This chapter develops a conceptual framework for understanding the Right to Repair (R2R) and its intersection with upcycling within contemporary intellectual property and sustainability discourse. It argues that the right to repair encompasses both negative and positive rights: the former protecting individual freedom from interference in repairing owned goods (‘freedom to repair’), and the latter requiring institutional and manufacturer support to ensure ‘repairability’. These differing conceptions manifest in contrasting policy models. Decentralized, market-oriented approaches in the US emphasizing ownership and autonomy, and centralized, circular economy frameworks in the EU prioritizing product design, durability, and extended producer responsibility.

To inform how we think about EU media law in the future, this chapter traces the understandings of harm evident in EU media laws, their proposal documents, and explanatory notes since the 1989 Television Without Frontiers Directive. It identifies a shift from concern with individual harm from exposure to content, to addressing a variety of sources of harm to individual consumers, collectives, and societal systems. It demonstrates that a link between assumptions about control over risk and responsibility remains persistent and shows how responsibility for preventing harm has been increasingly distributed among various actors as changes in the technology and design of services and in the harms being addressed have affected control over the risk. This chapter argues that future thinking in EU media law needs to focus on how the institutional architecture can support effective cooperative responsibility, including addressing imbalances of power and information asymmetries.

This chapter provides an overview of music in Spain during the Age of Enlightenment. It first focuses on several transversal aspects, such as musicians’ professional profiles, networks of circulation and mobility, and the reinterpretation of popular music as a symbol of Spanish cultural identity. It then examines the principal musical genres, along with their most significant works and authors, such as Domenico Scarlatti, José de Nebra, or Luigi Boccherini, among others. On the one hand, sacred music, which held great importance in such a Catholic country, reflected the tension between continuity and aesthetic change. On the other hand, a rich variety of stage genres flourished in the theatrical sphere, including the zarzuela, although a distinct ‘Spanish opera’ never emerged. In these, the dramaturgy inherited from the Golden Age was enriched through the influence of imported European models. Finally, instrumental genres first gained prominence in keyboard repertoire, before expanding into chamber music and orchestral works, as instrumental music became increasingly autonomous in the final third of the century.

Generative artificial intelligence (GenAI) represents a major shift in technological innovation, capable of transforming daily life and professional sectors, including the law. GenAI leverages advanced models to create new content, from text and images to music. In legal practice, it offers opportunities to streamline tasks like legal research, document drafting, contract review, and client communication. However, widespread use of general-purpose GenAI tools (e.g., ChatGPT) not designed specifically for legal contexts introduces significant risks. These include factual inaccuracies, breaches of confidentiality, privacy violations, and potential copyright infringements. Some US court cases have already revealed the misuse of AI, citing fabricated case-laws. In response, there is growing demand to regulate AI use in the legal field through revised codes of conduct and specific guidelines. This study focuses on the mentioned national and international guidelines issued for legal professionals using GenAI. Using content analysis methods, the research sheds light on shared policies such as the necessity of client consent and confidentiality protection and risks forecasted as intellectual property violations and the reinforcement of cognitive biases, highlighting how bar associations and similar bodies are shaping responsible AI use in legal practice.

This chapter analyses the different contexts, performance techniques, and stylistic elements that characterise the flamenco complex. Moreover, it accounts for the multiple social processes, institutional interventions, and forms of cross-cultural and transnational exchange that have occurred throughout flamenco’s history. It considers identity processes and debates that flamenco has triggered since the mid-nineteenth century, particularly concerning the identity of the Roma/Gitanos, as well as groups that have mobilised flamenco for different political and cultural ends. The chapter also examines the effects of globalisation and particularly the impact that global flows and influences have had on the development of the tradition, and on the rise of contested notions of authenticity in flamenco. The chapter ends with a consideration of more recent processes of the heritagisation and the institutionalisation of flamenco especially against the backdrop of tourism and Andalusian identity formation since the Transition to Democracy in Spain, beginning in 1975.

In this chapter we focus on two important functions of complex analysis, which play a key role in the theory of composition operators:

Revolutionary theories were paradigms for transforming future modes of production, social relation, and cultural representation, and for assessing past and existing relations of inequality and unfreedom. In this light, revolutionary theory was its own form of speculative fiction. Contemporary speculative fiction and film by Indigenous and Latinx creatives is a continuation of this revolutionary theorizing. If 20th-century revolutionary movements “failed” Latin American, Latinx, and Indigenous subalterns, then speculative fiction responds to this failure with a 21st-century anti-colonial/decolonial hermeneutic for understanding social relations of power as legacies of colonialism, while the aesthetic conventions of speculative fiction reanimate the genre as a vision of future worlds. Latinx and Indigenous authors and directors of science fiction, neo-gothic, adventure and dystopic/utopic genres explore the legacies of colonialism, neocolonialism, dispossession, and extractivism by creating shared public visions for their audiences of these events, as well as visions of future worlds yet to come.

