In 1820 two French scientists – Pierre Joseph Pelletier and Jean Bienaimé Caventou – discovered and named the active alkaloid substance extracted from cinchona bark: quinine. The bark from the ‘wondrous’ fever tree, and its antimalarial properties, however, had long been known to both colonial scientists and indigenous Peruvians. From the mid-seventeenth century, cinchona bark, taken from trees that grow on the eastern slopes of the Andes, was part of a global circulation of botanical knowledge, practice and profit. By the 1850s, Europeans eager to bypass South American trade routes to access cinchona plants established plantations across the global South in French Algeria, Dutch Java and British India. Wardian cases – plant terrariums named after British physician Nathaniel Bagshaw Ward – would fuel new imperial efforts to curb malaria, contemporaries argued. And yet cinchona trees proved difficult to transport over land and sea, and did not easily or universally thrive in new tropical climates. As a result of the growing demand and uncertainty around cinchona, as Pratik Chakrabarti has argued, from the late eighteenth century there was ‘a global scientific obsession’ with finding a ‘substitute’ for cinchona, particularly local alternatives in India and China.1

The interface of science and law is a territory frequently occupied by policymakers. In facilitating this interface, epistemic communities have become significant influencers in policymaking, especially at the European Union (EU) level, as a result of its complex multilevel governance system. In this article we assess the quality and nature of interactions between epistemic communities and EU stakeholders on the Horizon-funded project ‘PrecisionTox’, by deploying the concept of epistemic communities developed by Haas, as well as the learning modes of epistemic communities as presented and adapted by Dunlop. The overarching goal of PrecisionTox is to advance the safety assessment of chemicals by establishing a new, cost-effective testing paradigm built from evolutionary theory, which entails reduction, replacement, and refinement of mammalian testing (the 3Rs). The study shows that EU-funded projects can provide an excellent platform for building epistemic communities and forging alliances with EU policymakers, especially when novel technologies may be unlocked and socialized. This study also explores the early interaction of policymakers with epistemic communities through different forms of learning to better understand the complexities surrounding these new technologies in order to set an agenda for policy interventions.

Historiographic studies of transnational environmental law (TEL) are increasingly relevant as scholars and practitioners search for ways in which to deliver more quickly and efficiently effective regulation that is responsive to global environmental issues. This article uses new and original archival research to better locate the Convention for the Preservation of Wild Animals, Birds and Fish in Africa (1900 London Convention) in its legal-scientific historical context. Most of the scholarship on this topic draws on historian John M. MacKenzie's groundbreaking analysis of what he called ‘the hunting cult’ and its role in the imperial advance into India, Africa, and elsewhere. When viewed through the dual lens of legal history and the history of science, the late 19th and early 20th centuries represented a period of transition during which a new science-based perspective advanced by evolutionary biologists was embraced by science-minded policymakers, and expressed in domestic law and foreign policy aimed at the preservation of endangered species and the protection of biodiversity. The 1900 London Convention is an early example of a modern TEL instrument informed by science and by values that today most recognize as being critically important and universal. The new history in this article also resonates as an example of how polarizing political narratives can delay law reform and the importance of maintaining focus on collaborative problem solving and science-based regulation of complex transnational environmental issues.

An (ongoing) interrogation of colonial wrongdoing is important for debates on decolonisation, restorative justice, racial and gender equality and global political and socio-economic equality. This article presents a theoretical study of colonialism’s legal-political injustices and aims to (re)turn the discussion on colonialism to the field’s most powerful insight, i.e. that of of epistemic violence and injustice. This article also suggests that the reach of this historical injustice went much further than the politics of autonomy, usurpation of territorial rights, political disenfranchisement and resource appropriation. To address the question of colonialism’s distinctiveness as a political mission, which has been discussed in recent debates within analytic philosophy, it argues that colonialism’s epistemic injustice, which denied the very existence and the traditions of the colonised, is the foundational and distinctive feature of colonialism as a political system and which drives its continued impact to this day.

With the economic and political support of the United States, in July 1947, Turkey signed contracts with the Westinghouse Electric International Company and J.G. White Engineering Corporation to construct its first international civilian airport, Istanbul's Yeşilköy Airport. As this article will argue, the building of Yeşilköy (1949–53), through a partnership with two American engineering firms, is essentially an early Cold War narrative of transnational exchange involving the multidirectional flow of technical knowledge, expertise and resources between the United States and Turkey; the circulation of geopolitically significant (and frequently competing) military, civilian and government actors; and the local and global implications of these transmissions. Yet the Yeşilköy construction narrative also illustrates how post-war technology transfer was a highly political process of constant adaptation, modification and negotiation. Fraught with unforeseen friction and thorny challenges, Yeşilköy exemplifies the complicated American Cold War strategy of creating and maintaining alliances through engineering knowledge, personnel and practices, often with unintended consequences. Moreover, as a case study, Yeşilköy opens a new window into the cautious science diplomacy that occurred along the Iron Curtain, while filling a notable historiographic gap with respect to aviation in early Cold War Turkey.

Recent years have seen increasing calls by a few scientists, largely from the Global North, to explore “solar geoengineering,” a set of speculative technologies that would reflect parts of incoming sunlight back into space and, if deployed at planetary scale, have an average cooling effect. Numerous concerns about the development of such speculative technologies include the many ecological risks and uncertainties as well as unresolved questions of global governance and global justice. This essay starts with the premise that solar geoengineering at planetary scale is unlikely to be governable in a globally inclusive and just manner. Thus, the ethically sound approach is to pursue governance that leads to the nonuse of planetary solar geoengineering. Yet is such a prohibitory agreement feasible, in the face of possible opposition by a few powerful states and other interests? Drawing on social science research and a host of existing transnational and international governance arrangements, this essay offers three illustrative pathways through which a nonuse norm for solar geoengineering could emerge and become diffused and institutionalized in global politics: (1) civil society-led transnational approaches; (2) regionally led state and civil society hybrid approaches; and (3) like-minded or “Schengen-style” club initiatives led by states.