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TS: Kirsch discusses two international networks focused on the mining industry. Looking at these networks, particularly their organizational forms and histories offers comparative perspective on networks that have formed around Formosa Plastics and related industry. The analysis also illuminates how networks fit within Kirsch' framework of the "politics of space" and "politics of time". 

The first organizatin is the US-based Global Mining Campaign, with membership from over 40 countries. Kirsch argues that due to its "top-down" approach, the network didn't last long (2014, 194). The initative was focusing on blocking new mining projects, and is therefore representative of the politics of time (ibid).

The second organization is the Mines and Communities network, which he describes as a horizontal network where participants can contribute information about affected communities. He notes that unlike the top-down approaches, this organizational form seems more in line with the desire of activists. A search for Formosa Plastics on the website turns up newspaper articles about the Formosa Steel disaster in Vietnam.

He further elaborates:

"The signature contribution of the Mines and Communities network has been its ability to track and analyze the strategies of the mining industry, information that is posted on its website (www.minesandcommunities.org). Other mining websites tend to focus on specific mining projects, companies, or countries; technologies such as mountaintop removal; or particular commodities, such as coal, diamonds, or gold. The Mines and Communities website provides a more comprehensive overview of the mining industry by drawing on regional materials submitted and reviewed by its members, who contribute important contextual information and analysis. Participation in the editorial process for the website has been a two-way street for network members, enhancing the content posted on the website while providing the editors with a valuable comparative perspective on the mining industry. Although the original objective of the website was to provide information that could be used by indigenous communities affected by mining projects, it largely failed to reach its target audience" (2014, 196-7).

Kirsch states that the website is mostly frequentd by academics and other researchers, rather than affected communities. Based on my reading, I'm not sure why that is, but it raises questions about the "target audience" of the Formosa Plastics Archive. 

TS: According to Kirsch, an important strategy of a politics of time is centred around distributing information to affected communities. In his words, this includes "accelaration of the learning curve of communities facing the prospect of a new mining project" (2014, 192). He provides terms to characterize different approaches, as well as their shortcomings:

"NGOs have employed a variety of means to reduce the disparity in access to information between mining companies and local communities. The most common strategy for achieving this goal is the vertical transfer of information from metropolitan NGOs to rural communities by sharing materials about comparable mining projects or the track record of the relevant mining company. NGOs also facilitate horizontal information sharing between communities facing similar challenges (Appadurai 2002); this may involve sponsoring visits by local leaders or community representatives to comparable mining sites or attendance at conferences where they can learn about the experiences of other communities affected by mining. [...] NGOs also exploit new opportunities provided by the Internet to share information with people from communities affected by mining, although these efforts are constrained by both the problems of translation and the persistence of the digital divide. Nevertheless, NGO reports are generally more accessible to the public than academic publications, the digital forms of which are ordinarily locked behind expensive paywalls. And the information gap is shrinking as a result of increased attention to mining conflicts by traditional news media, as well as by new social media, including electronic mailing lists, websites, and online video." (Kirsch 2014, 193).

TS: The text "compares two different kinds of political movement. The first example is the politics of space, which makes use of resourcesthat are geographically distributed. It strives to create oppositional power through the development of extensive transnational alliances. The second is the politics of time, which pursues alternative strategies focused on the prevention of industrial activities that are almost certain to cause harm—activities that become very difficult to halt once set in motion given the huge capital investments they entail and the economic resources they provide to the state and other parties. The politics of space was characteristic of much of the environmental activism that emerged in the 1990s, which often addressed problems after the fact. In contrast, the politics of time leads to more hopeful forms of intervention given its potential to prevent harm from occurring" (Kirsch 2014, 226).

Kirsch notes that the recautionary principle is an example of the politics of time as discussed in his ethnography (Kirsch 2014, 260).

I used the analytic question to do a quick survey of open or civic data infrastructure in St. Louis. The city's open data portal features a database on their strategic land use program (SLUP), initiated in 2005, and an overview of sustainability initiatives in relation to land use. 

I then looked further into current developments or articulations for civic data infrastructures based on this available data. A recent example is STL Vacancy, an initiative that is prototyping a map/database that displays information on vacant land in St. Louis. This news report (Walker 2018) provides figures on vacant lands in St. Louis, a background to the initiatives emergence and a first look at the prototype. According to the report, there are 20,187 vacant properties (half of them belonging to the city), which create a total of $17 million in yearly maintenance costs for the city. Further, the need to map and visualize these properties was picked up during the first "hackathon" in 2017 and carried forward by the OpenSTL group in a public-private partnership with other institutions. The article mentions that the map draws on a total of 12 data sources: “Seven data sets come from the city’s building division; two from the Land Reutilization Authority; and more from the assessor’s office on taxes and property values and the forestry department which maintains vacant land" (Walker 2018). The initiative's goal is to "provide tools to community stakeholders in order to work together more efficiently; to keep properties on the tax roll; reduce vacancy; and get properties back into productive use faster" (ibid). The article also links to an online guide that should "help local government officials, neighborhood associations, community-based nonprofits, residents, business owners, and other stakeholders better understand how to work together to use existing tools to address vacant property in the City of St. Louis."

This seems to be an interesting case for how civic/open infrastructure is currently imagined and developed. Interestingly, the discourse and arguments are driven by an economic incentive to make better use of the vacant lots, while questions of urban sustainability or our understand of anthropocenics seem to be less prominent.