Choosing to dance

I’m at the point in the research where I’m actually drafting the questions to ask people, and it’s exciting yet it also feels a little sad. It’s a reminder that actually doing things you want to do and care about risks messing things up and dealing with messy reality but it is good to push through that for the same reasons. It has felt like a dance between ideas and reality, the literature and exploring peoples’ lived experience as well as between myself as a researcher and the people I’m asking questions of.

It feels a bit sad because to choose is to pick some things and to leave others behind. Areas that I’m really interested in, that I think would be useful, where it seems like there’s a gap – they are getting cut. Sometimes it’s because they feel too far removed from the subject, that it doesn’t feel like it would help to provide responses that add up to a cohesive set of information. This also means that if I’m asking questions I don’t think I can clearly use the answers from, I’m not being respectful of people’s time by getting them to fill in survey responses I can live without. Some questions have similarly had to be culled because I think, even though they are closely related to the area, I’ve got too many questions overall to realistically expect people to complete a survey that long. Especially because, for the kind of number of people I need to complete the surveys, I’m relying on more than just my partner and a couple of friends completing it.

In that narrowing down, from the general broad-brush ideas to the very specific questions it means a lovely idea – which can be all of the myriad of good things I can imagine – becomes a distinct thing. That narrowing down means I have to let go of all kinds of possibilities, some of which I can envisage now and some of which might only become apparent later on down the line.

One of the things I love and find very bracing about Oliver Burkeman is his repeatedly coming back to the idea of the finitude of human life and how we’re always choosing what to put our time and energy into, even if it doesn’t feel like we’re choosing. That we can’t do all of the things, even as we might want to. And that even if we think we’re getting around this by just not deciding, that’s still kind of a decision, just not a proactive one. So it’s better to try and put as much of your time as possible into things that you actively care about rather than just putting things off or getting your faff on.

So it is that, as can often be the case, aspects which makes it feel sad are also what makes it feel exciting. Doing this work gives a strong sense that the work is moving into a different phase and becoming more real. Trying to translate the general concepts I want to explore and picking the words, weighing and testing them – is this too leading? How would I use the responses to that? Trying to come up with answers for survey responses that respect the plurality of views and contexts that people can have about their experiences of home and how they make decisions about things. Imagining the discussions that I would have with people, the kinds of responses that they might give, the worlds and experiences – many of them beautiful but, given home can for too many be a space of violence and insecurity, also experiences that can be difficult and upsetting for them to reflect upon. Thinking about the kinds of follow-up questions and how to frame things to try and give people the space to talk about things without putting words in to their mouth.

In thinking of the structure of the interview, that too feels like a dance – something created between myself and the person being interviewed. Thinking through the logistics and trying to imagine how it might feel to move from one area or question to another. Are there too many questions – and the other person will feel like they are getting rushed and crushed around? That I am stepping on their toes, rushing to talk over them or hurrying them along to try and get all of the questions covered. Is that going to create a stressful situation for both of us – as though we’ve got the dancing equivalent of sweaty hands or stepping on each others toes? Watching the clock and calculating the number of questions still go to rather than being fully engaged in what the person is saying. Considering what kind of time people need to give considered responses, while still being able to get through enough questions that I get a sense of the lay of the land for them. Helping them move through the discussion and also allowing myself to be changed by what they have to say. Reflections that someone might offer up resonate differently when thinking about them in the context of what others share.

The dance still isn’t done, the questions need to be reviewed and updated. Then I want to pilot them to see how they translate in practice. It could be I put my left leg out and then have to pull it right back in again, or it turns out I’ve got two left feet or some similarly mangled metaphor. Nonetheless, that feeling of exploring and continuing to turn ideas into action is the kind of dance I want to be doing all of my days…

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Everyone thinks everything is worse than it is – a sense that things are getting ever more extreme and polarised. Social media throws our sense of, and crucially MPs, sense of, what people think about issues off. Social media focuses on the extremes, especially now that X has become a site which actively provides a platform for extremist right-wing views. As such, it is reassuring to read examples which show views which are both less extreme and more progressive than it can too often seem.

The Climate Barometer report ‘Signal in the Noise 2025/26‘ showed that the difference between what MPs thought the public believed and what they actually thought is significant. MP’s continue to underestimate how much support there is for renewables amongst the public, including in their own constituencies. Even with the news in the state that it’s in, people still overwhelmingly think climate change is a crucial issue and one that needs to be addressed. They also think it shouldn’t be forgotten in amongst all of the other things going on at the moment.

