Blockchain Papers

Anaïs Le Fèvre-Berthelot

The association between madness and the oppression of women is a trope of narratives focusing on women which can support a sexist or a feminist perspective —women’s psychological distress being either a proof of their inferiority or a result of their systematic oppression. Contemporary representations of female characters suffering from mental distress build on this tradition and play with it as they question the gender norms that tend to produce personality disorders. Such representations are also shaped by the society that produced them and, in this case, the emergence of “therapy culture” (Füredi 2004) may have political consequences for the meaning conveyed by the shows. Comparing Ally McBeal (Fox, 1997-2002) and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (The CW, 2015-2019) allows for an analysis that covers two decades and major social and economic evolutions to adopt a social and historical perspective on the representation of female characters suffering from mental health issues in US TV series. This chapter aims at comparing the two shows to see how the treatment of mental distress in female characters points to gender dynamics and how it can contribute to challenging the norm. It argues that there are broader issues of identity and social norms at stake in the representation of mental distress in female heroines.

Yathukulan Yogarajah

People within the cryptocurrency world come together on imageboards and forums to tell stories about the highly volatile and uncertain world they inhabit. Although they engage with a highly technical digital money form, the stories they share online could be more productively analysed as digital folklore. Through ethnography primarily conducted via 4chan and Reddit, I highlight three types of stories, loosely grouped together within the categories of ‘despair’, ‘comedy’ and ‘courage’. Drawing parallels to folk and fairy tales, I explore how ‘netizens’ use these stories to engage with the uncertainty that characterizes cryptocurrencies. Consequently, I highlight how stories come to make the online cryptocurrency world more inhabitable, as well as allowing people to subvert and resist ‘economic reason’. By foregrounding storytelling, I highlight the fluid, intersubjective and collective actions that help to sustain a volatile and uncertain market that is favourable for those who take to online message boards.

Mona Schubert

How do feminist activists take over our feeds? And can we really escape the shadows of networked visibility? In a series of five case studies, this text and video-based _Perspective applies the method of visual research to analyze and cross-pollinate visual formulas and platform strategies of Pussy Riot’s and LASTESIS’ networked performances. What started as a social media revolution in 2012 has now spread into the realm of cryptocurrencies and Web3 advances. Formerly situated feminist protests become more and more decentralized and ubiquitory—and so do their audiences. Nonetheless, catering to the demands of networked imagery also entails perpetuating its hegemonic, exploitative, and violent nature, which is ultimately at the hands of the viewer’s and researcher’s interaction.

George Ritzer, Petar Jandrić, Sarah Hayes

In the year that George Ritzer publishes the ninth edition of The McDonaldization of Society, moving his famous theory firmly Into the Digital Age, critical educator Petar Jandrić and sociologist Sarah Hayes invited George to a dialogue on the digital transformation of McDonaldization and its critical application to Higher Education. In this article, George first traces for us the origins of his theory that has endured for four decades. A key dimension of McDonaldization is the ‘iron cage’ of control, via rationalization. Once contained within physical sites of bricks and mortar, now, we encounter a ‘velvet cage’ in sites of digital consumption, at the hands of non-human technologies, that threaten human labor and autonomy. Whilst the concept of the McUniversity is not without some critique, this interview provides compelling reasons to open new dialogue about McDonaldization in augmented settings such as Higher Education. With the rise of prosuming machines such as blockchain and bitcoin, that can both produce and consume without intervention from human ‘prosumers’, universities cannot afford to ignore the challenges of prosumer capitalism, which George concludes, will explode into unprecedented and unpredictable directions in the years to come.

Jean‐Philippe Vergne, Gautam Swain

Bitcoin is difficult to categorize and indeed has been associated with 112 different labels in the British media (e.g., “private money,” “commodity”) – most of which poorly describe bitcoin. Specifically, our analyses of 674 media articles, focusing on the relationship between labeling and categorization, identify classification inconsistencies at three levels: within clusters of labels, between labels and categories, and between category attributes. These inconsistencies hamper categorization based on attribute similarity, audience goals, and causal models, respectively. We identify four factors that nurture this categorical anarchy and conclude with a call for research on the socioeconomic revolution heralded by blockchain technology.

