Anne Surma

Philosopher Jacques Rancière asserts that today ‘real politics appears to be the implementation of a fiction: the fiction that decides who is legal and who illegal on a territory and the thresholds of tolerance that ensure security and harmony in a country’. Through his ‘political poetics’, Behrouz Boochani’s own distinctive use of language also expressly challenges this fiction, as well as the competitive (neoliberal) register of present-day politics. Alert to historical injustice, contemporary political struggle, and the uncertain future of humanity, Boochani rebuts the claim that some lives matter less than others, or that some lives do not matter at all. His writing ruptures the seeming coherence of dominant truths, producing alternative narratives – structures of fiction – to inform the possibility of critical social change....

The nebulous practices and tropes of ‘neoliberalism’, the rather loose political movement that has propelled the idea of ‘market society’, as well as commodified notions of the ‘individual’ and ‘freedom’, remain deeply embedded in contemporary public debates and cultural activity, including in public relations (Surma and Demetrious, 2018). Under neoliberalism, human subjects are normatively understood as rational and competitive market actors; private and public domains are reconceived as markets; and ethical questions are recast as principally monetised or calculable concerns. This is no more evident than in current debates about energy and climate and about refugees (Demetrious, 2019; Surma, 2018)...

In the contemporary neoliberal environment, writing is readily recognized as a commercially useful skill and service. Thus, along with other social practices, writing may be increasingly evaluated in terms of its instrumental properties and potential: as a quantitatively assessable function, and as a means of achieving measurable results. This perspective on writing may be further reinforced by means of various writing technologies, such as grammar and editing software, whose use within and outside the academy is now widespread. Taking a critical cosmopolitan perspective, the chapter argues that the concentration on the mechanical and measurable aspects of writing encouraged by the use and prevalence of such technologies demands that we pay continued and careful attention to writing’s qualitative—social, ethical, rhetorical and discursive—dimensions. Drawing on the example of grammar and editing software Grammarly, the chapter considers a cosmopolitan orientation to writing as a challenge to potentially reductive, largely technical assessments of its value and significance as social practice.

On 9 December 2017, The Saturday Paper published ‘A Letter from Manus Island’, an essay and manifesto written by Behrouz Boochani, a Kurdish journalist and refugee being held on Manus Island with hundreds of other men. Boochani writes in a radical, ‘poetic’ voice that makes the ordinary strange again, as he talks of love, the interdependence of human beings, and the strength to be derived from acts of solidarity. He challenges not only the prevailing vituperative tenor of contemporary public rhetoric, but also the dehumanising discourses within which humanitarian practices in Australia, and in the west more broadly, operate. This paper is written as a letter, in direct reply to Boochani’s own. It is inspired by Lilie Chouliaraki’s critique of contemporary practices of humanitarianism and the ways in which politics, the market and technology have transformed ‘the moral dispositions of our public life’. It explores the unsettling effects and provocative insights presented by Boochani’s poetic voice – the refugee as human subject and agent rather than victim or object of pity (or hate). The paper thus reflects on our conventional responses to the ethical call to solidarity from vulnerable subjects and imagines how we might respond otherwise.

In Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, a small group of women run their business out of a bus station, using manual typewriters to produce letters, reports, CVs, and fiction (Kwibuka 2013). The women are valued by their clients because they are knowledgeable and particularly proficient in producing administrative correspondence in ‘crystal clear Kinyarwanda’ (Kwibuka 2013). As part of its nation-building attempts following the genocide of the 1990s, English became the official language in Rwanda. However, while 90 percent of the population speaks Kinyarwanda, 8 percent speak French, and only 4 percent—principally the nation’s ruling elite—speak English (Africa Portal 2012). However, the women’s work is now under threat since a shop offering print and Internet services has opened behind their wooden bench ‘office’; as well, street vending is banned, so the women risk being removed by the city’s officials at any time.

This story provides a salutary reminder of how writing practices have been radically transformed by globalization processes. At the same time, it reminds us that writing, for all its potential for dissemination via myriad advanced technologies and media, is still a material, social practice, one motivated by specific purposes and having specific direct and indirect impacts. The Kigali typists and the writing they do represent a local and intimate social practice and a language (spoken by the majority of the population), which assert their interdependence, significance, and value alongside more technologically sophisticated, systematized communications processes, infrastructure, and exchange. However, there is no question that this local practice is dynamically tied to and modified by changes at a global level, and that it is becoming increasingly marginalized as an officially recognized means of communicating with others.

