Analyze

At the height of the West African Ebola epidemic, West African governments and Mobile Network Operators (MNOs) were barraged with requests from international humanitarian and Western data analytics agencies to provide Call Detail Record data. This data could furnish the large-scale ambitions of data modelling to track and predict contagion. Despite its utility in tracking mobility and, as such, disease, CDR’s use raises many privacy concerns. In addition, embedded within a turn towards datafication, CDR technologies for surveillance embed specific ontologies of the data-focused society they emerge from. There is a false equivalence embedded in the relationship between humans and technology. The predominantly Western idea that one phone equals one person underlines the claim that CDR data accurately tracks distinct user movements, encoding a Western “phone self-subjectivity” (Erikson 2018). However, the refusal by some African actors to hand over sensitive mobile data to international agencies was met with forceful rhetoric of Africa’s moral obligation to comply—to forgo privacy rights in the name of ‘safety.’ The Ebola context reflects an emergent digitization of emergencies in the Global South, which is reshaping the way societies understand and manage emergencies, risk, data, and technology. The big data frenzy has seen a rising demand to test novel methods of epidemic/pandemic surveillance, prediction, and containment in some of the most vulnerable communities. These communities lack the regulatory and infrastructural capacity to mitigate harmful ramifications. With this emergence is a pivot towards 'humanitarian innovation,' where technological advancements and corporate industry collaboration are foregrounded as means to enhance aid delivery. In many ways, these narratives of innovation and scale replicate the language of Silicon Valley’s start-up culture. Surveillance of the poor and disempowered is carried out under the guise and rhetoric of care. In this scenario, market ideals and data technologies (re)construe social good as dependent on the “imposition of certain unfreedoms” as the cost of protection (Magalhaes and Couldry 2021). As big data technologies, they foreground a convergence of market logistics and global networks with existing and already problematic international humanitarian infrastructures (Madianou 2019). These convergences create new power arrangements that further perpetuate an unequal and complex dependency of developing countries on foreign organizations and corporations. Pushback against these data demands showcases competing notions of where risk truly lies. While resistance to data demands was at the state level, community responses to imposed epidemic regulations ranged from non-compliance to riots. These resistances demonstrated how the questions of ‘who and what is a threat?’ or ‘who and what is risky?’ and ‘to whom?’ experience shifting definitions in relation to these technologies as global, national, and community imaginaries are reinforced and reproduced as cultural, political, as well as biological units. 

Source

Akinwumi, Adjua. 2023. "Technological care vs Fugitive care: Exploring Power, Risk, and Resistance in AI and Big Data During the Ebola Epidemic." In 4S Paraconference X EiJ: Building a Global Record, curated by Misria Shaik Ali, Kim Fortun, Phillip Baum and Prerna Srigyan. Annual Meeting of the Society of Social Studies of Science.

(MNOs) were barraged with requests from international humanitarian and Western data analytics agencies to provide Call Detail Record data. This data could furnish the large-scale ambitions of data modelling to track and predict contagion. Despite its utility in tracking mobility and, as such, disease, CDR’s use raises many privacy concerns. In addition, embedded within a turn towards datafication, CDR technologies for surveillance embed specific ontologies of the data-focused society they emerge from. There is a false equivalence embedded in the relationship between humans and technology. The predominantly Western idea that one phone equals one person underlines the claim that CDR data accurately tracks distinct user movements, encoding a Western “phone self-subjectivity” (Erikson 2018). However, the refusal by some African actors to hand over sensitive mobile data to international agencies was met with forceful rhetoric of Africa’s moral obligation to comply—to forgo privacy rights in the name of ‘safety.’ The Ebola context reflects an emergent digitization of emergencies in the Global South, which is reshaping the way societies understand and manage emergencies, risk, data, and technology. The big data frenzy has seen a rising demand to test novel methods of epidemic/pandemic surveillance, prediction, and containment in some of the most vulnerable communities. These communities lack the regulatory and infrastructural capacity to mitigate harmful ramifications. With this emergence is a pivot towards 'humanitarian innovation,' where technological advancements and corporate industry collaboration are foregrounded as means to enhance aid delivery. In many ways, these narratives of innovation and scale replicate the language of Silicon Valley’s start-up culture. Surveillance of the poor and disempowered is carried out under the guise and rhetoric of care. In this scenario, market ideals and data technologies (re)construe social good as dependent on the “imposition of certain unfreedoms” as the cost of protection (Magalhaes and Couldry 2021). As big data technologies, they foreground a convergence of market logistics and global networks with existing and already problematic international humanitarian infrastructures (Madianou 2019). These convergences create new power arrangements that further perpetuate an unequal and complex dependency of developing countries on foreign organizations and corporations. Pushback against these data demands showcases competing notions of where risk truly lies. While resistance to data demands was at the state level, community responses to imposed epidemic regulations ranged from non-compliance to riots. These resistances demonstrated how the questions of ‘who and what is a threat?’ or ‘who and what is risky?’ and ‘to whom?’ experience shifting definitions in relation to these technologies as global, national, and community imaginaries are reinforced and reproduced as cultural, political, as well as biological units. 