B. J. Carr

From a historical perspective, the multiverse is just one more step in our progress from geocentric to heliocentric to galactocentric to cosmocentric worldview. Indeed, several lessons of relevance to the multiverse debate can be gleaned from considering the history of this progression. To the ancient Greeks, the heavenly spheres were the unchanging domain of the divine and therefore outside science by definition. It required Tycho de Brahe's observation of a supernova in 1572 and the realization that its apparent position did not change as the Earth moved around the Sun to dash that view. Because this contradicted the Aristotelian view that the heavens cannot change, the claim was at first received sceptically. Frustrated by those who had eyes but would not see, Brahe wrote: “O crassa ingenia. O coecos coeli spectators.” (Oh thick wits. Oh blind watchers of the sky.) Lesson 1: Theoretical prejudice should not blind one to the evidence. Of course, we will never see the other universes themselves — in that sense we are necessarily blind, so this point might seem irrelevant to the multiverse. However, I would claim that the analogue of Tycho's supernova is the fine-tunings. Long after Galileo had speculated that the Milky Way consists of stars like the Sun and Newton had shown the laws of Nature could be extended beyond the solar system, there was still a prejudice that the investigation of this region was beyond the domain of science. In 1842 August Comte said of the study of stars: “Never, by any means, will we be able to study their chemical compositions. The field of positive philosophy lies entirely within the Solar System, the study of the universe being inaccessible in any possible science.” Comte had not foreseen the advent of spectroscopy, which identified absorption features in stellar spectra with chemical elements. Lesson 2: New observational developments are hard to anticipate. Perhaps we will find extra dimensions at the Large Hadron Collider or even create baby universes in the laboratory one day. Cosmology attained the status of a proper science in 1915, when the advent of general relativity gave it a secure mathematical basis. Nevertheless, for a further decade there was resistance to the idea that science could be extended beyond our galaxy. Indeed many astronomers refused to believe that there was anything beyond. Although Kant had speculated as early as 1755 that some nebulae are “island universes” similar to the Milky Way, most astronomers continued to adopt a galactocentric view until the 1920s. Indeed, the most popular model of the galaxy at the start of the 20th century — Kapteyn's Universe — even had the Sun at its centre! The controversy came to a head in 1920 when Heber Curtis defended the island universe theory in a famous debate with Harlow Shapley. The issue was finally resolved in 1924, when Edwin Hubble measured the distance to M31 using Cepheid variable stars. In many ways this parallels the current debate about whether anything exists beyond our horizon. Lesson 3: More conservative cosmologists might prefer to maintain the cosmocentric view but perhaps the tide of history is against them. The evidence for other universes can never be as decisive as that for extragalactic nebulae but the transformation of worldview required may be just as necessary. A few years later Hubble obtained radial velocities and distance estimates for several dozen nearby galaxies, thereby discovering that all galaxies are moving away from us with a speed proportional to their distance. The most natural interpretation of this is that space itself is expanding, as indeed had been predicted by Alexander Friedmann in 1920 on the basis of general relativity. Einstein rejected this model at the time because he believed the universe (i.e. the Milky Way) was static and he even introduced an extra repulsive term into his equations — the cosmological constant — to allow this possibility. After Hubble's discovery, he described this as his “biggest blunder”. Lesson 4: One should not necessarily reject theoretical predictions because they have no observational support. In fact, Einstein continued to uphold the static model even after the evidence was against it — he only accepted the Friedmann model in 1931, several years after Hubble published his data — so knowing how much weight to attach to theory and observation can be tricky. Let me now address George's specific issues. There are plausibly galaxies just beyond the visual horizon, where we cannot see them, so we can extend this argument, step by step, to way beyond the horizon and infer there are many different universes that we cannot see. Even though we can never prove what happens outside our visual horizon, the standard FRW model has been well tested within it, so there is surely some probabilistic sense in which one can extrapolate models at least some way beyond it. Also the smooth dependence of the CMB fluctuations on angular separation (whatever the source of those fluctuations) gives no reason to suppose that anything strange happens just beyond the horizon. George himself seems to accept this, which illustrates the problem of regarding speculations as non-scientific just because they involve the unobservable. Admittedly one's confidence in any proposed model must decrease as one extrapolates ever further beyond the horizon, but one should beware of using Rees's slippery slope argument in reverse: we cannot extrapolate to scales much larger than the horizon, so we should not extrapolate to scales only slightly outside it. The problem comes when one makes the jump from the Level I to Level II multiverse (which is where George's argument that the FRW solution extends everywhere must fail). In fact, the inflationary scenario does provide an answer to this. For if the amplitude of the density fluctuations increases slightly with scale (as appears to be the case), one can predict the scale at which the FRW approximation breaks down. Current data suggest that this happens at around 10100 horizon scales. The existence of a multiverse is implied by inflation, which is verified by the CMB anisotropy observations. In particular, known physics leads to chaotic inflation and this implies a multiverse. There are two distinct issues here: does one believe in inflation and does inflation lead to a multiverse? Inflation is attractive because it resolves several cosmological conundra. Quantum fluctuations of the scalar field can also generate the small density perturbations that eventually give rise to galaxies and large-scale structure and it is impressive that the predicted dependence of the CMB fluctuations on angular separation is almost exactly as observed by the WMAP satellite (Spergel et al. 2003). Of course, the evidence for inflation is not conclusive — there is still no evidence for any scalar field in Nature!