Sedgwick formatted with page numbers v.2           Complicit  Positioning:  Anthropological  Knowledge   and  Problems  of  ‘Studying  Up’  for  Ethnographer-­‐ Employees  of  Corporations   Mitchell  W  Sedgwick                 Abstract   Contemporary  work  by  ‘corporate  ethnographers’,  as  employees  of   businesses,  offers  a  refreshing  perspective  on  Anthropology’s  ‘crisis  of   representation’  and  its  extensions—from  neo-­‐colonial  concerns  and   reflexivity,  to  para-­‐ethnographic  and  recursive  approaches—that  are   increasingly  characterized  by  complicit  relations  between  ethnographers   and  their  informants/‘collaborators’.  This  article  focusses  on  the  history   and  politics  of  ethnographers’  positionality  in  field  research  and  the   analytic  products  of,  and  audiences  for,  their  work.  It  contrasts  the  often   confounded  labor  of  ‘anthropologists  of  business’  with  that  of  ‘corporate   ethnographers’,  who  work  for  businesses,  while  highlighting  that,  for   both,  the  ‘studying  up’  (Nader  1974  [1969])  methodology  required  for   research  at  business  sites  disrupts  assumptions  surrounding  the  politics   of  traditional  ethnographic  fieldwork.  Tracing  shifts  in  core  interests   across  general  Anthropology,  it  is  argued  that  close  attention  to  new   sitings  and  circumstances  of  fieldwork—including  studying  up  in   businesses—could  productively  drive  reconsiderations  of  methodology,   ethics  and,  therefore,  epistemology  in  Anthropology.     In  this  context,  corporate  ethnographers,  who  are  often  formally       Page  1  of  31       JBA  6(1):  58-­‐88   Spring  2017     ©  The  Author(s)  2017   ISSN  2245-­‐4217   www.cbs.dk/jba                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       59   trained  in  Anthropology,  are  specifically  encouraged  to  analytically   engage  with  the  problematics  of  their  perhaps-­‐awkward  complicities  with   their  employers.  It  is  suggested  that,  alongside  the  work  of   anthropologists  of  business,  corporate  ethnographers—should  they   choose  to  do  so—are  well-­‐positioned  to  assist  in  exposing  the  black  box  of   the  culture(s)  of  secrecy  through  which  the  work  of  corporations   intimately  penetrates  modern  life.     Keywords     Corporate  ethnography,  anthropology  of  business,  positionality,  ‘studying   up’,  ‘culture(s)  of  secrecy’,  crisis  of  representation,  complicity,  para-­‐ ethnography     Introduction   Anthropology  of  Business  takes  business  seriously,  as  it  does  the  ethical   conundrums  of  engaging  it  ethnographically.  Along  with  providing   detailed,  empirically-­‐rich  analyses  of  an  arena  that  drives  much  of  our   contemporary  modern  condition,  Anthropology  of  Business  could  also   make  foundational  contributions  to  general  Anthropology  because  it  is  in   the  nature—and  I  use  that  word  specifically—of  their  subjects  that   ethnographic  work  on  businesses  pushes  to  the  edges  of  Anthropology’s   ethical  envelopes.  In  raising  ethics,  I  flag  contested  terrain,  and   ethnography  of  business  generates  particular  tensions,  and  suspicions.   Along  with  other  formal  organizations,  businesses  or,  more  specifically,   corporations  are  private,  legally  protected  fictions  with  very  real   boundaries,  forcefully  guarded.  From  gaining  access  to  such  spaces,  to  the   unpacking  of  their  private/internal  activities,  to  their  external   representations  as  brands,  goods  and  services,  and  as  persons—think   ‘Steve  Jobs’—businesses  are  particular,  and  particularly  demanding,   anthropological  sites.  The  ambiguity  generated  from  ethnographic   positioning  in  such  edgy  sites  should  be  an  asset  to  our  thinking  about   anthropological  fieldwork,  and  a  source  of  analytic  power.  Along  with   making  significant  contributions  to  general  Anthropology,  it  should   constitute  a  means  of  speaking  to  power  and  providing  commentary  on   and  critique  of  the  diverse  socio-­‐economic  conditions  constituting,  for   lack  of  a  better  term,  the  ‘neo-­‐liberal’  regimes  that  structure  most  of   humanity’s  contemporary  circumstances.       Regrettably,  however,  while  generating  interesting  soundings   regarding  ‘another  village  heard  from’,  with  some  outstanding  exceptions   the  quality  of  ethnographic  research  on  businesses  is  uneven.  As  a  result,   given  the  obviously  central  position  of  businesses  in  the  larger  picture  of   how  the  world  looks  today,  this  work  has  been  less  influential  than  one   might  have  hoped  to  general  Anthropology,  as  it  has  been  in  providing   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      60   pithy  commentary  for  public  discussion.  Astride  ethical  considerations,   there  are  real  concerns  regarding  methodology,  including  the  duration,   depth  and  quality  of  ethnographic  research  on  businesses,  which  of   course  impacts  its  analytic  breadth  and  interpretive  precision.  