Chapter 1
Instrumental Citizens
How to Retool Action
The world of sensors is one of amplified connections. Sensors are meant to join up and speed up, while also facilitating and enabling. Whether adjusting lighting levels or advancing political engagement, a quickening of activity is expected to unfold through sensors. Sensors are embedded in urban infrastructure and surveillance systems, and they are packaged as makerly kits and citizen-sensing projects. But to get here, you need to follow the instructions. Working with sensors typically involves the uptake of the how-to guide. Citizen sensing requires settling into the instructional mode and the imperative mood. A sensing citizen is a handy subject, an action-oriented and technically equipped actor able to tinker toward new configurations. Behold, the instrumental citizen!
Sensors are a key component of citizen sensing. They enable the measurement and detection of environmental variables. Sensors, and the growing use of these devices for citizen-sensing projects, are in some ways part of a wider movement toward the how-to and the do-it-yourself. Handbooks and user’s guides cover topics both technical and philosophical. From YouTube videos providing instruction on how to troubleshoot the use of microcontrollers, to handbooks for using and “abusing” the Internet of Things (IoT),1 to how-to forums and Instructables, the genres and formats of the digital continue to expand and develop into well-used vehicles for technical instruction. How-to guides and instructions are integral to computation. Code is an unfurling of instructions. Algorithms set in place procedures for computational processes. The instructional has intensified its residency in machines.
As the how-to proliferates and instructions unfold through every aspect of the computational, this chapter considers why the how-to has become one of the prevailing genres of the digital. Alongside wondering about the how-to format, this text examines how the instructional approach to sensors contributes to particular ways of engaging with these devices. “How to do things with sensors” is as much a question as a set of instructions that considers how things are made doable with and through sensors, and by specific modes of instrumental citizens. A study of sensors could unfold through any number of modes of inquiry, whether an ethnography of use or a technical exposition. Because sensors are meant to organize worlds of action that include building, coding, and installing these technologies, while also analyzing data that they produce, this chapter-as-guide describes practice-based research that attempts to inhabit the practical cosmologies of sensors. This research informs the chapters that follow, which describe how the Citizen Sense research group set up sensors in the open air. As a guide, this chapter further considers how worlds are made sense-able, breathe-able, and action-able through the instructional mode of citizen-sensing projects.
Although the how-to guide is now prevalent within digital spaces, it is certainly not unique to the digital realm. Handbooks advise how to live forever, how to live on Mars, how to meet aliens, how to conquer the internet, how to make a million, how to build a rocket, how to clone a sheep, how to split the atom, and how to save the planet. And this list is just a cursory scan. How-to guides run into the tens of thousands. The how-to guide not only outlines procedures for attaining the grandiose or epic but also informs on the banal and the necessary. There are how-to guides for foraging for food after a disaster and learning handicrafts. How-to guides also provide instructions for organizing political campaigns, undertaking direct action, and following step-by-step programs toward greater democratization.2
One subgenre of the how-to guide that is of particular interest for this study is what might be considered a more radical or countervailing approach to instructions. These how-to guides span from instructions for surviving in a world with which one is at odds, to working and reworking digital technology toward engagements beyond the usual privileged actors, and making more livable worlds.3 These how-to guides are far from simplistic in assessing the problem at hand or remedying approaches. Instead, they often undertake a necessary and powerful diagnosis of inequality, injustice, and distress and how to combat or circumvent these conditions. In this way, the how-to guide is not merely instructional for assembling gadgets; it is also a life guide, suggesting how best to carry on. Still other how-to guides are written as counterinstructionals. Joanna Russ’s How to Suppress Women’s Writing uses the how-to guide to demonstrate the multiple strategies by which women’s writing is dismissed, derided, appropriated, and erased. Her point is not to facilitate or encourage these practices but rather to expose the habitual, recurring, pernicious, if often implicit ways in which some voices are excluded to amplify the writings of the privileged. How-to guides express political commitments. They are not merely a universal set of skills for anyone to follow, even for a seemingly accessible technology such as citizen-sensing devices. They can also serve as normative devices, reproducing unjust political structures and relations. Or they can provide resources for breaking with and addressing inequities.
How-to guides are often organized as or accompanied by toolkits that serve as the essential components for configuring and materializing instructions. Toolkits are the thing to be constructed, gathered, and mobilized; they are the instrument to achieve particular effects. Astonishing capabilities are often channeled through toolkits, from suitcases and bug-out bags that can save you in an emergency4 to ad hoc solar power setups and moonshine installations.5 At least since the 1960s, how-to guides have been bound up with a seemingly countercultural ethos, where access to tools might rework living environments.6 Some of these kits and instructions yield the unprogrammatic, the unexpected, the incommensurate, and the incomputable.7 Other DIY projects present “tactical” strategies for intervening within the current operating systems of technoscience to realize more socially just or equitable relations.8
Within this instructional realm, it seems the manifesto has given way to the toolkit. The manifesto form of often dogmatic proclamations has yielded to a more open-ended organization of practices. Radical toolkits, in particular, gather instruments and resources that serve as practical philosophies and modes of organizing in difficult circumstances. There are speculative “feel-tank kits” to retool political action and imaginaries; “killjoy survival kits” for living a feminist life and surviving ongoing adversity; and radical pedagogy kits for sharing skills, lore, and community-organizing techniques.9 At the same time and in a diverging way, policy recommendations now often circulate in the form of toolkits, a format that governments and NGOs use to advocate for the accessibility of the policy-making process.10 This approach runs the risk of shoring up power structures while presenting governance as a more transparent and DIY process. In this sense, toolkits can be shape-shifting genres that variously provide guidance for rerouting, or reinforcing, sociopolitical practices.
While the focus here is on the how-to in relation to digital technologies, especially environmental sensors and citizen-sensing projects, an extensive assortment of instructionals and toolkits informs this study. A history of how-to and instructional guides would be an interesting project, although this is not within the scope of this research. Instead, I examine the instructions and instructional approach that inform and develop through the configuration and use of citizen-sensing technologies, which informed the practice-based methods of the Citizen Sense research project. In working through the instructional approach, I consider in what ways how-to guides not only enable technical engagements with citizen-sensing devices but also provide distinct material formats and political practices for addressing environmental problems. Toolkits are guides to action. They offer ways not just to make sensors but also to construct breathable worlds.
The procedural approach could promise an outcome of sorts. Yet what happens when instructions are imperfectly followed or ignored? And what occurs if the promised effects do not unfold as expected? The how-to guide could be a helpful set of instructions and a potentially overly programmatic mode of engagement. The how-to quickly moves from the how-to-do-it to the do-it-this-way-or-else. The how-to could become a means of cybernetic command and control: follow these steps to a certain outcome, not through an overarching program of control but the pursuit of edifying instructions. Here technology could close in on itself, and instrumentality could lead to the bad sort of functionality against which philosophers engaged with technology have warned. Technologies in this register are seen to fulfill mere functions. As Gilbert Simondon has suggested, this master–slave condition can overlook or suppress the relations that unfold across environments, subjects, and zones of energetic and cultural transfer.11
The how-to could, then, be expressive of an imperative mood. Procedure and instructions are bundled up with a pedagogy infused with soft commands and imperative verbs. The digital propagates a cascade of directives. The how-to maker-verse assembles as a hub of instructions. Image tiles organize into task sessions; search bars open up into multidimensional cosmologies of the how-to; the ten-minute step-by-step guide promises incremental if expedient accomplishment; and the soothing virtual confab of video narrators begins with the ever-familiar entry point: “Hi, guys, I’m here to show you how to . . .” The instrumental citizen who enters the how-to process is not just learning how to make and use technology but is also entering into modes of procedure, instruction, implementation, and instrumentality that guide digital participation.
This chapter engages with the how-to and the imperative mood as critical aspects of how citizen-sensing technologies and practices occur. On the one hand, it charts a how-to investigation of citizen-sensing practices and procedures. It recounts experiences of initially testing sensors and deploying these in the open air, while providing a guide to carrying out practice-based research into citizen sensing. On the other hand, it reflects on the how-to as a genre and approach meant to realize more proficient digital and instrumental citizens. Yet this seemingly straightforward practice of monitoring environments with sensors to activate political change rarely—if ever—unfolds in such a straightforward way. Nor does citizenship magically emanate from the use of these devices. The uptake of citizen-sensing devices, then, triggers a critical set of questions aligned with those raised in the introduction to this book.
Which citizenship practices do these digital technologies activate, legitimate, reproduce, or transform, and who can operate as an instrumental citizen? Suppose the how-to aspect of these technologies is meant to guide not just the construction of sensors but also the formation of political subjects. How then do sensors influence environmental actions and relations? And if the use of citizen-sensing devices does not lead to specific outcomes, how do these practices instead generate open-air instrumentalisms that contribute to struggles for breathable worlds? These questions inquire into whether citizen sensing achieves its stated results and realizes its hoped-for effects, or whether different engagements unfold along the way that rework the operations and relations of these instruments. At the same time, these questions consider who registers as a political subject and how or whether sensing technologies reproduce the inequalities that often characterize citizenship.
Rather than addressing these questions by describing the phenomenon of the how-to through a distanced commentary, I work through instructions and approaches to building toolkits, monitoring environments, analyzing data, communicating evidence, and attempting to realize political change through the Citizen Sense project. I consider how protocols and toolkits, practical manifestos and political programs, inform and materialize as citizen-sensing projects and practices. By attending to the how-to as a particular orientation to technology, I suggest that engaging with toolkits and guides is also a way of working through, reworking, and transforming the possibilities of technical, political, and environmental practice. In this way, I examine how an engagement with toolkits can become a way to retool approaches to instruments, instrumentality, and digital worlds in the making.
This investigation into how to do things with sensors is a modest proposal for practice-based research methods. It unfolds by recounting experiences of working with citizen-sensing technologies while collaborating with a wide range of participants. By working through engagements with sensor technologies, communities, environmental pollution, and political processes, this research suggests how to study and activate citizen-sensing actions. Practice-based research can generate techniques to query the promised effects of sensors and test forms of political engagement. Yet practice-based engagements with citizen sensing demonstrate how technologies organize action and create effects in ways that are never as straightforward as initially promised. These are practices in the making, where technologies, citizens, and political relations materialize within distinct milieus.12
The practices involved in undertaking citizen-sensing projects require not just putting together assorted electronics but also attending to complex configurations of technology, politics, environments, and modes of citizenship. This examination of the how-to and the toolkit does not idolize making and craft but instead offers a theory of practice and action oriented toward the possibilities for building more breathable worlds. This text attends to what is often left out of how-to guides. By engaging with what might be on the margins of technical interest, I hope to rework how to encounter citizen-sensing technologies, less as instruments able to implement certain ends and more as openings into rethinking socio-environmental potential and technopolitical relations. Can instruments generate instrumentality, not of the positivist sort, but more of the pragmatist type, where, as John Dewey has suggested, instrumentality necessarily requires an experimental and contingent set of engagements?13 While such an orientation might seem to point toward instrumental relations in the sense of easy outcomes, it instead gives rise to expanded engagements with action and effect. Instruments as ideas require what William James has called the “open air” to unfold as lived experiences and processes.14 Indeed, as Cornel West has pointed out, pragmatism concerns the contingencies of subjects, collectives, and worlds as well as theories and knowledge, which in their more pliable formation can act upon and respond to social crises and democratic struggles.15
By reading pragmatism sideways through engagements with feminist technoscience, environmental justice, Black studies, and Indigenous theory, and by working with instruments in practice, I suggest that it might be possible to reengage with instrumentalism beyond its usual extractive and expedient registers to consider expanded relations of effect and effectiveness. I situate this engagement within the open air of inquiry to express the sociopolitical constitution of instruments as much as to relay how devices are situated in and make worlds. The how-to is a proposition for open technology, which can be a way to engage with machines beyond fixed outcomes.16 How-to here becomes an invitation to make, organize, orchestrate, conjure, and sustain people, technology, and worlds toward openings rather than prescribed ends.17 While ends might inform the starting points for particular technopolitical practices, they inevitably change along the way. An instrumental proposition becomes a site of transformation. This chapter-as-how-to-guide proposes how to retool the how-to approach, not to proceed toward certain results, but rather to work for open engagements. As noted in the Introduction to this book, I call this approach open-air instrumentalisms. Retooling is a practice in open-air instrumentalism that creates and tests actions for working toward more breathable worlds.
How to Construct Toolkits
Many digital technologies occupy a curiously contrary position. They seem to offer engagement and empowerment for individual users. Yet they are often highly controlled and monopolized technologies that bind users into particular practices and relations. Such an observation has been made through numerous analyses of an array of digital gadgets, data, and platforms.18 Digital technologies organize deceptive relations to a seemingly empowered if minutely surveilled user. Social media enables views to be broadcast while profiling users. Apps and wearables track sleep and fitness while promising greater well-being and productivity. Digital technologies manage, inform, and otherwise mediate everyday activities, and these functions are overseen by a limited number of organizations with often questionable agendas and discriminatory practices.19
To unravel the typically rigid contours of digital devices, many DIY technologists have begun to assemble microcontrollers, sensors, and code to develop a more informed engagement with these machines. Here the toolkit becomes a way to fashion a more deliberate encounter with digital devices. By making electronics from the ground up, one is meant to decode the decisions made in setting up technical configurations one way and not another. But even the fashioning of a toolkit already contains a set of built-in assumptions and orientations toward technopolitical action. Tearing down electronics and remaking them into toolkits for assembly is a process I examine more closely here. Multiple toolkits address how to develop observant digital practices, including how-to guides for erasing your internet profiles, how to become anonymous online, how-to instructions for undergoing a data detox, and how-to guides for building a DIY bulk surveillance system.20 In this sense, toolkits not only provide instructions and materials but also indicate how to live with, through, and against these technologies. Toolkits provide instructions not just for assembly and use but also for attending to the social and political ramifications of digital devices.
Figure 1.1. Prototyping a first-generation AirCasting air-quality monitor from Habitat Map. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
Figure 1.2. Testing a plug-and-play Airbeam air-quality monitor from Habitat Map. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
Citizen-sensing technologies present a similarly complex set of instructions, practices, relations, and politics. Many of these technologies monitor environmental variables, such as air or noise pollution. Air-quality monitoring toolkits can be found in multiple forms, which do not even necessarily include digital devices. Indeed, there are long-standing practices of working with diffusion tubes to monitor nitrogen dioxide. Small plastic tubes can be affixed to lampposts and street signs across an urban area and then sent to a laboratory for analysis. Such low-cost analog devices provide a monthly average of nitrogen dioxide levels and indicate pollution levels in an area. These monitoring practices often also include instructions for how to undertake a campaign for improving air quality, together with technical instructions for installing diffusion tubes and analyzing data. The expanded toolkits that mobilize along with these devices can be oriented to community organizing and local activism, urban design and traffic interventions, collective mappings and town hall meetings, and problems of digital functionality. These aspects of toolkits are no less important, yet they tend to recede from view when the focus is on learning the technical aspects of digital monitoring technologies.
