Standardised uniqueness

 

 

 

Erik Henningsen

Department of Social Anthropology

University of Oslo

 

 

Introduction

One of the themes this book seeks to illuminate is the ways in which globalisation engenders forms of essentialist thinking. In this chapter I want to confine myself to this theme by considering an emergent field of governmental policy wherein such cultural processes feature prominently. In recent years a concern for the identity and uniqueness of territorial communities has come to the fore of bureaucrats and politicians attention everywhere. This has been evident for several decades at the local and regional level of state governance. To survive and prosper in the global economy it seems, regions, cities and local communities must come to terms with their identity and take measures to communicate it in an effective way to the external world. The apparent success of, for instance, a city like Barcelona in terms of capitalising on its cultural distinctiveness, has undoubtedly been a source of inspiration for many others that seek to follow in the same path. As Lien (2004) shows, today it has become a common expectation of local governments that they should device policies for the cultivation and utilisation of the identity of local communities. Increasingly, this line of thinking is becoming the norm at the national level of government too, as can be witnessed in various attempts of “nation branding”, and most famously perhaps in the “Cool Britannia” programme of the New Labour government in the U.K.

These forms of policy are clearly expressive of the struggle for attention and recognition Eriksen point to as a characteristic feature of globalisation in chapter xx of this book. They are typically justified by assertions of the urgent need of social actors to be seen and heard on the global stage, and they find resonance in the desire for recognition of diverse social groupings and communities. More narrowly speaking, the stated aims of these policies tend to revolve around the attraction of capital investments, the promotion of tourism and the stimulation of civil society. On the national level, strategic uses of identity are thought to contribute to the furthering of the geo-political interests of the state and to the promotion of its interests in such matters as trade and cultural exchange (Leonard and Small 2003). There is thus a wide range of objectives that are to be served by this field of governmental policy. Here, the interests of local communities and of artist, intellectuals and other representatives of the “cultural sector” are to be aligned with those of capital and the bureaucrats of the state.

This field of governmental policy is crucially dependant upon, and in a sense made possible by, contemporary forms of management expertise. Experts of brand management, corporate culture, strategy and the like provide decision makers with a language and practical procedures that make identity, culture and uniqueness emerge as manageable entities, that is, as potential objects of governmental policy. As such management expertise plays an important enabling role in the global proliferation of this trend of policy making. And through the practices of identity management they facilitate, management expertise inevitably comes to impress certain frames of understanding upon the people who are involved in such processes. To gain understandings of the cultural processes that unfold in connection with the inclusion of identity in governmental policy one would therefore be well advised to examine the role played by management expertise.

In this chapter I propose to view contemporary management expertise that is concerned with identity and uniqueness as a project of rationalisation. I intend to characterise this project, illuminating some of its most salient features. More specifically I want to address the question of how management expertise comes to influence the thinking of people who are involved in this form of policy making.

I will do so on the basis of an ethnographic case study of a development project that was conducted in Rjukan, a town of about 6000 people, located in the county of Telemark in southern Norway. The project was carried out by a consultancy firm from Oslo, that specialises in strategy- and vision processes, on assignment from the local administration and business community of Rjukan. The purpose of the project was to have the members of the local community look ahead and generate a vision and strategies for its future survival. It was given the name ”Over kanten”, which directly translates into “over the edge”. In six workshops the consultants from the strategy firm and some forty participants, representing the various sectors of the society at Rjukan, produced a document of 70 pages, containing four future scenario’s for the local community, descriptions of its various kinds of assets, and suggestions for its mission and vision. In all project activities great emphasis was placed upon the need of the local community to find ways of exploiting its uniqueness. Two of the workshops that were conducted as a part of the project were specifically devoted to the identification and selection of the “values” and the “uniqueness” of the local community. As such the project is well suited to illustrate the workings of management expertise.

 

 

Rjukan

To many Norwegians the town of Rjukans call for uniqueness might seem particularly appropriate, owing to its location in the rural mountain landscape of Telemark, the heartland of the folk culture that has been elaborated in Norwegian nationalist imagery, and to its heroic position in modern Norwegian history. For one thing, Rjukan is the birth place of Norsk Hydro the largest Norwegian industrial company. For another, it is the scene of a famous sabotage action during World War II in which an industrial plant that was used by the German occupants for the production of heavy water was destroyed.

            The town is located in the upper parts of Vestfjorddalen, a steep valley – so steep in fact, that the sun does not enter the town for large parts of the winter season – that emerges in the North from the mountain plateau of Hardangervidda, the largest national park in Norway and a favoured target for outdoors activities like skiing and trekking. To the South the valley ends in Lake Tinnsjøen. The surrounding district is a sparsely populated agricultural landscape.

 It is a peculiar location for a town of such considerable size by Norwegian standards, and a hundred years ago the valley was populated by only a few hundred people running small farms. Some of their income derived from services paid to visiting tourists, representatives of the Scandinavian and European high-society, who came to climb Mt. Gausta, the highest mountain of the southern part of Norway, that ascend directly from the Western slopes of the valley, or to view the Rjukan waterfall in the gorge in the upper part of the valley.

In 1902 the engineer Sam Eyde and a group of business associates, bought the waterfall, and continued to buy most of the land and water rights throughout the valley, with the intention of selling it on to an American or European industrial corporation. While struggling to find a buyer for the waterfall, Eyde stumbled upon a technical solution of how to extract nitrogen from air in the form of saltpetre, through the use of large quantities of electric energy. In the following years the business partners succeeded in attracting foreign investors to the project, paving the way for the large-scale industrial development of Vestfjorddalen and for the establishment of Norsk Hydro under the leadership of Eyde.

In a few years the population in Vestfjorddalen grew to more than 10 000 people as the town of Rjukan was erected in the vicinity of the industrial plants. The massive amount of resources that was required for the construction of power stations in this inaccessible terrain and the scale of the industrial development that was initiated in the valley, served to elevate Rjukan to the centre stage of national attention. At this time Norway was a newly independent state after the dissolving of the state-union with Sweden in 1905, an as such one of the most backward countries of Europe. Because of its pioneering role in the exploitation of water power for industrial purposes and because of the unprecedented scale of the project in a Norwegian context, Rjukan was seen to be spearheading the modernisation of the country.

