Every now and then I find myself reading a book that seems to defy classification, not that classification should be important but we also know that having a sense of genre or discipline helps us make sense of how to approach our reading. In this case, the authors unsettle codes – Weizman, an architect, has done important work on the spatial practices of colonialism and runs a multi-media, IT-based forensic (as in, in the interests of law) research programme, while Fuller is a cultural studies academic. Verso, the publisher, have this book listed in their ‘Politics’ list, and there is plenty of discussion of our so-called ‘post-Truth’ world and fakery.
Yet, and this no doubt reflects my position as much as anything else, I read this a research methods/philosophy of research text, trying to unpack how the ways they present their discussion ties into how we find out stuff and how we know. That is, I kept coming across epistemological and ontological insights – in part I suspect because much of the big data and deep dive forensic material they discuss is not only outside my ways of work, but at least at the level of detail of practice, beyond me. But whichever way I recognised it as a text – as how to think about exploring and constructing knowledge (research) or how much of the discourse of the public sphere works, this is an exciting, important, ever-so-slightly-mind-bending book. It is also one that quite properly defies clean and clear classification.
At the heart of the book is the not particularly new argument that good research and investigation requires that we adopt multiple perspectives (or in their language is poly-perspectival). Although many have been making this case for a long time, it remains a contested position with disciplinary and theoretical dogmatism widespread despite the failure of most research to grasp the complexities of lived experience and despite the premise of disciplines that aspects of knowledge and experience can be sequestered from others.
While engaging with this longstanding philosophical debate, they develop sharp new insights and problematize one of the more fundamental aspects of investigations – and this is where part of the power of the book lies. This is the ‘aesthetic’ aspect of the argument. This is not ‘aesthetic’ in terms of beauty or any of the other usual ways the term is invoked, but in terms of aesthesis as the notion in aspects of ancient Greek philosophy to do with the senses. Here they argue that investigation is both a process of sensing – that is of feeling, registering and being affected, of engagement often beyond the ‘rational’ – and sense-making – that is, of making sense, explaining and, in some ways, making things rational. Drawing out this point debunks many of the myths of research and investigative practice.
This question of being affected then allows them to open up two further questions. The first they call hyper-aesthetics where experiences and affects may explored and elaborated. One of the cases they discuss here is a project Weizman’s agency did with people formerly detained in ‘dark detention’ sites during investigations of extraordinary rendition, where although most detainees were blindfolded or the space darkened, for instance, through careful reconstruction using sound and spatial clues they were able to map the layout of various sites and in some cases identify them. This focus on affect in research and investigation allows us to explore with much more nuance and subtlety.
Yet there are also times when circumstances becomes overwhelming – which Fuller and Wiezman label hyperaesthesia where experiential overload or collapse means that sensation stops making sense. Instances of this they discuss include cases where, for instance, in response damning news stories (chemical attacks by states on their citizens for instance) news outlets are flooded by those perpetrators with images that overwhelm the evidence on which the story is based. In this case, the excess of information weakens the affective power of the news story. They suggest that similar cases occur with large scale information leaks and information dumps, such that while, for instance, Wikileaks wholesale release of files was arguably necessary to get them into the public domain before states could act to prevent the information release, it also overwhelmed and undermined the power of a more judicious set of releases.
Alongside this notion of aesthetics – of sensing and sense-making – they also explore modes of and approaches to investigation, in part using the conventional distinctions that turn around the language of objectivism and subjectivism in inquiries, as well as positivist, post-positivist and post-humanist outlooks. This is to be expected in any discussion of research and investigation, but there is also a more subtle engagement with questions of politics and power where they explore the tensions between iterative and revelatory aspects of any research or investigation. This takes them into discussions of different sorts of causation – of minimal causation (that is, direct and demonstrable causes) and of field causation (that is, of social, cultural, environmental and other causal forces that are more difficult to demonstrate in individual cases). The reminder that both are forms of casuation is helpful in that it is a reminder of the importance of poly-perspectival approaches and the dangers of overstating causation in generalizable terms. (Much of this discussion of investigation also delves into the potential of machine investigation, but that’s another aspect that’s beyond me in detail.)
These various questions of the multiplicities of investigation – of sensing and sense-making, of poly-perspectival practice, of nuance and subtlety and the unevenness of minimal causation and field causality – leads them to two propositions. In the first they suggest that research/investigation both exposes and constructs investigative commons, bringing together “a combination of aesthetic, political and epistemic structures” (p 195) including shared understandings as well as sites of labour and of presenting evidence. This builds on a notion that research is a shared and collective process and calls for a high degree of openness, ecumenism even, in our investigations. Second, they remind us of the importance of different sites of research/inquiry – of the lab as a site of isolation and testing, and of the studio where elaboration and imagination hold sway – as all being necessary alongside the forum as a site for broadcasting of those inquiries and their outcomes.
And yet even all of this makes the book sound much less than it is as Fuller and Weizman bring their multiple sites of inquiry, their many methods and their interests in uncovering power and its techniques of obfuscation and hyperesthesia to bring these issues to life. For me, the book is welcome because reminds us of these aesthetic aspects of any investigation, of the affective elements of our work, of immersion and sensation and of the hunches and feelings for lines of inquiry they produce. But it is also a timely reminder of the power of aesthetics to seduce, of affect as a vital element of the ‘post-Truth’ world. When added to case made for an investigative commons this is all the more powerful.
So, while there was much in the big picture here that sat quite comfortably with things that have been part of the ways I have thought, done and taught research and investigative methods for many years, the discussion is invigorating, the emphasis on affect especially welcome along with notion of research as a process of becoming makes this a book that is great to think and to think with. I’m sure others more au fait with machine and big data inquiries will find much more. I suspect more than one of my research students will have this pushed their way sooner rather than later.