The disconnect between the perception and reality of public opinion is really important because MP’s will be thinking about how their constituents will react to actions they take. If the image MP’s have in their head is wrong, this can throw them off doing what they might think is the right thing to do. It might persuade them to stay quiet and not push on something, rather than feel like they can put their head above the parapet, let alone that they might be supported by their constituents.

This disconnect can be taken to extremes by some politicians who seem to be very online, and react accordingly. Yet the report is more evidence of the fact that lots of social media increasingly serves to platform the more extreme views, creating a sense that those views are more representative than they are. Climate Barometer looked at discussion about net zero on X and found ‘conversation is dominated by right-leaning skeptics, who make up 86% of all users discussing the term’. This active network of voices against net zero, and other social issues, contrasts with more disparate, less active and co-ordinated voices that are in favour of trying to address environmental issues such as net zero.

This matters even more because of pluralistic ignorance – a phenomenon where people privately disagree with a norm or view but assume others don’t, so they don’t say anything. This helps perpetuate the norm because no-one speaks out, so there’s social conformity to the norm which further reinforces it. If people are given the impression extreme views are the norm, that people are less pro-environmental than they are say, then it has real-world impacts. This can make us feel more weird and isolated from those around us. It also means we’re less likely to raise the subject and put across our views, thereby discovering we’ve got more in common than we had realised. We are also less likely to vote for parties that support those policies because we assume others won’t either so our vote would be ‘wasted’ or take action in some other way.

Creating spaces to have conversations about issues can be a way to try and surface views and get a sense of where people are in practice. It’s why I make a point of talking about how I travel by train, occasionally boat and even more occasionally, by a train on a boat, rather than flying when I go overseas now. For a long time before I started travelling that way I felt bad about flying but I was surrounded by people who were continuing to fly – including those who also worked on environmental issues. The social norm of flying, perhaps with a helping of feeling bad and a shrug of ‘oh well, nothing to be done’ was just so common that it allowed me to convince myself it was ok to fly. If someone had been talking about how fun it is to travel without flying and had helped me to think about travel differently, which is a key part of getting into the zone of it, I would probably have switched to train travel sooner.

As climate and environmental issues become more noticeable, there’s a lot more to discuss about how impacts are arising and what can be done. Even if you don’t use every opportunity that arises, using just a fraction of them to raise in conversation with others would still lead to a lot more discussion on the subject. The chances are they might have more in common with you than you imagine, and if they don’t, at least you know for sure.

If only ethics approvals came as standard

I’m getting ready to start the part of the research where I can talk to and question actual people – really very exciting indeed. As part of this process I have to put together the documentation setting out my approach to identifying and managing the ethics implications of the research. Particularly given what’s happening more widely in the world, I can’t help but think this is an approach which should be much more widely adopted.

Getting ethics approval seems to be equivalent in part to a risk assessment in a programme or project management context. Looking at what are the risks I think could arise when delivering the project and setting out how I propose to mitigate, manage or remove them. Putting together the risks means that you have to think through how the activity is going to unfold in more detail. Drawing upon past experience and guidance from other experts, a first pass is developed.

More broadly though, the fact it’s called an ‘ethics approval’ rather than a risk management one feels meaningful. The word ethics carries with it a weight and dignity, a sense of morality which is beautiful indeed. I’m sure there could be contexts in which the word gets used, or abused, in a way that makes it feel hollowed out. So far it hasn’t felt like that.

The ethics process beyond the risk management then involves trying to actively think about ways in which the research might be conducted in ways that are respectful of those who are involved in it. My research around the social and cultural aspects of home unsurprisingly doesn’t require the use of physical human materials but the form I have to fill in allows for that possibility. For those who are conducting research using those materials, it is right that they have to properly account for the ethical approaches to doing so that go beyond a narrow risk management approach.

In relation to my own research, there have been discussions about how the information I give to prospective participants is presented so it can be accessible and easy to understand for different audiences. We’ve also talked about recognising and valuing the time people are giving up to support the research and how I can make sure people feel like it’s being conducted in a safe way.

The draft ethics proposal is then reviewed by my supervisors and updated following their feedback. This gives an opportunity to learn from their experiences, get more insights into practicalities and best practice. The proposal is then submitted and considered, feedback given and amendments made as needed before it’s signed off by the Ethics Committee.

That sense of care, consideration and support feels very fortunate indeed. Everyone involved is trying to make the proposal better, trying to ensure I can do a good and safe piece of work and that participants are treated respectfully. This is my first ethics approval rodeo so perhaps I might feel less enamoured of it if I go through it more times.