If these events had taken place ten years later, when the technology for the transportation of electric energy was radically improved, the industry would most probably not have been located to Vestfjordalen because of its inconveniences of communication. The town is not only located far away from the nearest port of shipment. On the way to the coast the products of the industry had to be transported by boat over Lake Tinnsjøen.

By the mid 1960’s, it was evident that the production at Rjukan was not going to be competitive in the foreseeable future, and from this time onwards Norsk Hydro has gradually withdrawn its activity from the town.

 When talking to people in Rjukan I was often offered the expression “at Rjukan Hydro was the society”. It points to the members of the local community’s great reliance upon the company as not only the sole provider of jobs, but of a wide range of social welfare arrangements, making it at times difficult to differentiate it from the local government. A dominant theme in the local historical writing that covers the most recent period of the town is the struggle to uphold the industrial activity of Norsk Hydro and to develop an alternative basis of economic activity (referanse). Since the sixties the population of Rjukan has slowly but steadily decreased, accelerated at times by major cut-downs in Norsk Hydro. In 1988 Norsk Hydro finally shut down its process-based industry at Rjukan. To gain political acceptance for the shut-down Norsk Hydro agreed to remain present at Rjukan with a business that employ about 400 people, and to the donation of a large fund to the local government. In the subsequent years the fund has been used to finance various kinds of projects to stimulate economic growth in Rjukan, several of which has been headed by consultants from Oslo.

The project I followed thus fall into a line of activities that seeks to generate ideas for a new basis of existence for the local community at Rjukan, in the wake of Norsk Hydro. A short time prior to the start of the project two well known Norwegian investors had publicly announced their interest for a large scale development of Rjukan as a skiing resort, and in connection with this an old plan for the construction of an alpine skiing course from the top of Mt. Gaustad and down to the bottom of the valley had been revived by local politicians and members of the business community. If the plan is realised it would allegedly make for the alpine course with the greatest fall in altitude in northern Europe. This circumstance added a sense of acuteness and realism to the discussions that unfolded within the framework of the project. The future scenario that received the most attention from the very beginning of the project, accordingly describes a transformation of Rjukan into an “Alp village” exploiting the facilities for winter sports activities at the place.

 

 

The turn to identity

As a trend of policy making, the strategic promotion of the identity of local communities, cities, regions and nation states has gained momentum from predicaments very similar to that of the town of Rjukan, that is as a counter measure to the processes of deindustrialisation many regions and urban areas in the western world have been caught up in during the last twenty years. As such, these forms of policy making can be seen to be deeply rooted in the workings of the globalized economy. Political economic analysis of globalisation point to a series of interrelated structural changes of economic systems that have been in progress since the early 1970’s, one of the most important results of which has been a release of capital from its territorial constraints (Harvey 1989, Castells 2001). Reasoning from these premises, David Harvey (2001) offers an explanation for why the cultural identity of cities and regions all over the world have come to be seen as vital assets in terms of instigating economic development. An important consequence of globalization is the vanishing of all sorts of local monopolies. Because of this, the current situation is characterized by a frantic search by market actors to reassemble monopoly powers by other means. One such strategy consist in exploiting possibilities for monopoly rent, that is, the form of rent that arises out of the control of products of so special quality as to be in principle incomparable to other products. The classic examples of products that accrue monopoly rent are fine wines and famous works of art, but as can be readily imagined the cultural distinctiveness of a city may also lie at the base of such competitive advantages. Thus, if the competitive pressure that arises from globalization makes a European region ill-suited as a host for large scale industrial production, it may seek to restore growth on the basis its unique cultural characteristics that is by virtue of its “collective symbolic capital”. Two forms of contradictions lie at the heart of this economic logic, Harvey points out. Firstly, the more successfully a city or a region manages to capitalise on its identity in this way, the more likely it is that the perceived uniqueness this strategy feeds off will be destroyed in the process. Secondly, it is an economic logic that is pushed forward by actors with a globalist outlook, but one that is also likely to stimulate (anti-globalist) particularistic sentiments. 

This line of analysis provides an important context to the Over kanten project, which brought together distanced reflection on how the uniqueness of the place could be exploited for the sake of for instance tourism development with a particularistic celebration of local identity. To gain a proper understanding of what went on in the project however, this line of analysis needs to be complemented by other considerations. All of the people that were involved in the development project that I spoke to, whether they were politicians, bureaucrats of the local administration, representatives of the business community or of the cultural sector, were convinced that the utilisation of Rjukans “uniqueness”, in terms of its natural surroundings, its position in Norwegian history, its cultural traditions and architecture, was a key solution to the problems the local community was facing. The consultants that facilitated the project propagated this position in a rather dramatic way throughout the project, as a matter of the life or death of the local community. But more importantly, they provided a language and a set of procedures for dealing with the uniqueness of the place, a language that makes it possible to transform such ambitions into an operational policy. The issue for people at Rjukan was not so much whether or not they wanted to make strategic use of the identity of the place, but how they should go about doing it and in this respect management expertise plays a crucial role by contributing the relevant means. I think it is safe to assume that in most cases where government actors come to explore or adopt policies for the utilisation of identity, they do so with the direct or indirect aid of management expertise.

Contemporary forms of management expertise direct themselves to all kinds of social entities from business corporations to the state and from the individual to the nation. And they present themselves under so many names. On closer examination however, this diversity seems less compelling. Management thought typically subsumes all kinds of social entities under the model of the business enterprise. In most cases it works in accordance with a common formula where “values” or “stories”, “images”, “mission” and “vision” are the principal conceptual ingredients. Implied in this scheme is a demand for business enterprises to clarify their identities, in terms of “values”, or (as is often the case with approaches of a marketing bent) in terms of “stories”. It demands that business enterprises should decide upon which “images” of themselves they should project onto the market. Business enterprises must similarly clarify their purpose (the “mission”) and a desired future (the “vision”) they will strive to create. Another concept that is axiomatic to contemporary management expertise is that of “credibility”. What this amounts to is a demand that there should be a real correspondence between the images projected onto the market and the values that characterise internal life of the business enterprise[1]. If not, the reasoning goes, the disparity will easily be disclosed by conscious consumers seeking unique experiences and products to identify with, and thus cause more harm than good for the business entreprise.

