The robots are coming! So too is the âage of automationâ, the âinternet of thingsâ, the âfourth industrial revolutionâ, the march of âinvasiveâ species across the planet, more intense natural disasters and extreme temperatures, and a potential cataclysm of other unprecedented events and phenomena of which we do not yet know, and cannot predict. Possible utopian and dystopian scenarios are not solely the result of human activity but involve numerous ânon-humansâ that create ripples in, and can also dramatically and irrevocably change, the world as we know it. Despite its limitations in capturing âthe multiplicitous ways of (non)lifeâ (Lulka 2009, 383), the term ânon-humansâ refers to the vast array of actants and agents that are enrolled in and affect change across different registers of what humans understand as society, or âthe socialâ.1 Social theorists and scholars have long been fascinated by non-human agency, but there is renewed interest in these curious characters and our relationships with them (e.g., Braun and Whatmore 2010a; Haraway 2016; Gandy 2003). A host of questions are being asked, such as: What exactly are non-humans in relation to humans? How can we best âknowâ, classify, and understand various types of non-human roles and agencies? How are non-humans changing the world, such that the boundaries between what is and isnât human are increasingly blurred? And what do, can, and should we humans do about non-humans, if anything?
Our focus on dynamic non-humans invites enquiry about devices, objects, phenomena, and bodies that appear to have capacity to undertake seemingly independent actions or operate autonomously. Examples include automated devices and software, heatwaves, robots, animals, and plants. They are âdynamicâ in the sense that they are constantly changing, progressing, or âacting upâ, often in ways that humans have minimal control over, understanding of, or input into. We apply the term loosely, and necessarily imprecisely, with the understanding that all non-humans might be categorised as âdynamicâ in one way or another, and that their dynamism likely varies according to different practices, and temporal and spatial scales. This apparent dynamism inspired this collection, raising questions regarding the apparently increasing autonomy, pervasiveness, and potential for extreme consequences that some non-humans pose. We argue that dynamism warrants special attention, or re-attention, through a detailed understanding of non-humansâ positionality, relationality, and roles within social life.
Such investigations are not altogether new. Despite a long history in some disciplines such as science and technology studies (STS), many fields of social enquiry are now beginning to question the absence, or limited presence, of a variety of non-humans from the conceptualisation, interrogation, and analysis of social worlds and in understanding complex contemporary problems like climate change. Through shifts such as the (re)turn to materials (Whatmore 2006), or ânew materialismsâ (Bennett 2010; Coole 2013), the âmissing massesâ once lamented by Latour (1992) are increasingly making their presence felt in disciplines such as political ecology (e.g., Bennett 2010), human and cultural geography (e.g., Anderson and McFarlane 2011), science and technology studies (e.g., Latour 2005; Haraway 1997), sociology (e.g., Meloni 2014), and human-computer interaction design (e.g., Pierce and Paulos 2010). This burgeoning interest is partly a corrective move to decentre humans as the only permissible social actors (Pickering 2008) and partly due to the growing realisation that global challenges such as antibiotic resistance, widespread digital surveillance, and terrorism are not caused by humans alone, but are the product of entangled relations with myriad other, non-human, actors (Greenhough 2010; Haraway 2016; Maller 2018). These dynamic non-humans have the potential to, and do, create chaos despite our best efforts to control or respond to them.
Recognising that dynamic entanglements of humans and non-humans are ubiquitous in social worlds has given rise to âmore-than-humanâ thinking and theories in the social sciences and humanities (e.g., Abram 1997; Bell et al. in press, Whatmore 2002). The term âmore-than-humanâ seeks to move beyond only considering humans and human agency to acknowledge the many human and non-human relations at play in contemporary challenges and everyday life. In this way, more-than-human theories are ârelational ontologiesâ used to understand the connections between humans and the many non-humans on which we depend and with whom we co-exist (Castree 2003). For example, this includes the millions of bacteria and microorganisms that live in, and on, our bodies and homes and without which we would not survive (Yong 2016). More-than-human approaches often draw together knowledge from the social and natural sciences to understand in some detail how non-humans make and shape the world (Maller 2018). Reflecting on these developments towards inter- and cross-disciplinarity, Head (2016) observes the ânaturalâ sciences are turning their attention towards people, while the social sciences are more thoroughly and consistently exploring ânatureâ. Because crossing disciplinary boundaries is relatively new, âscholars are still groping with the implications of these findings and new perspectives ⌠[where] the previously neat categories of technology, or materials, are giving way to more lively configurations of matterâ (Head 2016, 70). The rise of more-than-human thinking is a clear signal that the dynamism of many existing and new non-humans requires, and is generating, renewed attention.
