This chapter examines prominent solidarity conceptions used in legal discourses in the context of unfair economic arrangements, typically associated with neo-liberalism. It finds that prominent solidarity conceptions are from a legal theory perspective either circular, redundant, or too aspirational. The conceptual shortcomings of solidarity are echoed in standard policy proposals to counter and unwind neo-liberal economic arrangements. Those proposals typically involve imposing new legal duties on dominant economic actors and states, making their effectiveness depend on adopting new national, regional and international laws, on compliance by dominant economic actors, and on enforcement by legal authorities. The proposals imply that the normative resources for change lie outside existing law. This chapter explores an alternative understanding of law based on existing positive law: law as a public service. Dominant economic actors rely on law as a public service. They need legal authorities, especially judges, to declare their neo-liberal economic arrangements legally valid and enforceable. Positive law already offers judges the normative resources to refuse the help of the law whenever neo-liberal economic arrangements structurally lack minimal reciprocity and fairness. Rather than waiting for a global social solidarity movement, judges of Western civil and commercial courts can already make a difference.

This chapter reflects on possibilities for anti-racism in artistic practice. Drawing on the work of the diverse artists we have collaborated with in the project Cultures of Anti-Racism in Latin America (CARLA), I focus on two types of intervention that I believe help us to think about various ways of doing anti-racism through art. The two types are challenging stereotypes and working with communities, and I explore how various artworks engage with these modes of artistic action and how they create emotional traction and affective intensity. The aim of the exercise is to be productive and helpful in the struggle against racism by providing some tools that artists and organisations can use to think strategically about anti-racism as a practice and reflect on the opportunities and risks that attach to different interventions.

As digital technologies for tracking and tracing mineral commodities continue to expand, this chapter evaluates the role of blockchain-inspired systems and the organizations promoting digital certification technologies in mineral supply chain management. Drawing on research conducted in the cobalt mines of Kolwezi in the Democratic Republic of Congo and in mining sites affiliated with De Beers’ GemFair program in Sierra Leone, the chapter explores two key themes. First, it examines how transparency shapes both cobalt –an essential component for enhancing lithium battery performance – and diamonds – an emblem of hyper-consumption – within the broader digital transformation of the extractive industries. Second, it considers this digital turn as an effort to establish disintermediated trust in certification mechanisms formerly reliant on third-party verification. The chapter argues that, while digital transparency is presented as the pinnacle of technological accountability, it simultaneously operates through practices of concealment.

Replete with documentary artefacts, traceability systems, forensic testing, and inspections, organic certification is emblematic of technomoral aspirations and material interventions undertaken in the name of transparency. Based on research conducted in the northern Indian state of Uttarakhand, this chapter explores how organic certification becomes established as a regime of truth through semiotic technologies mobilized to make agricultural production transparent and legible. Probing a question I have frequently encountered – “Is it really organic?” – the chapter attends to what such a question reveals about transparency’s contemporary power. By examining how paper and digital record-keeping, as well as tags and traceability, come together in organic certification, it shows how transparency projects work to make real and to establish thresholds of truth for the objects that they purport only to observe.

Is solidarity possible in societies characterized by the exchange of data, under conditions of digitalization and AI? If not, why not? To answer these questions, I inquire into the emergence of solidarity in two historical cases. The first maps German coal and steel workers’ resistance to exploitation during the industrial revolution in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. The second case explores resistance and community formation by the Maroon, a group of fugitive plantation slaves in eighteenth-century Suriname. I analyse these cases with the help of four heuristic elements: (1) communal living of labourers entailed by the industrialization of a new technology (steam powered industry and slavery-powered plantation agriculture), (2) under-regulation of ensuing labour relations, (3) the emergence of resistant proto-law amongst labourers and (4) the response of repressive-appeasing law by owners and the state. I extract two necessary attributes of solidarity: the sharing of a physical place by labourers forming a community in solidarity, and the location of that place on the inside of a politics of exploitation. I conclude that cybernetics, digitalization and AI undercut the preconditions for solidarity, as they eradicate the sharing of a physical place on the inside of exploitation politics.