— but the Level I multiverse is still a good bet. As regards the second issue, I agree with George that the evidence for the sort of chaotic inflation that leads to a Level II multiverse is more equivocal, and certainly one cannot infer this from the form of the CMB anisotropies. There are now around 100 models of inflation and, while Linde (1990) claims that the existence of other domains with different coupling constants is generic, this is debatable. The multiverse idea is testable, because it can be disproved if we determine there are closed spatial sections in the universe (for example, if the curvature is positive). This is really a straw man argument because we have seen that inflation is only one of several multiverse proposals — for example, quantum cosmology models give closed spatial sections — and not all inflationary models require that the spatial sections be open anyway. However, George is surely right to stress the importance of looking for circles in the CMB. The idea of small universes is not mainstream but it has the advantage that it can be tested. The existence of a multiverse is the only physical explanation for the fine-tuning of parameters that leads to our existence. In the absence of direct evidence for other universes, I regard the anthropic fine-tunings as the best indirect evidence. (A multiverse in which the constants were the same everywhere would have no explanatory value.) I agree with George that the fine-tunings do not constitute proof, but they still carry weight. One can argue about how impressive the fine-tunings are (could we really exclude life if the constants changed a lot?), but I still think the number and precision of the tunings is remarkable. Nearly 30 years ago I wrote a review with Martin Rees about these fine-tunings (Carr and Rees 1979). In the intervening period a few of them have gone away (e.g. inflation may explain the value of the cosmological density parameter) but most of them have got stronger. Without a multiverse one may be forced to adopt a non-physical explanation like a fine-tuner, which is why Neil Manson (2003) claims that “the multiverse is the last resort of the desperate atheist”. This is not necessarily true — Paul Davies (2006) advocates a “third way” in which the laws of Nature evolve in a single universe in such a way that life can arise — but if you reject the multiverse, you certainly lower the scientific status of the anthropic arguments. I agree with George's argument against physical infinities. However, we do not need an infinity to validate the anthropic principle — just a large number. The existence of a multiverse is implied by a probability argument: the universe is no more special than it need be to create life. In particular, the small value of the cosmological constant shows that other universes exist. George argues that multiverse theories are not useful because they cannot be disproved: if all possibilities exist somewhere, then they can explain all conceivable observations. However, the fact that we only observe one sample of the multiverse still allows the proposal to be refuted at a given confidence level. Statistical predictions still qualify as science and that is why Rees has stressed the importance of calculating the probability distribution for various parameters across the universes. Indeed, a core difference between the Bayesian and frequentist views is the former's willingness to make inferences from single, and possibly unrepeatable, pieces of data. George rejects the Λ argument but there is no doubt that this has been very influential in attracting many physicists to the multiverse cause. It used to be thought that Λ was exactly zero and it was then plausible that there might be some physical (non-anthropic) explanation for this. However, the fact that Λ is non-zero but very tiny is a profound mystery that completely changes the situation. Critics say that we cannot know what distribution for Λ is predicted across the multiverse and that is correct. It may be simplistic to assume that the distribution is uniform, but postulating that there is a spike in precisely the observed region is just as improbable as what we are trying to explain. Even if one does not accept inflation, multi-verses are predicted by many theories of particle physics. It is still legitimate to invoke the existence of other universes for which there can be no direct evidence if one has a theory (like M-theory) that predicts this. It is not necessary to check all predictions of the theory for it to be considered scientific (e.g. we cannot probe inside black holes and we cannot see quarks but we still regard these as subjects for scientific discourse); it is only necessary to test some of them. Does M-theory qualify in this respect? George claims no; it does not come under the purview of science because our confidence in it is based on faith and aesthetic considerations (mathematical beauty etc) rather than experimental data. Certainly he is not alone in this attitude. For example, Woit (2006) and Smolin (2007) dismiss M-theory as mathematics rather than physics because it has not made contact with observations after 20 years. However, I feel this rejection is premature. It may take 200 years to solve the equations of M-theory and test them, but the definition of what constitutes a scientific question should not depend on how difficult it is. The nature of science changes, so what is illegitimate science today may be legitimate tomorrow. The fundamental issue in the dispute between myself and George concerns which features of science are to be regarded as sacrosanct. Experimentation used to be regarded as sacrosanct but by that criterion all of astronomy would be excluded since one cannot experiment with stars and galaxies. Fortunately, one can still make observations and — since there are billions of these objects — Nature effectively performs experiments for us. Cosmologists are in worse shape because there is only one universe to observe and speculations about processes at very early and very late times have to be viewed as ultra-speculative. For this reason, more conservative physicists regard even relatively standard cosmological speculations as trespassing into metaphysics. George places a lot of emphasis on falsifiability, but not everybody in the philosophy of science agrees with Popper on this and it is surely dangerous to impose a philosophical prescription that prevents scientists changing the border of their field. As Susskind cautions, it would be a pity to miss out on some fundamental truth because of an over-restrictive definition of science. Of course, one needs some degree of falsifiability, but the question is, how much? It is certainly not fair to put M-theory in the same class as astrology. On the other hand, I share George's scepticism of the Level IV multiverse, which corresponds to universes governed by different mathematical structures. The view that any mathematically possible universe must exist somewhere seems untestable in a deeper sense than Levels I to III. The notion of a multiverse entails a new perspective of the nature of science and it is not surprising that this causes intellectual discomfort. But this situation has often occurred before and one should not be surprised if it happens again. The Cosmic Uroborus in figure 2 shows that the history of physics might be regarded as the extension of knowledge into ever smaller and ever larger scales. The ideas encountered at the two frontiers have often been viewed as part of philosophy rather than science, so in a sense the debate is nothing new. However, there is another sense in which the current situation is very special. This is because — for the first time — the boundaries at the largest and smallest scales have connected, as indicated by the top of the Cosmic Uroborus, so the two science/philosophy frontiers have merged. Does this merging represent the completion of science or merely the sort of transformation in the perceived nature of science that accompanies every paradigm shift? This is a contentious issue and clearly we do not yet know the answer. I accept that there may eventually be a limit to the sort of questions that science can address; George and I merely disagree on whether we have reached that limit with the multiverse. In any case, we are surely behoven to try to take science as far as possible. I will end with a comment by Steven Weinberg (2007) in his contribution to Universe or Multiverse?: “We usually mark advances in the history of science by what we learn about Nature, but at certain critical moments the most important thing is what we discover about science itself. These discoveries lead to changes in how we score our work, in what we consider to be an acceptable theory.”