The rise of citizen-sensing practices and technologies could in one way seem to activate instrumental—or, in other words, potentially reductive and functional—approaches to citizenship and political engagement.21 Citizen sensing is a collection of technologies and practices for monitoring the air that are often bundled into toolkit form. These digital technologies are used to monitor and measure environmental problems and to generate data that could be actionable for policy and regulation. Yet in another way, these instruments in the form of low-cost environmental sensors could rework what might be seen as instrumentalist approaches to politics. They could develop different vocabularies and trajectories of effect and effectiveness that challenge the apparently linear logic of these instruments. By following the seeming instrumental course of the how-to, citizens could find they are instead involved in more knotty and wayward struggles for more breathable worlds.
Getting Started: An Incomplete List of Sensor Kits
Let’s look more closely at a few citizen-sensing technologies to consider how these practices present alternative strategies for documenting and acting on environmental problems. While only a few of the many sensors available for environmental monitoring are addressed in this how-to investigation, there is an extensive array of citizen-sensing projects that have been variously reviewed, assessed, tested, and assembled throughout this research.
The focus here is on monitoring air quality. Yet there are many more sensors for monitoring water, noise, vibration, temperature, humidity, wind, heat, energy, radiation, soil, and vegetation. Water quality can be monitored through conductivity, temperature, and total dissolved solid sensors like the CaTTfish, and water levels can be monitored through ultrasonic sensors like the Flood Monitor.22 There are Pocket Geiger sensors for measuring radiation,23 and DIY seismic sensors for measuring earthquake activity.24 Moisture sensors monitor the health and presence of vegetation,25 and temperature and humidity sensors monitor beehives and ensure the health of honeybees.26 One of the earliest and longest-standing uses of DIY sensors has been monitoring air quality. Numerous sensors are now in circulation for monitoring air, from the DIY to those sold as finished products.27 A partial list of operational, obsolete, and speculative citizen-sensing devices and toolkits for monitoring air quality includes the following:
- Aclima
- Airbeam
- Airbox
- AirCasting
- AirKit
- Air Quality Egg
- AirSensa
- Air Sensor Toolbox
- AirVeda
- AirVisual
- Alphasense Sensors
- Area Immediate Reading (AIR)
- Array of Things
- Atmotube
- Awair
- Breathe Cam
- Brizi
- Cair Smart Air Quality Sensor
- Citizen Sense Toolkit
- CityAir App
- Clarity
- Clean Space Tag
- Common Sense
- DR1000 Flying Laboratory
- Dustbox
- DustDuino
- Dylos
- EarthSense Zephyr
- Float_Beijin
- Flow, Plume Labs
- Foobot
- Grove Air Quality Sensor
- hackAir
- IGERESS
- InfluencAir
- IQAir
- iSPEX
- LaserEgg 2
- LifeBasis
- LondonAir App
- Luftdaten
- MicroPEM
- Netatmo
- NOKLEAD
- PANDA
- Plantower
- Plume Air Report
- PuffTrones
- PurpleAir
- PUWP (Portable University of Washington Particle monitor)
- Safecast
- SensorBox
- Sensors in the Sky
- Shinyei Particle Sensor
- Sidepak Personal Aerosol Monitor
- Smart Citizen Kit
- Smoke Sense App
- Soofa Benches
- Speck
- Tree Wi-Fi
- Tzoa (Enviro-tracker)
- WeatherCube
- Wynd
These are DIY sensors and off-the-shelf kits, wearables and desktop devices, as well as a few apps that double as sensors through the use of smartphones for monitoring or navigating environments. The sensor names variously suggest democratic initiatives, technical enterprises, environmental revitalization, research projects, and manga characters. The list of names further designates projects and products, communities and practices, locations and platforms. In other words, these toolkits do not de facto include certain components and exclude others. They are in varying states of composition and decomposition, salability and availability, with different monitoring capacities.
Some of the companies or makers of the sensors mentioned above make avowedly apolitical statements, which indicate that the data the sensors collect are not intended to support political projects, nor are the data open to the collectors of air-pollution data.28 Other projects, such as the Dustbox developed through the Citizen Sense research group, deliberately seek to investigate how or whether new types of political and environmental engagement can materialize with these sensors.29 Many of these projects focus on the technical device that is meant to organize, attract, and mobilize citizen participation and data collection. The problem of air quality is in part organized through the devices and practices that environmental sensors make possible. Monitoring air pollutants, collecting data, and communicating evidence about elevated pollutant levels could be seen to be instrumental approaches to air quality, which these instruments facilitate. The instruments and instrumentality of air quality unfold in relation to this broader proliferation of sensors and sensor citizenship. Yet these are open-air instrumentalisms that do not follow a unilateral trajectory.
In this incomplete list of citizen-sensing projects and technologies, you might notice that some devices are ready-made and others require assembly. A number of devices are “locked down” as consumer products while others require ongoing tinkering and maintenance. Several of the sensors included in the preceding list are beta-stage and prototype technologies that have particular idiosyncrasies and require adjusted setup, troubleshooting, and puzzling over how to work with the data they collect and present. Throughout this research, sensors available in makerly form have increasingly crept toward a more settled, product-like state, and in the context of the IoT, several plug-and-play sensors are now available. Yet, if you have worked through building and setting up air-quality sensors, you are inevitably left to wonder about how or whether such off-the-shelf devices are calibrated, how to access and analyze data, and whether data can be used to support claims about environmental pollution.
This overview of air-quality devices and practices is also incomplete because sensors, and especially air-quality sensors, continue to multiply and expire within the usual fleeting time spans of electronic devices. As soon as sensor technologies and projects are identified, new devices emerge and others lapse into obsolescence. Some of the air-quality sensors in this list are new, some are prototypes no longer in use, and some are dead devices that would require considerable effort to reboot and plug back in to operable systems. As with many tech projects, once devices sediment into stable forms, they as readily disappear or cease functioning, with websites flickering into oblivion, firmware updates colliding with hardware configurations, and peripherals no longer communicating across ports.30 But this observation also jumps ahead, because it points to a few things to keep in mind when starting to use citizen-sensing toolkits. First, it is worthwhile to discuss briefly how sensor kits are configured as cosmologies of sorts.
Flat-Pack Cosmologies
The modular instructions and diagrams for assembling toolkits demonstrate a distinct approach to problems, where relevant components are gathered together, documented, and assembled into an entity that will address the problem at hand. Think of the flat pack that consists of an itemized inventory of parts, including atomized images of assembly, with connecting actions signaled through arrows segueing across framed sequences toward a clear outcome. Similar to many modular products that can now be purchased and assembled with apparent ease, a certain flat-pack relationality is operationalized through sensor toolkits. All the items needed to complete the project need only be joined together by following instructions. What begins to unfold in this approach to toolkits and instructions, actions and outcomes are flat-pack cosmologies, where the speculative pluriverse of environmental problems assembles into neat diagrams of constructable relations held together through air-quality sensors.
Figure 1.3. Building and setting up a Smart Citizen Kit. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
Figure 1.4. Unboxing and setting up the Air Quality Egg. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
Cosmology is a term used by Alfred North Whitehead to describe a metaphysical system that represents a universe of relations undergoing processes of transformation.31 The term also has a longer history of use within Indigenous theory and practice to refer to experiences, connections, and activities held in common.32 And Alexis Gumbs’s breath-based cosmology, discussed in the Introduction, suggests how to cultivate connections for realizing political possibility. While flat-pack cosmologies is inevitably a diverging use of the term and concept, it indicates how the toolkit as a distributed and connected system forms and works, including how entities develop, how relations join up, how societies materialize, and how these varying components unfold and are sustained because of the values attributed to technology, especially in modular form.33 If there is no one-world world, by extension there is no one-cosmology cosmology. Cosmological systems of relations form through experiencing subjects, whether sensors or humans, which also have political effects.34
These cosmologies provide reference points for engaging with the relations that toolkits call into being. Toolkits offer a particular way of concretizing maker-subjects, items for construction, modes of assembly, models of action, modes of becoming, desired outcomes, and strategies for holding things together or throwing everything away. Toolkits are ways of organizing problems and relations for action. Even when the point is to crack open or even tear down the black box of sensor technology,35 the component parts indicate new modes of assembly. This tearing down and putting together, constituting and reconstituting of entities, is indeed a salient characteristic of toolkits, which are notable for their modularity and flat-pack-ness but need to be sufficiently open to be adaptable to new circumstances and uses.36
Toolkits, especially air-quality monitoring toolkits, are at once procedural and contingent arrangements. Indeed, the procedural method becomes quickly troubled in the flurry of calculating how to work with toolkits in the open air of environmental monitoring. The next section details these points of procedure as well as how they can go awry. Also of note with the how-to guide is that the you/your of the instructional refers to a maker who is brought into a technical relation. As I follow this instructional, I similarly traverse from first to second person to inhabit the you/your of the instructional and the imperative mood, and to work through the practice-based and participatory aspects of setting up DIY sensor technologies. Let’s begin.
Ten Points for How to Construct Toolkits
When starting off with a citizen-sensing project, one of the first things you might wonder about is how to construct a monitoring toolkit. Yet a toolkit is always more than just a collection of sensors and assorted digital gear. Some toolkits more extensively outline techniques for learning protocols, organizing collection efforts, analyzing data, and influencing policy than the finer details of technical kit configurations.37 Here are a few notes that outline some of the key considerations when beginning your project. Afterward we will look at a few sample projects that will give you a more detailed sense of how these points could be implemented.
1. What is a toolkit?
The first thing to keep in mind when doing things with sensors is that these typically makeshift instruments will give rise to questions about the purpose, the composition, and the coherency of the technology under investigation—but never in such a philosophical way. Instead, the question will arise in the middle of attempting to get sensors to work. The refusal of electronics to function as a key part of a sensor toolkit will reveal the limited effect and scope of these devices. The eventual functioning yet occasionally inexplicable output of sensors will make one wonder at the apparent achievement of obtaining a connection. Sensors have not necessarily, as Simondon would suggest, become sufficiently integrated so as to seem “natural” within their own self-generated milieu.38 Instead, they are often troublesome contraptions that consume your time and energy as you attempt to find an operative pathway to citizen engagement. Sensors, you might discover, are just one particular entry point for engaging with air pollution, which is also interconnected with environmental public health, development, community organizing, and environmental justice.
2. Which sensor should you use to monitor the air?
This is a question I am often asked by people interested in beginning to monitor with sensors. The answer is, it depends. This is the second note on how to do things with sensors. The sensor you choose to use depends on whether your interest is to tinker with electronics, to plug in a device without having to modify it, to focus on collecting “accurate” environmental data, to map and share data with a wider monitoring community, or to focus on a particular air pollutant of concern. These are not always mutually exclusive objectives, but often the focus will be placed on one priority area more than another.
3. What parts will you need?
The third note about how to do things with sensors is that most guides will begin with a seemingly comprehensive list of parts. Photographs of parts show neatly arranged and brightly colored LEGO-like electronics that beckon for a makerly connector to join them up. The parts will include jumper cables and wire ties, Velcro and tape, breadboards and LEDs, microcontrollers and gas sensors, potentiometers and buzzers, 9-volt and lithium batteries, and resistors of various sorts. This list of parts is assembled in different ways, but the basic components include electricity and computation, held together through digital infrastructures. This is less a foundational universe of the four elements and more an operative pluriverse of the many effectivities. As noted, the how-to pluriverse assembles through flat-pack cosmologies. These cosmologies seemingly include all the parts and instructions you will ever need to realize your objectives. However, just as your cosmology of electronics begins to assemble, you will discover that a part is missing or that the comprehensive list of parts defines sensing in one way, such as how to pass voltage along a wire, and not another, such as how to convert voltage into a semi-accurate measurement of pollution levels. The cosmologies of the flat pack are always in process, splintering into multiple cosmologies of what the how-to kit could enable or open up.
4. Where should you begin?
The fourth note when working with sensors is that you are most likely better off diving in and tinkering with a bit of kit before you assiduously read the instructions or absorb extensive advice. The intricacies of pins and holes, cables and ties, are best encountered through physical proximity rather than secondhand reports. Turn to forums and videos once your brain is on the bake, the electronics refuse to talk, and you are sufficiently prepared for the curious if unique hybrid of geekery and spleen that often pours forth from makerly FAQs. Your virtual interlocutors will frequently declare, “No, I will save the planet first, and it will only be through my bespoke circuit diagram!” The how-to should, for this reason, be approached with caution in the face of such zealotry.
5. How do you make a working sensor?
The fifth note on how to do things with sensors is that the device you are working with will likely need upgrades and updates before you have even begun. The instructional guide you follow will recommend software or hardware that is unavailable or out of date. The microcontroller hardware will have been updated to a newer version. You can start with an Arduino microcontroller, only to discover that the software libraries to be loaded on your Arduino no longer function with your microcontroller version. The entire configuration of the sensing kit will have shifted so that a new iteration needs to be developed through the very making and following of instructions. To do things with sensors, you need to trudge through states of nonconnection and electrical blank spots. Lights will refuse to flash, data will decline to post, and URLs will flash “404” where platforms should appear. The online forum and the FAQ section will become your most helpful resources in these early stages. There you will find the near-time updates and fixes that will come to your aid as you bodge your way toward a working sensor.
6. Are we there yet?
The sixth note is that a sensor toolkit will never be complete. It is a roving arrangement of stuff that will need to be topped up, updated, supplemented, extended, and hacked together. A tidy toolbox will soon become the site of a mass spill event. A clear desk will conceal an essential cable. Online warehouses will become ever-expanding otherworldly depots, where making and remaking require just one more trip to the webby aisles of Cool Components. Where does the necessary kit for undertaking a citizen-sensing project begin and end? This question could forever remain unanswered.
7. What should you do with the data?
The seventh thing to consider is that once you have built your sensor, you will need to post your data and map your monitoring locations. This process can occur on a platform that you develop along with a sensor device or on an externally developed platform that may or may not last the year. Once platforms expire, your device will likely require an entirely new configuration to pipe data to another platform. Some platforms require inputting latitude and longitude to mark fixed locations. Other platforms track the routes and itineraries of sensors used in more mobile ways. Platforms can also include the outputs of sensor data, which are presented in a wide variety of formats, from raw voltage counts to units converted to regulatory standards of parts per million (PPM) or parts per billion (PPB) or micrograms per cubic meter (µg/m3). Pollutants monitored could include gases and particles, from nitrogen dioxide to particulate matter. These different ways of presenting and engaging with data raise multiple other how-to questions about how to analyze data sets, how to generate evidence, how to communicate findings, and how to influence policy—topics I address in more detail in the chapters that follow. A successfully connected sensor, as it turns out, will be the least of your problems once you move to the domains of platforms and data.
