Who decides what is good for us?

With the idea of stable water thrown into the tailspin of prevailing/emerging water crises, the need to define ‘safe operating space’ for humans to work within the planetary boundaries was never more compelling.  

Cape Town may be the first waterless city and surely not the last, but that humans are drawing more than their geological share of water should make us shudder as things are becoming worse before getting any better. From surplus to scarcity, human interference with global water systems has turned it into an issue of security, requiring new ways of managing water in the age of the anthropocene. With the idea of stable water thrown into a tailspin, there is an urgent need to define ‘safe operating space’ for humans to work within the planetary boundaries for sustaining life and life forms.  

By altering the planetary systems humans themselves have attained the status of a geological force, influencing the philosophy of water management that connects culture, geography, and economics to lose its relevance. Far from inducing equitable access to water across sectors, the global impact of the American approach to water management has triggered brazen water grab not only within the local hydrological limits but beyond regional and national boundaries too. Unless this predominant approach is questioned, argues Jeremy Schmidt, addressing inequalities that exist on a geological scale cannot be addressed. 

And, there is no opportune time to question it than now as humanity’s total share of natural materials and energetic throughput accelerates at a phenomenal pace. While it is agreed that dividing humans from nature may not help in understanding its impact on natural processes, a failed attempt to reject the society/nature dualism in the past had engineered oppressive logic which enhanced the prospects of meeting certain ends rather than others. The book asks: how do contradictions over water, such as those over the right to water, gain civil status?  

The trouble with single planetary story on water, triggered by a techno-centric philosophy of water management, is that while it does not deny that alternatives exist but simply posits that we should do without them. Instead, Schmidt presents three philosophical concerns to counter it: first, water resources should be managed without privileging any particular cultural understanding; second, acknowledge different social relations that take shape around different water use practices; and third, appreciate the different symbolic ends that others may hold as intrinsically meaningful. 

These three concerns – over subjects, social relations, and symbolic goods – could be critical entry points into initiating a new discourse on water management, as the paradigm of ‘making things public’ is inadequate since it fails to see that water problems are the outcome of a failed 19th century solution associated with the society/nature dualism. Although this argument may seem troublesome to emerging social entrepreneurship around water, the basic contention here is to ask what questions arise for modernity as the result of water management practices instead of thinking about water through a theory of modernity. 

Relying on volumes of historical sources, the book attempts to bridge an understanding on engineering solutions relate to the social ideas that informed them. As we are now part of an ‘unfolding water drama’, there is a great deal required to depart from the previous ways into new ways of managing water in the anthropocene. The challenge, however, for the global water governance is that it does not substantively depart from the philosophy that gave rise to the problems it seeks to solve. Schmidt does not offer any solution, but attempts to implicate ideas widely held in water management that have contributed to unequal water relations.

Making a strong case for re imagining water management, Schmidt refuses to think of water as only a resource because it lends credence to the surplus-scarce-security trilogy that reinforces structures of thought leading to a single planetary story regarding risks to people, the planet, and the economy. And such a story, far from generating empathy, offers further justifications for the existing approach to water management. Such an approach fosters unequal practices (of access, allocation, and pricing) that favor one cultural understanding of water over others.           

Schmidt questions the existing philosophy of water that had rejected older ideas as too metaphysical or too far down the evolutionary ladder of social development. However, the chosen philosophy was not without its own mythical elements. Did it not claim that the idea of liberal forms of life was uniquely equipped to manage water within vast array of social and economic demands? The end result of this philosophy is that water which was once abundant is now scarce.  If water continues to be managed the way it is, majority of our rivers will only be carrying treated waste water, if at all.  

The book offers refreshing new historical and philosophical insights to address water, which remains ever restless in this new geological era, and the choice to continue pursuing it as only a resource may offer limited resolution to the magnitude of the problem at hand.   

Water 
by Jeremy J. Schmidt
SAGE, New Delhi
Extent: 307, Price: Rs. 995

First published in AnthemEnviroExpertsReview and Current Science dated Sept 25, 2018. 

Ringing that bell of justice

Public Interest Litigation (PIL) has been allowed to become a giant machine to turn people who could be plaintiffs into mute victims.