Nonetheless, the contrast with how so many decisions are made in work, politics and life more generally has felt noticeable. The centring of ethics shouldn’t feel rare but it does. Of course in lots of situations it is there but more implied, or wrapped up in different language. As I suggested above, there are analogies with the risk assessment process but the tenor of the discussions in relation to the ethics proposal have felt different to the risk assessment ones I’ve been party to. The explicit nature of the reference matters though, it sets a frame for the discussions and an expectation about what the process is trying to do.

The collective input on the ethics proposal looks very different to much of what’s currently unfolding in the news. The cruelty and violence being unleashed with no respect and no plan, so many lives at the whim of one unhealthy, unethical man is brutal to watch. As Ian Dunt articulated, the normalising and sane-washing isn’t being checked by other forces, instead it is serving to feed the chaos further.

Of course history, and the present, are full of examples of situations where lots of people are involved in decision making and bad things still happen, so I don’t want to pretend it’s as simple as more oversight leading to a better decision. Those issues instead provide compelling arguments to try and have better, more meaningful and ethical approaches, giving space for the better angels of our nature to prevail.

Lists of lists

Recently the reading I’ve been doing is about the meaning of home or, really, the meanings of home. Cumulatively it can feel a bit like the scene in ‘Being John Malkovich’ where John is in a restaurant surrounded by people who are all variations of him, all talking but the only word they say is Malkovich. The word ‘home’ starts to blur as it gets repeated over and over and over and. It feels like the words fold into each other, until the meaning starts to go or it all becomes quite Malkovich, Malkovich. That could just be because I’m marinating myself in the subject but it’s also made me reflect on what turns those lists and frameworks into things that are useful and used.

Reading Jeanne Moore’s (2000) piece ‘Placing home in context’, I think she’s great at setting out a variety of ways in which the meaning of home has shifted over time, and how it can vary across countries. How different disciplines have engaged with the idea of home and how meanings of and feelings about home have been represented. It’s a bit of a speedy romp through the subject so it’s more about breadth than depth.

She does draw together lots of lists and frameworks that have been developed to try and capture the meaning of home. Seeing so many of them together in one short article makes her reflection that lists ‘imply all meanings are equally experienced, and do not encourage a focus on the relationships between items’ more apt. A sense there are so many different ways of describing what comes through as quite a consistent set of messages. Lots of overlap and commonality between them, with Putnam & Newton (1990) finding that privacy; security; family; intimacy; comfort, and control consistently appear in research about the meaning of home. Other lists have the same words or similar meanings, which perhaps isn’t so surprising, at least for those lists and frameworks that are talking about a suggested ideal of home.

I went to the Museum of Home for their event ‘More Than a Place: Centre for Studies of Home Annual Lecture 2026’ which was a talk and Q&A with Katie McCrory exploring what she describes as the eight universal emotions that come together to create ‘a feeling of home’. This work is based upon the Life at Home report by IKEA, and in the book she identifies ‘comfort, control, security, accomplishment, belonging, nurture, enjoyment and aspiration’ as the eight emotions. Plenty of venn diagram overlap there with other lists and frameworks too.

Within an academic context I can see that lists and frameworks provide scaffolding for thought and a way to organise and reflect findings. A drawing together of what’s been learned and found, a chance to reflect on how those findings relate to the wider literature – findings suggested x which differs from the previous literature in y scenarios. Trying to represent and honour what’s been found in a way that some other literature might not quite feel it does, even that which can appear to be similar. So if people talk about security rather than privacy, it would make sense that security is the word that’s used, even though the sentiments might be analogous to another piece of research where people talked in the language of privacy. The weight of different words can vary from person to person and so when analysing the research, in the absence of anything within the wording which explicitly suggests one or other of those choices, different researchers might lean towards one rather than the other. Over time, the development of the frameworks and lists helps build up an understanding of an area and that can develop into recommendations and more directional proposals.

From a policy and practitioner perspective, I’m conscious that lots of reading I’ve done which suggests a framework has been developed, has seemed hard to translate into practice. Thinking about frameworks I’ve used in a policy or delivery context, they would be ones that have some actions or processes attached to them. There would have been underpinning research which led to the development of the list of criteria. No doubt there could be the same questions about why some options or wording were selected rather than others but when it’s accompanied by input which allows the framework to be used, rightly or wrongly, that can feel less of a pressing concern. Or at least, if the framework itself feels useful, if it seems totally bonkers then that’s obviously something else altogether.