8. How should sensors be used in the field?
Now that you’re well on your way to making your first citizen-sensing toolkit, here’s the eighth thing to remember: if your plan is to monitor environments, you will eventually have to move from the desktop and workshop to the open air, where sensors will be used in situ, over time, and in a range of conditions. You might have bashed together a passable device consisting of a metal oxide sensor, breadboard, jumper cables, and resistors, all activated by a lithium battery. You might even have mapped or located your device on an online platform, thereby giving your project an apparently global reach. However, there are yet more instructions that could be written for how to undertake pollution sensing, which necessarily expand once sensors are taken out into the open air. This guide attempts to account for the contingencies, experiments, and openings that occur through such open-air instrumentalisms.
9. How do you register pollution?
Assuming that the purpose of putting together sensors is to monitor environments, then a toolkit assembled for addressing air pollution will also ideally need to address practices of environmental observation and engagement. Note 9, which could even precede note 1, is that although it can be quite easy to get bogged down in making sensor devices work, the milieus of these technologies necessarily comprise events such as how pollution registers or might register—including in existing monitoring networks, asthmatic bodies, or regulatory violations—and how communities become involved in attempting to address the problem of air quality to make more breathable worlds. The scope of your toolkit might need to be redrawn so that the environmental, social, and political aspects of monitoring are as much an area of study as attempting to create a blinking LED.
10+. How do you create a community-monitoring project?
Note 10, sprawling to an indefinite number of notes, is that you will encounter endless considerations for how to make sense of your attempts to monitor air pollution once in the open air. This list of further things to consider includes: Which air pollutants are you monitoring? Where are the likely sources of emissions? Which monitoring protocols and methods will you follow? Have you calibrated your sensor? How often and for how long will you collect data? Will your monitor be stationary or mobile? How many locations are in your monitoring network? How will you compare data across monitoring locations? How will you compare your data to other regulatory or reference monitors? In which measurement units will you present your data? How will you analyze your data? With whom will you share your data? What do you hope to change, improve, or challenge about monitored environments? With which organizations or regulatory bodies might you collaborate to act on findings from community monitoring? Think of these points as a guide that can be read alongside examples of citizen-sensing installations and in relation to your own monitoring project.
Although this section is first arranged as a ten-point plan in keeping with the exigencies of the how-to genre, it quickly unfolds into an open-ended set of considerations when attempting to monitor pollution. As this preliminary list for assembling citizen-sensing toolkits demonstrates, any actual monitoring project will encounter multiple situations that deviate from the instructions. These tips could be presented as a set of instructions or as a checklist for how to go about monitoring, but they are also far from definitive in terms of addressing the particular conditions that could arise when undertaking environmental monitoring. In the process of following these instructions, you might have learned that the assembly of sensors is far from straightforward, the composition of a toolkit is neither fixed nor complete, the posting of sensor data can come in many forms, the analysis of data is an area of ongoing development, the protocols and methods for monitoring are often still in process, the “citizens” who would monitor are often differentially able to make their voices heard, and the environments to be monitored will make specific demands upon how data are collected, presented, and turned into evidence. When following any instructional guide for sensors, you will find that open-air instrumentalisms abound.
Yet this is not to say that it is impossible to operationalize environmental sensors to detect pollution and gather data. Multiple low-cost and DIY sensor projects are now in place that continually collect data and document environmental processes. However, these practices are provisional and full of necessary workarounds.39 Inevitably, more than a few how-to guides for using sensors will present this as a simple and matter-of-fact process.40 I suggest, conversely, that by attending to the deviations from the straightforward approach, you could find that many more engagements with sensors, environments, and politics emerge that remake the operations of instruments and instrumentality. Open-air instrumentalisms in this way are to be valued, because they are the process through which technopolitical experiments and more just environmental collectives could coalesce. I will have more to say about this point in the sections that follow.
Now, let’s turn to look at some detailed examples and experiences of assembling sensors for testing and eventual use in the field. A few things to ask along the way are: How does a toolkit expand or shape-shift along with differing uses? What other considerations come to the fore when attempting to monitor air pollution near an industry site or in a congested city? And in what ways does the how-to expand from technical delineations to indicate that these practices have been political all along?
How to Connect Sensors
It could seem straightforward enough to buy a sensor, plug it in, and begin monitoring. But the situation is rarely as simple as that. The process of working with sensors includes struggles with upgrades, deciphering of data outputs on platforms, trials to test sensors in situ, and uneven comparisons with regulatory monitors. Through many practical tests of off-the-shelf citizen-sensing technologies, it also became apparent that users of these devices also contributed to their ongoing development by getting them to function and by contributing to (online) communities providing mutual instructions and tips for troubleshooting.
I should preface this more detailed account of how to make things with sensors by confessing that I am not, of all things, an inveterate maker. I have attempted to cobble together windmills and model cities, jelly rolls and button-down shirts, with each object bearing the sad signs of absent hand–eye coordination. While others might have tinkered together amateur radio sets or carved out three-legged stools, for me the world of “making” has been—and remains—an ongoing challenge to align bodies, forms, and functions. This how-to guide does not unfold as the advice of a seasoned expert to an audience of eager trainees (which itself is a highly gendered way in which the digital world churns as an ongoing performance of master‑y). Instead, it is an account of dogged persistence and muddling along, of the just good enough and the bang-it-together, of the electrical tape and the makeshift arrangement. Luckily, what the hand does not or cannot make in all its supposed authenticity, the computer can readily press out through a bit of code, CAD, and 3D printing, along with numerous tutorials, collaborations, and conversations. In this sense, I engage with the world of DIY sensing as one is meant to: as an amateur connected to extended communities of practice. Indeed, the DIY aspects of craft, making, and tinkering can generate different experiences of embodiment, the everyday, and collective politics.41
In this way, I work through the faltering processes of getting sensors up and running in a citizen-sensing research group. By “up and running,” I am referring not just to making photoresistors blink and microcontrollers talk but also to the extended sociopolitical and environmental relations, from communities organizing to address pollution to participatory research practices that recast the usual contours of inquiry. But this account is still not a tale of salvation through making—digital or otherwise. Instead, it is a faltering if candid encounter with the promises of DIY. It questions the processes of making kits meant to empower while toppling prevailing power structures. By taking up tools—specifically, DIY sensors for monitoring environments—it is possible to describe the finer details of how toolkits assemble. These practices are situated ways to understand the call to “hands-on” action that is meant to remedy contemporary malaise. This approach involves looking at the work-arounds used to make toolkits operational, whether for hobbyism or environmental activism. It also describes how these technologies enable particular political engagements and ways of being and becoming citizens. Along the way, this work bypasses Heideggerian hammers to rethink and rework what counts as making along the lines of what Elizabeth Povinelli has suggested can involve a probing of differential ways of being in the world.42
These accounts are a small selection of the many sensors reviewed, tested, and built. They work through the how-to, document experiences with following instructions, and elaborate on the potentials and pitfalls of citizen-sensing technologies. While these sensors were collaboratively assembled as part of a practice-based research process, it should also be said that some of these kits were assembled and tested in response to pressing public events and participatory workshops in planning. In some cases, this testing and assembly process involved flying somewhat blindly into the world of sensors. These accounts re-create the steps of testing these devices after fumbling through making and setup. In the process, I also argue that there is much to be said for using toolkits inappropriately and incorrectly. This is less a condition of embracing “error” as such and more a way of seeking out the practices that proliferate on the edges of straightforward instructions. As many feminist writers have noted about their toolkits and survival guides, it is through these processes that other purportedly illegitimate or queer ways of being in the world are forged or claimed.43
Making in the Imperative Mood
There are numerous guides for working with sensors, including such texts as Getting Started with Sensors and Environmental Monitoring with Arduino, among other online manuals and tutorials. These texts could seem to be a good place to start, since they set out instructions to follow, sensors to make, and ways of toggling across making and essential concepts. The process of following one of these texts, however, yields unexpected processes of making, inquiry, and engagement. If you begin your voyage with sensors in this way, you will notice certain abiding themes for assembling technologies.
See, connect, attach. Insert, double-click. Orient, insert, connect, push, fold, twist, insert. Grammarians would parse this as the imperative mood. Action verbs and commands distinctly characterize the how-to of DIY electronics. Words order action. Language exhorts. Do this and complete that. Command equals outcome. Make yourself into a model citizen, and a citizen able to make models. Along the way, there will be helpful tips and conversational sidebars to review key milestones and to assure you that the makerly relationship is more friendly than authoritarian as you progress toward your goal.
The how-to guide, then, is a genre of sorts, not only in the stylistic sense but also as a way of organizing anticipation. As Lauren Berlant has noted, “genres provide an affective expectation of watching something unfold, whether that thing is in life or in art.”44 What is expected in the how-to guide, and how is it meant to unfold? One could say it is a genre of problem solving. Problems are identified that can be addressed through learning and sharing skills and procedures. Yet the act of constituting problems is also a way of constituting worlds.45 To make sensors, write code, and collect data are to undertake practices of environmental monitoring that commit to a specific way of acting on pollution. The how-to guide is meant to make acquiring and executing these practices more doable. It also creates practices that attach citizen makers and citizen sensors to distinct ways of engaging with worlds.
In the primers to citizen sensing, instructions are found in the form of how-to guides for making kits from assorted electronic peripherals. They also assemble as step-by-step directions for setting up and plugging in an off-the-shelf sensor to an online platform to view data. There are instructions for following monitoring protocols, instructions for calibration, and instructions for installing sensors in polluted locations. In the O’Reilly text Getting Started with Sensors, which I detail here as the first example of attempting to work with sensors, hypothetical maker–readers begin the project of assembling sensors while also “bending technology to [their] will” to control computation and environments.46 Here the instructional promises a curious mastery of technology, which, as one quickly discovers, can be a bit misleading.
According to this basic guide, the process of getting started with sensors first involves asking “What are sensors?” The text readily provides the answer that a sensor is an electrical input device that “evaluate[s] a particular stimulus within the environment.”47 It would seem that any change or disturbance in an environment could be detected and transmitted into digital form. Sounding in a Simondonian register, the authors describe this as a process of “Transduction!” to explain how sensors control circuits and, by extension, environments.48 Here, environmental phenomena are undergoing conversions into electrical and digital outputs. The “how” prevails over the “why”—technology performs its own logic of execution.
Yet, when following instructions in a guide and toolkit such as this one, you will find that time for reflection is often cut short, since the point is to get on and make things. After asking the maker-to-be to reflect on what sensors are or might be, the authors of this instructional abruptly rejoin, “Enough discussion—it’s time to build!”49 And so you will be off, testing batteries and breadboards and LEDs, switches and alarms. There are many sensors to build here, including infrared proximity sensors, rotation sensors, photoresistors, pressure sensors, temperature sensors, and ultrasonic sensors. It will take some time to get to the finer points of connecting up air-quality sensors, which are not even covered in this basic text. However, as you work through the configurations of these many sensors, you will find that it is one thing to generate a reading from a temperature sensor and quite another to know whether the sensor is providing a verifiable measurement. In the course of setting up temperature sensors in our work space on the tenth floor of an aging office building without air-conditioning, for instance, we found that according to our temperature sensors, indoor summer temperatures instantly leaped to 40 degrees Celsius. Was this due to the electrical wiring of our sensor circuit, was it due to the placement of our sensor near a window on the sunny side of the building, or were we really just about to perish from heat exhaustion? Sensors at this stage of assembly can give rise to extensive questions about the state of the surrounding environment.
The temperature sensor test that Getting Started with Sensors provides is to move the sensor in and out of the refrigerator, placing it in room temperature and then cooling it down in an appliance. But if you also want to speed up the process, you can expose the sensor to ice cubes, the text suggests. The introduction of a stimulus is often used to see whether a sensor is reading. An air-pollution sensor can be exposed to a lit match, cigarette, or vacuum cleaner to see a spike or dip in the data. The first stage of connecting a sensor, then, often involves working through these processes of setting up the sensor circuit configuration, loading a bit of copy-and-paste code to a microcontroller, and then testing whether the sensor detects the introduction of basic stimuli by generating detectable changes in the data.
Many of the kits that allow you to get started in testing sensors in this way are now available as maker kits with all the necessary parts to develop a basic plant-watering system, gas sensor, or temperature sensor. Companies such as Seeed Studio sell an array of such kits that fit within the language of other assembly-based hobbies. Parts to be assembled are included along with instructions, and the process of making is meant to generate new understandings of technology through doing. DIY practices on one level are meant to “challenge traditional hierarchies of authority and the existing status quo,” as Matthew Ratto and Megan Boler suggest, by decentering the usual sites and practices of making.50 Yet DIY can also reinforce particular ways of engaging with technology, for instance, as a project of following instructions to bend technology to one’s will, or in other words, to gain technical mastery and to work on a universal if abstract problem. Mastery as a project has come under fire not just from philosophers of technology such as Simondon but also from postcolonial and decolonial thinkers like Julietta Singh, who suggests that a project of “unthinking mastery” can be a way to undo the estrangement that comes with these forms of relation.51
DIY practices tend to be at once open-ended and instructional. What I am calling the imperative mood in this context is inevitably related to that better-known theory of the “performative mood” developed by J. L. Austin in his study How to Do Things with Words.52 The performative mood is a way of mobilizing actions, relations, and worlds through speech acts. Austin was interested in studying ways of doing things with words by considering the infelicities, misfires, and miscalculations that occur within the performative mood.53 His theory has in turn influenced thinkers like Judith Butler, who has further investigated how social constructs like gender are performed and materialized.54 Karen Barad draws on and reworks Butler’s discussion of performativity by adding a material and posthuman dimension that shifts discursive statements to a field of multi-agential possibilities (rather than an exclusively human utterance or action). In this way, performativity is less about language in abstraction and more about what Barad calls the “conditions of mattering.”55
Theorists of digital technologies and digital citizenship have built on these concepts of performativity to analyze how digital practices can constitute ways of performing digital citizenship.56 Citizenship in these renderings is always a practice on the move, where political subjects and possibilities form and transform through lived engagements. While there is much more to say about performativity than space here allows, this proposal for an imperative mood attempts to work with and alongside this constructivist approach to words, actions, and materialities to investigate how such a mood might generate its own distinct configuration of instructions, relations, practices, technics, and milieus. Even more than drawing out the generative aspects that characterize theories of performativity, I would suggest that the misfires and miscalculations come to the fore just as readily (if differently) when engaging in the imperative mood. These misfires could also be a particular entry point into understanding how open-air instrumentalisms take hold, as swerving experiments with instruments. A resistor inserted into the same pin of a breadboard as an LED or sensor can easily end up back to front. A sensor-wire-battery configuration might connect up or become disconnected. A sensor output might be all but inexplicable. Hence every list of imperative commands comes with its inevitable section on “Troubleshooting” to help makers figure out what has gone wrong along the way. But this process plays out in much more elaborate ways than simply faulty wiring or misaligned sensors. It can also extend to dodgy code and incorrect conversions, as well as data platform errors and bungled sensor housing. Misfires and miscalculations can and often do extend to botched sensor installations, inscrutable data output, and indifferent responses to data gathered.
