The outdoors – Page 33 – a sibilant intake of breath

Spring deluges

In four consecutive cycles today, I got drenched, hailed upon, and the progressively drier in the period leading up to the next drenching. Between intense downpours of hail and icy rain, the day has been alternatively overcast in the cheerful way or actually sunny. While raining, the sheer volume of water falling in the air around me was enough to make me fear electrocution by the iPod standard headphones I’ve had to fall back upon since my better headphones broke.

Unwilling to get tricked again, I responded in the afternoon in a manner familiar to all Vancouverites: Gore-Tex shoes, pants, and jacket – topped off with a waterproof hat. If you haven’t noticed, I am the sort to occasionally revel in the technical solution of problems. The shoes, I thank my mother for. She was kind enough to equip me with them while she was in the UK. The jacket I’ve had for ages; the pants, I recall testing with Meghan on a particularly stormy day along Wreck and Tower Beaches, on campus at UBC. The hat did sun protection service in Malta, as well as rain protection service on canoeing trips.

Naturally, now that I am thus equipped, the chances of it raining heavily again on the way to or from the Saint Antony’s International Review (STAIR) launch tonight are virtually nil.

PS. My congratulations to the newly-minted Louise Little, B.Sc (Hons), on the completion of her undegraduate degree.

PPS. Stir fries comprising olive oil, dried chillies, ginger, tofu, bell pepper, mushrooms, tomatoes, and black bean sauce are quite delicious. While they take approximately forty times longer to prepare than the caloric equivalent in bagel-cheese form, it’s probably a worthwhile investment, if only because it makes the house smell like black bean sauce.

Draft research design paper introduction

Preamble

‘Policy making’ can be understood as the application of judgment to problems, on the part of those empowered to make choices that will affect the matters in question. Global environmental policy making, in particular, involves heightened difficulties related to the process of acting upon the world. Firstly, with regards to such large and complex matters as climate change and the management of ecosystems, our understanding of the objective nature of the world is uncertain. This applies both to the functioning of the natural world in the absence of specific human prompts and to the impact that choices made by human beings and organizations will have within the context of natural processes. On the one hand, for instance, we have an imperfect understanding of the functioning of food webs in the absence of human involvement. On the other, we have an incomplete understanding of the effects of pesticide use on those processes.

The major vehicle through which questions about the nature of the world and the consequences of human action are accessed is science. ‘Science’ exists as a collection of methodologies, epistemic communities, and ideals. While the role of science as an entity involved in policy making may seem initially straightforward, complexities arise rapidly. Crucially, these involve the balance between making judgments about ontological questions under circumstances of uncertainly and the balance of making judgments between alternative courses of action. On one hand, for example, scientists can assess the distribution of fallout from atmospheric nuclear tests conducted above islands in the Pacific; on the other, groups of concerned scientists can call for the discontinuation of such tests.

The perceived appropriateness of each of those roles, on the part of scientists, is reflective of the credibility of scientists as individuals and members of communities and organizations, as well as the political understandings that exist about the relationship between expert knowledge and power. All viable environmental policies must be created in light of existing and emerging expert knowledge, but the question of arbitration between descriptive and prescriptive claims is one that raises fundamental issues about how science and policy do, can, and should relate.

The question

This thesis will examine the relationship between science and global environmental policy making on two conceptually separable but intertwined levels. It will so so firstly on the practical level of how environmental science and scientists have been involved in the development of laws and institutions and secondly at the more theoretical level of the understood relationship between the actual communities and idealized roles of scientists and policy makers. While the general answers for each level will be generated through different methodological means, it can be hoped that the insights generated will be mutually reinforcing.

In order to engage with the practical questions of how science has affected policy making, this thesis will examine two case studies: the 2001 Stockholm Convention on Persistent Organic Pollutants and the 1997 Kyoto Protocol to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change. The first can be seen as an example of a mechanism where a scientific understanding emerged of the issue in question and a reasonably effective legal regime for its mitigation emerged. The second example demonstrates a situation in which, for reasons which shall be examined, a similar progression from issue identification to effective policy action has not taken place. The contrast between the cases will hopefully allow for the isolation of important variables, on the basis of the comparative study of preparatory documentation and the first-hand impressions of the participants.

The theoretical component of this thesis will use the controversy surrounding the publication of Bjorn Lomborg’s The Skeptical Environmentalist in 2001 as a starting point for addressing the internal debate within the scientific and policy communities about the role that science and scientists should play in the making of decisions that entail both potentially enormous costs and equally serious risks. The theoretical discussion will also involve the examination of the secondary literature on the philosophy of science, as well as the relationship of science and policy in related fields: such as global health and development studies.