George Ellis

The very nature of the scientific enterprise is at stake in the multiverse debate. Its advocates propose weakening the nature of scientific proof in order to claim that the multiverse hypothesis provides a scientific explanation. This is a dangerous tactic. Two central scientific virtues are testability and explanatory power. In the cosmological context, these are often in conflict with each other and there has been an increasing tendency in theoretical physics and cosmology to say it does not matter whether a proposal is testable: if it fits into our other theories in a convincing way, with great explanatory power, then testing is superfluous. The extreme case is the multiverse proposal, where no direct observational test of the hypothesis is possible. Despite this, many articles and books dogmatically proclaim that the multiverse is an established scientific fact. In this context one must re-evaluate what the core of science is: can one maintain one has a genuine scientific theory when direct and indeed indirect tests of the theory are impossible? If one claims this, one is altering the meaning of science. One should be very careful before so doing. There are many other theories waiting in the wings, hoping for a weakening of what is meant by “science”. Those proposing this weakening in the case of cosmology should be aware of the flood of alternative scientific theories whose advocates will then state that they too can claim the mantle of scientific respectability. The key observational point is that the domains considered are beyond the visual horizon and are therefore unobservable. You cannot receive signals of any kind from beyond the horizon, as there has not been time for messages to reach us from there since the universe began. Hence no object out there is detectable by any kind of astronomical observation. To see this clearly one should look at the space-time diagrams of our past light cone (figure 5). The assumption made in justifying the multiverse is that we can extrapolate to 10100 times the horizon distance or even more (the word “infinity” is casually used in these writings). The extraordinary pretentiousness of this attempt should be clear. This shows the space-time diagrams of our past light cone in both the usual form (a) and conformal form (b), in which one expands the spatial distances in order to see the causal structure. The light cones are then at ±45°, making clear the observational and causal limits; any observation beyond the visual horizon is impossible. The Hubble distance is where galaxies recede at the speed of light (v=c). The redshift measures the expansion factor and goes to infinity at the horizon itself. (c) shows more clearly the vast extrapolation envisaged in justifications of the multiverse. Note that there is a distinction betweeen the visual horizon and the event horizon. The latter relates to causality in the far distant future and is irrelevant to present-day observations, but becomes relevant if the universe accelerates. (Mark Whittle, University of Virginia) The often claimed existence of physical infinities in the multiverse context — of either universes or spatial sections of universes (Vilenkin 2006) — is dubious. What has been forgotten here is that infinity is an unattainable state rather than a large number — its character is totally different from any finite number and it is a mathematical rather than physical entity. According to David Hilbert (1964): “The infinite is nowhere to be found in reality, no matter what experiences, observations, and knowledge are appealed to.” Even if there were an infinite number of galaxies, and we could see them all (which we could not), we could not count them in a finite time. So there is no way the existence of an infinity can ever be proven correct by observation or any other test. The concept of physical infinities is not a scientific one if science involves testability by either observation or experiment. The claim of infinites in the multiverse context emphasizes how tenuously scientific that idea is. It is a huge act of hubris to extrapolate from one small domain to infinity when infinity is never attainable. Seven different kinds of justification have been proposed for the existence of a multiverse and I will now consider these in turn. There are plausibly galaxies just beyond the visual horizon, where we cannot see them, so we can extend this argument, step by step, to way beyond the horizon and infer there are many different universes that we cannot see. This is the “slippery slope” argument and Rees (2001) uses it to defend both Level I and Level II multiverses. The argument is fine as regards extrapolation in the vicinity of the visual horizon, but the assumption that it can be continued to very distant domains or other universes is an untestable major extrapolation, which assumes a continuity that may or may not be true. If each link in a chain of evidence is well understood and tenable, then indirect evidence such as this carries nearly as much weight as direct evidence. But not all the links in the chain are tenable. If employed to its logical conclusion it seems a priori to lead to the old idea of spatial homogeneity extending forever (“The Cosmological Principle”) rather than the multiverse of chaotic cosmology with domain walls separating different phases. For if the universe within the horizon is almost exactly Friedmann-Robertson-Walker (FRW) — a statistically spatially homogenous and isotropic space-time — it is plausible that it is also FRW just outside the horizon, and a simple extrapolation suggests that it is spatially homogeneous without limit. But supporters of chaotic inflation claim that there are completely different domains out there with different values of the constants, so which is the case? You can say what you like and nobody can prove it right or wrong. The existence of a multiverse is implied by inflation, which is verified by the Cosmic Microwave Background anisotropy observations. In particular, known physics leads to chaotic inflation and this implies a multiverse. A multiverse is implied by some forms of inflation but not others. Inflation is not yet a well defined theory and chaotic inflation is just one variant of it. For example, inflation in a small closed universe fits all the observations, without requiring a multiverse. In any case, the key physics involved in chaotic inflation (Coleman-de Luccia tunnelling) is extrapolated from known and tested physics to quite different regimes; that extrapolation is unverified and indeed unverifiable. The physics is hypothetical rather than tested. We are being told that what we have is “known physics → multiverse”. But the real situation is “known physics → hypothetical physics → multiverse” and the first step involves a major extrapolation which may or may not be correct. The multiverse idea is testable, because it can be disproved if we determine there are closed spatial sections in the universe (for example, if the curvature is positive). The claim is that only negatively curved FRW models can exist in a multiverse based on chaotic inflation, either because Coleman-de Luccia tunnelling only gives negative curvature or because a closed spatial section necessarily implies a single universe. But the first argument is disputed (there are already papers suggesting that tunnelling to positively curved universes is possible) and the second argument would not apply if we lived in a high-density lump imbedded in a low-density universe (i.e. the extrapolation of positive curvature to very large scales may not be valid). Neither argument is conclusive. Certainly observational confirmation of negatively curved space sections would not constitute proof of a multiverse, for that can occur in a single universe. However, chaotic inflation versions of the multiverse can be disproved if we observationally prove that we live in a universe with closed spatial sections that are so small that we have already seen round the universe. We can test this possibility by searching for identical circles in the CMB, together with low anisotropy power at large angular scales (which is indeed observed). This is an important test as it would disprove