Akinwumi, Adjua. 2023. "Technological care vs Fugitive care: Exploring Power, Risk, and Resistance in AI and Big Data During the Ebola Epidemic." In 4S Paraconference X EiJ: Building a Global Record, curated by Misria Shaik Ali, Kim Fortun, Phillip Baum and Prerna Srigyan. Annual Meeting of the Society of Social Studies of Science. Honolulu, Hawai'i, Nov 8-11.

Lee references work from two main sources: Jill Lindsey Harrison’s book, From the Inside Out: The Fight for Environmental Justice Within Government Agencies, and Ana Baptista’s Ph.D. dissertation, “Just Policies? A Multiple Case Study of State Environmental Justice Policies.” Harrison describes how EJ managers and staff undermine environmental issues resisting EJ integration. She argues this resistance is based on: “environmental protection is colorblind, bettering the environment overall means that the environment is improved for everyone, EPA is a science agency while EJ deals with social issues, and other “standard narratives” rooted generally in American normative societal values or in long-held premises that have shaped the environmental protection field for decades” (Lee, 2021). Baptista’s concept suggest EJ practice’s inactivity contributes to procedural injustice while also highlighting the importance of structural justice when dealing with environmental injustice as it is deeply rooted in racial discrimination and the perpetuating of racism through the skewed relationship between governmental entities and black communities. 

In addition to these references, Lee also highlights contributions from Rebert Bullard, who developed a public health model of prevention that focuses on community-outreach practices to address disproportionate impact. Ryan Holifield, who accentuated the difficulty for government agencies to define “disproportionate impacts” presenting another challenge in legally reinforcing the order. David Pellow, who highlighted the importance of critically looking at race and understanding how attributed meaning to concepts dealing with race change over time. 

In order to advance these referenced works, Lee argues that the best way to integrate earlier findings is by building the capacity of the EJ practitioner “to deploy the core theories that guide EJ practice.” In this instance, the ability to define and  contextualize the term “disproportionate impacts” is a crucial tool to ensure the Executive order becomes operational.       

Lee’s main argument is that disproportionate impacts are intertwined with the distribution of environmental and social impacts. He highlights structural and procedural issues with environmental agencies and the EPA, along with other issues of data injustice, where agencies were sometimes characterized as “black boxes,” closed off from population scrutiny and  from learning of the actual narratives in these communities. 

“Not only are we now able to construct inarguable empirical statements that are commensurate with the deep historical and systemic drivers of environmental racism and injustice, but mainstream leaders and the general public are finally listening. Indeed, new tools for operationalizing the consideration of disproportionate impacts are emerging, not the least of which is New Jersey’s recent landmark EJ legislation (S.232/A.B.2212). Hence, we can now discuss what some building blocks of a second generation of EJ practice may look like.”

Lee uses CalEPA’s Environmental Justice Advisory Committee definition and recognition of “cumulative effects,” or the public health effects of combined exposure of environmental pollutants and toxins with other stressors that impacts people of a lower socio-economic status in accordance with existing research. This led to the development of the CalEnviroScreen

The article focuses on creating definitions and clarifying concepts while analyzing the impact of a disproportionate distribution of resources in a way that clearly shows the link to systemic racism and the “inequitable distribution of environmental burdens and benefits” (Lee 2021). It develops a framework for integrating concepts of environmental injustice with environmental policy-making in an effort to overcome the inaction of environmental justice (EJ) practice to address the EJ Executive Order No. 12898 by President Clinton in 1994. A mandate that addressed “disproportionately high and adverse human health or environmental effects” of its operation population of lower socio-economic status. The issue being these agencies did not know how to define the term “disproportionate effect” leading to the immense challenge of holding agencies to an environmental justice standard. 

The article also discusses future EJ practice that addresses systemic racism using empirical data in the context of programmatic decision-making to visualize public health impacts which recognizes that as the demand of governmental regulation of “disproportionate impacts” increases the need for greater resources, scale of analysis, and level of quantification increases.

Lee contextualizes his argument in the era of March 2021 when discussing how current conditions are optimal for making progress in reference to the Black Lives Matter movement, which has uplifted black voices and brought visibility to black discrimination and the environmenatal, social, economic, health outcome, and cultural effects of systemic racism.