This chapter asks how newborns were cared for and charts the formulaic regimen of encouraging babies to cry, watching them change colour, cutting their navel cord, searching their bodies for impediment, bathing them, swaddling them, putting them down to sleep and, finally, suckling them. Medical guides imagined that it would be mothers that did this care, but middling and elite families often hired nurses to manage this laborious regimen. These individuals were often already servants or recommended by family or friends. In the period, servants and others residing within the household were called ‘family’. In this way, making babies was a family project, albeit one in which family members did not have equal stakes and one in which mothers’ and other women’s procreative work was often subsumed within everyday expectations of domestic labour. Although nurses and others who carried out infant care were sought carefully, details about their lives and perspectives are often hard to find in family paperwork, which was often more interested in what procreative experiences said about the family and its name, rather than valuing others’ work.

This chapter outlines the empirical strategy for studying policy triage, which occurs when limited administrative resources and growing policy stocks force agencies to prioritize certain implementation tasks over others. To measure policy triage, the analysis distinguishes between triage frequency and intensity. These dimensions together provide a nuanced assessment of overall implementation performance. The chapter also details the theoretical predictors of policy triage: whether central policymakers can shift blame for failures, whether implementing agencies can mobilize external resources, and whether they are internally committed to achieving policy goals despite resource constraints. To test these claims, the research design focuses on two policy areas — environmental and social policy — across six countries representing diverse administrative traditions. Data collection involves secondary document analysis and 157 expert interviews with implementation officials. By systematically capturing both formal and informal organizational practices, this methodology reveals the complex trade-offs inherent in modern public administration and underscores how different political and organizational conditions jointly shape policy triage.

The Introduction locates transparency in the global governance of agriculture and mineral supply chains. It proposes an analytical focus on the mediations of transparency to tackle the paradox of transparency, a process of mediation that incorrectly understands itself to be a process of disintermediation. This helps to investigate transparency beyond the normative and substantive assessment of its implementation. Rather than assuming that transparency is itself transparent, we ask: What are the technological practices, material qualities, and institutional standards producing transparency? How is transparency standardized, regimented by “ethical” and “responsible” businesses, or valued by traders and investors, from auction rooms to sustainability reports? Acknowledging that transparency is a global value, we question how transparency projects materially organize and semiotically regiment the global production and circulation of commodities across local settings. Focusing on moments and processes of mediation toward disclosure, immediacy, trust, and truth, we introduce how the chapters render transparency observable across sites, actors, institutions, and technologies.

Contemporary Brazilian Indigenous art is rising both in production by and public recognition of artists such as Denilson Baniwa, Jaider Esbell, Naine Terena and Daiara Tukano. Indigenous literature is also becoming increasingly visible with writers such as Daniel Munduruku, Ailton Krenak, Davi Kopenawa, Eliane Potiguara and Julie Dorrico. These trends have opened new spaces for a ‘contest of imaginaries’, expanding possibilities for Indigenous rights. For Brazil’s Indigenous peoples, racism is often connected to land and resource control. So anti-racism often takes the form of a struggle to defend ancestral territories and livelihoods, often associated with the ‘multiplication of differences’, opposing monocultures of all kinds and promoting the creation of spaces for the similarities in life and struggle that connect people across differences. First we give an overview of Brazilian Indigenous movements since the 1970s, introducing recurring themes that have concerned writers and artists. Then we describe the development of contemporary Indigenous literature and visual art in Brazil and their relation to anti-racism, with extended case studies from the Brazilian Amazon and the northeast region.

The chapter addresses the different ways in which Sankofa Danzafro’s Afro-contemporary dance company in Colombia constructs anti-racist narratives. From the perspective of dance as a practice of irruption and an embodied practice, we focus on the role of affective traction in its varied manifestations, which work to assemble collective bodies and discourses. Acting as a site of political enunciation and as a way of resistance-in-motion, dance generates affective atmospheres that make visible and challenge the persistence of structural racism. Among the anti-racist strategies channeled through Sankofa’s Afro-contemporary dance are i) challenging stereotypes about Afro-descendant people by focusing on the message of the dance rather than only its performance; ii) delving into the past, seeking out embodied knowledge and Afro self-referentiality as resources; and iii) developing an Afro-contemporary aesthetic project informed by Afro-Colombian traditional dance and music as well as contemporary styles and rhythms. In particular, the chapter explores Detrás del sur, a recent Sankofa dance work, to see how these anti-racist strategies have informed the creative processes behind the work.