Research is never the work of a single woman. Rather, it should be understood, as Donna Haraway suggests, as ‘sympoiesis’ – a “making-with”: all things become together. In this blog post, I will reflect on a sympoietic theme that emerged at the convergence of my reading of parts of the empirical material generated by members of ‘Organizing REKO’ and ideas presented in an article written by the Finnish environmental social scientist Galina Kallio.
In her article, Kallio, challenges the ways in which we often think of and use the word ‘hope’. Hope, she notes, (too) often speaks optimistic about the future, thereby preserving status quo of the present. Just think of the promises of technological solutions to capture and bind carbon, or the use of artificial intelligence for sustainability that increases the efficiency in farming, pesticide use, and wildlife control. Such techno-fix ideology (Morozov, 2013) rests on hope in that technology will eventually solve, among other things, the climate crisis, while in the meantime enabling the continuation, growth, and expansion of current unsustainable practices. However, as Kallio asks,
“What if hanging on to hope for a better future is a mirage that prevents people from starting to build and live a radically new life in the present” (p. 6)
While the abstract and ambiguous version of hope insulates unsustainable practices and supports business as usual, hope can also be a verb – something practiced. More specifically, Kallio proposes understanding hope as action. In this version, hope is not a naively optimistic vision of the future but an activation and mobilization of more sustainable alternatives. Hope, in this rendition, empowers, is acted upon, and is practiced in the here and now: in the everyday generative farming which Kallio studies, and, potentially, in the production and consumption activities constituting REKO.
I was captivated by the notion of ‘hope as action’, so much so that it became one of the lenses I wore while reading some of the empirical material constructed in our study of REKO.
DISCLAIMER: These very preliminary thoughts are based on a reading of about 20 percent of the in total 52 interviews conducted with producers, consumers, and administrators within the project. Our material also includes 23 observations at REKO pick-ups in Sweden, Finland, and Latvia.
Before reading parts of the empirical material, I admittedly expected producers to be practicing hope in transforming the largely unsustainable global food system through their farming, berry-picking etc. However, few producers expressed engagement in such hope-in-action. There are exceptions: some have bought farms to practice generative vegetable farming or engage in small-scale organic farming for sustainability reasons and to inspire others. Yet, many producers present different motives: inheriting a farm from parents; the berries grow wild and rich in the forests that surround the property; pursuing a simpler, self-chosen, and slower life; or simply making a living.
While producers shared divergent reasons for being where they are, many consumers attribute motivations to producers similar to my initial assumptions. Consumers own reasons for joining REKO largely align with findings from previous studies on local food systems: health, better food quality and taste, higher nutritional value, sustainability, and resilience. However, many also view their participation as a way to support small-scale farmers and their presumed efforts to make food production more environmentally and climate friendly.
A central question then, I think, becomes: To what extent do the motivations of small-scale producers matter to the question of REKO as a place for practicing hope? Kallio writes:
“Hope as action mobilizes both the past and the future and intertwines them into the present by opening up a pathway to noticing the traces (Tsing, 2012) into which hope(s) and hopelessness(es) materialize through the work and dwelling of farmers, who together with other beings shape, sustain, and steward intergenerational farming landscapes” (p. 8).
Instead of zooming in on the particular – such as producers’ expressed motivations – we could zoom out to the broader implications of the REKO local food system. Such a take would focus on the practices, actions, and outcomes constituting REKO. The question then becomes: Is REKO a practice of hope in alternative presents, of changing how things are? Ultimately, the question of REKO as a practice of hope invites us to think beyond individual motivations or isolated actions. It challenges us to consider the collective potential of systems like REKO to reimagine how we produce, consume, and relate to food. Perhaps the power or REKO lies not in whether every participant explicitly practices hope as action, but in the cumulative effect of their combined practices – a sympoiesis of small, everyday choices making alternatives present. In this way, REKO might offer us more than just fresh produce; it might offer a glimpse into what living differently, together, could look like.
by Emma Christensen
References
Haraway, D. (2016). Staying with the trouble. Making kin in the Chthulucene. Duke University Press.
Kallio, G, (2024). Hope beyond hope. Farming one’s way into a better today. Ethnologia Fennica, 20(2), 5-9.
Morozov, E. (2013). To save everything, click here. Technology, solutionism, and the urge to fix problems that don’t exist. Penguin Books Ltd.