It is the close examination of activities that are guided by this methodology that make it possible to ascertain the distinctiveness of the recent turn to identity on the local, regional and national level of policy making. For there is hardly anything unique to the fact that it is predicated on an instrumentalist or commercialist understanding of identity, nor to its outward directedness. Studies of nationalism and the identity formation of modern territorial communities underscore how the interest of the state and other actors enter into these processes (Anderson 1991). Most such studies also show that identity formation comes about through historical processes of selection of symbolic elements that rest on an interplay of internal resonance and external boundary marking in relation to other communities. This is perhaps particularly striking in the case of young and small nations like Norway (Ehn,Frykman and Löfgren 199). What does distinguish the type of identity work that went on in the Over kanten project from its historical predecessors, I want to show, is the attempt to seal off a similar process of selection from the contingencies of history and social life and trap it in a time bound and exhaustive procedure. The specificity of this type of identity work is the extent to which it is framed within a project of rationalisation. Rationalisation according to Weber is the processes characteristic of modernity that consist in the exclusion of arbitrary or “magical” aspects of social entities, their opening up for systematic action. The concept of rationalization is further illuminated by Sayer (1991), who point to the convergence between Weber’s thoughts on this subject, and Marx’ view on capitalism, as entailing a progressive abstraction of social forms. As a general cultural process set in motion by commodity fetishism, abstraction means that ever more aspects of social being comes to be experienced as external objects by the individual that is as amendable to calculation. I use the term project of rationalization to underscore the expansive nature of these forms of management expertise[2]. Management expertise’s principal contribution to policy makers is to make otherwise fleeting and indefinite concepts like identity and uniqueness emerge as concrete and stable “things” that can be spoken of and acted upon with certainty, and subjected to planning, investment, measurement and so on.  

To say that management expertise is a form of rationalisation may seem like a simple truism in view of the classic literature on the subject (c.f. for instance Whyte 19), but when one listens to its most recent proponents it is easy to lose track of this dimension. In their famous essay on modern organisations DiMaggio and Powell (1983) argues that in contemporary society forms of rationalisation are increasingly becoming detached from mere considerations of bureaucratic efficiency and more and more reliant upon the cultural values that structure organisational fields. In projects such as Over kanten this process can in a sense be said to have gone full circle. Over kanten had a distinctive anti-rationalistic thrust to it, and the consultants who headed the project consistently posited it as a rejection of modern instrumentalism. In conformity with a very pronounced line of thinking in contemporary management discourse, the project was presented as a form of re-enchantment.

To gain a proper understanding of how contemporary management expertise works, it is necessary to pay attention to both of these dimensions, and this is what I intend to do in the remaining sections of this chapter. In the next section I consider the “enchanted” manifestation of management expertise. I then proceed to point out how management expertise fashion uniqueness into a manageable entity.

 

 

The great divide

“Unique now… or never” is the title of a recent book in the brand management genre by the bestselling Danish author Jesper Kunde (2002). It captures quite well the enchanted mood of contemporary management thought: Now is a moment of great opportunity for market actors who are able to take advantage of ongoing transformation of the workings of the economy and of risk of extinction for those who are unable to adjust to the new order of the day. Contemporary management discourse tends always to reflect on the coming of post-industrial society, and in most cases it presents this transition as a revolutionary historical break. There are two forms of narratives derived from this notion that typically underpin activities facilitated by management expertise. One is about the urgency for market actors to adjust to the new immaterial logic of the economy. The other is about the humanism of the market forces of post industrial society. Both were brought to bear on the Over kanten project.

 

Over the edge

A power point slide that was frequently used by the consultants in the workshops of Over kanten contains a graphical depiction of the magnitude of the various sectors of the economy from 1901-2021. It showed that from the turn of the year 2000 and onwards, the sector of the economy called “emotional treatment” grows dramatically to occupy the by far largest portion, whereas “knowledge treatment” declines and “industry” and “agriculture” are totally marginalized. The diagram was a borrowing from the Copenhagen Institute of Future Research, the most famous representative of which is Rolf Jensen the author of The Dream Society (Jensen 1999) a book of the strategy genre, that was widely read in the Norwegian business community at the time[3]. In it the author explains how the affluent societies of the world have passed through a number of stages of economic development (hunter-gatherer, agriculture, industry, information) to arrive at the final, post-material, stage of the dream society where the economy is based on the sale and consumption of the “stories” that attach to products. This was the point of departure for many of the discussions the consultants facilitated: How could the local community at Rjukan catch up with ongoing changes in society. In their lectures the consultants often reverted to the examples of the Nokia company and the Lego company, both of which are based in peripheral small towns in other Nordic countries that until recently had been considered “no-good” places. The colossal growth these towns had experienced – today the hometown of the Lego company has its own airport and that of Nokia its own university, it was pointed out – had come about as a result of their ability to tune in to the new logic of the economy. The dream society offered great opportunities for market actors, including a town like Rjukan. But to take advantage of this new field of possibilities a change of the mentality of the local community was required.

One of the workshops of the project was held at the local high school with a group of about thirty pupils. It lasted for about three quarter of a work day, during which the consultants guided the pupils through several sessions of describing the local community and its possible future states, what was eventually meant to lead to the formulation of a vision. In one of the sessions the pupils were asked to make suggestions for their “desired future image” of Rjukan. After reviewing the answers the pupils came up with, the consultant that headed the session went on to talk about the importance of having a positive attitude instead of “whining and complaining” about the troubles the local community was caught up in. “You need faith to make it happen!” he instructed the pupils. All of the suggestions they had come up with were quite possible he said. But if any of it was going to happen, they needed faith in the future they desired, and for that they needed a vision, a guiding star to tell them were they wanted to go. He was interrupted by one of the pupils, a girl, who said that all this talk about faith was fine, but at the end of the day was not what they really needed money? “I understand what you mean” the consultant responded, and went on “but don’t say money say strategy. Strategy is created where there is energy. And energy is found where there is hope. The most important knowledge we have is hope. Will, knowledge, hope, that is what attracts capital. Where you find these things – strategy, will, knowledge – that is where the capital goes! You have uniqueness! You just need to focus upon it instead of the problems”.

