understandings of space and sensory experience in ways that other methods cannot and how this is particularly relevant for historical criminologists, who usually conduct research from documents. We explored how mobilities can illuminate what we have read in archival documents, offering insights into locations and landscapes, especially in relation to places in which events happened, areas where particular individuals lived, or journeys they undertook. We talked about how being out and about can lead to chance meetings which might produce new ideas, or garner new information. And we considered access to spaces – something which varies by space and by person.

Another key theme from the discussion was the significance of layering. Landscapes, buildings, areas have developed over time and bear multiple histories. They have different meanings to different social groups and are sites of contested memory. We spoke about the salience of memorialisation at the moment in terms of understandings of, and contests about, colonial history and racial justice. Finally, we discussed technologies and the possibilities offered by online tools such as StoryMap JS that enable highlighting location in relation to a series of events. We talked about how, in an era of restricted mobility, historical criminologists might be able to share resources with each other online to enhance understandings of space.

  1. CorruptionPolice Corruption (Paul Bleakley – p.bleakley@mdx.ac.uk): This workshop was a great opportunity for academics working on researching historical incidences of law enforcement misconduct to liaise with police practitioners, and to discuss the ways that insight into the past can assist in shaping contemporary anticorruption policies. What emerged was the general recognition that studies of police corruption face a serious definitional problem, where our understandings of what constitutes corrupt practice differing greatly based on location and (crucially) the sociocultural context of the period in which it was practiced. It was agreed that historical criminology provides anticorruption researchers with a “safe space” to discuss very pertinent issues of deviant organisational cultures and managerial practices, allowing for critical analysis without presenting a professional or legal threat to active duty police. Because of this, studies of the intra-organisational cultural factors that drive police corruption can be examined in a more abstract way through the lens of the past. The group determined that one of the greatest priorities of historical police corruption research should be to draw on the myriad of examples that the past offers us to develop a clearer typology of misconduct – not just what acts are considered “corrupt”, but how a culture of misconduct becomes entrenched in law enforcement agencies.
  2. AHC‘Advancing ‘Historical Criminology’: Celebrating interdisciplinarity and reflecting on history as lingua franca (Sarah Wilson – s.wilson@york.ac.uk): This was truly a global and intellectually diverse group (from History and Criminology to Political Science and Law), including those with practitioner backgrounds in museum work and policing. The session was oriented around the idea of promoting historical criminology through History as ‘lingua franca’. This stresses: (i) the need for Criminology as a whole to ‘become historicised’ (rather than establishing a niche sub-field); that (ii) Criminology is in need of direction in how to move toward historicisation; and that (iii) examining how other humanities and social science disciplines are reflecting on their own relationship with history would be beneficial for Criminology. Linking these points is the idea that History can help break down disciplinary barriers; that through historicisation scholars can come together and ‘find’ shared interests which have been obscured by discipline-specific practices and language. Asked whether Historical Criminology was a movement in need of direction, participants discussed its current intellectual standing and directions. This led to a fantastic conversation on the importance of Historical Criminology moving away from being a minor pursuit (one occurring in ‘pockets’) towards a position of normalisation within the discipline of Criminology. Very interesting reflections were offered on the importance of history in ‘grounding’ social science research, and giving meaning, context and sense and even rigour to social science’s interest in data analysis. Perhaps the most insightful discussions centred on History’s value as the ‘interdisciplinary discipline’, and how it is uniquely placed to speak across so many disciplines, on account of its interest in continuums rather than the ‘binaries’ which often underpin the theories and rationales of social science.
  3. AtoneThe Not Yet Dead God of Atonement (Aaron Pycroft – aaron.pycroft@port.ac.uk): We explored the historical relationship between theology and the practices of justice and the ways in which Judaeo-Christian atonement theory is used in contemporary penal settings to support harsh penal measures. The basic premise of this approach is that every crime (sin) must be punished to satisfy the metaphysical requirements of both a retributive god and the need for social order. The discussion was based around Pycroft (in press) and whether modern anthropological, theological and philosophical resources in “the death of the death of god discourse” should have any traction in criminology. We discussed the limits of practical reason (following Kant) and the implications of the de Sade through to Foucault genealogy in critical criminology and whether these philosophies do no more than lock in cruelty and violence. This led to an examination of personal complicity in structural violence and the role that Judaeo-Christianity plays in revealing that violence to others, without resorting to simplistic deus ex machina arguments. There was an acknowledgement of the challenge of teaching these issues in standard criminological curricula, but that change agency, personalism and religious literacy were promising topics for further exploration. [Pycroft, A (in press) ‘Surveillance, Substance Misuse and the Drug Use Industry’ in The Pre-Crime Society: Crime, Culture and Control in the Ultramodern Age. Arrigo, B. & Sellers, B. (eds.). Bristol: Bristol University Press.]