Having a sense of who I want the work to help and what they might need, then helps shift some of that Malkovich, Malkovich energy. Given I’m intending to develop a framework as part of the outputs of my research it’s useful to have in mind more of a sense of where I want to be aiming towards. It helps explain why lots of the ones I’ve seen haven’t felt very satisfactory, that I find myself asking ‘and then what?’ about them. Being able to take a step back from the lists and lists, and indeed the lists of lists, to see the aspects that are common across those and why and where there might be gaps. Holding in mind that it is about being able to translate those lists and frameworks into action and activity that’s useful, rather than feeling like what I’m trying to do is come up with one list to rule them all. How to do that is another question, for another day, but having a sharper idea of what I’m away towards is very clarifying.

It’s like Piccadilly Circus in there

Policy makers can be reluctant to put in place policies that are seen to impinge upon the privacy of people in their own homes, yet commercial entities are less worried about this. From adverts in kitchens on fridges to people having massive logos on their clothing, accessories and in their homes, it’s another way of letting the outside in, making homes more public spaces.

Instinctively the idea of adverts on fridges feels quite shocking and a departure but reading Saunders & Williams 1988 piece ‘The constitution of home’ was a reminder that it’s perhaps more of a variation on a theme. They were talking then about advertising coming into the home through the TV and radio, and how this connected the home and outside world. They had slightly mixed views about the extent to which the home is or isn’t a private space but it was helpful to be able to see these adverts in a longer-term context.

TV and radio advertising has helped pave the way for the adverts on fridges, but with TV and radio, the ads are quite one-way. The people and organisations placing the ads would be able to get viewer or listener numbers and they might be able track if there was an uplift in activity as a result. They would have much less information available than is there now through tracking on phones and internet devices. This creates much more of a feedback loop between the adverts, organisations and audience. It’s also providing much more data which can be tracked and logged and used, with the attendant concerns about the possibility of personal or big data being used in ways we would find unethical.

Some of the sense of difference might just be the shock of the new, happening in a situation where there are growing concerns about the impact of data and devices. A sense that there’s increased surveillance but it’s not clear that we are safer or benefiting from it in other ways. That devices are making things seemingly more convenient – so smart fridges can tell us something is getting close to its best before date, but at a cost we hadn’t considered, let alone really reckoned with. The hollowing out of high streets, a loss of big and small businesses that can’t compete with massive online, offshore companies, more job insecurity and lower pay for more people. The social impacts of becoming more removed from others – those that we disagree with and now feel more removed from so it’s easier to be angry with and about them. Removed too from those we care about or might care about. Of course, no one smart fridge or other device does that but the cumulative impact of convenient things is something people are concerned about, for instance in the increasing hollowing out of high streets or declining concentration spans.

There is something different about the extent to which it’s a choice to engage. With TV and the radio you can choose to switch them on or not. If the adverts come on you can switch off or leave the room, and it’s you engaging when you want to but otherwise they aren’t around. With the adverts on the fridge, the fridges weren’t sold with that function to start with, so it isn’t as though people made the choice and were able to consider the trade-offs. People chose an expensive fridge and then subsequently that functionality was introduced, which feels very different indeed. There was eventually some functionality introduced that allows the adverts to be switched off but it isn’t clear they can be entirely removed.

In many respects then, smart devices with advertising are part of the longer history of the outside coming inside, or there being a much more permeable link between the home and the wider world. What remains then, is a sense of how the lack of choice looms larger in that context, but it also shows how homes, and expectations about homes, can push back on shifts. The company that introduced them thought they would be able to get away with it, yet people felt able to complain and have their views heard in a way that might be harder to achieve in a more communal space.

Why try harder?

I was yesterday day’s old when I discovered there’s no qualification to become a Retrofit Evaluator. Niche insight but it opened up a bit of a Pandora’s Box because under the British standard for retrofit – PAS 2035 – any evaluation of a retrofit should be completed by a suitably qualified Retrofit Evaluator. If there’s no qualification that can be done to get qualified, I think we can agree it’s hard to see how that is possible. In practice, what this means is the Retrofit Co-ordinator, another role under PAS 2035, and one that does have a qualification available does the evaluation.

In some respects perhaps not so surprising – monitoring and evaluation is an area most would agree is important in any context, yet it’s the area that is more likely to fall away than most. Whether because it’s for a project that is over-stretched, under resourced or behind schedule, evaluation is rarely seen as a core focus. Or the next project is getting scoped up and approved before there’s time to complete a proper evaluation of previous projects that might feed in to the development of the next project. So the fact there isn’t a qualification for this role is less of a concern than it might be for the actual installer roles.

Yet this role without a route to being meaningfully undertaken feels like such a symptom or metaphor for longstanding issues within the retrofit sector. The ongoing performance gap issue is one that has been long recognised but, as the recent 2025 National Audit Report (NAO) on energy efficiency installations showed, hasn’t been fully dealt with. Poor quality works, homes left worse off than they were before the works were undertaken because of mould and damp, affecting the health of the occupants and the fabric of the building itself. The NAO report itself found that 98% of homes that had external wall insulation installed under the Energy Company Obligation and Great British Insulation Scheme have got significant issues requiring remediation.