Some of the participants of the project I interviewed considered such talk about the habit of “whining and complaining” among the members of the local community as somewhat provoking because of the ignorance it demonstrated of the work of readjustment they had been engaged in for a long time. The consultant could however very well have picked up this way of describing the local community from listening to the discussions of the project members themselves. Most of the project members I spoke to pointed to a widespread and destructive mentality of dependence on the – soon to be gone – Hydro Company, often conveyed through the popular local expression “At Rjukan people sit on their asses and wait for Hydro to come and change their light bulbs”.  And in workshop sessions, project participants kept on making declarations of the type: “I think it is about high time for people in Rjukan to stop complaining about everything and start to think in a more positive way about what we can do for ourselves”. The consultants elaborated on these viewpoints, putting them into a larger socio-economic context. Rjukans problem, it was repeatedly stated, was that it was trapped, not only in the material infrastructure but also in the mentality of the bygone industrial society.  The project name Over kanten referred to the ambition of assisting the local community in making the leap into – or at least bringing it up “on the edge” to have a glimpse of – the new logic of society. To underline this meaning the front cover of information material from the project, and the image that was projected onto the slide screen in between workshop sessions, feature a photograph of two base-jumpers throwing themselves off a mountain – not unlike one of the steep hillsides of Vestfjorddalen.      

The somewhat lyrical, and often humorous, tone the consultant that headed the project usually would put on when he spoke to the project members, was partly something that fell natural for him, partly it was a conscious strategy to engage people as fully as possible in the activity. The message he brought forward about the coming of the dream society was well fitted to this end, as it easily lends itself to an enthusiastic style of presentation. The great optimism of this message does not only ensue from the prospects of economic growth it profess. It also contains a promise that people will be brought closer to them selves when taking part in economic activity. Partly this relates to the imperative of credibility I have pointed out above. To make strategic uses of Rjukans uniqueness, the consultants emphasised in workshop sessions, should not – and could not – entail a corruption of the “authenticity” of its culture and identity. The message went further however. In lectures the consultants explained that as the consumers of stories rather than the mere material products, the new logic of the economy will allow people to “å være seg selv” (“be themselves”) in a way they were previously denied. The logic behind this form of reasoning is spelled out in The Dream Society. In a passage of the book that describes the consequences for business actors of the emergence of the politically aware consumer Jensen states: 

 

“The traditional, for-profit-only company is on its way to becoming a thing of the past (…) Consumers will be politically aware, choosing products from companies that exhibit attitudes similar to their own. (…) At the same time the big Dream Society companies will encompass those that specialize in selling sympathy, compassion and aid, or assistance, like the Red Cross and other organizations, large and small currently collecting donations for charitable purposes. They should be considered to be companies precisely because all companies of the future will be selling emotions. Thus they are not fundamentally different from the other market players” (Jensen 1999: 43-44).    

 

Jensen proceeds over the next thirty pages of the book to depict the emerging “market for adventures”, “the market for togetherness, friendship and love”, “the market for care”, “the who-am-I market”, “the market for peace of mind” and “the market for convictions”. In effect, the book demonstrates how the market in the emerging dream society absorbs human sociality and culture in its entirety. What makes this possible is the degradation of utility value to a secondary position as a driving force of the economy in the dream society. Instead the economy of the dream society is based upon our dreaming and our emotions, that is, upon the production, sale and consumption of the stories that attach to commodities. The craving for stories, Jensen holds “is part of what it means to be human – integral to any definition of Homo Sapiens. We have always lived in a spiritual as well as physical world” ( Jensen 1999: 52). Because of this, the total collapse of culture and society into the market Jensen describe, is not seen to entail a debasement of the life of human beings. On the contrary, in the dream society the market will allow us to live out our variegated emotional needs. It is these needs, the book says, that defines us as human beings. In the economy of the previous stages of society, based upon the material utility of commodities and bureaucratic rationality, such needs were effectively repressed.

As significant as the visions of the contemporary and future society that are produced in such discourse is the way in which it presents the transition to the post-industrial as an absolute break and its thoroughly homogenizing construction of the past. Jensen is quite categorical in his depiction of the societal stages that precedes the dream society. In his account of the dream society, industrial society and the information society emerges as not only defined by their reliance upon, but as totally permeated by, materiality/utility value and instrumental reason. The inception of stories and emotions, as a force to be reckoned with in the economy, is in effect presented as coterminous with the emergence of the dream society sometime in the 1990’s. To say that the Red Cross and contemporary business organizations are fundamentally alike because they all deal with emotions makes very good sense when viewed in the light of this contrast image of the past.

This construction of the industrial past as a soulless era of pure commoditization, material utility and formal rationality, is the ideological alibi upon which most versions of contemporary management thinking rest[4]. It explains how management expertise are able to present itself as simultaneously a project of rationalisation, through their aim of converting “soft” assets such as a culture, creativity and identity into administrative categories, and as re-enchantment, promising to restore a lost human wholeness. This ambiguity is contained in the expression “soft” which is commonly used in the management literature and among management consultants, as a tag on management approaches that focus on phenomena such as identity, culture, creativity and knowledge. In the context of state governance and administration of modern organizations softness takes on a specific meaning, pointing to phenomena that are considered to lie outside the scope of processes of rationalisation[5]. Softness thus evokes the notion of a precious humanity or “life world” that is seen to be threatened by the expansion of calculative reason (Habermas 1987). As Sennet (1974) demonstrates, experiences of forms of alienation, which to some extent must always accompany capitalism, has throughout its history given rise to compensatory reactions based on a longing for purified and innocent forms of sociality. Contemporary management thought feeds of this generic discontent with the “illness of capitalism”, forging descriptions of organisational life and economic practices as a landscape of human loss, that in many ways resemble Webers dystopic image of the iron cage. It does so by framing these descriptions in evolutionary schemes similar to that of Jensens, as defining features of bygone or dying social forms. In this way the introduction of a style of management that focus on identity can be seen to replace a state of lack of identification; consumption of sign value replaces a state in which consumption was purely based upon considerations of utility, and so on.