Many theorists have discussed how instruments generate more-than-descriptive engagements that enact worlds. In other words, instruments are world-making. They are constructive and performative of the worlds that they would detect, measure, and act upon.57 But the imperative mood designates explicit actions along with observations that might be achieved. It constitutes the methods by which such constructions and performativity occur or falter. The imperative mood constitutes the conditions, subjects, and environments in and through which a project is meant to happen and an outcome achieved. It tends to be normative in its register of address. For example, when you load code onto a microcontroller, there is little sense that there are multiple ways of completing this task. Instead, you pursue the project in the seemingly correct way, which you are meant to master before moving to the next step. This configuration of technology, maker–citizen–subject, technical relations, and practical action is what the imperative mood designates.
This initial example of working with sensors by following a standard maker text such as an O’Reilly guidebook demonstrates a common entry point and process whereby sensor instruction occurs. Sensor ontologies quickly give way to flat-pack cosmologies, where component parts join up to create electrical arrangements of action and reaction. The progression through a guidebook and the formation of your own toolkit can be delineated as the working through of devices: from LEDs to temperature and pressure sensors. In other words, guidebooks can promise makers a form of technical mastery without considering the open air where sensors would circulate and shape-shift through attempts to monitor and act on pollution in order to build more breathable worlds. When making citizen-sensing toolkits and following instructions for assembling sensors, it is important to consider how these instructions organize a particular way of encountering environmental pollution through digital sensing, which in turn establishes technological relations and possibilities.
Simply Connect
Once you’ve attempted to assemble sensors from their basic component parts, you might next decide to test an off-the-shelf sensor that does not require an intricate process of assembly with breadboards and jumper cables. As noted, an increasing array of sensor objects and off-the-shelf products can be procured through Kickstarter pledges and online shopping. The Air Quality Egg, which I detail here as the second example of attempting to work with sensors, is perhaps one of the most iconic of these citizen-sensing devices. Having been prototyped through a series of hacker events from 2010 to 2012 (which I describe in Program Earth),58 the Egg moved from prototype to salable product by 2013, when the Citizen Sense research project was underway. Because the Egg was an air-pollution sensor that could be purchased as a complete product, it did not require soldering or microcontroller setup. Such an off-the-shelf sensor would seem to allow for more attention to be given to environmental monitoring, data collection, and public engagement. So our research group began to investigate the capacities of this device.
Figure 1.5. Troubleshooting the Air Quality Egg, including viewing tutorials to upgrade the device middleware to make Eggs flash in different colors. Photographs by Citizen Sense.
We placed an order for our own Egg in the middle of July 2013. In late July, the sensor arrived at our offices in London, sent from Wicked Device, based in Ithaca, New York. On its outer label, the neatly packaged device promised to make more engaged citizens of us all. It declared:
Problem Solved. Do you ever think about the air you breathe? It affects us in ways we can see and also in ways we can’t. The Air Quality Egg is a project working to make the air we breathe more “visible.” Simply hang it in your home, office or outside your window to start collecting your personal air quality data. The Air Quality Egg connects you with a global community of concerned citizens participating in the ongoing air quality conversation.
The strangely daunting prospect of simply plugging in and connecting to a global community of concerned citizens able to solve an environmental problem as intractable as air pollution meant the Egg actually sat on our shelf for another week. Opening the kit seemed to be a ceremonial event for which we needed to be prepared.
So when, in early August, we set aside time to unbox and install the Egg, we made a wager as to how much time would pass before we were successfully gathering air-quality sensor data. Estimates spanned from having the device up and running within the afternoon to a few days. A more skeptical researcher estimated that it could take months, if ever, until sensor data were coursing through this plastic Egg and transforming into environmental solutions. You might find yourself engaged in such speculation as to what the final setup and output from your off-the-shelf sensors could be. This process is central to how citizen-sensing practices take form as ongoing contingencies of devices, environments, and engagement.
Once we had unpackaged the Air Quality Egg and scanned the different components of the kit, we next read through the seemingly straightforward how-to instructions. We began the setup by entering the device’s serial number (or MAC address) into the Air Quality Egg Google Maps platform, where we also located and named our Egg.59 With this, we were able to see the Citizen Sense Egg in South East London, situated within a wider global community of sensing citizens, albeit one that at the time numbered around 250 in population worldwide. Here was an apparently eager if niche community of Egg owners, ready to solve the problem of global air pollution. Once our Egg was on the map, we turned to setting up the device and posting data. You might find, as we did, that putting your sensor on a map is often the most basic and straightforward of the technical challenges you will encounter with the Egg.
The Air Quality Egg is formed of a pair of translucent white plastic Eggs: a “base” station Egg that at the time of testing posted data to the Xively platform, and a “remote” Nanode Egg that does the job of sensing air pollutants and gathering data via a shield outfitted with metal oxide sensors that detect nitrogen dioxide and carbon monoxide, along with temperature and humidity sensors attached to an Arduino microcontroller. Although there have been updates and a new version of the Egg since the time of this testing, with data now posted to a different platform and updates made in sensor setup, this was the device arrangement with which we worked at the time. As referred to in points 5 and 7 above, you’ll find that the Air Quality Egg presents numerous dilemmas in the form of upgrades and fixes. These events are not unique to the Egg, because not only are these relatively new and unstable devices but also they inevitably succumb to the rapid rates of obsolescence that are characteristic of electronics.
During Egg setup, we next discovered that the power plug was configured for US electrics. Since we did not have a power converter, we had to set the proj-ect aside until we sourced an adapter for the UK context. This was a simple enough problem, but we found that it was just the beginning of several stages at which we realized additional kit would be needed to make the Egg function. Once we’d eventually powered the device, we found it did not perform the correct color sequence to indicate that it was collecting and posting data. Flashing color sequences were how we were to “gain awareness” of air pollution through the successful posting of environmental data to the platform. But the sequence of our flashing colors did not follow the same sequence outlined in the setup instructions. We spent some time trying to determine exactly what the color conversions were indicating, before discovering that the color issues were due to a bug that had been discovered several months earlier, in January 2013, but was still affecting devices shipped as late as ours, where the Eggs were no longer talking to the Xively platform for displaying data. An elaborate process then ensued of attempting to reprogram the Egg base and remote Nanode, following the official Air Quality Egg Google forum and FAQ instructions, which linked us to a seemingly straightforward video indicating how to fork a repository of code from GitHub to reprogram the Arduino microcontroller in the Air Quality Egg.
And yet, after completing the process of reprogramming, the Eggs were still not producing “data,” neither in the form of flashing color nor in the form of line graphs on Xively or cryptic bar charts on the Google Maps Air Quality Egg page. Eventually, through multiple waves of turning the device on and off and reloading and verifying code, we managed to obtain blips of data, strange right angles in line graphs, and numbers apparently in parts per billion of nitrogen dioxide or carbon monoxide, but generally remaining inexplicable in terms of what measurement they presented, exactly. We had a modest assurance that the temperature and humidity readings might be somewhat correct, because these agreed with other sensors we had in operation in the same space, but converting the nitrogen dioxide and carbon monoxide measurements to a legible figure was a rather more difficult matter, since we did not have other verifiable sensors in operation for comparison. Our closest point of reference was with the official London Air Quality Network station, and here the measurements were not in units that could be easily cross-referenced.
By getting the Egg up and running, we had experienced what one of our developer–collaborators called the “‘Hello World’ of IoT.” Getting an air-pollution sensor to post data was a basic achievement along the pathway of the IoT. Yet in the process of connecting the Egg we were more intent on asking this IoT “world” a host of other questions about how these devices were sensing air pollutants. What were these sensors sensing, exactly? How could we find out more about the hardware and software setup and the extent to which this could influence the data outputs? Precisely how did the “color-equals-awareness” engagement with environmental data work, especially when color did not signal pollution levels?60 At the same time, what sorts of data were these, in terms of their accuracy, legibility, and legitimacy, when even getting a device to work, whatever the readings, seemed to be an achievement? And now that our device was operational, what were the capacities of the network of concerned citizens to which we were connected? From our use of the Air Quality Egg forums, it seemed that the communities to which we connected had more interest in hobby electronics and computer tinkering than mobilizing their data to influence air-quality policy or enforcement.61 Indeed, the Egg was now circulating in the world in ways where maker communities effectively contributed free R&D by testing the device, while finding fixes and improvements through necessary troubleshooting.62
Figure 1.6. Testing different air-quality sensors and monitors, including a Shinyei particulate-matter sensor, during a walk in New Cross Gate, London. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
Figure 1.7. Setting up the Speck particulate-matter monitor in London, as part of the development of the Citizen Sense Toolkit. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
The universal citizen sensor, embedded in a community of global citizens, comes down to earth by working with the specificities of particular infrastructural configurations. The seamless plug-and-play logic and practices that such devices would promise continually meet with simple obstacles and more complex malfunctions. The imperative mood here might instruct you to plug in your Air Quality Egg and connect to other global and instrumental citizens. But your inability to complete the command or follow the instructions can multiply into a whole set of other practices, infrastructures, and relations that you will likely need to call on to fulfill seemingly straightforward instructions. Similarly, Lucy Suchman has pointed out that even a task as obvious as pushing a green button on a photocopier machine can give rise to confusion, adjustment practices, technical communities, and modified technological artifacts that materialize when simple button-pushing does not yield the expected results.63 Instructions seem to guide a technical encounter, but they do not determine it. Instead, the “sense” made of and through instructions materializes in the actual undertaking of a technical practice.64 Practice-based research in this way is an approach that surfaces the many adjustments and deviations that can arise when working with technologies in lived situations. Instruments and instrumentalities frequently deviate from simple action and outcome. These are the misfires of the imperative mood, which generate the open-air instrumentalisms of citizen-sensing technologies.
Off-the-shelf sensors may promise that you can “simply connect”—and by extension also connect to greater air-pollution awareness and a community of global and instrumental citizens—but they often do not unfold in such a straightforward or liberatory fashion. Instead, they generate open-air instrumentalisms that deviate from the process of following instructions and setting up toolkits. Air-quality sensors do not always immediately function, either technically or in terms of their broader sociopolitical and environmental effects, but in the malfunction of devices and the reconstitution of instructions, other worlds in the making are generated along with instrumental citizens. The misfires that percolate through the imperative mood occur in part through anomalous technical arrangements that come into being, as detailed here, and in part through how these devices circulate and are taken up to address environmental problems. While these sensors proved to be anything but off-the-shelf, there is the possibility (if not the danger) that the promise of such modular and ready-to-use devices also could begin to inhabit the space of politics, encounters, and relations, for instance, in the form of off-the-shelf politics, off-the-shelf citizenship, and off-the-shelf public engagement. This is why it is important to ask what sorts of instrumentalisms are mobilized with apparently ready-made sensing technologies and sensing practices.
At the time of this writing, the Air Quality Egg has undergone many updates and is now available for sale in newer versions.65 The website notes that “big improvements” have been made to the version 1 Egg that we tested. Indeed, its supplier, Wicked Device, no longer supports version 1, and Xively, the platform host, has terminated the data service that the version 1 Egg used. To post data, the Egg would need to be reconfigured to send to a different data platform. As the Wicked Device announcement states about this option, “That’s a fair amount of work, and will require that you recompile and re-load your Egg with the new service destination.”66 The easier route is to purchase the version 2 Air Quality Egg, which guarantees an even more seamless plug-and-play experience. A new device replaces the defunct one, and the promise of technical action becoming democratic action is refreshed.
Around the time we had undertaken our own provisional setup with the Egg, I began to be asked by representatives from local governments, environmental NGOs, and even air-quality officers in small nations whether they could replace their expensive monitoring instruments and networks with Eggs. My cautious reply was, not unless you’d like to spend considerable time dealing with misfires and miscalculations. While many of these off-the-shelf devices can be and are used in interesting ways that add to the scope of DIY practices, they are tetchy gadgets that produce a variable range of data that currently do not transfer well to the spaces of air-quality regulation. While a modest achievement can be made in getting a sensor device such as an Egg up and running, its flickering displays and data outputs do not necessarily sync well with the expanded technical, social, political, and environmental requirements of air-quality governance in its usual sense. For this, you might need to engage with even more versions of the how-to, including points 7 to 10 given earlier, which indicate how the technoscientific configuration of an air-quality sensor and the data it generates depend upon extended infrastructures to make sense.67 These are infrastructures not just of technical capability but also of stabilizing data-as-evidence to address the experience and event of air pollution.
Whereas the Air Quality Egg seems to promise that air-quality monitoring can become a relatively effortless affair, many plug-and-play sensors require considerable effort to become operational. Updated and upgraded versions will still require ongoing maintenance and fixes, as well as skilling up to learn about technical configurations. At the same time, air-quality sensors are now proliferating apace, with many more sensors becoming workable as plug-and-play devices. The PurpleAir sensor and IQAir, for instance, are now in regular use to monitor air pollution from wildfires, traffic, industry, and more. Yet every sensor still raises questions about the verifiability of the data these plug-and-play devices generate, as well as the protocols and practices used during installation. While in no way meant to deter you from testing out citizen-sensing technologies, this how-to setup that involves working across standard instructions as well as actual practices undertaken is meant to demonstrate the misfires and miscalculations that proliferate when inhabiting the imperative mood and when working with the genre of the how-to and the toolkit.
The Reluctant Prototype
Parallel to, and perhaps even in advance of, working with the Air Quality Egg, we were in the process of developing our own prototype air-quality-sensing toolkits, which I detail here as the third example of working with sensors in practice. To begin, we assembled provisional groupings of nitrogen dioxide and particulate-matter sensors that we had used in a pilot walk in the New Cross area of London in early July of that same year.68 You might find that as you progress from following O’Reilly and Instructable tutorials, your own devices assemble neither as makerly stuff nor as off-the-shelf kit, but as particular prototypes that are cobbled together in a cut-and-paste and makeshift way. A sensor configuration that works in one setup can be morphed over to another expanded kit, and code passes along on these various iterations or is drawn from libraries to create a new workable concoction.
Figure 1.8. Investigating different sites, including riverfront and roadside locations, for possible air-pollution emissions during a walk in New Cross Gate, London. Photographs by Citizen Sense.