the chaotic inflation variety of multiverse. But not seeing the circles would not prove a multiverse exists: their non-detection is a necessary but not sufficient condition for multiverses. The existence of a multiverse is the only physical explanation for the fine-tuning of parameters that leads to our existence. The multiverse is a reasonable theoretical explanation of the fine-tunings, but this does not help in observationally confirming the hypothesis. The issue here is, which is more important in cosmology: theory (explanation) or observations (tests against reality)? The essential proposal is that one should downgrade observational testing in favour of theory — a dangerous road to take. In any case, the major problem with this proposal is that it can explain anything at all, because in a multiverse with an infinite or extremely large variety of universe properties — for example, the 10500 possibilities allowed by the landscape of string theory — virtually anything can happen. In that case, the hypothesis does not predict any specific testable fact. The existence of universes with giraffes is certainly predicted by many multiverse proposals, but universes where giraffes do not exist are also predicted. Observing a giraffe neither confirms nor disproves the multiverse. The existence of a multiverse is implied by a probability argument: the universe is no more special than it need be to create life. In particular, the small value of the cosmological constant shows that other universes exist. But the statistical argument invoked here only applies if a multiverse exists; it is simply inapplicable (because the probability distribution has no meaning) if there is no multiverse, so it cannot prove a multiverse exists. It is a calculation that assumes the answer (that a multiverse exists) before it begins. If we only have one object to observe, we can make many observations of that object, but it is still only one object (one universe), and you cannot do statistical tests on its nature. This is a consistency test if there is indeed a multiverse, but it says nothing if there is not. It is not a sufficient condition for its existence. The argument that the actual value of Λ is extremely different from the “natural” one predicted by theoretical physics (120 orders of magnitude smaller!) makes very clear the nature of the multiverse project: it is an attempt to make the extremely improbable appear probable. Even if one does not accept inflation, multiverses are predicted by many theories of particle physics. One example of this is the string landscape of M-theory, but that is a hypothetical proposal with no solid evidence in its favour. Indeed, even many string theorists are sceptical about the landscape, despite the enthusiasm with which some propose it. A major problem arises when one has a theory where no verification is possible. It is not necessary to check all the predictions of a theory for it to be considered scientific — one can check some predictions to help the theory gain credence, but that does not prove the theory because it has to be the only one that makes the prediction for it to carry weight; it cannot be conclusive unless no other explanation is possible Let me illustrate with an example. I can propose that there are leopards hidden in the mountains of Scotland. They are very shy, so they hide away and no-one ever sees them. But you can tell they are there because sheep vanish without trace every year. I can put together an exciting research project that will look at statistics of lost sheep in Scotland for the past 50 years, and hence prove the existence of these rare mountain leopards. This seems to me to be analogous to the argument for proof of the existence of a multiverse through any specific property (e.g. the smallness of Λ) that might possibly exist somewhere in the landscape. This may be something that is predicted by some multiverse theory, but it hardly proves it true. I am all for the exercise of applying known physics in more extreme conditions: do it and see what happens. But admit that it is an untested extrapolation and that different extrapolations are possible. You can extrapolate different aspects of known physics to the unknown and different predictions will result. For example, if one extrapolates classical physics to the quantum domain, the answers will be wrong. But in that case you can show this is so by experimental tests. That is what is missing in the multiverse case: you can make the extrapolation but cannot then determine if it is right or not. The nature of science changes, so what is illegitimate science today may be legitimate tomorrow. This is true, but the foundations must be respected if one is to preserve the core features of science that have led to its phenomenal success: that is the feedback from reality to theory provided by experiment and observational testing. One abandons that at one's peril. For example, today's philosophical definition of science excludes astrology, despite all the claimed theory and data supporting it. But now astrologers can take hope from the arguments of string theorists and multiverse enthusiasts: with the weakened kinds of criteria proposed, astrology too will soon be a strong candidate for recognition as a genuine science. The Popperazi (a derogatory term used by Susskind for those who believe testing scientific theories is an indispensible aspect of science) will no longer be able to deny astrology its place as a proper scientific theory. Is that what we really want? At the very least, we must be given a clear statement as to what broader definition of the nature of science is being proposed, and in particular what criteria of testing will be taken to be adequate (Ellis 2006); this then needs to be assessed in relation to cases such as astrology and “intelligent design”, as well as multiverses and string theory, in order to see what its implications are. The multiverse idea is provable neither by observation, nor as an implication of well established physics. It may be true, but it cannot be shown to be true. It does have great explanatory power — it provides an empirically based rationalization for fine tuning, developed from known physical principles — but one must distinguish between explanation and prediction. Successful scientific theories make predictions that can be tested. The multiverse theory cannot make any testable predictions because it can explain anything at all. Even though multiverse proposals are good empirically based philosophical proposals for the nature of what exists, they are not strictly within the domain of science. There is nothing wrong with empirically based philosophical explanation — indeed it is of great value provided it is labelled for what it is — but I suggest that cosmologists should be very careful not to make methodological proposals that erode the essential nature of science in their enthusiasm to support specific theories. For if they do so, there will very likely be unintended consequences in other areas where the boundaries of science are in dispute. Let me state it more strongly: it is dangerous to weaken the grounds of scientific proof in order to include multiverses under the mantle of “tested science”. It is a retrograde step towards the claim that we can establish the nature of the universe by pure thought without having to confirm our theories by observational or experimental tests. This abandons the key principle that has led to the extraordinary success of science. The claim that multiverses exist is a belief rather than an established scientific fact. It is a reasonable belief with strong explanatory nature, but a belief nonetheless. The appropriate statement we can make is not “multiverses exist” or “multiverses have been proved to exist” or even “multiverses can be proved to exist”, but rather “multiverses are a useful explanatory hypothesis”. We should not state more. Martin Gardner (2003) puts it this way: “There is not the slightest shred of reliable evidence that there is any universe other than the one we are in. No multiverse theory has so far provided a prediction that can be tested. As far as we can tell, universes are not as plentiful as even two blackberries.”