 

 

Indeterminate events

The evolutionist thinking of management expertise entrust it with a ready made justification for the use of its services. It provides a harmonising ideology for the use of identity as an object of policy. This does not mean, it should be emphasised, that it was merely an ornamental feature of the interaction that took place in the works shops of the Over kanten project. During the project period of Over kanten the local government at Rjukan initiated a revision process of the plan for its organisation (“kommuneplanen”). The consultant in charge of Over kanten several times pointed out the difference between these two enterprises to the project members. “They” (the planners of the local governmental administration) were going about in the old fashioned bureaucratic way, he asserted, whereas “we” (the participants of Over kanten) were proceeding in accordance with a new and different way of thinking.

The idea of engaging in a form of activity that transcended the bureaucratic nature and instrumentalism of traditional planning practices structured the activity that took place in the workshops of Over kanten in important ways. Events like the workshops that was conducted for the Over kanten project are generally characterised by a certain indeterminacy of situation. The consultants of the firm that was in charge of Over kanten usually pointed out to their clients at the beginning of projects that they consider the discussions and thought processes that are stirred up in projects to be highly valuable on their own terms, and as valuable as the strategy documents that comes out of them. There is accordingly more than one way in which such projects can be deemed successful. Formally the Over kanten was classified as a development or planning project, but the way in which the workshops of the project unfolded often made it difficult to say what type of activity it exemplified. A great deal of the statements that were made by project members at the workshops, in group work and plenary sessions, had the form of responses to the question: Who are we? These activities often featured series of declarations were people described the “strengths” and “weaknesses” of the local community, and not at least testified to their commitment to its future survival. On the one extreme there were statements based on disengaged considerations of what forms of uniqueness Rjukan possessed that realistically could serve as a means of creating economic growth, on the other there were passionate declarations of the speakers allegiance to the local community and the inherent value of its cultural traditions. The consultants who headed the sessions generally welcomed all such types of statements as valuable contributions to the project.

Most of the members of Over kanten I interviewed during and after the project concluded that in terms of the quality of the “process” it was a definite success: It generated a lot of commitment among people and many interesting discussions and creative ideas the local community could benefit from. Over kanten was an exploration in the strategic uses of Rjukans uniqueness, and simultaneously an impressive rally of local patriotic engagement. This form of productivity, it should be noted, was conditional upon people’s acceptance of a certain way of speaking and relating to the identity of the local community.

 

The rediscovery of identity 

In a sense the Over kanten project consisted of a rediscovery of the uniqueness and identity of Rjukan. This is not to suggest that people at Rjukan were unaware of these things. The rediscovery that was facilitated by the project rather consisted of a re-articulation of uniqueness and identity within the language of management expertise. Partly this is achieved through the framing of these concepts in the technical vocabulary of management expertise. As I have pointed out above, reasoning about identity in management discourse is consistently framed within ideas of market behaviour. Here, uniqueness and identity is referred to in terms of “values” or “stories” and often used interchangeably with “market position” or ”selling point”. Shortly below I will describe how such concepts were put to use in the Over kanten project with the aim of selecting an appropriate uniqueness for Rjukan. Equally significant as the technical vocabulary of management expertise is the characteristic manner in which it speaks about identity and uniqueness. In management discourse uniqueness and identity are typically talked about as something business enterprises can be or not be in possession of. It is something they can be endowed with in rich quantity or have little of. It can be acquired or lost, created or destroyed or even stolen. A market actor may find that its preferred identity is already occupied by someone else, and so on. These are common figures of speech when people talk about identity. In management discourse however they tend to take on a very literal meaning. The activities of management expertise is on the whole characterised by an immense trust in language, or, more precisely, in the capacity of language to reflect the world in an unproblematic way. Management discourse has little room for ironic playfulness about the meaning of its concepts.

There is an obvious commonsensical appeal to this way of talking about uniqueness and identity. It makes it relatively easy for people of diverse backgrounds to take part in discussions and express their opinions on these matters. In their preparations for the workshops of Over kanten and other projects, the consultants were careful to make sure that the activity should not divert into unnecessary intellectualism. The point of these exercises, they explained, was not to produce sophisticated academic accounts of the uniqueness of Rjukan, but to engage people as fully as possible in thinking about how to make use of it. Another obvious effect of this way of speaking is that it invites people to think about identity as a form of possession or capital, however unspecified it may be. This too can be said to make it easy to relate to matters of identity as it confers a sense of concreteness and usefulness onto this domain of experience. When project members spoke of the history of Rjukan in the Over kanten project they typically referred to them as a range of assets the local community somehow could make use of.

 

Recovering enthusiasm

Most of the activities that took place in the workshops at Rjukan was devoted to various kinds of group work, reflecting upon and giving names to different properties of the local community (its history, culture, natural landscape, infrastructure, social relations and so on) and its future scenario’s. With the aid of the consultants the participants of Over kanten were literally taking stock of the material and immaterial belongings of the local community, sorting out which elements that were valuable for its future survival and which elements it should dispose itself of. Among the latter were its industrial mentality that was seen to lock the local community in a state of fatalism and social fragmentation. However, there were also elements of this industrial mentality that was singled out as highly valuable. As I have indicated above, in Over kanten great emphasis was placed upon the need for people to have faith in a future goal in order to create growth. Several participants I interviewed connected this aspect of the project directly to the great enthusiasm that is known to have characterized the pioneering stage of the construction of the industrial town ninety years ago. During discussions it was often pointed out by project participants that the local community really was in possession of qualities like “will”, “hope” and “faith”, but that it was things that had to be “funnet fram til igjen” (“brought forward again”). In an interview, I talked to one of the project members about his desire for people at Rjukan to get excited about some “mega project”, like constructing an alpine course from the top of Mt. Gaustad  – “something really big”. He likened it to the capital investment that was made in Rjukan a hundred years ago. In this perspective the idea seemed less ridiculous, he pointed out: “Think about it, if we were to make the same kind of investment here today it would amount to something like one third of the state budget. That’s what I call having faith!”. 