The thesis will consider the competing hypotheses that the general understanding of science as a descriptive adjunct to the prescriptive policy making process is broadly valid, that is is overly simplistic given the multifaceted nature of the epistemic communities involved, and that it might be a fundamentally inappropriate way of representing a corpus of thinking, institutions, and individuals which is actually incapable of operating without concealed normative maneuverings. These possibilities will be assessed through consideration of the examples listed above, as well as the analysis of primary and secondary documentation.

See also: Research design essay planning (15 May 2006)

Deflated oval

On account of the gorgeous weather early this afternoon, I took a break from the research design and great powers/unipolarity essays to go cycling. Having already gone out and back to the north and south, I decided to head out west from central Oxford, then divert north, east, and then back south to Church Walk. I went 27km all told, along a route resembling a misshapen oval. Starting by passing under the train tracks beside the Oxford station, I rode west through Botley and Farmoor, before diverting mostly north to Eynsham – where sandwiches were secured. From there, I took the A40 to Cassington.

At the top of the long arc, north of Oxford, I had the misfortune of suffering a puncture in my rear tire. Nervous about ruining the wheel, I walked the bike just shy of six miles: from between Cassington and Yarnton, back into north Oxford. That was necessary because none of the buses entering Oxford from the north are allowed to carry bikes and years of educational videos made me too hesitant to try hitchiking, despite having recently read Kerouac. Thankfully, I was able to do reach Church Walk just before it began to rain.

Fixing a punctured rear tire exceeds my bike maintenance experience. The need to deal with the derailleur is a complicating factor. Additionally, my bike pump has been missing for weeks and I don’t have a suitable wrench, nor plastic levers for the removal of the tire. I will find out how much it would cost to have fixed in a shop, before I decide whether or not to make an oily attempt at it myself. I have already searched my room and all common areas of the house at least three times for the pump, without luck. I’ve also interrogated my roommates and pondered who I could possibly have lent it to. I distinctly remember telling someone that I had my doubts about whether it was really high pressure enough for road bike tires, but that they were welcome to give it a try…

Warm night

Tonight was the first time this year I’ve walked home at night in short sleeves and felt entirely comfortable doing so. Naturally, it reminded me of all the best times when I’ve been able to wander around in cities on bright, cool nights just after the sun has set: after Judo lessons back in North Vancouver, with Alison and Viktoria in Toronto last summer, and during the summer language bursary program in Montreal. In all those and other cases, I remember the incredible sense of ease that accompanies being free and comfortable in uncrowded streets.

The psychological effect of the pleasing climate is enormous, because it changes the way you feel about being in territory that isn’t under your control. During the icy morning in Chichester, frigid walks in Helsinki, or confused meanderings in London during the winter, I was always plotting where I would get some food, where I could get warm, where I could sleep. This leads to calculations of how long you can linger in a Starbucks with or without buying a drink, what time warm open spaces like malls and bookshops close, and how far you have wandered from the nearest place that you have a key or friend that can yet you into.

Wandering on a warm night, by contrast, projects at least the fiction that all the world is reasonably hospitable: that you can wander almost anywhere with few worries and comfort and adventure are simultaneously possible.

Oxford spring

Living in leafy northern Oxford as everything is coming to life again is quite lovely. Taking a break from working on my paper, I went for a bit of a walk this evening and discovered a whole district of intriguing houses to the northeast of Church Walk: the sort with unusual architecture, big gardens, and streets that are not subject to the indignity of traffic. There were even the semi-circular sweeping rows of connected houses that seemed to be so common in Bath, but which I had not yet seen here. The next time I am ambling with someone, I will try to find the place again.

The best place to experience Oxford in the winter, I think, is the Christ Church Meadow. Walking along the Isis in the chilly wind, looking up at denuded trees which readily reveal the mistletoe colonies inside, there is a sense of pristine desolation. The waterfowl, then, seem like sympathetic fellow victims of the cold and gloom. It isn’t clear to me yet where the embodiment of spring in Oxford will reside, but it may well be in some leafy suburban street, amongst the twittering of birds in the evening.

Tomorrow, I have most of my week’s mandatory activities compressed together over a period of about twelve hours: the core seminar, the Changing Character of War seminar, the research design seminar, the strategic studies dinner, the strategic studies meeting, and the obligatory brief strategic studies foray to The Turf. During that time, perhaps I will meet someone interesting again this week.