B. Balamurugan, T. Poongodi, M. R. Manu, S. Karthikeyan · 5 authors

The moving image archive of the US Agency for International Development (USAID) includes a copy of the film The Double Day (1975), cataloged in the series Moving Images Relating to International Development Programs and Activities, 1979–1991, a collection of more than eight hundred titles “created to provide information on assistance programs supported by the Agency for International Development (AID).”1 Yet, The Double Day does not, in fact, directly depict or engage with any specific development or aid initiative. Instead, the film—directed by US-based Brazilian filmmaker Helena Solberg as part of the International Women’s Film Project collective and described as “the first Latin American feminist documentary”—examines the gendered dynamics of paid and unpaid labor through the testimonies of women from Argentina, Bolivia, Venezuela, and Mexico.2 Its presence in the USAID archive is likely a consequence of its funding history, having received support from the Inter-American Foundation, a USAID-affiliated entity; the development agencies of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden; the United Nations Development Program; and US philanthropist Calvin Cafritz.3These transnational funding structures not only enabled the film’s production but also determined its archival destination, which renders legible its place within the history of international development.4 The Double Day’s institutional trajectory reflects the shifting configurations of aid, gender, and media during a historic moment when women were being repositioned at the center of what Arturo Escobar has described as development’s “regimes of visuality.”5 Especially relevant to The Double Day’s production and exhibition was the international institutional framework of Women in Development (WID). Emerging in the early 1970s and culminating in United Nations’ proclamation of 1975 as International Women’s Year, WID emphasized women’s participation in the global economy as both an index and mechanism of development. Indeed, The Double Day premiered at the World Conference of the International Women’s Year, held in Mexico City.6 Within this context, the film forms part of a broader trajectory of media use by international organizations that intensified during the 1970s—as best exemplified by Media Habitat, a collection of 236 documentary films commissioned by the United Nations to represent urban and rural development initiatives for the 1976 Habitat Conference on Human Settlements in Vancouver. As a policy-shaping initiative, Media Habitat primarily featured films from the Global South intended not only to illustrate but also to help codify standardized audiovisual markers of “underdevelopment” that determined access to the emerging global economic order and to international aid.7Framed in relation to these international institutions and their operations, The Double Day could similarly be considered “development media”—exemplifying the type of nonfiction media produced and distributed outside of the commercial film circuits whose aspects and subcategories have been variously described in scholarship as nontheatrical, useful, sponsored, institutional, industrial, educational, or nonprofessional/amateur.8 Scholars working in this area have emphasized the institutional contexts of such media’s production and exhibition infrastructures as shaping its instrumentalized effects. From a feminist perspective, such an approach is crucial to grappling with the broader question of how “gender impacts [these works’] shape, content, and trajectories.”9 Yet we also argue that, taken in isolation, the institutional and infrastructural contexts are insufficient to account for the complex relationship between media and development, potentially not only limiting our understanding of the reach and impact of development but also distorting our interpretive conclusions. For example, to categorize The Double Day as “development media” is to overlook the film’s place within Solberg’s directorial oeuvre, as well as within the histories of both transnational women’s filmmaking and radical Latin American documentary cinema to which it simultaneously belongs. Such exclusive framing is especially limiting given that women globally were disproportionately engaged in nonfiction production throughout the twentieth century—sometimes by political choice but more often due to structural exclusions from fiction filmmaking. Even in nonfiction historiography, however, institutional media has remained particularly marginal, reinforcing hierarchies that separate such works from the aesthetic and authorial frameworks through which film history has been constructed.10 This marginalization not only tends to erase women’s contributions but also presumes a “weak” or derivative authorship, rendering these films unworthy of the interpretive attention needed to apprehend their aesthetic and political complexity.11 The same dynamic is likely to structure assumptions about “development media” as well.Categorizing The Double Day exclusively within this category would further prompt us to assume top-down institutional analyses that have been characteristic of both institutional media methodologies and the scholarship on development at large. This, in turn, would risk obscuring this film’s radical Marxist approach to women’s labor as well as its concrete contribution to activism and its attendant grassroot structures. In Mexico City, The Double Day became a catalyst for feminist solidarity in practice when one of the film’s protagonists, Bolivian activist and trade unionist Domitila Barrios de Chungara, was invited to participate in the Tribune of Non-Governmental Organizations held alongside the official UN conference.12 There, Barrios de Chungara challenged Western feminist priorities by reframing the debate around labor, class, and imperialism, helping to articulate a shared Third World feminist agenda that significantly departed from the developmentalist vision of the United Nations and USAID.13 Seen through the lens of activist media, The Double Day helped forge transnational solidarity networks by enabling information exchange across the diverse voices that shaped its making—from the women featured in the film to the activists who circulated it—revealing a considerably more dynamic interplay between institutional and grassroots or contingent media practices.Moreover, the film’s Latin American context—reflected in Solberg’s formation in Brazil as the only woman in Cinema Novo, its focus on women from across the region, and its premiere and key reception in Mexico City—requires grappling with the regional specificities of the very notion of development in its multiple iterations.14 Far from being an epistemological and political framework imposed solely by the Global North, both the practices of development and the theoretical foundations of developmentalism (understood as a broad and polysemic set of discourses) were shaped through the active participation of Latin American economists.15 Within this iteration, underdevelopment, as a constitutive notion of developmentalism, became central to a distinctly critical strand, which by the late 1960s became known as the dependency theory.16 This same approach is reflected in some of the best-known Latin American radical film manifestos of the time, arising precisely from the same milieus to which Solberg belonged.17These various