In historians accounts of the enthusiasm of the first decades of the industrial development at Rjukan it is seen to emerge as the combined result of the massive nature of the industrial project that materialized before the workers and engineers eyes, the forms of social mobility it entailed for the lower sections of the peasant population in the region, the social reformist character of the housing programme that was instigated in the construction of the town, the modernist techno-optimism typical of the time and the charismatic role of Sam Eyde, the industrialist that headed the project. In the reflections about the past that went on within the framework of Over kanten this chain of causation was in a sense inverted. Enthusiasm was singled out as a cause of development, a feature of Rjukans history that somehow could be seized and made use of by the living descendants of the people who built the town. To instigate growth and reverse the depopulation trend they found themselves caught up in, members of the local community had to take hold of and mobilize possessions of its history like “will” and “faith”. People at Rjukan had to become enthusiastic about something – some project that was yet to be specified.

The abstraction of enthusiasm from a feature of Rjukans history into an asset or capital the local community is in command of is indicative of the style of thinking that permeates these contexts of interaction. Workshops like these are in a sense laboratories of abstraction that enable people to assess the diverse features of a local community as a repository of assets that can be put productive use. It is a form of thinking that is brought to its extreme conclusion in the more rigorous management approaches that promote methods for calculating the monetary value of the identity of business entreprises[6].

 

The filter of uniqueness

In two workshops of the Over kanten project, that were informally referred to as “branding sessions” by the consultants, the participants were guided through a four step procedure to arrive at a proposition for a “future vision” of the local community. One of the workshops was conducted with the regular participants to the project, and the other with the pupils of the local high school. In the session that made up the first step in the procedure, that lasted for about one hour, the students were asked to name the “foundation values” (byggeverdier) of the local community. “Values are almost impossible to invent”, the consultant who headed the session explained the pupils “so we must use the ones we already have. Some values we would like to carry on into the future, others we can do without”. “What are the foundation values of Rjukan, what are the values you can build your future on at this place” he challenged them. The pupils, who already had been divided into eight groups, were left to discuss the matter for fifteen minutes and write down maximum five suggestions in the form of a cue (“stikkord”) on a piece of paper. When the time was up representatives of the groups presented the values they had come up with, sometimes adding a short explanation to the suggestions and receiving comments from the consultant and the other pupils. Meanwhile an assistant of the consultant punched the suggestions into a word document on his laptop that was instantly displayed on a screen in front of the congregation. Some of the values that appeared on the screen centered on the natural facilities of the place and its rich opportunities for outdoor life as in the suggestions “snow and mountains”, “nature and outdoor life”, “accessibility of nature”, “Lake Møsvatn and Lake Tinnsjø” and “Hardangervidda”. These values also pointed to winter sports tourism as a path of economic development for Rjukan turning the place into an “alp village”. This was the optimistic future scenario under discussion in Over kanten that was held to be most realistic by many of the people that were involved in the project and the one that received most attention in the local press coverage of the project, for the obvious reason that two large Norwegian investors had announced their interest in a large scale development of this nature at Rjukan. Other suggestions pointed to the social infrastructure of the local community as in “the hospital”, “school opportunities”, “associations”, “leisure time” and “sports values”. A third group of suggestions that related to the industrial facilities of the place and its business community consisted of “waterpower”, “Hydro”, “private capital” and career opportunities”. The suggestions “traditions” and “preservation of old dwelling places” referred to the folk cultural heritage of the valley where Rjukan is placed. In addition “friendship” was suggested by the pupils as a foundational value. This list is quite similar to the one that was produced by the other participants of the project in a parallel session, with the exception that it included several values that relate to Rjukans position in Norwegian history as in “dramatic war-time history”. 

The next step in the procedure was to make a selection from these suggestions of the five most important foundation values of the local community. For this end the participants to the workshop were to cast their votes for the suggestions they favoured. The consultant instructed the pupils how to make their selection of values using a “filter of uniqueness”. He explained the criterion in terms of finding an “unoccupied position”, something Rjukan “can become best at” or “famous for” in Europe or perhaps the world. The concept of uniqueness was explained by the consultants in similar terms in all the workshops throughout the project, and the matter was frequently discussed in informal settings. On one such occasion a participant to the project came up with the inevitable suggestion of “Norway in miniature”, referring to the mountain terrain of the place and its combinations of industry and agriculture and of town and country – a natural and social landscape that have been fore grounded in Norwegian national imagery. The consultant rejected the proposition on the spot explaining that it “was taken”. Several other local communities had declared themselves to be “Norway in miniature”, and besides it was not unique enough: “Who would really want to travel to some place, or decide to move there, because it is a “Norway in miniature”?” he asked. The idea was buried without further discussion.

After he had introduced the pupils to the “filter of uniqueness” the consultant turned to inspect the screen commenting on the values they had come up with. “Snow and mountains” and “Hardangervidda” were clear candidates to be the foundation values of the local community he pointed out. In the European comparison these values were “very unique”. “Nature and outdoor life” was not as obvious. It depended on where the local community was put its “level of ambition”. If they wanted to be “best in the region” then “nature and outdoor life” might work very well, he said. But it was more doubtfully if they wanted to be best in the country and definitely not if they wanted to be best in Europe.

During his review of the foundation values, the consultant was challenged by some of the pupils to comment upon “the hospital” which they favoured as a foundation value, pointing to its importance for people at Rjukan. A few years earlier when the regional political administration wanted to close down the hospital at Rjukan members of the local community rallied in protest. A recent edition of a local history book features a picture of the hospital at night encircled by thousands of people bearing torches. As it turned out the struggle to save the hospital proved successful, making the institution into something like a symbol of the local community’s will to survive and ability to stand up against the central government. “The hospital has value here – to you – but it is not unique” the consultant responded, and went on to say that it was part of the necessary infrastructure of the local community, something that would have to be secured in the future on the basis of their uniqueness. Throughout the session the consultant referred to an imaginary family from the city of Stavanger on the Norwegian west coast, reflecting on what kind of uniqueness Rjukan could offer, that would make them want to visit he place as tourist, or come to live there. “Try to put yourselves in the position of the people from Stavanger” he urged the pupils during the discussion of the values. “They wouldn’t say “Hey lets pack our things and go to Rjukan!” because of the hospital. It would have to be for something else”. In the referendum that followed “snow and mountains” received most votes before “nature and outdoor life”, “school offerings”, “Hardangervidda” and “friendship”.