So widespread is its appeal and demotic reach that its cinematic rendition too had to face it - a real PIL against a reel PIL – for representing legal profession in a poor light. Though the case was quashed, it did in a way justify the strength of contemporary jurisprudence in the country. Jolly LLB and its sequel Jolly LLB-2 appealed to viewers as these movies celebrate the power of PIL in challenging deeply elitist and exclusionary dimensions of legal procedures. To an average cinegoer, PIL is the reminder of the bell that Emperor Jahangir is believed to have hung outside his palace for aggrieved subjects to pull at any time to seek instant justice. But why the poor didn’t get justice in the first place has remained unanswered!

In response to the slow paced court procedures which exemplify ‘justice delayed is justice denied’ the PIL was introduced in the late 1970s as a tool to represent subaltern interests, aimed at erasing the class-based biases. It was hailed as the most responsive move by the judiciary, providing speedy justice by easing traditional judicial procedures. It did work as judges donned their activist avatar, and in the interest of the public proclaimed solutions, reprimanded officials and enforced orders. A celebratory clamor followed as general public found recluse in court’s role in filling ‘vacuum in governance’.

But what began in the late 1970s as a judicial revolution was reduced by mid 1990s to a tool that worked against the very interests it had promised to serve. Citing the ruthless ‘slum demolition’ and the controversial ‘sealing drive’ cases in the capital, Anuj Bhuwania unfolds how a promising judicial tool was appropriated by the court to jump jurisdictional limits in taking control of urban governance through PIL. It did improve matters but at the cost of larger public good. The sealing drive is a case in point wherein then Chief Justice Y K Sabharwal took personal interest in turning a long-running PIL about relocation of industries into a case about misuse of commercial properties, purported to serve the interests of his own family. Although the charges of corruption remain unproved against the now deceased judge, the ideological slant in favor of corporate capital affecting livelihoods of millions remains evident.

The cases referred to in Courting the People make it amply clear that the non-procedural and arbitrary nature of PIL has helped the court initiate a case in public interest on its own, appoint its own lawyer, investigate the issue, and issue orders for implementing its decision. What is more, in a majority of cases the victims were neither consulted nor allowed to enter the court room before the court pronounced on their fate. Class-based exclusions were materially inscribed. Taking cognizance of such pathetic instances, the author wonders how PIL has been allowed to become a giant machine to turn people who could be plaintiffs into mute victims.

However, it will be erroneous to conclude that the book views PIL entirely in poor light because it argues that with the right kind of judges, who do not take procedural liberties on offer; a right kind of judgement is still possible. Bhuwania’s emphasis throughout the book is not so much on the unjust outcomes of PIL cases, but rather on the profound injustice of the judicial process adopted in them. In this context there is little denying that the pathology of PIL has infected legal culture more generally in the post-liberal era, as armed with radical potential of PIL the appellate judges could pursue political causes they deemed fit.

It goes without saying that in the din of emerging PIL culture the important and challenging aspect of integrating the three-tiered judicial system into well-oiled functioning machinery that can provide timely and quality justice to the subaltern has largely been side-stepped. The lower judiciary with its inefficient and corrupt system continues to be perceived as purely pathological, whereas the heroic persona is reserved for higher courts that are viewed, thanks to PIL, as the panacea to endemic social and political ills. In the market-driven demand-supply scenario, the culture of PIL with its star judges and celebrity lawyers has acquired a conspicuous and higher political status in the country’s appellate judiciary. Its self-congratulatory nature with its inbuilt justifications will only perpetuate it to grow.

Courting the People raises more questions than what it sought to address in the first place. It is a somewhat disturbing read that points out at its (PIL) fundamentally protean nature which stems from its mimicry of ideas of popular justice. As long as it is believed that the poor can gain justice from benign paternalism of the presiding judge, the idea of Emperor Jahangir’s Zanjir-e-Adl will continue to resonate in the corridors of appellate courts. Bhuwania’s efforts will be well served if his research is made available in a language palatable to a wider readership.

Courting the People
by Anuj Bhuwania
Cambridge, New Delhi
Extent: 157, Price: Rs 495

First published in the Hindustan Times dated May 12, 2018.

The ran and the banned

Such is the power (lure) of advertising that it not only makes the egoist socialites dance to its tune but inspires the macho celebrities (stars) strip to their bare essentials.