considerations of the film’s history illustrate the methodological challenges confronting feminist scholars seeking to assess the impact of development on media projects, theories, and practices. To disregard the developmentalist context of such works by emphasizing their political aesthetics and affects risks reproducing a romanticized narrative of heroic resistance (albeit from a feminist perspective). Yet to engage exclusively with their institutional and material infrastructures risks naturalizing developmentalism’s political and epistemological foundations at the expense of the goals and beliefs of the many women who participated in these projects. The contradictions and ambivalences that animate such histories call for feminist frameworks capable of holding both institutional complicity and radical possibility in view.This challenge resonates with ongoing debates about the politics of the archive and what Allyson Field has termed “the practice of informed speculation.”18 As she reminds us, feminist, queer, and decolonial methodologies have long taught us to “press at the limits” of the archive to “inoculate our scholarship against our evidence’s afflictions.”19 The concern that the evidence we draw on in our analysis reproduces the very structures and blind spots of the dominant ideology and therefore shapes and delimits our interpretation becomes particularly urgent when engaging the developmentalist media corpus. Informed speculation offers an alternative by inviting the experimental, creative, and speculative rewriting of history, mobilizing the archive “in a project that runs counter to the original purpose, or the imperative to preserve, or the conditions that led to erasure.”20 Yet, as Field cautions, such speculative gestures must remain grounded in a deep and “intimate familiarity with the archive” that we are working with and against. Building on this imperative, we suggest that the developmentalist archive, in particular, demands expansion and critical reconsideration in ways that unsettle the very disciplinary frameworks through which it has been studied as well as the larger institutional contexts for such knowledge production.Our focus on The Double Day in the opening of this introduction thus foregrounds the entanglements of institutional and grassroots forces, local and international contexts, structural and interpersonal relations, and creative and economic factors that have shaped not only this film but the broader ecosystem of development media projects—and their preservation—over time. Addressing such a constellation involves transgressing methodologically entrenched divisions between political economy and aesthetics, between material infrastructures and affective regimes; reckoning with divergent periodizations across film history and world economics; and situating these within the local specificities of women’s movements and international institutional programs. It also demands attentiveness to the coexistence of multiple, and sometimes competing, understandings of development—each historically, geographically, and ideologically situated.We imagine this special issue as an opening toward a critical dialogue, not only about how such an approach might be enacted in practice but also about the far-reaching ways development paradigms have shaped both our objects of study and the contours of the field itself. The decision to center institutionally sponsored films across all the essays in this issue is deliberate and enables us to highlight institutional critique as a vital methodological imperative within our analytical framework. Created within the frameworks of international organizations, state agencies, or NGOs, these films’ histories make legible the institutional logics that underwrite their production. Yet our critique does not stop at these specific entities. Rather, we argue for a broader interrogation of the political conditions and institutional infrastructures that shape media and knowledge production more generally. This includes contemporary corporations embedded in the digital platform economy, from streaming services to the rapid expansion of AI. Equally critical is a reflexive examination of academia itself, where departments of economics, political science, and centers for development have played a formative role in producing and legitimizing developmentalist theories and policy frameworks. While the humanities and arts have at times offered critical alternatives, they have also frequently mirrored and reinforced many of the same developmentalist assumptions. A feminist analysis of the nexus between development and media must therefore unsettle not only dominant archives but also the institutional and disciplinary foundations of our own scholarly practices.As scholars, we share the complex position of navigating the same tensions between institutional complicity and emancipatory aspiration as many of the media-makers whose work we study. Mirroring our subjects is also the transnational, collective mode of this special issue’s own production as it emerges from an ongoing informal working group we have sustained over several years. While relying on institutional and disciplinary affordances—such as university funding for conferences or access to academic publishing platforms—we have been working toward creating a community that exceeds, and often resists, the prevailing logics of our academic institutions. Our aim has been to create a space for shared inquiry and mutual support that pushes back against disciplinary siloing and technocratic neoliberal assessment modes of both labor and knowledge production—and this certainly extends to our experience collaborating with the journal editors throughout the publication process. Our goal has been to examine both the persistence and variability of developmentalism, understood as what Gustavo Esteva calls a “powerful but fragile semantic constellation,” as a conceptual formation that has historically inspired, legitimized, and mobilized media projects across Asia, Africa, and Latin America.21 And gendered biopolitics, from population control to gender mainstreaming, have remained integral to development policies and media practices, recurring across formats from institutional newsreels to film festivals.We share the conviction that, far beyond the history of nonfiction institutional media, development (as both a broad ideological project and a network of material and institutional practices) and developmentalism (as a set of discourses and theoretical models associated with development) have exerted a far-reaching influence on film and media cultures at large. As such, they must be treated as a major force in shaping global film and media systems and also the many ongoing assumptions behind their critical discourses. The discipline of communication studies was founded on modernization theory governed by Cold War goals of dissemination of Western liberal democracy around the world, while “an area studies framework allowed compartmentalizing Western and non-Western outcomes of technologies that were always claimed to be universal.”22 Despite critique from postcolonial and critical race studies, many of these frameworks have remained foundational for media theory.23 In historical scholarship, as we increasingly move beyond “modernity” as a dominant conceptual anchor, engaging with practices and discourses of development opens more precise analytical pathways. These film and media’s entanglements