Lee uses “second-generation EJ mapping tools that have cumulative impacts as their core organizing principle,” this tool goes beyond demographic indicators, it spatially array the factors EJ researchers identified and contributors to the cumulative impacts affecting communities of colors. It was created by EJ researchers Manuel Pastor, Rachel Morello-Frosch, and James Sadd officially developing an EJ Screening Method (EJSM) - which laid the foundation for CalEnviroScreen. These tools are used to study cumulative effects, a combination of environmental pollutants and socio-economic factors that leave communities of people-of-color vulnerable to adverse health outcomes. Other modern technological and statistical tools include modern geographic information system (GIS) technology.

“Virtually all EJ practice has been con- fined to the procedural justice element, with EJ defined as solely consisting of more community involvement. This is inevitable if there is no understanding of the substantive core of such concerns speaking to the need for a systematic and rigorous way to operationalize the concept of dispro- portionate impacts.” (10209)
“The following is a first cut at a working definition of “disproportionate impacts”32: Disproportionate environmental and/or public health impacts are combinations of demonstrably greater pollu- tion burden and population vulnerability associated with socially and/or economically disadvantaged communities and populations. Disproportionate impacts may often reflect consistent patterns in the distribution of pollution and vulnerability, and are often a function of historical trends and policy decisions.” (10212)

“To be sure, anecdotal descriptions represent very compelling information, as countless community mem- bers testify at public hearings every day to express their concerns about their communities’ well-being. How- ever, we all know from bitter experience how they are often ignored, criticized, or marginalized. Having peer- reviewed, government-sanctioned, and quantitative data changed the terms of the conversation and went a long way toward ensuring that the data are taken seriously. It provided a basis by which we can define and discuss the concept of disproportionate impacts in analytically rigor- ous terms.” (10213)

The primary argument of the text is that an understanding of disproportionate impacts is needed for systemic environmental justice (EJ) changes to take place (particularly, in government programs). The author notes that the EPA has, along with other government agencies, been unable to move past a “procedural justice” version of EJ, in which it is defined only as consisting of further community involvement (10209). EPA’s definition of EJ, which includes tenets of both fair treatment meaningful involvement, is not fully possible without, as the author notes, “an analytical framework rooted in an understanding of disproportionate impacts” (10218): this includes not only the procedural justice listed above, but also the distributive corrective, social, recognitional, and structural justice cited in EJ literature. The author puts this in the context of the national reckoning with systemic racism in summer 2020 (which coincided with the COVID-19 pandemic), citing these concurrent events as catalysts for major improvements to programs that affect environmental and human health (10218).

This article got me thinking about the difficulty in teaching concepts and examples of cumulative impacts, disproportionate burdens, and different forms of injustices, a challenge that I have encountered in co-teaching the Environmental Injustice course at UCI, which is built around these concepts. Early on in the course, students are often shocked at how government and corporate institutions are implicated in producing environmental injustice. The organized abandonment (RW Gilmore’s concept) of communities is a source of further government mistrust, inaction, and paralysis. We then ask students to imagine next-generation environmental governance with the help of reports and studies conducted by community-based organizations, and mapping/visualization tools mentioned in Lee’s article. They come up with nuanced case studies of environmental justice in California communities using a toolkit of concepts and rapid research design. I am interested in learning more about this shift in analytical and learning capacity of both educators and learners that occurs during this course. It connects to my broader concern of characterizing and mobilizing educators as environmental justice practitioners. 

Cudahy elementary school’s struggle for environmental justice foregrounds how sites of industrialization connect to organization of schools and other public institutions. I am curious about the work of organizations involved in the struggle–Cudahy Alliance for Justice, East Yard Communities for Environmental Justice (EYCEJ). I am also curious about the tactics and strategies used by these individuals and organizations to attain recognitional justice (being heard and listened to): how did they get DTSC and the school district to get them to listen? Further, the latter half of the story focuses on the proposed construction of a charter school nearby the elementary school: How do environmental governance and education restructuring shape each other?

The podcast episode tells the story of the Park View Elementary School in Cudahy, LA County. Located on a former toxic dump, parents and educators have been involved in decades’ long fight to remediate and clean up the school land. That fight has not been easy. They have encountered an apathetic school district and a slowly-moving Dept. of Toxic Substances Control.  The coalition of parents, educators, and activists gained traction by collaborating with Spanish language media productions. The school closed down for a cleanup and reopened in 2001, but students and educators still reported feeling sick. They later found out that the cleanup had been planned to be short-term and a longer remediation plan was underway. Many parents shifted schools. The story continued with the proposal to build a charter school just a few miles away from the elementary school and from a former Exide battery recycling plant. The podcast offers a narrative-style discussion of cumulative impacts, mapping tools that make it possible to visualize different datasets to display disproportionate burdens, and structural and recognitional injustices that the parents and educators faced.