 

 

Applying the global gaze

The simplicity of this procedure entrust it with great persuasiveness as a means of objectifying various properties of a local community and as a means of selecting among these elements to forge a unique identity for the local community. For several reasons, I think the example is telling of the ways in which management expertise comes to influence a broad range of activities where identity is made into an object of policy.

Firstly, the example illustrates the perceived elasticity the identity of social entities attains when they are appropriated by management expertise. As I have pointed out, credibility is posited as an absolute imperative in management discourse. It demands that the expressions of uniqueness a business enterprise project onto the external market must be derived from a real, or authentic, foundation. What this requirement comes to mean in respect to selection processes such as the one I have described, is to eliminate value inventions or faking from the range of choices an actor has at its disposal when deciding upon its identity. Apart from this actors are seen to be free of manoeuvre in terms of shaping their uniqueness. This comes out particularly clearly in the context of business organisations where it is usual to talk about the “implementation” or “cancelling” of an identity or of letting an “identity die”[7]. As the example I have described shows, this line of thinking also apply in the case of a local community. In management discourse, and consultancy projects like Over kanten, values are presented and talked about as mutually independent objects. They are typically not placed in a arrangement that indicate that some are more fundamental than others or that they are interdependent in other ways. Nor are they presented as in any way inescapable. Through procedures such as the filter of uniqueness values emerge as a collection of separate objects that irrespectively of each other can be embraced or rejected in the crafting of the local community’s uniqueness.

Secondly, the example illustrates quite well the principle of selection that management expertise brings to bear on the identity of territorial communities in this type of policy making. It basically consists of the adoption of an outsider perspective on the repertoire of values. In some management approaches this would imply an assessment of the repertoire of values from the perspective of a designated market segment or group of people. More commonly, as the example I have described illustrates, it means to adopt the perspective of a person that is relatively undescribed except for being recognisable as a post-materialistic consumer, someone who is in search of unique experiences and products to identify with. Following Wilks (1995) this could be described as a matter of having people at Rjukan apply a “global gaze” upon the local community. Through the filter of uniqueness procedure people at Rjukan is invited to assume a global standard as a form of “significant other” by which the local “is defined and judged” (Wilks 1995:127). This standard finds a clear expression in management discourse. As my discussion of Jensen (1999) above suggests, strong emotional appeal is usually posited as a requirement of well functioning values (or stories) in management discourse. Management discourse also point to distinctiveness and familiarity as criterions that should be employed in the selection of values[8]. The formulation “snow and mountains” goes well with the flow of descriptions of values and stories that figure in the management literature. It is something an imagined sensation seeker from nowhere in particular can be expected to be aroused by. In this context “the hospital” of course appears as a particularly useless suggestion. Mainly this is because of its commonality and sheer dullness for anyone who has not been directly involved in local politics at Rjukan – as a vehicle of identification it has only local appeal.

Thirdly, the example also illustrates the style of communication contemporary management expertise relies upon. I have already pointed to the commonsensical bent of this style of communication. In light of the present example some further comments can be made. Like many other activities facilitated by management expertise, the filter of uniqueness is predicated on the use of “values” as the principal means of describing a social entity. In management discourse values are talked about in a definite and highly conventionalised way. “Adventure” and “care” are typical examples of how values are expressed in management literature and in countless value statements in annual reports. They always come out in the form of short and uncomplicated expressions that appear self explanatory. Such descriptions are typically combined to produce accounts of identities of social entities in the form of inventory lists of values. The example is also highly illustrative of how such accounts are put together in the activities of management expertise, that is, by way of first assembling very comprehensive lists of the values that can be said to characterise a business enterprise, for then to make a selection of, say, the five most critical ones. As such the activities of management expertise are expressive of the pervasive cultural process Scott Lash (2002) terms informationalisation. In contemporary society, Lash argues, narrative and other complex conceptual forms are increasingly replaced by forms of messages that have a far greater immediacy. Informationalisation points to a tendency of compressing messages to the extent that they are “standing outside of a systematic conceptual framework” (Lash 2002: 3) as “just” messages. I have indicated above that this style of communication served to release creativity among the project members in Over kanten, making it easy to enter into collective reflections about the uniqueness of Rjukan. Conversely, it can be noted that it is also a practical prerequisite of this type of activity and one that impose certain restraints upon the process of reflection upon identity.  In order for the activities that unfolded in the workshops of Over kanten to work, people must be willing to engage in this style of communication. The workshop sessions at Rjukan brought together people of diverse orientation and background: farmers, academics, businesspeople, mangers, bureaucrats, politicians and high school pupils. For the members of a work group to construct a joint description of the local community within a time frame of on hour or less, and merge this description with the ones of the other groups, also within a narrow time frame, it is quite necessary to rely on this style of communication. This type of work presumes the flexibility of expression that is engendered by informationalisation. In these contexts of interaction people who are prone to correct others on conceptual matters, seeking to integrate descriptions in a more tightly woven conceptual framework typically stand out as disruptive elements. 

A fourth observation, about the meaning of the concept of uniqueness as it emerges in management thought, can also be derived from the example of the “filter of uniqueness”. Analysis of the forms of contradictions that adhere to the commoditisation of the identity of territorial communities, in the manner of Harvey (2001), or of globalisation as a process of massive cultural homogenisation – the movement from “something” (forms with cultural content) to “nothing” (standardised forms with no content) according to Ritzer (2004) – is predicated on an understanding of uniqueness as incomparability or singularity. Management discourse proceeds from a different understanding of this concept, and for this reason it is rather indifferent to the problematic of standardisation. The “filter of uniqueness” the consultants escorted the participants of Over kanten through was not a matter of soliciting incomparable values, or ones that could be presented as a mystery to be solved by the outsider. It is rather a method of identifying values there is an obvious demand for in their surroundings, something many people in the rest of the country, or even outside its borders, are already in desire of, or identifying with. As the example demonstrates, to have uniqueness in this context does not mean to be incomparable, but to be “best at” something, to be in command of a superior product. As I have pointed out, a future scenario of Rjukan turned into an “Alp village” received special attention in the Over kanten project. By the time of the Over kanten project the concept of “alp village” was well known in the Norwegian tourism industry, and in several other Norwegian winter sport places were well into the process of developing such facilities. This was a fact that was reflected upon in group discussions of the Over kanten project. But as members of the project came to see the matter it did not necessarily stand in the way of the uniqueness of the Alp village at Rjukan. The one that was to be created at Rjukan was not going to be like any other Alp village. It was to be the one with the biggest and most spectacular alpine course. It was to be the only alp village that offered the combined pleasure of winter sports and industrial cultural heritage.