Following the footsteps (or pawprints) of this messy but exciting scholarly territory, this collection delves into one particular theoretical domain where the dynamism of non-humans has attracted some, but so far, limited attention. Theories of social practice have been variously seen to originate in the work of thinkers such as Wittgenstein, Heidegger (Rouse 2007; Schatzki 2016), and Foucault (Rouse 2007; Schatzki 2001). Practice theories were further developed by Giddens (1984), Bourdieu (1990), and Ortner (1984), who each homed in on the practical nature of action, arguing that individual agency and social structure were co-constitutive, and produced through practices. In later theoretical articulations, scholars understand the social world as comprised of recognisable âpracticesâ or practice âentitiesâ, activities that are regularly carried out by multiple human actors over time and space (Schatzki 2001). Practices include many routine activities, such as commuting, cooking and eating, studying, gardening, socialising, as well as professional and organisational practices.
Since the late 1990s and early 2000s, the materially focused, post-humanist2 ideas of Shove and colleagues (Shove 2003; Shove et al. 2012), Schatzki (2002, 2010), Reckwitz (2002a, b), Pickering (1995), and Warde (2005) have been increasingly influential in practice scholarship about contemporary, complex, social and environmental problems. Following developments in STS and actor-network theory (ANT) (e.g., Latour 1992; Law and Hassard 1999), researchers working with these ideas have turned their attention to the material aspects of practices, and the essential roles that non-humans such as appliances, technologies, infrastructures, and devices play in everyday activities from heating or cooling homes and workplaces (Hitchings 2013; Strengers and Maller 2011), washing bodies (Browne et al. 2013), playing sport and doing hobbies (Shove and Pantzar 2005, 2007) and other forms of everyday consumption (Gram-Hanssen 2009; Røpke 2009), through to socio-technical transitions or âsystems of practiceâ (Watson 2012; Walker and Shove 2007).
Despite connecting with post-humanist and more-than-human agendas, recent scholarship grounded in theories of social practice has only gone so far in its treatment of, and interest in, non-humans. Relatively static, bounded, and easily identifiable material objects and technologies, such as showers, air conditioners, freezers, and buildings, have been the dominant focus rather than ecological systems, heat, air, animals, plants, and artificial intelligence.3 However, as noted by others, living, life-like, or otherwise dynamic non-humans carry, express, and share roles and agencies in sometimes confounding and contradictory ways (Bennett 2010; Coole 2013; Strengers et al. 2016) and matter for how practices are performed, emerge, endure, and decline.
One of the starting points for this collection is therefore that the âhuman-likeâ characteristics and agencies of non-humans, like companion animals (Strengers et al. 2016) and robots (Petersen et al. 2017), challenge traditional classifications of âmaterialsâ, âobjectsâ, or âmaterial arrangementsâ in theories of social practice. Indeed, despite growing recognition of non-human agencies and their capacity to create change and intervene in social worlds, in the broad body of work referring to social practices, the âcarriersâ of practices remain decidedly human (e.g., Shove et al. 2012; Simonsen 2012). This becomes potentially problematic when non-humans become âdynamicâ (or perhaps more dynamic than usual), arguably acting performatively, or generally exerting agencies and occupying roles that cannot be confined to common designations, such as an element or organising arrangement of practices. In some ways, maintaining that only humans can carry or perform practices (albeit with material participation) is understandable, if not sensible. For example, in seeking to understand practices of energy use in the context of environmental justice, it makes sense to explore the inequalities and poverty embodied in the social practices as carried by people, within which âthingsâ and resources participate. However, as momentum builds tow...