These issues arise in large amount because of a lack of attention, or ability, to deliver good quality works and ensure the details are right. Good processes, with monitoring and evaluation built in, can really help address or prevent issues. They can draw attention to areas where the work isn’t quite right and allow them to be improved or redone whilst the works are ongoing. Post-completion, they can identify issues with the works before they become much more serious. The intention is also that the Retrofit Evaluator can share lessons learned and areas for improvement with the installer to help them upskill people for subsequent projects.

More widely, in a context where approaches, products and technology are being developed, monitoring and evaluating their performance is crucial. Understanding how they work in practice, if they are easy to work with or need some workarounds to try and integrate them. Finding out how occupants respond, if they are easy for them to use or not. As more heat pumps have been installed in a great variety of homes, including ones that aren’t so well insulated, it’s become clear performance is better in a wider range of use cases than had previously been considered. That makes a massive difference in terms of the level of insulation needed for a home, with knock-on implications in terms of disruption and cost for the home-owner, and resourcing requirements for the supply chain. Without the monitoring and evaluation it’s harder to be confident in a particular approach and the status quo assumptions and actions are more likely to be considered.

What then is the workaround for the lack of a Retrofit Evaluator? As things stand, the Retrofit Co-ordinator now has to fulfil this role. They get to mark their own homework. If the basic level of feedback identifies any issues, they then have to escalate the evaluation to a more in-depth level. This would be undertaken by another Retrofit Co-ordinator. However, this requires them to do that escalation process. The worry is that in practice there might not be incentives to do so, or the quality assurance and monitoring of their work to pick up the cases when they don’t.

If there wasn’t a consistent drum-beat of stories and reports raising concerns about the quality of retrofit work undertaken, it might feel like that was an unfair assumption. Against that background, it feels like another reflection of a sector that recognises the need to change and improve – hence the development of the role in theory Yet it remains a sector that continues to struggle to address fundamental aspects around quality and reliability of the work it’s doing. Undermining trust, the health and well-being of people and their homes, and the ability of their work to get close to delivering the environmental and financial benefits people are paying for.

The ties that bind

One of the things I’m interested in exploring is how to connect in to what people already think about their homes in ways which connect to the wider world. To try and show and persuade people that this is about tapping into ways of seeing the home and the connection people have to their home and beyond to the world, I don’t anticipate it being a kind of Buzzfeed ‘This one trick will convince you’ kind of approach. That feels too risky, too easily pulled apart and then you’re back to where you were before. Crucially though, I also don’t think that’s true. There are a myriad connections and, they are likely to manifest differently for people, which makes sense given the plethora of experiences of home that people can have.

Doing this feels helpful because there can be a reticence to try and engage with how people use their homes because they are seen to be private spaces. Getting involved in that kind of space then feels like it is transgressing and people feel uncomfortable. An English(wo)man’s home is their castle and all that. By identifying ways people already make those connections

Lots of work has questioned and problematised that view of the binary splits that the public/private one is part of. This binary is often accompanied by others – with the home, classified as a private space, and one that is associated with the feminine. By contrast, the public sphere is then classified as masculine. Nonetheless, this idea that the home is a private endures for many, and in a policy context, makes people more reluctant to intervene. Despite the fact there are lots of ways in which regulation reaches into the home. From infrastructure to health and safety standards for materials and products.

In that context I enjoyed finding out about Halle’s work (1993) looking at the artwork that people choose to have in their homes. They did some statistical analysis of the themes and, where they were reproductions, the artists, using this to investigate landscape paintings as markers of status and class differences. Landscapes, family photographs, abstract and ‘primitive’ art and religious iconography were the main things he found. Across classes he found a commonality in terms of landscape paintings being there, but those of foreign or historical scenes were more often found in upper-middle class homes.

Rose (eg 2003 & 2004) writes about photo’s and she also notes how their inclusion in the home connects the occupants to the outside world. They find their inclusion is an important way a building is made a home, but it is also another way we use images to stretch our integration with the outside world.

And it’s one of those things that, when I read it, seemed so obvious. Cieraad talks about how the home can become so familiar that it’s a great place for anthropologists to study because there is so much that is obscured in plain sight. Reading about the different ways we choose things to decorate our homes, reminding us of the world outside and our place in it. It perhaps isn’t enough on its own to show and convince, to allow people to feel more comfortable about accepting that divide isn’t so real. For many people though, it should feel tangible and resonate with them as they look around their homes. Most people will be able to see things they choose to display because they connect them to friends, family and their world. A story and way of thinking about things that resonates, and cumulatively can help engage people.

