David Jones

The idea of the “film essay,” from Alexandre Astruc to Harun Farocki, concerns arguments for and/or against cinema and its truth-telling apparatuses. For example, as discordant and often-dark elegy for themes present in everyday cultural criticism, yet themes often eclipsed by rationalist and neo-positivist biases, the subjective states of the “film essay” hold considerable promise toward new visual methodologies or procedures for psychogeographical inquiry in landscape-architectural discourse – through foregrounding novel forms of so-called vision plans toward the much-needed short circuit of persistent analytical models grounded in programmatic hubris. When applied to environmental design disciplines, the reverie-inducing “film essay” acts as a critique of the usual rules and biases of project design development and presentation methodologies, conjuring possible futures for sites that do not automatically default to utilitarian concerns and/or mere political expediency.

‘The Debauched Commons: A Dark Parable’ summarizes issues regarding intellectual property rights and immaterial culture through a nuanced reading of how First Nations Peoples worldwide have been forced by forms of neoliberal-capitalist exploitation of the knowledge commons to ring-fence and/or commodify their lived traditions, in many cases dating back 100,000 years and clearly predating any and all Western (First World) concepts of ownership. The intention of the structuralist-inspired reading of this enforced defensive position is to emphasize and clarify issues concerning prior art and moral rights, two of the most ambiguous and gamed elements of copyright and patent law. Drawing upon the international context of the _Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples_ (2007) and the _Convention for Safeguarding Intangible Heritage_ (2003), this essay will focus, in part, on the travails of Aboriginals in Australia as representative of First Peoples worldwide and their long-exploited and long-expropriated traditions, inclusive of land, but foremost _lived knowledge_, but also their often compromised position _vis-à-vis_ various Australian state and Commonwealth legislation concerning recognition of their copyright, moral rights, and intellectual property rights. In this complex dance between tradition, heritage, and law, the so-called public domain often also becomes a de facto warehouse for the eventual conversion of intangible rights to collectively held and stored cultural property, which is then leveraged and/or converted to cultural capital by both public institutions and private companies. The primary premise of the analytic to be applied is that commodification of knowledge is more or less co-equal to the digitization of culture and the regimes of expropriation and/or outright theft associated with platform cultures. Platform culture, in turn, implicates otherwise benign, or apparently benign institutions (for example, academia and the art world) claiming to advance understanding and resolution of the twin nemeses of post-contemporary cultural politics—diversity and justice. The subtle machinations of what has come to be called the art-academic industrial complex will thus be analyzed for implicit and explicit practices that are reducible to the appropriation of native rites and rights, and laws and lores, for self-serving reasons inclusive of radical-chic posturing and politically correct tokenism.

“Noverim me, noverim te.” – Saint Augustine, Confessions, 10.1.1. (397-400 AD). What would and will an urban commons look like that is slowly and incrementally being re-socialized? How would that affect urban planning “now” and in times of crisis? How do we prepare for the likelihood of rolling similar crises with an eye on returning the urban commons to citizens? There is the old adage that under capitalism, risk is always socialized and profit is always privatized. We are seeing it now, under the COVID-19 crisis. The huge bailouts launched by governments are symptomatic of the crisis in political economy, just as they were post-2008. “Too big to fail” has sponsored monsters that refuse to back off without threatening the collapse of the entire system. Francisco Goya’s “The sleep of Reason produces monsters …” comes to mind. Physical and immaterial culture, in our current Western civilisation, are intimately linked. Yet the focus for urban design is generally on the material or physical side, with the immaterial left to its own devices. Increasingly, urban design measures are merely ameliorative and aesthetic, with the larger share shaped by a political economy dictated by market ideology or “politicalology.” What transpires, nonetheless, is an immaterial commons that constitutes a public or private intellectual commons – often a mix of the two; but, in the case of domination by market ideology, the privatization of “general intellect” proceeds by abject appropriation. In such a technocratically driven model, subjective states become increasingly important. As Indian architect Balkrishna Vithaldas Doshi once said, “Smart cities are smart people.” How might these two otherwise contiguous and synchronous systems be brought back into a properly civic-minded rapport with or without crisis-driven change? Are there alternate models for the urban commons? What measures might be put in place in advance, or as provisional intercessions?