with the logics of and economic and the associated with as well as their conceptual underdevelopment, and impact in as diverse as and of media aesthetic and paradigms in film and film and funding are developmentalist assumptions to the they to underwrite the narrative and logics of and global media from the structure of the film to the cultures of argue that a examination of the historical entanglements between film and developmentalist aesthetics, modes of as well as infrastructures and critical the and that our contemporary media is a of the historical contours of development as a field of inquiry embedded within a of some of the methodologies by the featured in this special a of this complex history, to the larger at in media, development, and gender all its development a it as an of be with practices as divergent as and in In as we work on this the of the of the USAID the ideological that have the history of international the and of this on the global its a from development as a global practice and as an institutional and which over the has as a with its own media Yet or does not erase the historical impact of these the contradictions they have reflected and over the as the of development several crucial to the economic theories of development initiatives to and through the of the development an international policy framework at from the Global to the of the Global the by the political role of and the of the International the on was challenged by dependency theory and at development as global structural the neoliberal of the the Programs by the and World imposed and as conditions for and forms of assistance became known as the major markers for international development development has moving beyond economic to such as the Human Development and the Development and from international organizations such as the United Nations to a broader network of These frameworks increasingly of and liberal of and with what in many ways to various while the of the to development’s epistemological more scholarship has toward a of its and material the field has to a of and critical by and scholars, which development as a dynamic of conceptual and political to these the studies in this special issue call for sustained analysis in place of In we draw from a of and that in of of gender and to this special issue engage that and from Mexico to contemporary specific local historical of global distinctly feminist methodologies as well as attention to studies that this issue a in the global history of development on and documentary work in Mexico how early women infrastructures as of while US films an early of state and transnational on a outside the Global as the of developmentalist both the and markers of development media, its to the and Latin central grounded in archival also women’s in transnational and the methodological of archives on study of the series to a a digital media not by but by women not as but as subjects and within circuits of neoliberal and the aesthetics and of how development’s has models of to contemporary neoliberal paradigms of and analysis how digital and gender and practices, discourses on and their of these essays the of some of the historical of developmentalist as the question of the role of the state within such on a notion of economic as a and the dominant of development that the state as the for and through infrastructural projects. This understanding of development was shared across both of the as well as in the Third The United and the increasingly mobilized international in the of the modes of international at the postcolonial of policy and ideological These programs were at the expansion of their and of while with the and decolonial of The conceptual between modernization and development that the Cold in of and hierarchies of that long and As an of postcolonial their role as of international aid concern about the of Western development projects. In alternative across the Global South that to structural between and through policies of and In many they were further the global structures. In Latin for example, this approach was through organizations such as the United Nations for Latin and the both developmentalist projects and their have taken many forms historically, and they have and they have been to a of projects, and postcolonial and development has been and in ways and with frequently political While many of these alternative frameworks the embedded in dominant Western they often technocratic and assumptions. gender and gender as for the of to be shaped by This becomes particularly in the media that of development where women frequently a crucial associated with and women were as both the subjects and of their participation in the and labor often as the index of In this study of from the 1970s how women were as of this as these about women’s urban and recurring and of a within the own of and critique that official examination of archives and enables a feminist interrogation of their mobilizing a of the in the of contribution to this issue similarly the of a dynamic within as well as across ideological the of women’s and the media of the and as active in labor and as integral to the technocratic women became of as their labor remained a of and analysis and archival with attention to the specific of and It also transnational that as a and affective a nexus of and practices through which gender, media, and developmentalism one film not as a but as part of the of alongside and work a broader concern of this special media as a of developmentalist projects. The debates the World and which international such as the United Nations and a critical historical for such primarily by postcolonial and of the for the of media and communication infrastructures in as to counter Western The a between and economic how systems of media and reinforced global hierarchies of and in an agenda that supported and alternative media infrastructures across postcolonial contexts, the framework gender as an analytical This “gender in the 1970s by of the Women in Development in relation to The Double its political critique of with its broader to center women in development policy through and This was also in of media, which was shaped by its international reach and audiovisual production and and and Yet, as WID institutional it also to the and of the women’s development programs often by in These were by a of studies, and on and the to of women’s presence and through the of their economic and In this on the filmmaker this history directly by the and of for women by the WID framework during the with and agencies the of and against Women in at the of the neoliberal turn, when institutional media often the only to access and support to projects. The an by this dynamic as of the from the Global South are to engage with the developmentalist assumptions funding models that their similarly the as a in developmentalist media history by the of and centers on the Film a between of and the attention toward the and labor by and work was foundational the of and the of audiovisual aid, as both a of development projects and a critical for their the in this issue argue for a with media, gender, and developmentalism as an field of that is and shaped by feminist and methodologies and that challenge the entanglements between academic knowledge production and and technocratic development And while methodological these dynamics at the structural the of feminist in media and cinema by this the very a