Learning to read

Reading can be, if you’re lucky, an intuitive thing to do once you know how, offering an enjoyable private pleasure that opens you up to the world. Learning how to read when you already feel like you know how to read can, by contrast, feel like quite hard work.

With the PhD I’m getting to do lots of reading but it feels like I’m having to learn, or re-learn, how to read. I’ve long been an avid reader, as a child I would devour books. I’d go to the library on a Saturday morning and take out the maximum complement of eight books. They would usually all be read by the end of the weekend, often the end of Saturday. One year in school we had to write a book report for every book we read that year – I read over 100. As an adult, reading books was still a big part of what I enjoyed doing, even as I wasn’t reading many books in a year for quite a long time. Years ago I decided to set myself a challenge to read 52 books in a year – at that stage I was reading less than 20 a year. It took a few years to reach the target but having the target did encourage me to try harder and explore different ways to make time to read. The more I read the more I found it easier to find time to read as it once again became more normal and part of day to day life.

It’s a very intimate thing to spend time with a book. For both fiction and non-fiction it’s about allowing the author and their world and characters into your head and you into theirs. A way to become more connected to the world, to understand other people and yourself, exploring connections and perspectives. ‘If on a winter’s night a traveller’ by Italo Calvino takes the idea of reading and explores how it can connect us to the world. In lots of ways reading can be a solitary experience and he explores the enjoyment to be had in the rituals and anticipation of the pleasure to be found in a book, as well as the unexpected journeys books can take us on.

In work world, I was used to reading lots, or probably more accurately, scan reading lots on speedy journeys through lots of material. My undergraduate degree was in Law, so I was accustomed to being able to scan through large amounts of often complicated content to find the salient parts. In jobs I was used to doing the same, often whilst also being in, or Chairing a meeting, so my attention was very divided. Not a leisurely journey but just trying to navigate quickly through the environment and understand where there might be opportunities or lurking tricky situations.

I’ve always felt comfortable in my ability to read things quickly and extract some key points, albeit have long been aware of, and not liked, the way in which it feels like I can be a bit of an etch-a-sketch reader. That I can read something, enjoy it or be interested, but then struggle to retain much of it after I’ve finished. Being part of book clubs has been great for that. Having an opportunity to revisit the book and explore it, get different perspectives and have to try and justify my own views and emotions about a book helps to retain a bit more of that information. Getting to return to the information and use it to explain why I do or don’t think something is well explained or written, making sense of and analysing it rather than just repeating it.

That worry that I can be an etch-a-sketch reader feels like something that doesn’t sit with doing a PhD. If the point of doing a PhD is about trying to become an expert, taking the opportunity to go deep into the literature, scan reading seems out of kilter with that. That in skim reading I am just being too superficial and lazy. Then again, in trying to closely read and make notes on each article, it can be hard to work out if I’ve read ‘enough’. When I have looked up from whatever it is I’m reading to check in on my project plan and see how actual progress looks compared to the plan, it looks like it will take me many decades to even scrape the surface of the literature. There is plenty of guidance out there which suggests a close read isn’t necessary or optimal and sometimes it can be more efficient to re-read something later because it turns out to be key, rather than assuming everything is key and reading it in detail.

At the same time as having to re-learn how to read, I’m also recovering from concussion, so my brain is having to learn and re-learn lots of things. After concussion the brain is having to rewire itself to do things, going around the parts of the brain that are a bit bruised, having to learn new ways to do things it’s been used to do more effortlessly. It’s tiring and takes a lot more energy to do something more slowly and maybe not as well, or at least feeling like it’s not as good because the discomfort levels are higher. The concussion has meant I’ve not been writing as much, or doing as much of lots of other things, as I would usually do.

It’s felt a lot like that in trying to learn to read differently too. Something that I’m used to do quickly and effortlessly, more or less, has been feeling slow. I’ve been putting off reading because of the classic worry that I won’t ‘do it right’, which then means that I’m not giving myself as many chances to practice and learn – to re-train my brain.

In a world where editing out friction is a big part of the sales-pitch of websites and apps, technology and processes, actively seeking out friction and trying to do difficult things can feel disproportionately harder than it actually is. I’m also aware of, and have found useful, lots of online resources for people studying a PhD to learn tools and tricks. So I’m constantly bashing up against the sense that I ‘could’ and ‘should’ be better at this than I am – further highlighting how slow I am.