This  would   seem  to  be  the  case  especially  among  ethnographers  employed  by   businesses  who,  as  it  happens,  tend  to  dominate  the  field.  As  I  will  discuss   at  length,  what  can  be  claimed  with  regard  to  anthropological  knowledge   creation  is  impacted  by  the  form  and  intentionality  of  any  ethnographic   work.  Non-­‐disclosure  agreements  (NDAs)  that  are  commonly  found  at  the   center  of  the  employment  contracts  of  corporate  ethnographers  are,  of   course,  relevant  here.  But  the  questions  I  raise  are  more  far-­‐reaching,  and   insidious:  the  extent  to  which  some  ethnographers  may,  inadvertently   perhaps,  perpetuate  the  culture(s)  of  secrecy  pervasive  in  business.  With   the  public  psychologically  branded  by  corporations’  advertisements,   products,  services  and,  sometimes,  their  famous  leaders,  I  argue  that  it  is   in  illuminating  the  erstwhile  ‘black  box’  of  corporations’  inner  workings   that  anthropological  work  on  business  would  most  productively  focus.   And  while  in  this  article  I  critique  the  work  of  ethnographers  employed   by  businesses,  I  also  raise  the  perhaps  counterintuitive  prospect  that  they   may  be  able  to  offer  particularly  cogent  insights  into  those  very   corporations  with  which  they  are  complicitly  engaged.         In  this  article,  then,  I  address  the  conduct,  representation  and   ethics  engaged  in  ethnographic  fieldwork  on  businesses,  all  of  which   revolve  to  a  significant  degree  around  questions  of  positionality  between   ethnographers  and  their  subjects  in  business  contexts.  As  a  proxy  for   these  issues  I  flag  ‘studying  up’  (Nader  1974  [1969])  as  a  form  of   anthropological  knowledge  production,  emphasizing  the  problems   entailed  in  engaging  ethnographically  with  informants  of  equal  or  greater   status  than  the  ethnographer.  The  core  thrust  of  my  argument  is  the   following.  If  not  necessarily  generating  an  inversion  of  authority,  studying   up  would  seem  to  confound  the  supposed  politics  at  the  core  of  classic   ethnographic  fieldwork  in  Anthropology:1  the  structural  dominance  of   ethnographers  (as  representatives  or  embodiments  of  their  home   community)  over  informants  (as  representatives  or  embodiments  of  their   local  context).  Traditional  fieldwork  relations  unfolded,  and  continue  to   unfold,  within  overarching  political  frameworks—that  were  sometimes   colonial,  and  are  now  occasionally  described  as  neo-­‐colonial—which  have                                                                                                                   1  The  model  is,  of  course,  Malinowski’s  fieldwork  among  Trobriand  Islanders,   beginning  in  1914  (Malinowski  1922).  Doing  extensive,  ‘immersion’   ethnographic  fieldwork—usually  for  a  minimum  of  one  year:  an  annual  seasonal   cycle—is  understood  as  a  rite  of  passage  in  Anthropology,  and  is  ordinarily  the   basis  for  writing  an  ‘ethnography’,  which,  if  successful,  allows  for  a  PhD   qualification.  There  is  obviously  considerable  variation  in  the  fieldwork   experiences  of  anthropologists  who  have  come  after,  but  whether  or  not  they   have  done  extensive,  immersion  fieldwork  like  Malinowski,  all  anthropologists   are  aware  of  and  must  contend  with  his  model  as  an  ideal  form.                                                                                                                                                                                Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       61   allowed  anthropologists  the  extraordinary  privilege  of  going  to  sites,   often  very  far  away  from  home,  staying  there  for  a  considerable  length  of   time  and,  often,  returning  to  those,  or  related,  sites  in  the  years  to  come.  If   construed  in  the  negative  sense  implied  by  neo-­‐colonialism,  the   interpersonal  positionality  implicated  in  the  structural  dominance  of   ethnographers  over  informants  allowed  anthropologists  to  impose   themselves  on  local  communities.     I  will  expand  on  this  over-­‐simplistic  rendering  below,  but  it  serves   to  make  the  key  point  that  in  studying  up,  the  fundamental  positionality   of  the  ethnographer  vis-­‐à-­‐vis  persons  in  the  host  community  under  study   is  unorthodox  according  to  the  traditional  anthropological  norm.  If  so,   these  new  forms  of  relations  pose  important  problems  regarding  the   particularities  of  ethnographic  research  produced  through  fieldwork  in   these  unorthodox  contexts  that,  in  turn,  generate  significant   epistemological  questions.  As  the  number  of  ethnographers  in  such  sites,   e.g.,  studying  up,  proliferate,  engaging  with  these  new  circumstances  of   fieldwork  is  important,  in  terms  of  methodology,  ethics  and,  therefore,   epistemology  in  Anthropology.         