Had he not been married to Mary Pears, daughter of soap company owner Francis Pears, Thomas Barratt would not have invented the catchy phrase ‘Good morning, have you used Pears' soap?’ as the first ever advertising campaign in the late 19th century. Pears gained the desired traction among consumers, impelling them to prefer it over other brands. Barratt did not live long to see the expanse of his pioneering work, but the impact of advertisements on our life choices has only grown. However, what goes into the making of a short but persuasive form of communication that can even influence a bald person to buy a comb is worth a curious look in. 

Clearly, there is much that goes into making of a short advert than what finally gets served on the prospective consumers. Else, how would women of all hues continue to believe that a teeny peck of cream would make them fair and lovely? And, why would men have unstinted faith in a diminutive capsule to restore vigor past their prime?  Converting products into habits is what the advertising industry excels in, announcing with aplomb the relevance of each product. Such is the impact that some of the taglines stay in popular memory long after the product disappears from the market. What an idea, Sirji is one amongst many, and so is Yeh dil maange more. 

Pulling quirky insights from her stint in the world of advertising, Ritu Singh reveals the truth behind somewhat amusing world of advertising that quite often blurs the divide between the sublime and the ridiculous. From evoking a feel-good feeling of owning a scooter through Buland Bharat Ki Buland Tasveer to a sexually suggestive expression Yeh toh bada toing hai by a village belle washing hubby’s undies, a wide canvas was laid bare for affirming consumers’ emotions on one hand to fiddling with perverted fantasies on the other. The outrage that followed was enough for the sexpressive ad to be banned. The ad continues to evoke interest in the virtual space. 

Isn’t advertising an evolving art, a creative undertaking on testing hypotheses even if some (sexually suggestive) ideas remain ahead of its times? Why is there no space for such adverts in the land of Kamasutra where some explicit (rather abusive) expressions are affectionately used to greet each other, and where not long ago the entire nation was singing ‘Bhaag bhaag DKBose’? Why the society has a line drawn between what is cultural and what is public? 

Adhering to such norms, the ad world remained cluttered with dull and drab commercials during much of the recent past, creating more noise than signal. Occasionally, there have been attempts to break free to shake up socially and culturally diverse landscape, seeking re-evaluation of consumers entrenched notions in the changing world of want and necessity. Some worked and many didn’t, as merging tradition with modernity and frugality with profligacy has not been easy. 

Written with wit and flair, Stark Raving Ad takes the reader on a giddy tour replete with unforgettable taglines, naughty storylines, brand scuffles, and industry scandals. There is a story behind each short commercial. Take the case of the only ad featuring actor Dev Anand in the early 80s which was taken off air because no one seemed to notice the fabric he was seemingly promoting, and the  most watched ‘one black coffee’ mobile ad of the mid-90’s which clicked more for the gaffe than the handset. Howsoever imaginative and creative the treatment might have been, these ads did not make businesses feel needy, and had their lifespan cut out.

The ultimate challenge argues Singh, is to create moments on screen that can guide viewers’ aspirations, stir their emotional quotient, solicit their pride, and trigger envy in others through their purchase. And the consumer market has everything on offer for the creative guys/gals at the ad agencies to burn their butts, as insiders call it, to generate few seconds of lasting impact. Be it detergents or undergarments, biscuits or condoms, paints or pizza, and jewelry or motorbikes, the challenge lies in pitching adverts for as diverse the viewers as the products. The ultimate test being that everybody agrees with the storyline and/or the tagline, and the product sells. 

Grouping hundreds of ads in a dozen odd curious chapters, like Thoo-Thoo, Main-Main and  Mummy Badnaam Hui, Stark Raving Ad is a run through the world of Indian advertising with its hits and misses, and the ran and the banned. That there are more hits than misses is evident from the fact that it has kept an eye on the social-psyche of everyday living, the quest for variety and the appetite for questioning, in creating a mosaic of short commercials. What amuses me is the fact that the advertising industry has not only made the egoist socialites dance to their tune but inspired the macho celebrities strip to their bare essentials, all for enticing the aam aadmi. 

Stark Raving Ad is an exercise in nostalgia, in the makeshift world where the aam aadmi enjoys the forbidden apple while gulping mango juice in the land of (k)aam-sutra. 

Stark Raving Ad
by Ritu Singh
Hachette, New Delhi
Extent: 276, Price: Rs 350.

First published in BLink of the Hindu BusinessLine on May 5, 2018.