In just this way, we were attempting to put together a possible prototype citizen-sensing kit that we could use while undertaking fieldwork in the United States, where we were researching fracking-related pollution in Pennsylvania.69 Multiple citizen-sensing activities to address pollution and public-health concerns were already underway in Pennsylvania. In this context, we wondered what role a prototype kit could play in engaging people to ask questions about environmental data, how the data are generated, and their effects in addressing the problem of air pollution. How might data be shared and collectivized? How might data travel differently from the current, if complex, modes of reporting on well locations and pollution levels? In the process of building a kit comprising multiple air-quality sensors, including nitrogen dioxide, carbon monoxide, temperature, humidity, and particulate matter 2.5 (PM2.5) sensors, we found that as many questions were raised about the validity of data that might be generated from such a kit as the possible promises and expectations that could be raised by circulating environmental technologies to communities affected by pollution from fracking. We were beginning to engage with sensors in the open air, not just by moving them to actual sites of pollution detection, but also by collaboratively testing them with communities knowledgeable about documenting pollution through environmental data collection and analysis. In this context, open-air instrumentalisms and instrumental citizens multiplied and abounded even further.
This toolkit in the making demanded that we think through the instructions and how-to pointers that we might provide to make the kit legible and usable. Numerous questions came up when we thought about how these kits might be used in the field: Would there be a manual with instructions for use? Would each sensor be explained in relation to what it senses and how chemical detection optimally works? How long would the sensors need to operate to collect usable data? How long should the sample rates and duration of monitoring be? Would the sensors work only if stationary, and should instructions be given to keep the kit stable during use? Would data be made available to individual participants, or would it be shared collectively on a web platform? Should data be given locational information or be made anonymous? What instructions might participants need to analyze the data in order for them to be meaningful and actionable? Would the sensor housing skew the readings in any way? What are the base readings of the sensors, and are we sure they are properly calibrated? Would the sensors or pollutants interfere with each other? Could we be certain they are sensing exactly what they are meant to sense? Finally, would the kit be damaged in shipping from London to Pennsylvania, and what adjustments might need to be made in the field?
These questions connected up with our attempts to ensure that multiple participants’ engagement with the kit might be collaborative and experimental from the beginning and not only a functional end application. At this point in the development of sensors, we queried the notion that by collecting data—accurate, skewed, or otherwise—environmental politics would be more readily democratized or facilitated. We sought to work through this seemingly more instrumental–functionalist agenda by following and querying the possible trajectories of data to action. Yet while we sought to critically examine the role of environmental monitoring technologies in forming practices and politics, rather than simply becoming advocates of this approach, we also had to take seriously the instrumental logics of these devices and the citizen-sensing practices they activated and organized. These reworkings of instrumentality became part of how we experimented with making alternative citizen-sensing toolkits that could engage with the practices and concerns of participants engaged in preexisting monitoring projects and generate usable data, while also opening into other engagements with environmental problems.
So, with all of this in mind, in fall 2013 we began making prototypes to test how sensors generate, influence, and operationalize environmental data. Our version 1 Citizen Sense Toolkit initially consisted of two primary devices: a sensor shield pulled from the Air Quality Egg, which included nitrogen dioxide, carbon monoxide, temperature, and humidity sensors that we attached to a Grove Board to add a real-time clock; and a Raspberry Pi microcontroller. The version 2 Citizen Sense Toolkit comprised stand-alone sensors (rather than a pluggable sensor shield), including carbon monoxide, nitrogen dioxide, PM2.5, temperature, and humidity sensors; we added our own resistance configurations, which we found considerably improved the readings in comparison to the Egg shield.
With both of the preliminary Citizen Sense Toolkits, the first intention was to get the devices up and running, because in the process of making the kit even more questions had emerged about the how of the how-to. The second intention was to disassemble and reverse-engineer more black-boxed technologies, such as the Egg, which on one level required all sorts of capacities and resources to function and on another level had rather unclear information about how the hardware and software were put together, how the sensors were configured, what resistance was used and how this affected data outputs, and how continual changes of the data platform “back end” (from Pachube to Cosm to Xively) could affect the data’s form and analysis. You might find yourself asking similar questions if you attempt (or have attempted) to make sensor toolkits. Repurposing, retooling, and reworking become key techniques in assembling and questioning the forms of action that these toolkits generate.
In this way, the Citizen Sense Toolkits were built through information from multiple forums, since there was no single official forum from which we might obtain guidance on how to make the monitoring technology “work.” We developed even more iterations of the Citizen Sense Toolkit, including a version 3, which included a Speck particulate matter sensor, an analog BTEX (or benzene, toluene, ethylbenzene, and xylene badge), a Frackbox (for monitoring volatile organic compounds and nitrogen oxides), a monitoring logbook, and a data platform. This version of the Citizen Sense Toolkit was later used to monitor pollutants from fracking at thirty community locations from fall 2014 to early summer 2015.70 Along the way, we foraged for diagrams and work-arounds, forked code from GitHub, and shoveled piles of breadboards, resistors, and cables across desktops. By rebuilding kits and gaining another perspective on the hardware and sensor configurations, we were also able to observe along the way what technical resources, capacities, and infrastructures these technologies require, as well as the decisions that were made or elided to create the monitoring kits in these particular ways, and the domains inhabited to generate and circulate environmental data through these contraptions.
By working with toolkits for sensing air pollution, we tested how these technologies enable certain types of monitoring and generate questions about the limits and possibilities of each of these monitoring practices for addressing environmental and political problems. The practice of making prototypes and setting up off-the-shelf sensors becomes a way to work through the instructions, promises, functions, and malfunctions of these devices. It also generates open-air instrumentalisms. In the process of procuring guides for air-quality sensors, making kits, following instructions, and installing devices in the open air, a number of splintering pathways came into view by deviating from a straightforward approach to these devices. Online forums read as tales of ongoing struggles to set up sensors, to maintain their operations, and to update and adjust when upgrades are available. FAQ sections are brimming with queries about connections, data, and modifications. Platforms bear the traces of half-finished efforts in running sensors, where maps of monitoring locations click out to nonexistent line graphs or inexplicable charts. These open-air instrumentalisms began to take on a more-than-technical quality as sensors were readied for installation and use, where an initial success at connection splintered into multiple concerns about the use or relevance of these devices.
But as noted earlier, this is not to say that devices never arrive at a condition of organized use or implementation. Instead, it is to signal how setting up citizen-sensing technologies is an ongoing trial, a back-and-forth effort of testing and tweaking. At the same time, despite the democratic selling points, many devices remain tied to practices focused primarily on technology and “making” and so can become somewhat self-referential in their pursuits, thereby missing the promise to address—and even improve—environmental problems. Yet if, as Dewey has suggested, the “invention of new agencies and instruments create[s] new ends,” then how do these new instruments “create new consequences” and “stir” us to “form new purposes”?71 This is a question about instruments and instrumentality, which the next section considers in a more reflective key.
How to Devise Instruments
When Whitehead asserts that “every science must devise its own instruments,”72 he is referring in part to the need for specific tools to be formed in relation to modes of inquiry. A study of ecology materializes as an inquiry that significantly differs from a study of philosophy. Here Whitehead notes, “The tool required for philosophy is language.”73 His statement has a multidirectional character. It suggests that tools are required for distinct scientific practices, formed through devising and using distinct instruments. This assertion could point to physics and mathematics, biology and atmospheric chemistry, in addition to philosophy. It might also indicate how the citizen-sensing practices form with and through distinct instruments and instrumental processes. Yet are instruments also defining entities for these practices, which might variously be characterized as what Ruha Benjamin has called a “people’s science”?74 And if so, how are these instruments further characterized by modes of practice and not just their distinct form as tools? In other words, citizen science and citizen sensing cross the spectrum of possible tools and subjects of inquiry. Yet it is not just the actual instrument used that is the defining characteristic, but also the mode of engagement and relationality set in motion that remakes instruments, scientific practice, and inquiry. This section considers how instruments materialize along with practices of inquiry and inquiring subjects—the instrumental citizens who would undertake sensing projects.
Instruments do work in the world. They can make undetectable phenomena evident. They tune in to other registers of experience, and generate perceptive practices that remake sensory worlds. A list of instruments devised along with scientific techniques could extend to epic proportions, spanning the fantastic and the precise. If the air pump has featured to demonstrate the emergence of a particular mode of objective science,75 it has also been the source of much attention in producing universalized subjects who are seemingly detached from making their objects of inquiry and knowledge.76 In this way, instruments and machines have served as devices for differentiating the contours of a rational human subject from an automaton or a duck.77 Conversely, technical devices, such as engines, are not mere instruments but are generative of new subjects, milieus, and relations.78 Instruments might also seem to be something distinct from the contours of the human body. Still, as writings on the cyborg have demonstrated, instruments can remake technologies, subjects, bodies, relations, environments, and politics, as well as what counts as scientific inquiry.79
Environmental sensors as they are used within citizen-sensing practices are similarly wide ranging. Hygrometers and anemometers, barometers and thermometers, as well as metal oxide and electrochemical sensors for detecting air pollutants: there is a roving toolkit of borrowed, appropriated, hacked, and repurposed parts with which citizens work to attempt to document environmental disturbance. Here are multiple instruments with different tunings, standards of measurement, modes of observation, political effects, and world-making capacities. If instruments are integral to the practice and definition of what counts as science, then you might wonder how citizen science and citizen sensing, with their DIY and makeshift instruments, begin to challenge and rework not just instruments but also what counts as science. What are the instruments of citizen sensing? How would citizen sensing vary in relation to those sensors listed earlier, from PuffTrones to the Air Quality Egg? How do these devices contribute to the formation of diverse practices of inquiry? What are their capacities for transmogrifying the evident to make new forms of evidence? These are questions to ask along the way while wondering about these instruments in the making.
Instruments are a long-standing topic of investigation in science and technology studies.80 Rather than tracing the historical lineages and social–epistemic formations of instruments, however, a how-to approach charts the uneven and sprawling ways in which contemporary citizen-sensing instruments help pursue environmental and political agendas and how they at times fail to realize these outcomes. This is a way of working within while also reworking instruments toward open-air instrumentalisms. The instruments of citizen sensing demonstrate how apparently instrumentalist versions of evidence-based politics can give rise to diverse and inventive citizen-based and collective practices through the very attempt to gain influence by collecting data. These practices complicate an easy critique or adoption of instrumentalism. They also reinvent relations with instruments and instrumentality. At the same time, instruments or tools are already mutually constituted with practices so that new citizens and worlds concretize through engagement with instruments, but not as a linear process.
Instruments are invariably involved with social relations. Any change to them, as Bruno Latour has suggested, will also shift social conditions. As he writes, “Change the instruments, and you will change the entire social theory that goes with them.” Here Latour is engaging with the work of Gabriel Tarde to note how “science is in and of the world it studies,” where instruments become crucial to social relations as they are performed, lived, and understood.81 A change of instruments and the standardization of instrumental processes also “in-forms” the worlds sustained and set in motion.82 Instruments can operationalize effects. Such effects are less likely to materialize through an instrumental script and more likely to concretize through the social worlds and political subjects that assemble along with instrumental processes. You might wonder if there is also a how-to aspect to Latour’s assessment of Tarde. In other words, how do you change the instruments so that you can also change the entire social theory that goes with them? In its search to devise instruments, the how-to guide could be a call to undertake experimental engagements that generate ways of working with and through new technical arrangements, infrastructures, and modes of governance.83 The how-to guide is not simply the study of a technical problem; it is also an encounter with the potential of other social worlds.84 When thinking about how to devise instruments, you might consider how changing instruments also changes the possibilities of encounter, engagement, and relation.
Instruments and Instrumentality
Instruments are the tools, devices, and contraptions constituted as they do work in the world. An instrument can be a sensor, a data logger, a toolkit. There are also conceptual instruments, discursive instruments, and policy instruments. An instrument could standardize and measure and also construct and generate. Instruments and instrumentality mobilize inquiry and experimentation while organizing observation and action. Are instruments generative of an expanded instrumentality, or are they prescriptive in their engagements and outcomes?
Instruments are often described as “mere” or “passive” or “functional” devices. Simondon suggests that an instrument-based view of technology tends to be reductive. He writes that the technological object has been “treated as an instrument” considered in relation to economics, work, or consumption but has not been engaged with through philosophical or cultural deliberations.85 Unlike cultural objects, he suggests, technical objects are relegated to “a utility function” and do not enjoy “citizenship in a world of significations.”86 For Simondon, the designation of a technical object as an instrument is a way of focusing on its functionality only, where instrumentality seemingly has a predetermined outcome: to complete the task at hand. By suggesting that this is a way of denying technical objects a sort of citizenship, he seeks to diversify the entities from and through which meaning and sense—meaning as sense—materialize. Tools and technics, in other words, are cultural relations and expressions.
However, while in Simondon’s analysis an instrument might be seemingly fixed in its capacities and modes of observation or operation as well as outcomes, it is also subject to retooling. As Whitehead notes, language is not simply a tool used by philosophy; instead, “philosophy redesigns language in the same way that, in a physical science, pre-existing appliances are redesigned.”87 This redesign occurs in part because of the breakdown of that instrument, which occurs at the edges “of expressing in explicit form the larger generalities—the very generalities which metaphysics seeks to express.”88 As instruments are engaged in processes of inquiry, they are worked and reworked toward the edges of inquiry. These edges of inquiry can be as sociopolitical as they are “technical.” Drone pilots and protectors who push technology to its limits convey this, as discussed in the introduction to this book. But breakdown and retooling are not the only conditions of this instrumental engagement. These conditions occur because instruments—in this case, language—are searching toward propositions of fact that are also referring to the pluriverse or worlds needed to sustain those facts.89
Flat-pack cosmologies surface again here, but from another angle. A world is not ready-made from a toolkit, nor is a toolkit as ready-made as it might have seemed to be. Instead, a world is required for instruments to be put to work, making both tools and worlds somewhat indeterminate in the inquiry to be undertaken, because they are in process. An instrument might reach toward something more fixed and absolute, since it will require its world to make sense, yet these are both in the making within practices of inquiry.90 The instruments and instrumentality that might have seemed to project toward a certain outcome instead generate open-air instrumentalisms. They form through relations and deviate from a fixed purpose. They take shape through distinct modes of inquiry.
These many components of scientific practice involve what Jenny Reardon and her coauthors refer to as the “material relationships that are part of knowledge-making practices, including political, social and cultural ones.”91 Instruments are always connected to a “multiplicity of entangled apparatuses” that include ethics and justice.92 While the focus could easily lead to human-makers taking up instrument-toolkits to address environmental problems, such a perspective would further demonstrate how instruments, observations, observers, and phenomena are entangled such that world making is a distributed and multi-agential affair. In this sense, apparatuses for Barad “are constituted through particular practices that are perpetually open to rearrangements, rearticulations, and other reworkings.”93 Resurfacing here is a certain breakdown and redesign—or retooling—that occurs not as the work of a willful human subject but rather as part of the shifting conditions in which instruments unfold through instrumental operations and relations. Open-air instrumentalisms are multi-agential and not only are the work of makers or tools but also erupt through situations, practices, other entities and relations, along with attempts to build breathable worlds.