  4. DTCrime-Related Dark Tourism: An Exploration (Hannah Thurston – H.Thurston@brighton.ac.uk): First, we shared concerns about crime-related tourism. How reality and fiction become blurred, how stories are marginalised or sensationalized. We discussed problematic tropes and the consequences of distortion. We were though, mindful of the neo-liberal context: competing demands force sites to capitalize, to romanticise, to compromise. Next, we also chatted about the positive potential of crime-related tourism. We talked about how sites can disrupt dominant memories, problematising taken-for-granted transmissions of the past. Rather than sensationalise or romanticise, they work toward peace and social justice. We discussed activists (re)claiming sites and (re)interpreting stories, which led us to reflect upon our own place in the story-world. It transpired that many of us felt part of our (crime) stories. Some of us had worked in/consulted for museums. Others collaborated with artists/activists at heritage sites. Others had done TV interviews, and some had even corresponded with ancestors of the deceased. It became clear we had all – in one way or another – interrogated not only our own power as a storyteller, but also our role as a character within the story we were telling. And then we decided that transmission of memory is all about power, and collaborations present powerful opportunities to reach different audiences (big and small).  By understanding the needs of other storytellers – be they activists, curators, or documentary makers – we have the potential to influence and shape these crime-related sites/memories. Clearly these types of collaborations include compromise and it is unlikely we will be given the freedom to tell the story we would want to tell … The question is: should that stop us from trying?
  5. Path DependencePath Dependency, Crime and Social Responses to Crime (Thomas Guiney & Henry Yeomans – H.P.Yeomans@leeds.ac.uk): This session explored the emerging literature on ‘path dependency’ and how these analytical tools might be used to making sense of the historical development of crime and criminal justice. In our introductory talk we offered a general introduction to path dependency. Events in one historical context can constrain actions at later points in time by, for example, creating precedents, vested interests, embedded working practices or entrenched popular opinions. Deviating from the existing path can thus become much more challenging and costly than simply continuing with things as they are. Building on these observations, Dr Ashley Rubin from the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa discussed the promise and pitfalls of path dependency and how she has used these techniques in her own research to explain the uneven development of the early American state penitentiaries. In the subsequent discussion a number of themes emerged for further discussion:
  • The need to reconcile path dependency with a more dynamic view of policy change.
  • Further work on where change comes from, if not from exogenous shocks.
  • How change is “layered” over an extended period of time, and how this connects with recent theorising on time and temporality.
  • Whether path dependency needs to be anchored to institutional analysis or whether these techniques be used with biographical or life course studies.
  1. ProtectProtection (Francis Dodsworth – f.dodsworth@kingston.ac.uk): Our discussion explored how historical criminologists might contribute both to existing theories of protection and to the development of original empirical and theoretical enquiry. We discussed the centrality of ‘protection’ to contemporary criminal justice, connections with David Garland’s idea of the ‘culture of control’ and the need for fuller exploration of the genealogy of protection.

We were particularly interested in the power dynamics of protection, of who is being protected from whom – the police from the public, the public from the police, or people from themselves – so pertinent in the context of the Black Lives Matter protests and a media culture invested in sensational representation of threat. We discussed histories of protest, riot and moral panic, but also child removal and reformatories, disease regulations and prevention (extending into ‘public health’ models of violence reduction) and the configuration of ‘vulnerability’. Important issues raised included the policing of domestic abuse and the over-policing and under-protecting of minority and marginalised communities. We noted the longstanding discussion in the United States about ‘protection’ from below and its relation to accountability, and the need for historical perspectives on equivalent UK discourses. We also discussed a critical approach to the realities of vulnerability, recognising differential levels of autonomy and the importance of perceptions of vulnerability to violent response. Moving forward, there was interest in exploring the role that criminological study plays in terms of gender, class and minority recruitment into the criminal justice system and associated roles, and in how historical enquiry might help us think through what we want ‘protection’ to look like.

As mentioned earlier, these conversations are not finished.  Future meetings and future collaborations are full of possibilities. If you want to be a part of this, do get in touch via contact details above.

 

Images courtesy of Laura Evans of Nifty Fox Creative

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