As a trope for the focus of this chapter, the context and activities of the Kigali typists can be interpreted from a critical cosmopolitan perspective, where writing in the local language is interpreted as a practice of the ethics of care. This is not intended to be a sentimental vision, however. Rather, it is one situated in a specific material and historical context in dialectical tension with competing interests and relationships, alternative languages, and modes of writing through local and global networks. In a context of globalization, involving the accelerated movements and flows of people, finance, trade, services, ideas, and communications across local, national, and international boundaries, the vernacular language of care, human interdependence, and responsibility may be subdued or even stymied. Thus the writing that the Kigali typists do in Kinyarwanda, the local language, is an expression of how care for others plays an integral part in supporting and enriching local and, even if indirectly, global interactions. That the practice and value of care struggles to survive and risks being subdued in a world where economic, corporate, or political expediencies have gained prominence does not lessen its centrality as a means of connecting us to and enriching our relationships with one another. In this chapter, I argue that writing (regardless of form or mode) calls up or signifies a relationship with and responsibility to the other, even when it explicitly denies it, and I aim to show that writing, as an encounter with the other, also has the potential to resist the dehumanizing and decontextualizing effects of a market economy-driven globalization.

I first outline my critical cosmopolitan approach to writing, one developed by drawing together threads from and reweaving the work of key theorists. I then turn to an analysis of recent writing on asylum seekers by the Australian Government. Here the intention is to demonstrate the part writing plays in articulating and shaping the nation’s relationship with asylum seekers in a globalized environment. I explore how an increasingly strident, textual government voice, one that denies the humanity of the (‘foreign’, non-citizen) other, that elides an obligation to vulnerable subjects, and that insists on a parochial and restrictive notion of hospitality and home, is nonetheless insistently shadowed and disrupted by the responsibility to care and to forge caring, cosmopolitan relations with others far and near.

In reaction to the opening up or redrawing of the world’s borders – virtual and real, material and ideological –the language of conventional western political communication seems to become increasingly dogmatic and even strident. In this paper, I argue that critical cosmopolitanism provides a framework within which students, teachers, researchers and practitioners can explore contemporary issues represented in the writing of literary fiction as a means of critiquing the limited and limiting vision of such political writing. I outline a critical cosmopolitan orientation to approaching, practising and reviewing writing practices in the global public domain, primarily an ethical and relational endeavour, alert to writers’ obligations to (often distant and unknown) others, as well as to the complexity and ambivalence of those relationships. The paper then explore show Lloyd Jones novel, Hand me down world, serves to trouble the text of the Australian Government’s ‘No to people smuggling’ campaign. As a means of disrupting its (non-fiction) other, fiction writing can offer us ethical, political and aesthetic insights into imagining alternative relations between subjects situated within and moving across shifting borders.

The notion that contemporary society as a knowledge economy is undergoing profound transformation has implications for the occupation of public relations, as well as the professional and personal identities of public relations practitioners. With the increasing erosion of once clear demarcations between people, time, space and communication technologies, public relations practitioners experience increasing tensions in their encounters between self and other, private and public, economic and cultural factors. We are interested in how women in public relations undertake identity work as a way of responding to these pressures, notably at the point where their home and work lives intersect. In interviews and focus groups conducted in Perth, Western Australia, women of different ages and career backgrounds related their experiences of juggling multiple roles including worker, mother, partner, friend, parent or grandparent. The findings reveal a set of complex identity constructions that indicate that some women are successful in separating professional and personal identities, while others are unable to resist work as an all-encompassing activity and as the marker of a meaningful identity. To develop as a public relations practitioner involves not only the social expectations of what it means to be a professional coupled with an individual’s presentation of themselves in public relations. It also involves a changeable relationship that expands over the whole life situation, including career trajectories and family life stages. A recognition of this set of circumstances prompts further research questions in relation to public relations and its specific influence on gendered, identity and relationship practices, and has significant implications for the profession more broadly.