In the process of making instruments, you might wonder whether your approach to sensing environments has become somewhat “instrumental” or, as usually designated, overly functional. But as this discussion begins to suggest, even that which seems to be defined as an instrument, and its instrumental outcomes, begins to break down and be retooled through practices of inquiry. Although instrumentality has acquired a negative connotation—to say that something is “instrumental” is to suggest that it is a grossly efficient means to an end—these critiques of a certain mode of causality deserve another look in the context of working with citizen-sensing instruments.94 Although citizen-sensing technologies are often wrapped in the promise of a simple means–end practice, where sensing the environment will generate political change, the instrumental operations of these instruments are never as simple as this. Instrumentality can demonstrate other modes of effect and effectiveness, not that of a reductive cause and effect but rather a multi-agential making of worlds.95 Although instrumentality might seem to generate a limited set of engagements, this revisiting of instrumentality from within the milieus of instruments-in-practice shows how more expansive modalities of action and practice can materialize.
Instrumentality is a mode of experience that might be productive of particular observations, expressions of citizenship, and relations with other collective entities for acting on problems of environmental pollution and environmental harm. Instrumentality, in this sense, necessarily becomes experimental in the process of undertaking concrete action. “Instrumental experimentalism” was a term and concept that Dewey used in a somewhat interchangeable way with “pragmatism” to refer to the contingency of “ends” within a philosophical—or democratic—project.96 On one level, Dewey was accounting for the rational unfolding of concepts in concrete situations that is central to the pragmatists’ approach to the instrumental. On another level, Dewey indicated how instrumentalism had implications for democracy—as a conceptual project always likely to generate struggle,97 contested relations, and modes of governance that are not direct or effortless instantiations of democratic principles.98 Or as West has suggested, such a “future-oriented instrumentalism,” which ran the risk of heroic or individual approaches to creative democracy, was also a search for strategies of “more effective action.”99
A propositional end might serve as a guide for concrete action, but it is always provisional and inevitably reworked through concrete experience and practice. Because an end is not merely arrived at, moreover, it is in many ways radical in relation to the instrumental experimentalisms it operationalizes but from which it also deviates. Instrumentalism for Dewey is about a process of experimentation, inquiry, and discovery. In this sense, it would be possible to say that instrumentalism has always been experimental. From instruments as logical concepts to instruments as material technologies, the rational unfolding that would occur instead gives way to even more prospective instrumentalities.
In this respect (and in contrast to Simondon), the instruments of citizen sensing are not instrumental enough, since they seem to guarantee an outcome that would foreclose the very undertaking of citizen-sensing practices as concrete experiences. This a priori designation of an outcome reduces not just the instruments and instrumentality but also the instrumental citizens that would materialize through these practices. Although the terminology is different, with this Simondon might agree: the conventional promises of citizen sensing constrict instruments into functional outcomes, a process that forecloses inquiry or experimentation. Here Simondon might be inclined to admit such instrumentalism to his analytical toolkit, because this does the work of reclaiming the processes of inquiry and open-endedness that he suggested were more appropriate to understanding and transforming human relations with technology. Shutting down and narrowing inquiry, as Dewey suggests, limits the modes of experience and political engagement that could be possible.
The instrumentalism developed here takes a cue from these pragmatist approaches to experimentation and inquiry and is informed by the open air that James found was necessary to practices of inquiry. “A pragmatist,” as James writes, “turns away from abstraction and insufficiency, from verbal solutions, from bad a priori reasons, from fixed principles, closed systems, and pretended absolutes and origins.” Instead, pragmatism involves a turn “toward concreteness and adequacy, towards facts, towards action and towards power.”100 Such an orientation directs inquiry toward “the open air and possibilities of nature, as against dogma, artificiality, and the pretence of finality in truth.”101 Open air, as I develop the concept with and beyond James, refers to an operationalized and prospective approach to inquiry. Open air pertains to lived experience, to processes of inquiry as they are unfolding, rather than to doctrines to which inquiry is made to conform.
Expanding on this aspect of James’s work, Dewey suggests that instruments in the form of ideas become “true instrumentally” through how they “work.” The working aspects of ideas were far more relevant than the final outcome that might seem to offer up a resolution or promise of truth. At the same time, instruments are also “a program for more work, particularly as an indication of how existing realities may be changed.”102 Open-air instruments and instrumentalisms are toolkits for action; they are able to generate change, above and beyond a static pronouncement of truth. Putting instruments to work in the open air is a process that is integral to practices to make more breathable worlds.103
Expanding on James and Dewey, I move from the unfolding of logical instruments to practices with technical instruments to suggest that instruments such as citizen-sensing technologies are more than a means to an end. As it turns out, it is only by undertaking practices and engagements with and through instruments that contingent relations and capacities—as well as citizens and worlds—begin to materialize, demonstrating that instrumentality has never been quite so straightforward as it might have seemed.104 This is the scope of open-air instrumentalisms: to demonstrate how sociotechnical practices are set to work and how they potentially work toward more breathable worlds. While Dewey sought to clear up the confusion about the terminology and meaning of instrumentalism, I work with this productive dissonance to query the trajectories and outcomes of sensing instruments. I propose the term open-air instrumentalisms as a way to indicate this revisiting and reworking of instrumentality within the context of DIY environmental sensors. This concept and term is about more than logical propositions, since it also expresses the prospective qualities of instruments and instrumentalities. Open-air instrumentalisms are a strategy and practice for breathable worlds, where breathability is an approach to instruments that opens into processes and exchanges.
The open air punctures any closed logic of instrumentalisms. Despite the imperative mood of guidebooks and toolkits that would suggest a quick passage from flat-pack cosmologies to actionable gadget, you will find that there is not a simple way to bend technology to your will. Instead, here are the toolkit, the instructional, the guidebook, and the instrument unfolding into the open air of instrumental experimentalism. Rather than instrumental reason giving way to a singular means–end trajectory, these are open-air instrumentalisms that, when put to work in the world as practice, concrete experience, and contingency, engage with and generate multiple inhabitations that struggle toward breathable worlds. Instruments not only contribute to organizing inquiry in particular ways; they also distribute inquiry across multiple entities and relations, creating new communities of inquiry—something I will address in the chapters that follow. Instruments are involved in tuning and in-forming environments, worlds, and political subjects that further trouble the usual scope of instrumentality: those instrumental citizens.
Instrumental Citizens
By drawing on multiple and diverging thinkers, I expand on the notion of what instruments and instrumentality might mean or generate. There are many different uses of the term instrument across these thinkers, and they are by no means synonymous. The instruments of Simondon are merely functional technologies; the instruments of James and Dewey are theories and ideas put to work in the world; the instruments of Whitehead become part of practices of inquiry; and the instruments of Barad expand out to relational, material, and entangled apparatuses. If Whitehead’s remark quoted at the beginning of this section has much to say about science and instruments, it says less about the subjects caught up in these instrumental practices. Who or what are these instrumental entities? If “citizens” are monitoring environments with sensing instruments, do they become instrumental citizens? Are they instrumentalized in the conventional or in the pragmatist sense? And do they realize new political competencies through their instrumentalist practices, which theorists of feminist technoscience, Black studies, and Indigenous theory develop as strategies of retooling technologies and action?
Suppose the citizen took shape through the pragmatist sense of the instrumental. In that case, it would mean that the democratic commitments of political subjects are continually put to work. Through this work, the very meaning of citizen would come to have consistency. Citizen practices then generate the reality and community of citizens, as well as the transformed instruments that would further spur this work along.105 Instrumental citizens are not rationalized actors completing a designated task—the reductive or functional sense of instrumental. Rather, they are contingent subjects involved in making and remaking—tooling and retooling—political life. As ongoing work in environmental justice has demonstrated, the retooling of instruments occurs along with the transformation of politics and action to work toward less polluting environments.106
A citizen-sensing kit comprises citizens as much as sensors. Yet the “citizen” is not an entity that can be wired and coded in the same way as a microcontroller. Instead, what the citizen is or could become is in-formed by sensors and the extended milieus in which they operate. The “citizen” in these toolkits is meant to be an action-based entity. This is a citizen imagined to be an empowered and effective technophile. The instrumented citizen is an instrumental citizen, in the usual sense of realizing a stated outcome through direct and efficient action. In this sense, the instrumental citizen is a tool-kitted citizen.
Yet the logic and expediency of sensing instruments and instrumental citizens, along with their ability to effect change, is a narrative that leaves the details of technical and political engagement unexamined. It is worth pausing to examine in more detail the usual diagram of how action is meant to unfold and how the designations and expressions of citizens and citizenship are performed through sensing technologies. For instance, Plume Labs, which has developed a wearable Flow sensor and an AI-powered app for forecasting air pollution, focuses on how citizens as sensors might monitor their own air to protect themselves and their families from high pollution levels.107 While they suggest that collective sensing projects are possible, Plume manages and oversees the collected and collective data so that they are not readily available for use and analysis by communities. Plume emphasizes personal action and protection and brackets collective action as a less relevant or feasible use of sensors. This arrangement might assure user–consumers that by monitoring their air they are not sliding into the dangerous depths of citizen activism. Instead, they can maintain a more innocuous engagement with technology to protect themselves and their families. Engagement becomes a more nuclear and normative undertaking, less inclined to the sprawling affiliations of democratic communities beyond the family.108
Such a configuration of subjects is one of vulnerable and responsible family members managing their personal air space in a politically neutral manner. The air here becomes more like an atmosphere of air-conditioning and security—an area of instrumental control rather than open-air instrumentalisms.109 Citizen-sensing instruments facilitate these environmental practices, thereby shoring up a particular citizen-as-consumer engagement with the problem of air pollution. This is not an isolated example of how many consumer-based air-pollution technologies are now being promoted, whether in the European Union or the United States, China or India: the focus is on managing and protecting oneself and one’s family members in controlled personal spaces. Instruments and instrumentality give rise to awareness, personal protection, and responsibilization, rather than collective organization, environmental transformation, or strategies for building breathable worlds.
In other words, these “aware” subjects are not directed to intervene in current operating conditions to undertake democratic struggles toward more breathable collective atmospheres. Instead, they are made aware so as to better manage their own individual exposure. Of note here is that citizen-sensing technologies for monitoring air pollution are increasingly shifting away from DIY and makerly technologies toward finished consumer products. As a result, instruments could become locked into organizing and directing technopolitical engagements. In this context, they do not as readily give rise to open-air instrumentalisms. Instead, they potentially direct user–consumers to a series of corrective or adaptive actions not dissimilar to a cybernetic logic that Simondon critiqued for its functional approach to technical objects, which overlooked how technologies undergo processes of concretization as they in-form subjects and environments, or citizens and worlds.110
Here the citizen also becomes utility-like in the imaginings of citizen-sensing technologies, as an entity able to singularly and instrumentally effect change. But the reflections of Dewey suggest that we might consider other forms of instrumentality in relation to politics. Following the pragmatists, Antonia Majaca and Luciana Parisi also suggest that instrumentality is not instrumental, at least not in the way it is usually conceived. Through a more thorough engagement with the logic of technē, they suggest it might be possible to try “reversing the very understanding of instrumentality,” which could be undertaken “by fully acknowledging instrumentality, politicizing it, and ultimately transcending it.”111 In their estimation, transcending instrumentality entails recognizing that subjects are also contingent, and this contingency is where the political materializes through concrete practices.112
Instrumental citizens might be sparked through instrumental practices, but they are in formation since they are involved in making worlds. In any given situation, instrumentality involves prospective engagements, which constitute the political. A further elaboration upon the concept of an instrumental citizen would then involve taking up Dewey’s notion of “instrumental experimentalism” as the mobilization of what a political subject is or could be.113 As previously discussed, this is less a fixed mode of engagement and more an opening into how the citizen as attractor and force can stir people to new purposes.
Such engagements do not constitute technical solutions but are provisional practices that transform technologies and politics. Instrumentalism is not a test for the sake of a test or an experiment for the sake of an experiment. Instead, it is a practice guided by ideas, technologies, and toolkits that seek to do a certain amount of work, and even possibly (political) transformation, in the world. The fact that instruments and instrumentalities are unlikely to fulfill their stated aim is not a limit but rather is crucial to testing instruments and ideas for further development. As James writes when discussing the work of Dewey, “theories thus become instruments, not answers to enigmas, in which we can rest.”114 This may explain why Dewey used the term instrumentalism as well as instrumental experimentalism to describe this putting to work of instruments.115 Experimental describes the contingent and open-ended modes of action, but instruments are the things and concepts put to work and reconfigured through experimental processes.116 Hence the relevance of this discussion for understanding what a citizen—as an instrumental citizen—is and might become through engagements in the open air.
The point of revisiting and reworking instrumentalism as open-air instrumentalisms is not to recuperate a reductive notion of technical or political action but instead to consider how neither citizens nor machines have ever been so instrumental in the usual sense of the word. The adoption of a citizen-sensing instrument does not make for a more direct realization of a citizen-scientific or citizen-political impact. Instead, it organizes modes of inquiry, social relations, facts, and worlds. Instrumentality describes the instrumental commitments that unfold through practice and in the open air. The logic of sensing used to promote these technologies as a direct solution to environmental pollution could be understood as a form of instrumental reason that diminishes a more contingent and experimental understanding of instruments and inquiry. Instrumental reason is bound to bend, and instruments unfold through contingent operations. Political projects and struggles thus become activated and entangled with instrumental experimentalism.
When taken up and put to work, the instruments and instrumentalities of citizen-sensing technologies break down, open up, and are retooled through particular practices and situations. Instrumental citizens, in this sense, are political subjects (which are also not necessarily always human subjects) that work through the problem of sensing environmental pollution to make more breathable worlds. Here it might be possible to suggest that technical objects could be granted “citizenship in a world of significations,” as has previously been discussed through Simondon. However, such citizenship is never settled. Instead, it is undertaken through the differential and multidirectional practices of human and nonhuman instrumental citizens as they sense and rework toolkits toward more breathable worlds.
How to Build Networks
Citizen-sensing technologies delineate modes of action—including making and coding, monitoring and data collection—that become instrumental yet prospective engagements. The commands to “get practical” as well as the exhortation “enough discussion—it’s time to build!” are calls to action that toolkits and guidebooks, as well as the how-to and the imperative mood, organize and deliver. Yet these instrumental imperatives take on a very different meaning once you rework and retool instruments toward open-air instrumentalisms.