This chapter implicitly responds to other chapters’ examination of imperial ideologies of time as well as their insistence on alternative temporalities. It does so by addressing the meanings and lived experiences of empire and its waves of apocalypse from the point of view of early Native literary studies and contemporary Native literary studies. In this chapter, literary categories open up history and demand that we see and think about periodization itself. Through a brief survey of early and contemporary texts, the chapter introduces readers to early (North American) Native studies and contemporary US Native literary studies, showing how both these overlapping bodies of literature helps us to see and better understand empire and ongoing imperial formations.

Traditional Knowledge (TK) refers to any knowledge that results from intellectual activity in a traditional context. In addition to knowledge, TK may include practices, skills, and innovations. It embodies the traditional lifestyles of Indigenous peoples and local communities, and is passed down through the generations. As it has been pointed out, it is a living body of knowledge that is developed, sustained, and passed on from generation to generation within a community, often forming part of its cultural or spiritual identity. As such, it is not easily protected by the current IP system, which typically grants protection for a limited period to inventions and original works by named individuals or companies. The chapter reflects on the different ways in which TK can be protected through IP, and its importance and value in an economic context which encourages sustainable practices. Finally, an analysis is given of the extent to which TK may be affected by the practice of upcycling and if (as it happens with regard to other IP rights as trademarks) there is a conflict between them.

During the nineteenth century, the image of an ‘authentic Spain’ – detached from European modernity – became consolidated. According to this idea, the ‘Renaissance’ of Spanish music, represented by the emblematic figures of Albéniz, Granados, and Falla, would have occurred as a result of a return to the essence of the country, embodied in popular tradition. The nineteenth century thus appears – on the whole – as a time of chaos and decadence. However, Spain’s nineteenth-century musical culture was not merely another link in a linear historical chain, but rather a moment of profound reconfiguration of the entire musical field. It was during this century that the concepts of music and the Spanish nation acquired the meaning we attribute to them today. The main objective of this chapter is to outline these transformations, avoiding both the pessimism of a supposed musical void and, conversely, the indiscriminate rehabilitation of ‘unjustly forgotten’ musicians. Conceived as an illustrative example, this contribution seeks to shed light – through the intersection of sacred music, Romantic aesthetics, and new philharmonic concert practices – on the relationship that emerged in the new century between historicism and progress, categories that ultimately shaped the culture of classical music in Spain.

In her memoir, Ilina Sen reflects on the political currents that shaped a generation of civil liberties activists in the 1960s and 1970s, including her own journey and that of her partner, Binayak Sen. Both were members of the PUCL, having served as its office-bearers. She describes how Gandhian, democratic-socialist, and communist political traditions in India inspired a generation of young, urban thinkers and activists who sought to reimagine their role in public life. For some, this political commitment demanded a renunciation of middle-class comforts of city life, to move to and live in rural areas, immersing themselves in grassroots social movements and taking on leadership roles within emerging movements. For others, like the members of the PUCL, it meant channelling their energies from the urban centres, supporting various movements using available resources to sustain and amplify movements. Through this, a politics of allyship took shape, through creation of platforms that provided emerging movement groups visibility and voice.

This chapter documents how cultural variation in emotion is not arbitrary, but follows a “cultural logic.” It examines how cultural models of independence and interdependence – along with their associated interpersonal goals and focus – co-occur with the emotions people both value (their ideal affect) and actually experience. For example, people in independent cultures (e.g., the United States) tend to value high arousal positive states like excitement more, and report socially disengaging emotions like anger more than people in interdependent cultures (e.g., East Asia), who tend to place greater value on low arousal positive states like calm and more frequently report socially engaging emotions like shame. These differences emerge across every level of the cultural cycle: in individual behaviors, social interactions, institutional practices, and broader cultural ideas. The chapter highlights how these cultural logics shape various aspects of life, including social judgments, resource sharing, and well-being. and concludes by outlining a roadmap for future research.

As allies, civil liberties activists have often reflected on normative questions and searched for shared, general and internally consistent principles to act upon. G. Haragopal and K. Balagopal, both members of the Andhra Pradesh Civil Liberties Committee (APCLC), raised the questions in the above quote. Others like Smitu Kothari and Harsh Sethi asked similar questions of themselves and their fellow activists. They ask, for instance, ‘How are we to react to the violence that the “revolutionary” groups engage in—be it against the state apparatus, other revolutionary groups, or against a general mass of the population?’ (Kothari and Sethi 1989, 13). A second dilemma emerged from the state being both the ultimate appellate authority and the perpetrator. In the context of communal violence, where the government and the local administration might have been complicit, civil liberties groups wondered who the appropriate appellate authority should be. ‘When communal violence is at its fever pitch, do we have any instrumentality other than the state to appeal to?’ (Kothari and Sethi 1989, 14). As we can see, these questions have both a political dimension (that is, to do with strategy formulation) and an ethical one (that is, to do with developing a code of conduct for themselves). These debates helped allies understand and build their own identity. In this chapter, I analyse two recurring debates within and across civil liberties groups to understand how these debates shaped the organisational identity of ally groups.