Possibly as the result of trying to work on an essay for most of the day (with welcome conversations with Kai and Emily as asides), my brain is feeling a bit like a slightly crushed paper cup: as though it has had too much caffeine or too little, or is trying hard to suppress a relatively mild illness. It doesn’t make me keen on the process of finalizing and editing my Cold War paper tonight, but that’s my own fault for not getting it done earlier. Oxford has definitely been worsening my study skills; work I would have once done well in advance and had checked gets finished at the last minute instead. When the workload is just a series of hurdles and none of your work actually gets graded, the incentives tend towards encouraging such an approach.

Long summer bike ride

Happy Birthday Greg Polakoff

Today was unambiguously the first summery day in Oxford. As seemed to befit it, I went on my longest bike ride so far: 42.6km from Oxford to Blenheim Palace and Woodstock, then back via Kidlington. I’ve heard that Blenheim Palace and gardens are really nice, but I definitely wasn’t willing to pay eleven Pounds to get in. Instead, I found a shady spot outside Woodstock and read Kerouac’s On the Road for a few hours. While sitting in the shade, molested but unbitten by flies, I actually saw what I can only conclude was a pheasant: a big, red, darting sort of bird that ran off and hid when I tried to photograph it. I also saw huge numbers of cow, sheep, and horses – as well as rabbits and lots of birds.

After leaving Woodstock, I found the road between Kidlington (which is on the way to Oxford) and Deddington (which I walked to one night). Once I realized that Deddington was a further nine miles from where I found that road, I veered off eastwards and found the much smaller town of Tackley. Throughout the ride, there was nice countryside. It would have been perfect but for the strangely insistent sun and the truck that caused me to slam my hand against a metal fence by not signaling when it was exiting from a roundabout. If I hadn’t checked, it would have been overall splattering from under-correction, rather than one nasty bang from over-correction.

I am enjoying On the Road. It has what I would call a Catcher in the Rye narrator: someone focused on being self-sufficient, somehow outside the system, but still caring and generous. The book makes me want to take another road trip in the US.

Instead, I should spend the rest of tonight burnishing thesis ideas for presentation to Dr. Hurrell tomorrow.

Late night May Day plans

At 2:17am I made plans to attend the May Day celebration on the Port Meadow at 6:00am. Given that I am already feeling excessively awake – for no reason I can easily identify – I think I will just stay up until then. There’s nothing like a neo-pagan fertility rite to welcome the arrival of springtime. According to Wikipedia:

Traditional English May Day rites and celebrations include Morris dancing, crowning a May Queen, celebrating Green Man day and dancing around a Maypole. Much of this tradition derives from the pagan festival of Beltane. May Day has been a traditional day of festivities throughout the centuries. It is most associated with towns and villages celebrating springtime fertility and revelry with fetes and community gatherings. Perhaps the most significant of the traditions is the May Pole, around which traditional dancers circle with ribbons.

There is more information available here.

Apparently, Emily’s sculptor-father is in charge of the celebrations taking place on the Port Meadow. This makes them especially interesting for those of us in the program, and especially those of us who have met him.

Oxford exploration

This morning, I was woken by the 9:00am booming of our local clock tower. Since it was already the time when I was meant to meet Sheena and Emily to start the Oxford tour for Martin Ziguele, the former Prime Minister of the Central African Republic, I had to roll straight out of bed and into a suit: arriving outside St. Antony’s at six past nine.

The tour itself was very generic: Christ Church meadows, the Radcliffe Square, and up Parks Road. One notable sight was an actually Greylag gosling, beside the Isis. It was your stereotypical yellow puffball, and the parents visibly and audibly disapproved of my attempts to photograph it. Emily and I made efforts to describe things in French, where feasible, and impart some of the anecdotal Oxford history that gets absorbed by all students here.

In the afternoon, I took another bike ride out into the village-strewn countryside surrounding Oxford. This time, I headed southward, across Magdalen Bridge and way down the Cowley Road. I went past the BMW plant at the end of the Cowley Road, then up the hill near Garsington (N51 43.191, W001 09.678). From Church Walk to there and back is 22km.

He hill didn’t offer as nice a view as the hills around Bath did, but it was nonetheless the most pronounced elevation I’ve climbed near Oxford. In response to Tristan’s post requesting top speeds, I made an attempt to see how fast I could go before my gears became more or less useless, on a slight downslope in the countryside south of Oxford. I managed 48.2km/h, which isn’t bad for a bicycle.

PS. I need to remember to email Peter Dauvergne about my thesis idea. Since I need to go a presentation on it in our methods seminar next Tuesday, I need to have a decent idea of the important methodological questions involved.

Pastoral wandering

I spent most of today exploring the area around Church Walk. The best discovery, by far, is that we are only two turns and six minutes away from the Port Meadow. Sitting beside the flooded portion of the meadow, immersed the direct afternoon sun, there was the uncanny sense of being profoundly disconnected from my whole environment. I could even see the blood vessels in my retinas: silhouetted in green against the grass and sky.