By building and getting “practical,” a shift in current operating conditions is meant to occur. Such instruments and instrumentalities demonstrate how technoscientific practices, instruments, subjects, and worlds are collectively generated, along with an estimation of what the consequences of these instrument-worlds might be. The “practical” is what James refers to as “the distinctively concrete, the individual, the particular and effective as opposed to the abstract, general and inert.”117 Yet for James, when expanding from pragmatism to radical empiricism, the distinctively concrete refers not merely to things but also to relations.118 Or as Haraway has suggested in her discussion of yet another instrument, the air pump, “nothing comes without its world.”119 You might find that “getting practical” requires a greater engagement with the sprawling relations, networks, and worlds that materialize along with instruments.
Figure 1.9. An example of citizen-sensing activities in northeastern Pennsylvania, where a resident installed a CCTV camera to document industry traffic and activity at the property perimeter. Photograph by Citizen Sense.
Constructing toolkits and connecting sensors are practices that further expand into techniques for building networks and worlds. Getting practical is always an encounter with and formation of relations. The setting up of one device moves from making or plugging in a sensor and piping data to a platform to connecting with and comparing data across multiple sensor nodes. But this computational approach to networks is only one way of configuring what a network is or might be as it concretizes through citizen-sensing technologies. While it might at first have seemed the primary focus, when taken into the open air, a sensor becomes one small component within a broader project of addressing environmental pollution. Indeed, when it comes to monitoring air quality, communities are often already mobilized in various ways to document and address pollution. Networks are in the making, but they do not start from zero. Sensors become part of community-organizing practices, and technical relations transform in the process.120
Because networks are already at work in the world, Citizen Sense set out to learn from and alongside existing environmental monitoring practices. During our research, which involved conducting online searches, attending community meetings, arranging interviews, making site visits, distributing logbooks, hosting mapping workshops, and guiding monitoring walks, we found that communities were monitoring air, water, noise, and traffic by using analog and digital sensors, including particulate-matter sensors, air-pollution badges, decibel meters, FLIR cameras, video and photography, and CCTV installations. Communities also used professional lab-testing services, gathering and consulting planning documents, keeping track of changing land surveys, monitoring policy and regulation, and petitioning for changes and improvements to environmental controls.
Practices of identifying pollution sources and using tools to monitor emissions then become just one aspect of different modes of inquiry and action. Communities work with existing networks for organizing environmental projects, and they find ways to contribute to and build on these to address concerns about environmental pollution. They also contact regulators and policy makers to register complaints about pollution, host community meetings, gather evidence about health conditions, give public testimony, share news on social media, set up teleconferences, contact experts and public figures to extend and amplify networks, and document pollution with assorted sensing technologies. Instrumentalities shift here. “Building” something involves much more than making a digital device operational. A project to monitor and address air pollution involves building community-monitoring networks as ongoing, iterative, and contingent practices that make and maintain technical, social, political, and environmental infrastructures.
Perhaps somewhat different from citizen science, citizen sensing has a more specific focus on digital toolkits and devices. The organizational, collective, and environmental aspects of monitoring might initially seem to be of lesser importance. However, in this way of configuring what a community-monitoring network is or might become, it is clear that sensor toolkits develop into much more than digital gadgets or makerly components. By working with situated environmental problems, citizen-sensing practices and technologies quickly become bound up with wider networks of environments, communities, institutions, and politics. The accuracy of monitoring devices, the monitoring protocols used, the legitimacy of the data, and the agendas of residents and communities all come into play as factors influencing the techniques of environmental monitoring and the data gathered. Citizen-sensing practices move from the more reductive diagram put forward by the Air Quality Egg to shift instead into distinct networks of inquiry and political contestation. In the process of making sensors, you might find that these technologies proliferate along with different networks that include the communities of inquiry that make, install, query, and operationalize citizen-sensing technologies.
Communities of Inquiry
The practice of building a community-monitoring network involves building and drawing on communities of inquiry. The process of taking an instrument into the open air does not merely consist of testing or setting up a device. Instead, a toolkit develops along with networks and inquiries. “Community of inquiry” is a concept that Charles Sanders Peirce developed to describe scientific modes of inquiry and how reality, facts, and truth are settled on through collective processes.121 This phrase was taken up by other pragmatists, such as Dewey, to de-scribe how concrete practices of inquiry generate realities that are particular to groups undertaking such work. For Dewey, these modes of inquiry become political, informing the possibilities and struggles of democratic life.122
The how-to can involve multiple processes of inquiry. But this is not merely an abstract set of instructions followed by a universal subject. Instead, the how-to as inquiry is situated within communities. Together with these formations of communities, inquiry, and facts, instruments transform with communities of inquiry.123 This expands communities of inquiry to include nonhumans in their technical and fleshy arrangements and instantiations. This approach to the how-to process becomes less about a maker tinkering with a digital object and more about the collective constitution of worlds. How-to is a way of organizing and asking how to go about something, including how to make a world. How are communities of inquiry organized in relation to environmental problems? What are their practices, tactics, and strategies? But the question does not merely document the occurrence of networks. Instead, it also contributes to the prospective formation of networks. This is part of what you might attend to when making a citizen-sensing toolkit.
As a prospective undertaking, inquiry is a mode of transformation. Another approach to the how-to materializes here, where “how” indicates or asks in what manner, by which means, and how it might be possible to organize ways of life. “How” indicates procedure, practice, and process. The imperative mood shifts to become less commanding and more aligned with a specific obligation and necessity. In Imperatives to Re-imagine the Planet, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak outlines a mode of the imperative that involves recasting the relations of subjects through planetary connections that exceed that which can be designated or made commensurate with subjects.124 The imperative in this sense is as much an opening as a responsibility, a proposition as well as a commitment to justice. “How” attends to the mode of engagement and the imperative of attending to what is at stake in attending to and attempting to address (if not redress) planetary troubles.
Here, the how-to opens up to engage with another register of the imperative: the crucial actions that contribute to lived engagements that remake worlds. Elaborating on this aspect of the how, Indigenous theorist and writer Leanne Betasamosake Simpson writes in relation to Nishnaabeg thought and practice, “It became clear to me that how we live, how we organize, how we engage in the world—the process—not only frames the outcome, it is the transformation. How molds and then gives birth to the present. The how changes us. How is the theoretical intervention.”125 How is the world-making process that traverses ways of life, modes of politics, registers of experience, and integrities of relation. It forms subjects and environments in its indication toward engagements. It is both a theoretical orientation and an embodied collective practice.
Expanding Practices of the How-To
When using sensors in the open air, the question of how to assemble toolkits expands into other orders of instrumentality and the how-to. Is this just a matter of distributing air-pollution sensors to a community? Or is this process a way of forming new networks and communities of inquiry? And if it is the latter, then how might it be possible to expand upon the makerly way of encountering sensors to engage with these devices as more fully social technologies that are constituted in and through diverse more-than-makerly social environments? How-to is a question that activates and indicates how to address that problem.126 The how-to of citizen-sensing toolkits frames the problem of environmental pollution as one of measurable quantities that can be documented and communicated as evidence. Yet this how-to also organizes an expanded set of practices, from how to build a community-monitoring network that responds to the sited problem of pollution to how to draw on community expertise and connections and how to gather observations and experiences of environments over time.
As one example of an approach to exploring this expanded configuration of the how-to, Citizen Sense built upon its ongoing practices of meeting with community groups and residents concerned about air quality by developing a “Logbook of Monitoring Practices.” The logbook, discussed further in chapter 2, sought to approach the how-to through collaborative research and action.127 The logbook was one part of the Citizen Sense Toolkit that organized techniques to constructively and collectively ask about the how: how to build a toolkit, how to use sensors, how to monitor, how to use data, and how to effect improvements to environments and environmental pollution. This was not a process that started from a preformed assumption about what technology is or ought to be; rather, it asked what it could become within a community of inquiry committed to collective engagement with environmental problems. You might find that by asking questions about the how-to with a more low-tech device, such as a logbook, it can be possible to configure an expanded toolkit through a process of collective research.
In this way, our first “Logbook of Monitoring Practices” was developed as a series of questions to ask participants about how they would document the problem of air pollution from fracking. These questions were entry points into the how-to: they asked how to monitor this complex and fraught environmental problem that people had struggled with for years. These questions could be worth considering when developing your own toolkit that seeks to build community-monitoring networks. The questions include the following:
1. What pollutants should be monitored?
From benzene and carbon monoxide to particulate matter, nitrogen oxides, ozone, light, and noise, many possible pollutants are associated with the industrial process of fracking. This set of questions asks what the primary pollutants of concern are and what the toolkit should include to document these pollutants.
2. Where should monitoring take place?
Pollution can occur throughout the hydraulic fracturing process and across its infrastructure, including at drill sites, well pads, compressor stations, glycol dehydrators, impoundment ponds, and pipelines. Here the logbook maps where the most noticeable emission sources are. It also queries what other pollution sources might not be monitored or regulated.
3. Who is monitoring?
Some monitoring activities might already exist and could be undertaken by government agencies or industry. This set of questions asks who might be monitoring already, who should be monitoring if this is not taking place, and how the data should be made accessible.
Figure 1.10. The first version of the Citizen Sense logbook used to gather contributions about existing and proposed environmental monitoring of fracking and air quality in northeastern Pennsylvania. Photographs by Citizen Sense.
4. What monitoring practices are citizens already undertaking?
When pollution is suspected to be occurring, it is common for residents to begin monitoring to determine whether their air, water, soil, and surrounding environment could be contaminated and causing harm. By learning more about existing monitoring practices, it is possible to incorporate these knowledges and experiences within the development of expanded toolkits.
5. What exposures have been noticed or felt?
By inquiring about how exposures are experienced and the distance between natural gas infrastructure and homes, it can be possible to understand the health effects that could be linked to emissions.
6. What is difficult to monitor or cannot be recorded?
The fracking process involves many undisclosed substances in drilling fluids, surfactants, slurry, lubricants, and foaming agents. This question asks about uncertainty regarding environmental pollution as well as the possible limits of monitoring equipment for detecting different substances.
7. How should citizen data be used?
Sensors can generate considerable amounts of new data. Large data sets can accumulate when this is multiplied across a community-monitoring network. This question probes how these data could be used, what effect they might have, and whether and how the data should be shared across the community or farther afield.
8. What does a day in the life with fracking look like?
By asking participants to document what everyday life with pollution involves, it can be possible to record the many activities that could be causing pollution and its associated effects. Everyday life might also have shifted in response to ongoing industry operations, and this question searches for observed changes to environments over time.
9. What monitoring scenarios should be tested?
When monitoring different components of fracking infrastructure, distinct monitoring setups could be useful to investigate. For instance, it could be worthwhile to monitor the “life of a well” as it is graded, spudded, drilled, and finished as a well pad producing gas. Monitoring might also take place at set distances from the emissions source. This open-ended question asks participants to consider what a monitoring experiment could look like, to develop a research design, and to put it into action.
10. What additional observations can be made?
Because residents observe changes to environments over time, and witness the effects of pollution as they take hold, you might find it is useful to ask for photographic documentation of environmental changes and any additional observations or questions that can inform the how-to of the toolkit.
These logbook questions for composing a monitoring toolkit are less an absolute list to follow and replicate and more a provisional map of how different questions—questions that ask how to rather than instruct how to—can assemble a process of inquiry, a monitoring toolkit, a set of environmental observations, an indication of how to work with data and evidence, and an understanding of community networks and interests.
Participants’ contributions included lists of pollutants to monitor, such as particulate matter, volatile organic compounds, methane, nitrogen oxides, and noise. These were important starting points for how we then came to build toolkits to be installed near infrastructure. In the logbooks, clear indications emerged of what parts of the fracking infrastructure were of particular concern, including compressor stations and well pads. In addition, new information surfaced that might have been overlooked about problems with traffic, including industry trucks, heavy equipment, and helicopters, all serving as the moving infrastructure for hauling fracking materials and waste to and from sites. Logbook contributions offered detailed suggestions for who should monitor. They also proposed different monitoring scenarios, including an installation that would encircle industry sites with monitors and provide real-time data to the community.
The range of environmental events, changes, and pollution that participants added to the logbooks became a complex if informative record for considering how to make a relevant citizen-sensing toolkit. As one participant documenting “a day in the life with fracking” noted, the experience of fracking was characterized by:
- Trucks, trucks, and more trucks.
- Traffic tie-ups much more frequent.
- Dust blowing everywhere.
- Hills crisscrossed with pipelines.
- Slow super heavy equipment on oversized trucks.
- 60' wide swaths of trees coming down to make roads.
- Country lanes being widened and built up, completely changing the character.
- Bright lights in the sky at night, near and far.
- More helicopter traffic.
- Noise from drilling, trucks, flaring and compressor stations at all hours.
- More litter on the roadways.
- Torn up roads.
- Torn down barns.
- Not safe to ride a bike on the back roads anymore due to trucks barreling around curves.
- No more rhythm to life—no downtime. No weekends or holidays. Industrial intrusion 24-7-365.
- Neighbors uncomfortable at best, fighting with each other at worst.
- New hospital, donations of gas money to all kinds of causes.
- People spending money on trucks, tractor, pools, additions to their homes.
- Downtown stores going out of business.
- Huge staging sites with parking lots full of trucks, equipment, temporary buildings.
This iterative and collaborative process of asking how-to and of gathering collective observations informed the development of the Citizen Sense Toolkit. The toolkit formed as a collection of different air-quality monitors that participants used to gauge air quality from hydraulic fracturing activities. Yet it was clear that there was much more to undertaking a citizen-sensing project than distributing monitoring technology within a community. The logbook became a toolkit within a toolkit for learning more about the existing networks of monitoring and action as well as the sedimentations of pollution, politics, and conflict within a distinct area. It framed the how-to as a series of questions, which in turn attended to the communities of inquiry that had formed, and could be in the process of forming, through a citizen-sensing project to study air quality.
From Makerverse to Pluriverse
Making is often discussed as a good or end in and of itself, especially in the sphere of digital technology. Action, getting practical, building, working in a hands-on way: these are proposed as remedies to more sclerotic and inert—indeed, even “academic”—approaches to problems. As Lily Irani has observed about an account of a hackathon, there was a notable “bias for action” in the planning for this event, where hackathon participants “sought to intervene in the operations of the world through ‘action’ and ‘making.’”128 Such emphasis on making and action can constitute a makerly subject—or instrumental citizen—who undertakes activities because they seem productive. Yet, as the pragmatists have discussed and critiqued, action for action’s sake is an empty project. Practice is, notwithstanding, the space within which ideas are put to work. It is the very operationalization of ideas—the instrumental aspect of instruments—that the pragmatists stressed was key to how inquiry unfolded and came to have effects, less as the proof of a theory and more as contingent and concrete experience.
Figure 1.11. Participant contribution to logbook documenting before-and-after tagging and clearing of wooded area to construct a fracking well pad. Photographs by anonymous Citizen Sense participant; courtesy of Citizen Sense.