 

 

Conclusion

Management expertise is involved in processes of articulating the identity of territorial communities in all parts of the world. On the basis of my observations of the Over kanten project I have tried to describe how management expertise work in these context. I have pointed to its ability to mobilize and excite people in acts of reflecting upon the identity of a local community and how this process was contained within a project of rationalisation. This form of rationalisation, I have described as a set of ways of speaking about and conceptualising identity, that in turn enable a procedure of selection of forms of uniqueness the local community should give emphasis to in its self promotion. To the extent that this description has validity across cases – as I think it has – indicates that the activities of management expertise have some important ramifications of in terms of globalisation.

In his description of the ways in which the international beauty contest system is made manifest in Belize, Wilks point out that it provides a common channel that allows for the expression of local cultural differences, but that simultaneously “systematically narrow our gaze to particular kinds of difference”(Wilks 1995: 130). Management expertise I want to suggest, works in much the same way, but perhaps on a much larger scale. The cultivation of the identity of local communities, regions and nations are increasingly channelled through the activities of management expertise. As a result of this, a form of predictability, in the sense of a uniform way of presenting local uniqueness and a preference for certain expressions of uniqueness (the distinctive and broadly appealing) is impressed upon this field of activity. Management expertise, one might say, contributes to the production of standardised uniqueness. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

References

Anderson, Benedict 1991: Imagined Communities. London: Verso.

Baudrillard, Jean 1981: For a Critique of the Political Economy of the Sign. St.Lois: Telos

Press.

Castells, Manuel 2001: The Rise of the Network Society. Oxford: Blackwell

Habermas, Jürgen 1987: The Theory of Communicative Action Volume Two. Boston: Beacon

Press

Harvey, David 1989: The Condition of Postmodernity. Oxford: Blackwell.

2001:   Spaces of Capital. Towards a Critical Geography. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University press

Jensen, Rolf 1999: The Dream Society. New York: McGraw Hill

Kunde, Jesper 2002: Unik nå eller aldri. Oslo: Hegnar Media

Lash, Scott 2002: Critique of Information. London: Sage

Leonard, Mark and Small, Andrew 2003: Norwegian Public Diplomacy. London: The Foreign

Policy Centre

Riise, Jørn Haakon 2004: Unik og ettertraktet. Oslo: N.W. Damm & Søn

Riles, Annelise 1998: ”Infinity within bracets” in American Ethnologist 25 (3)

Ritzer, George 2004: The Globalization of Nothing. California: Pine Forge Press

Sayer, Derek 1991: Capitalism and Modernity. An excursus on Marx and Weber. London:

Routledge

Sennet, Richard 1974: The Fall of Public Man. New York: W.W. Norton & Company

Stirrat, R.L. 2000: “Cultures of Consultancy” in Critique of Anthropology Vol 20 (1).

Østerberg, Dag 1997: Sosiologiens nøkkelbegreper. Oslo: Cappelen Akademisk Forlag

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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What this points to is    reaffirms reimagining   as a brand value tool



[1] The bulk of the activity that went into the development project at Rjukan was devoted to the formulation of four different future scenario’s of the local community. This is what the consultants described as the unique approach of the firm they represented. The rationale behind the approach is to engage people of (in this case) the local community in a collective reasoning about its possible future states (“the space of possibility”), activities that in turn is meant to enable them to choose a vision, the future they want to create for themselves. The end document of the project at Rjukan contains a list of the values of the local community, a mission statement, a suggested vision and so on. As such the project was complicit with the formula I have described.

 

[2] Weber uses the concept of rationalization in several senses; as a generic process, when in reference to gradual historical changes in religious world views or to illuminate the phenomenon of rational bureaucracy, but he also uses the concept in reference to particular forms of modern management ideas like Taylors scientific management. It is on the basis of this last restricted form of usage that I think my use of the term project of rationalization project is justified.

[3] When I asked the consultants about the use of the Dream Society in their projects they explained that they could think of other books that would be more interesting to use, but it was quite convenient to use The Dream Society because it was “common sense” to the business community.

[4] The concept of ideological alibi is taken from Baudrillard 1972.

[5] In his writing Weber consistently relies on a metaphorical distinction of soft-hard to illuminate the phenomena of rationalization. Rationalization is always described as a process of hardening of social and cultural forms[5]. Ultimately this point to the interception and breaking off of the dialectical relationships such phenomena enter into as objects of experience, that is, to their “freezing” or “stiffening” (Østerberg 1997).

[6] A recent book titled Unik og ettertraktet (“Unique and sought after”) by the Norwegian consultant Jørn Haakon Riise presents a method for the measurement of the ”strength of identity” in business enterprises, based on questionnaire responses from employees (Riise 2004). The book also presents a more extensive method where this identity index is combined with three other indexes, measuring the commitment of the employees, their knowledge creating abilities and the reputation of the business enterprise, to enable a calculation of the monetary value of the invisible assets of the business enterprise.

 

[7] In a recent book by the management consultant Jørn Haakon Riise it is pointed out that in the case of merger operations that bring together several identities of business enterprises, managers must make strategic choices about for instance whether these identities should be allowed to “live side by side”, if one of the identities should be allowed to “swallow” others or if an identity should be “amputated” or “eliminated” (Riise 2004: 147).

 

[8] A recent report made for the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs that makes suggestion for the branding of the Norwegian national identity points to the “clear link between favorability and familiarity”. This assumption underlies much of its advices regarding the promotion of Norwegian national identity abroad. Thus when the report argues that the Norwegian cultural forms that should be presented abroad should be of a popular cultural nature – for instance through the promotion of internationally successful pop groups – it is because “people need to be given pathways to Norway through figures and concepts that they already understand and like”(Leonard and Small 2003: 56).