Out there in the late afternoon, with sun, breeze, and a brie baguette, it was a supremely attractive place. As the sun set, and its light grew redder, all the trees and church spires in the distance were cast with shadows and gorgeous hues. Living right beside a church spire conjures a really effective sense of place.

Seeing all this made me look forward to the summer, when I will have only financial and vague thesis commitments with which to concern myself. Our local environment seems to be the kind of place in which you need to spend a lot of time wandering alone, before you might bring some trusted individual along with you. As most of my trusted individuals are very far from here at present, it’s an arrangement that suits me well.

QT strategy

Thinking about the QT, the question now seems to be whether it is worthwhile to push for a distinction. On the basis of the revision I have already done and my practice exam, Dr. Hurrell predicts that I will score in the high sixties. The amount of effort required to push that into the low seventies is probably very high: considering only a couple of people among the 28 in the program are likely to achieve that. The benefits are mostly prestige vis a vis the faculty and fellow students. The best plan, I think, is simply to prepare to a good extent – focusing on the shortfalls that Dr. Hurrell identified – and hope for inspiration to strike on the day of the exam.

Gozo visit

Today’s expedition was to Gozo: the second largest island in Malta, reached by means of a twenty minute ferry ride. Like the island of Malta, Gozo is speckled with churches of a distinctive architectural style, each of which serves as the most visible component of the towns of golden-yellow stone that dot the coastlines and hilltops.

Unlike previous days, our Gozo tour happened primarily by minibus. This allowed us to see what seemed to be a good cross section of the island’s attractions, and left our legs feeling strangely fresh at the end of the day. We saw a number of churches, the citadel, and a remarkable natural feature on the coastline called the Azure Window. I will make sure to post some images of it once I return to Oxford. It consists of a pillar connected to the land by a flat slab. Beneath it, the surprisingly violent waters of the Mediterranean churn.

The tour group format of this whole trip is quite unfamiliar to me. I am learning that it definitely has advantages: primarily insofar as housing and transport are arranged. Never having to mess about learning how to get places and waiting for buses really increases what you can see over a period of time. There is also value in being able to converse with relative strangers who you will nonetheless see again and again over the course of the week. I tend to work my way to the front of the column of walkers, pause to take a photo or two, and end up at the back again. This gives me a regular rotation through the ranks of our fellow travellers.

March may be the ideal time to visit Malta. The attractions of the place – like those of Italy – are split between the aesthetic and the historical. It has certainly been very sunny here, though not nearly so warm as July or August threaten to be. As such, we’ve been reasonably comfortable walking the terraced hills: looking at the cacti and lizards, as well as stopping regularly at the innumerable cafes. Malta certainly has more to it than you expect of a sun-and-sand style destination, and it’s certainly helpful that absolutely everyone seems to speak good English.

I dispatched a second wave of postcards today. Unfortunately, I forgot that the only copy I have of most people’s addresses is the one in my iPod – which I decided at the last minute to leave in Oxford. Thankfully, to send cards to people in Oxford requires only memory of which college they are at. I will also send postcards to as many people as possible who emailed me their addresses when I was in Estonia. With 81 emails in my inbox (as well as more than 200 automatically marked as spam) and the internet expensive and frustrating to use in the hotel, new contributions are not being solicited at this time.

The next two days are the last real touring days. Each is meant to involve a fairly long walk, which I am keen on after a day with relatively little exercise in it. I am onto my third roll of film (the second roll of T-Max 400, with another roll of HD400 untouched) and I’ve filled half of the 512MB memory card in my camera. Obviously, only a fraction of those shots will ultimately be good enough to post, but I am already looking forward to picking out the best (and removing the irksome fungus blotches from the digital shots). Mostly, the photos have been of the landscapes, though anything distant tends to be obscured by haze. I’ve also been chasing around some of the local wildlife. The birds in tiny cages that the hunters use as lures are easy enough to snap a photo of, though the result is as depressing as you would expect.

One thing that I miss about self-directed travel is the freedom to choose where you eat. The simple lunches of cheese, bread, and tomatoes that my mother and I have been eating are probably tastier, and certainly better value, than the hotel meals, which are fairly generic and not very vegetarian friendly. It’s certainly decent fare, but obviously geared towards meat eating Brits who are not very adventurous.

My return to Oxford will probably be late on the night of April 1st, after I see The Producers in London with my mother. Anyone who is burning with anticipation for an email response or a photo posted to the blog had best find something else to occupy their attention until then.