In a different but parallel register, Simpson notes that distinct approaches to making are part of the integral connection between Indigenous knowledge and practices. Making can be “the material basis for experiencing and influencing the world.”129 Her discussion of making and theory is tied to Indigenous contexts, and it also produces a philosophy that differently resonates with the pragmatists’ approach to practice. Yet Simpson further draws out how the collective undertakings of Indigenous politics and governance are also embodied and implemented through distinct forms of making, politics, and governance. She writes:
Kinetics, the act of doing, isn’t just praxis; it also generates and animates theory within Indigenous contexts, and it is the crucial intellectual mode for generating knowledge. Theory and praxis, story and practice, are interdependent, cogenerators of knowledge. Practices are politics. Processes are governance. Doing produces more than knowledge.130
The more-than-knowledge that doing produces involves the very relations and networks that make worlds—and these are political inquiries and inhabitations. Just as making does not take place simply for the sake of making or action, doing is about more than a refinement of theories. Doing unfolds ways of being in and being for worlds. Doing can reproduce practices such as settler colonialism. But it can also test, transform, and generate theories in a connected pursuit of the how-to that works toward more breathable worlds. As forms of doing and action, instruments and instrumentalities are not, in this way, direct lines to certain outcomes but rather constitutive and contingent operations that form worlds.
The imperative mood resurfaces here, less as instruction and more as procedure and practices that form networks and worlds. Procedure is always open to revision through ways of living in and making worlds. Making involves differential ways of being in worlds. Making, action, practice, and procedure generate worlds in the plural, the pluralistic universe—or pluriverse—that was the focus of James in his work on radical empiricism.131 Here, instrumental citizens form with and through practices that would transform polluted environments by working toward more breathable worlds as a contingent and collective project.
As the “Logbook of Monitoring Practices” example demonstrates, there are multiple ways of monitoring environments and accounting for the effects of pollution through forming toolkits, making sensors, identifying monitoring scenarios, and gathering and analyzing data. How-to can be a way to recognize and support a plurality of modes of inquiry, technical practices, and environmental relations. The makerverse of DIY technologies shifts to become the pluriverse of reworked toolkits and action. The instruments and instrumentalities of sensors are not a unidirectional unfolding of makerly agency but rather networks-in-formation that generate collective effects.132 Citizen sensing unfolds not just through sensor devices but also in concrete locations and as collective monitoring projects for documenting and addressing environmental pollution. When building a network, you might find it helpful to remember that this is an ongoing practice involved in pluralistic fields of relations.
How to Test Resistance
Once, while presenting Citizen Sense research, I was asked by an event participant whether the work was somewhat risky to undertake because it could be perceived as an “activist” project. Indeed, the questioner considered the topic of fracking controversial and suggested that “helping people” would forego the objectivity that is meant to characterize academic research. I have received variants of this question in several other contexts. The gist of these inquiries is a worry over the loss of expertise that is seen to be granted by being a distant academic observer and commentator, ideally working on a more neutral research topic.
If ever there were an anecdote well aligned with feminist technoscience, this one surely must seem ready-made to demonstrate the relevance of this body of work. Cue Haraway’s “modest witness”: the very perception that inquiry involves standing back and letting events take their course, whether in the form of instruments and air pumps or social and political affairs, is a gendered and privileged way of organizing inquiry that allows some people and actions to recede from view to generate universality and objectivity, while others are branded as illegitimate because their presence jams the signal of objectivity.133 It would be similarly possible to pass through the quantum feminism of Barad to articulate that any observation—even the seemingly most technical and scientific—is an achievement that involves sociopolitical relations.134 And traveling back to the formation of quantum theory, along with its influence on theorists, including Dewey, it would also be possible to say that observing and acting are involved with each other. Observing is acting. Rather than assuming the position of nonengagement to achieve objectivity, Dewey (under the influence of Heisenberg) suggested that new modes of engagement should be deliberately sought to pursue the promise of instrumentalism and philosophy as action.135 Indeed, as West has pointed out, for Dewey this was a way to ensure “active engagement with the events and affairs of the world” that would contribute to “a worldly philosophy and a more philosophical world.”136
You might find that, when taking sensors into the open air, working to build community-monitoring networks, and grappling with environmental problems, resistance takes on an electropolitical oscillation. As communities diversely engage in environmental struggles, sensors enter into the fray as part of a process of inquiry and evidence making. Indeed, struggle is central to how these projects and practices unfold. Resistance will be encountered not just as a lesson in voltage but also as a response to citizen data, as a query about proper modes of research, and as questions about how or whether governments could be more accountable. Resistance will also be cultivated through processes of circumventing established ways of dealing with or overlooking environmental problems, gathering and presenting evidence consistently and insistently when it is ignored, and organizing meetings and listening sessions to make citizen observations of environmental problems matter. At the same time, it is important to account for how expertise differently manifests and how this informs citizen-sensing technologies and practices in the attempt to struggle with accounts of environmental pollution.
The label of activism suggests that the research has forgone its potential for legitimate inquiry. Yet, on the contrary, because the research is working with and through action and engagement, it is developing new capacities and open-air instrumentalities. Despite the marketing promises, sensors do not simply deliver transformed political engagements or environmental solutions. Sensors neither singularly empower people nor instantly transform them into activists. Instead, research and practice that are variously situated as collaborative or participatory demonstrate that engagements with environmental problems unfold through differential and complex political struggles. By undertaking practice-based and collaborative research, such “findings” become evident. This can also be a way to begin decolonizing research practices and rework the expert–citizen relations that colonial modes of research can fix into place.137
When working with communities in a participatory way, it is possible to learn about the multiple approaches to addressing environmental pollution, the friction and the discord, the diverse strategies for organizing, and the environmental encroachments that have been held at bay. It is also possible to better understand how collective politics materialize less as a singular pursuit of a goal and more as a working and reworking of instrumentalities: there is work to be done, but the doing of it causes new actions and relations to form. In this way, the political subjects—the instrumental and active citizens—that are constituted through these modes of action are in process. Drawing on the previous discussion of pragmatism, it would be possible to say that action is not the elision of conceptual reflection or development but rather its test and fulfillment. While in the pragmatists’ estimation, action is not to be pursued for action’s sake, it is also possible to ask what modes of action are underway and what experiences and worlds these would generate.
Activism is one way of parsing action in politics, and yet there is often disagreement about what does and does not count as activism. The how-to is also about modes of action and calls to action. This action can be parsed in many different ways: as action for action’s sake or as materialized ways of living. Modes of action are also shifting in response to present demands. Rather than that old Leninist question “What is to be done?,”138 a more usual question now starts with “How to . . . ?” For some, the question is simply a version of “How to make . . . ?” For others, the question is “How best to live on, considering?”139 This latter question, raised by Berlant, is an appropriate one to dwell on at this juncture in this text because this modality signals most clearly the struggle and resistance that can be embedded within or activated by the how-to.
The search for instructions, the following of procedures, the hopeful pursuit of an effective action or promised outcome: these are ways of looking for direction when potentially floundering on the shores of life. You might find that how-to is a mode of action that often starts in the imperative mood and follows an instrumental trajectory. But how-to is also a vector of transformation. It generates open-air instrumentalities and other ways of undertaking research as a collective project. Transformation, nevertheless, encounters resistance and requires struggle. Testing resistance, then, is an important way to keep your toolkits well tuned and ready for diverse modes of action, and even activism.
How to Retool Action
I am frequently asked whether Citizen Sense research is empowering people and communities through the participatory research undertaken using citizen-sensing technologies. The short answer is, not as directly as that. The medium answer is, it is best to query the uncomplicated connection between technology and empowerment. The long answer is, it might be advisable to review this how-to exploration, which seeks to trouble and retool how toolkits—and empowerment—constitute trajectories to action. Or, as Isabelle Stengers has suggested, it might also be possible to consider how to undertake the “empowerment of a situation,” which involves “giving a situation that gathers the power to force those who are gathered to think and invent.”140
Figure 1.12. Example of a logbook-based citizen contribution documenting an EPA mobile monitoring unit that undertakes periodic environmental monitoring. Participant contributions were returned by email and via SD cards mailed along with logbooks back to Citizen Sense. Photograph by anonymous participant; courtesy of Citizen Sense.
This chapter as how-to guide has explained how it might be possible to inhabit yet also to transform how these technologies operate through open-air instrumentalisms, and to seek out creative forms of misuse that challenge the assertion that technology made this happen or that Sensor = Outcome. In this way, it might also be possible to engage with and yet reorient the usual and primary attention away from how to make a sensor talk to a platform toward more open-ended engagements with these technologies. Such reorienting and retooling practices challenge the usual configurations of action—and empowerment. They also rework the political relations that are made possible. This is a way to retool toolkits and the action they would organize.
When using the term retool, I am inevitably drawing on work from feminist theory and technoscience to propose how to work against the grain of dominant technological narratives.141 Retooling is a practice honed through struggle: struggle with and against standard operating procedures. Retooling is a way to transform and invent technoscientific practices. It asks how toolkits as trajectories to action are identified, how they are operationalized, which subjects are drawn into their modes of action, which relations are configured, and which worlds are made and sustained. These questions of process and mechanism—the “how” of the how-to—are asked so that further engagement and working through of instruction and procedure might find the flex points for transformation.
While this text could have initially undertaken a survey of citizen-sensing and citizen-science toolkits to introduce this field of study, I have deliberately opted not to follow the categorical impulse but instead sought to examine the imperative mood and instrumental modes of action. Rather than pursue a definitional or taxonomic study of practices or toolkits, this text suggests that toolkits generate open-air instrumentalisms that transform possibilities for political engagement and action. Categories could only ever serve as a provisional way to understand these toolkits and practices.142 Indeed, the more-interesting toolkits incorporate contingency as a crucial part of how they provide resources for organizing action.
Many other toolkits, DIY projects, and community projects have traversed this space of instruction, contingency, action, and alternative engagement. From the Center for Urban Pedagogy’s “Making Policy Public” pamphlet series, which explains and guides publics through complex legal issues like housing and workers rights,143 to A Guidebook of Alternative Nows, which collects examples of alternative economies and engagement experiments,144 to Zach Blas’s manual for “queer technological strategy,”145 to the 3D Additivist Cookbook for cooking up alterna-tive inhabitations in troubling times,146 and the Detroit Community Technology Project guidebooks,147 a wide range of toolkits and guidebooks are experimenting with the form of the instructional and the imperative to work toward more democratic operating conditions.148
There are also very different ways of engaging with DIY and technology that can contribute to community projects of addressing environmental pollution and public health. Alondra Nelson has described how the Black Panther Party undertook projects in DIY community health activism that offered alternative means of mobilizing medical technology and political subjects in the interests of social justice.149 These practices offer distinct ways of transforming technologies and social relations. They make alternative worlds through attending to the political subjects and communities of inquiry involved in open-air instrumentalisms, where experimenting with the conditions and potential of altered technoscientific arrangements can also undo power structures that contribute to health inequalities.
The point of interrogating instrumentality in this way is to consider how citizen-sensing technologies could be described as instrumental in the limited sense: as merely functional and utensil-like. Politics, as scripted through these engagements, could also be seen to fall into the trap of a more reductive instrumentality. But as this chapter suggests, there is more to an understanding and practice of instruments and instrumentalities than might initially have been suspected. Instrumentalisms become prospective in the effects they generate and the relations they inform. They take shape in the open air, as open-air instrumentalisms. Instrumentalities generate new political inhabitations. The toolkit and the instructional are not necessarily expressive of the starkly functional or extractive form of instrumentality, because instruments develop through engaged and contingent practices. Instrumentalism involves setting in motion, operationalizing, and potentially transforming. Instruments—whether in the form of concepts or sensors—are instrumental to the unfolding, the doing, and the transforming, where other ways of living and other processes are articulated.
I have suggested here that “how to do things with sensors” is a project that moves from the imperative mood and reductive instrumentality to one that might generate more contingent open-air instrumentalisms, particularly in relation to citizen engagement with environmental monitoring technologies. This reworking of citizen-sensing technology and technical relations intends to counter the sinister veneer of Silicon Valley and the smug tyranny of the tech bro, where normativity, exclusion, and reductive technical relations contribute to unjust and undemocratic practices, relations, and worlds.
Once you start to look for instruments, you might find them everywhere: much like Haraway’s air pump, they are at work in-forming and re-constituting citizens and worlds. This guidebook suggests that it would be advisable to approach these instruments through the concept and practice of open-air instrumentalisms, where experimental approaches as well as new technical relations, modes of inquiry, forms of political engagement, environmental commitments, and ways of making breathable worlds might materialize.
In this sense, this chapter interrogates the diagram of citizen sensing as a mode of technological engagement that leads to specific political effects. Drawing on pragmatism, feminist technoscience, environmental justice, Black studies, and Indigenous theory, this how-to guide develops an approach to sensors where methods, practice, ideas, and theory are co-constituted, embodied, and re-tooled. To ask how to do things is to ask how to transform things. It is to inquire how to experience and influence worlds. Instruments and instrumentalities do not offer up guaranteed ends; rather, they unfold operations that are ways of engaging with ideas, technologies, relations, entities, environments, and worlds. Dewey referred to instruments as ideas capable of “organizing future observations and experiences” rather than “reporting and registering past experiences.” Instrumentalisms, in this sense, are propositional. If there is action to be undertaken, they are in some way focused on making action and change possible. This is an approach that focuses on “consequent phenomena” rather than historical facts, and is what Dewey would refer to as something “revolutionary in its consequences.”150
Here’s what you might have learned in the process of following these instructions: how-to is a proposition, not a rule. Its imperative mood is one of responsibility and even urgency more than command. How-to is an instrumental project, where meaning arises through contingent operations that make and remake breathable worlds. How-to enables open-air modes of inquiry, action, and conduct. How-to is experimental in its searching after ways to address problems. How-to demonstrates how distinct ideas and instrumental actions are tied to different communities of inquiry and possibilities for transforming and retooling action. While the how-to might initially seem to present straightforward instructions pointing toward guaranteed results, the how-to approach should necessarily engage with the pitfalls, deviations, and anti-triumphalism of undertaking citizen-sensing and environmental monitoring projects in concrete situations. Such a how-to toolkit, then, is productive of open-air instrumentalisms. It works within the genre of the how-to but also seeks to retool this narrative and trajectory toward action in order, as Berlant suggests, “to invent new genres for the kinds of speculative work we call theory.”151
In the chapters that follow, even more how-to practices proliferate. These instructions and procedures span from how to monitor pollution over time, to how to learn atmospheric chemistry, how to analyze data, how to construct evidence, how to ring a regulator, how to influence policy, how to organize a movement, how to remake environmental relations, and how to make more breathable worlds. Many more how-to inquiries beyond this unfold in the upcoming discussion, where citizen-sensing practices unfold in concrete situations to demonstrate how political subjects and relations materialize as uneven and yet lively formations of citizens and worlds.