I think what’s helped is coming to see that I’m looking to get a sense of the landscape rather than map every microbe. Trying to understand where there is fertile soil, areas that are densely populated and those which are little travelled, or perhaps approached from one direction but there might be paths to and from that part which haven’t been traversed. I’m not looking to map every blade of grass, every piece of bark on every tree. Stepping away from that level of detail to try and get more of a sense of how different things connect. Trusting that I can still make my way through the landscape, and understand myself in relation to that landscape, without having to account for each leaf on each tree.

The other aspect that has particularly shifted in the way I read, is now more actively getting a sense of myself in that landscape, rather than seeing myself as a passive viewer of it. When reading books before, whether fiction or non-fiction, it would feel like there would be some dialogue between myself and the author(s). Perhaps it might be the tone or a turn the story or a character took in fiction that I found myself reacting against. In non-fiction that sense of things being revealed, deepening my understanding, shifting my views or giving them more nuance or connections to other disciplines, ideas or events. And having the opportunity to discuss those views in book clubs or elsewhere meant I was still exploring them, just that for much of the time it felt like I was not a part of those discussions.

In trying to learn how to read for my PhD I’ve been reminded of the the first time I wore my lovely long-distance prescription sunglasses. It took over twice the time to walk home as the sights I could now see blew my mind. I loved that walk, and being shown the world anew. I was astonished that everyone else who could presumably see as well as I now could wasn’t also doing the same. In time that sense of wonder shifted, still there in that way, and available for me to dip into, but not something that I needed to do all of the time. That I could go about my business with a deeper appreciation and sense of ease when moving through the world.

Now when I’m wearing my prescription sunglasses and being able to see things that are far away, I can still enjoy it, revel in it but I can slip into and out of different modes of seeing. Sometimes that detail is front of mind and all I can focus on and that’s lovely. Other times, it’s a quiet background hum and instead I’m able to see the view, take in the overall scene. That ability to shift my focus with the reading, to sometimes place myself in the moment or go into lots of detail and at other times to step back is something that is taking a while, will likely continue to take a while, to learn. It’s likely to be slow, or slower than I think it could or should be to learn. Likely to continue feel frustrating but hopefully continues to make my world feel richer and more resplendently detailed, while helping me to get a better sense of the overall lay of the land.

History may not repeat itself, but it might rhyme

Reading Barbara Penner’s fascinating book ‘Bathroom’ (2013) about how the modern, predominantly Western, bathroom has evolved, the parallels with the energy transition felt noticeable. Very different technologies involved but both water and energy consumption are so firmly entrenched in our lives, expectations and daily practices. The history of bathrooms shows how differently we can behave and therefore suggests we shouldn’t assume we’ve reached an unimprovable, or unchanging situation with the current entrenched position of bathrooms in our lives. How they came to be so offers reflections for the energy transition.

Penner traces the development and refinement of different technologies, showing a mix of reasons and circumstance that dictated which became more widely adopted and which fell by the wayside. How, despite new bathroom related technologies becoming available, there were issues with deployment. They were usually only available to the rich, and even then often only taken up by those who were prepared to deal with the issues getting technologies put in to their home, particularly when the wider infrastructure like sewage pipes wasn’t there to support it. Many poorer areas struggled to get the new products because companies weren’t interested, with a more widespread approach only happening when the public sector got involved. Where efforts were targeted at those who were less well-off, it was often driven by a sense of morality and desire to improve health but also behaviour. Henry Roberts, a Victorian architect, designed flats for poor families which were radical in their inclusion of a room specifically designated as a bathroom. The aim of Roberts was to provide the occupants with the ‘moral training of a well-ordered family’, looking to introduce and enforce an appropriate distance between the bodies of the various occupants and also between the bodies and their waste.

The patchy, ad hoc nature of the change and take-up of bathrooms was interesting to read about. In a world where fitted, matching suites are the norm, hearing about people starting to get some elements of what we would now consider to be fundamental parts of the bathroom, the toilet, sink and bath or shower, but not all of them showed how much has changed. Striking too, how those decisions would be driven by considerations around space, cost and availability, with factors such as health, morality and norms also playing a big part. Even where people did get some aspects of the bathroom put into their home, they would often continue with older technologies in parallel.

In the world of energy transitions, the take-up of new technologies is patchy too – globally but also within countries and across geographies, property types and personal circumstances. Even in the same home, people can have a few different technologies. Perhaps getting some insulation or a heat pump to serve an extension, whilst still having the boiler as the main heating source for instance. Although less explicitly moralistic than some of the efforts in relation to water and bathrooms, there is still a sense that it’s the ‘right thing to do’ to try and support those who are less well-off to get energy measures installed. That said, it’s also true that lots of the early adopters for energy measures are those who are well-off and prepared to navigate the complexity of installation.

Penner is also really strong on showing how the development of the bathroom allowed for our homes and bodies to become much more private spaces whilst also making bathrooms, and by extension homes, much more connected to the public sphere and regulated. Previously, all the functions we would use a bathroom for were done in more communal spaces. People would go to the toilet together, or in more public or shared spaces. Bathing, or cleaning yourself if not actually taking a bath, would be done in spaces with other uses, such as the kitchen, scullery or bedroom. As well as sharing spaces, people would often share the washing water itself.

To allow for the infrastructure which could underpin the kind of toilets we now consider to be standard, regulation and government action happened. The Public Health Act 1848 had clauses regarding domestic sanitary arrangements, marking the first moment when government entered the private bathroom in a meaningful way. The Act required that any new built or rebuilt house needed a sufficient WC or privy and an ashpit with doors and covering. Homeowners were required to notify the local board of health in writing prior to constructing privy/cesspool and surveyors were given the power to shut down any judged to be nuisance or injurious to health. Eventually The Great Stink of 1858 led to the closing of private cesspools and stopped people putting their waste into the Thames, facilitated by the building of a co-ordinated waste system to manage and treat the waste. This led to the adoption of that approach nationally and internationally too.

A criticism of action on climate by those who would consider themselves to be right-wing is that it’s really just cover for more intervention by the State. It was clear reading the book how development of products by the market helped make deployment possible. Without that range of options available, the problem solving to try and improve measures and the mix and match potential that marked the start of the development of the bathroom, it’s hard to see either why more infrastructure might be needed or how it could develop. That said, and I’ve not done further reading so perhaps other accounts might take a different view, it’s hard to see how the development of the infrastructure could have developed in an holistic way without the intervention of government. The private sector focus on generating a desire in those who could pay, and would put up with the challenges of getting measures installed and adapting their homes and way of life, didn’t seem able to provide a comprehensive offer to everyone. Private sector effort and enterprise could generate a want and partially fulfil it.

That sense of the attitudinal changes shifting over time, which fed into and out of the technology changes, was such a strong part of the story for me. As someone who has been brought up with certain norms around cleanliness, so much of what was normal for so many seems unthinkable now. It was a reminder of the fact that even though things can feel quite fixed in terms of behaviours and norms, they are constantly changing, as are how we use spaces, or even if we have designated spaces at all for certain activities. With the advent of new technologies it became easier for people to decry public defecation, once normal and necessary but less so when technology provided other options and design allowed for privacy.

I came to the book to get an understanding of how a part of the home has changed. One of the things that became quickly obvious but I hadn’t consciously engaged with when starting my PhD, was that different parts of the home are subject to change in different ways and over varied timescales. It was therefore really useful to get a sense of how changes to bathing and toilet habits have affected what we now think of as the bathroom, as well as other parts of the home. What was reassuring was how much of it felt relevant for the changes in how homes are designed and used now from an energy and broader environmental perspective. Despite the different technical challenges, I finished the book with a deeper sense of how fundamental social and cultural changes are to if and how positive change unfolds.

‘While it often feels as if change is unthinkable – that people’s beliefs and behaviours are as deeply entrenched and immovable as infrastructure – this history has shown time and time again that our ideas about and our methods of dealing with water and waste are much less uniform, inevitable and fixed than we usually realize. Bathrooms, like sewers, are relatively recent inventions and they constantly evolve and adapt in the face of shifting social, medical, economic, political and environmental factors.’

Barbara Penner, ‘Bathroom’

The hard sell

I was at Elemental London earlier this week. A trade show and conference about the built environment. Plenty of flanges and pumps and gadget goodness to try and make sense of.

At one of the sessions I did go to, someone giving a presentation said that it’s hard to sell heating systems because people only want to talk about them if something goes wrong. A gentle, knowing laugh went around the space.

It feels like there’s plenty of truth in that. Heating systems aren’t the most exciting thing to talk about, there’s lots of technical details which don’t mean much to most people. The language and technical details can be off-putting to most.

So why try and sell a heating system? Why not talk about the things that do interest people instead? Warmth and comfort and relaxation. As Fouquet discusses, people think about energy services – not exactly marketing ready language but that phrasing more readily engages with what people are actually looking for. The outputs and opportunities that flow from the energy, rather than actively being interested in the energy source itself.

We can either keep being frustrated with people or we can go to where they are and really engage with what interests them. There was some sense of an attempt to do that in sessions around the conference, with discussions around co-creation and protecting what’s important to people. More of that is needed to turn fledgling ideas and approaches into things that can more consistently appeal to people.