Studying  up,  the  structural  politics  of  positionality,  and  the  day-­‐to-­‐ day  work  of  ethnography   I  define  studying  up  as  conducting  ethnographic  research  among  persons   within,  or  who  are  closely  affiliated  with,  organizations.2  As  I  understand   them  here  organizations  are,  among  other  possible  criteria,  formally   constituted  legal  entities.  They  stand  within,  and  are  therefore   reproductive  of  larger  institutional  contexts  that  have,  or  have  the   potential  for,  powerful  effects  on  the  larger  society  in  which  that   organization,  and  its  institutional  context,  is  found.  To  unpack  this   organizational/institutional  nexus,  an  example  of  what  I  mean  by  an   organization  is  a  hospital,  which  stands  within  the  institution  of  the   health  care  system  in  such-­‐and-­‐such  national  context.  Another  example  of   studying  up,  familiar  from  my  own  work,  is  ethnographic  research  in   foreign  subsidiary  factories,  affiliated  local  communities,  as  well  as  at   headquarters  of  multinational  corporations.  The  work  of  these   corporations  generates  products  and  forms  of  symbolic  capital  with  reach   across  globally  dispersed  sites  in  the  vast  institutional  context  of   contemporary  capitalist  production  and  consumption.  I  might  also                                                                                                                   2  While  ‘studying  up’  has  become  the  moniker  associated  with  Nader’s  (1974   [1969])  proposal  that  anthropologists  should  conduct  fieldwork  within   organizations  effectively  constituting  America’s  ‘military-­‐industrial  complex’,  as   Nader  herself  points  out  (1974  [1969]:  292),  methodologically  this  would   obviously  include  studying  ‘down’  and  ‘sideways’  in  those  same  organizations   and  among  communities  closely  associated  with  them.     Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      62   include  in  the  definition  of  studying  up  or,  in  any  case,  its  use  as   methodological  technique,  conducting  ethnographic  research  focusing  on   the  condition  of  persons  who  are  more  directly  affected  by  their  relations   with  particular  institutions  (and  their  attendant  organizations)  than   would,  perhaps,  be  the  case  of  more  mainstream  citizens.  (Of  course,  it   must  be  acknowledged  that  the  State  is  profoundly  implicated  in  the  lives   of  all  modern  persons.)  For  instance,  anthropological  analysis  of  the   situation  of  Afro-­‐American  male  urban  youth  in  American  cities  would,   necessarily,  require  both  knowledge  of  the  police  at  a  local  organizational   level  as  well  as  the  larger  legal/institutional  system  in  which  the  work  of   the  police,  which  so  intimately  affects  those  under  primary  consideration,   takes  place.     As  a  foundation  to  further  examination  of  positionality  when   studying  up,  I  emphasize  the  phrase  ‘structural  dominance’  in  relating  the   uncomfortable  perception  of  neo-­‐colonialism  in  anthropological  practices   that,  some  claim,  informs  classic  and,  indeed,  much  recent  work  in   Anthropology  (Rosaldo  1989a).  This  is  in  order  to  make  the  point  that  we   would  do  well  to  take  a  disaggregated  approach  to  this  problem.  On  the   one  hand,  we  should  obviously  take  seriously  the  overarching  geopolitics   that  inform  the  historical  circumstances  that  allowed  for  anthropological   fieldwork  in  colonial  times,  and  may  continue  to  structure   anthropological  fieldwork  in  notionally  neo-­‐colonial  and  other  sites.  On   the  other  hand,  in  whatever  historical  period,  we  should  appreciate  the   practical  circumstances  and  the  emotional  engagements  accompanying   the  anthropologist’s  day-­‐to-­‐day  practice  of  conducting  fieldwork  on  the   ground,  as  part  of  a  community,  in  the  company  of  local  people,  over  a   long  period  of  time.  The  traditional,  Western-­‐educated  elite   anthropologist  studying,  say,  a  tribe  in  the  ‘Global  South’  may  inevitably   be  a  cog  in  the  wheel  of  a  larger  set  of  unequal  geopolitical  relations  that   may,  tangibly,  allow  him  certain  freedoms  that  his  informants  may  not   enjoy:  including  mobilizing  resources  that  allow  him  to  arrive  at,  remain   in  and  leave  the  field  on  his  own  terms.  That  said,  the  particular   circumstances  allowing  field  ethnographers  to  gain  access  to  field  sites  in   the  first  place  (and  remain  in  them)  has  never  been  as  simple  as  this   domination  model  suggests,  nor  is  life  on  the  ground  during  fieldwork   unproblematic,  including  the  personal  upheaval  of  anthropologists   uprooting  themselves  from  the  relative  physical  and  emotional  comforts   of  their  ‘home’  lives.     Along  with  any  overarching  politics,  it  is  valuable  to  be  reminded,   then,  of  what  jobbing  anthropologists  got  up  to  and  what  they  get  up  to  in   the  field  while  conducting  ethnographic  research.  My  sense  is  that  across   the  discipline’s  history,  as  today,  the  vast  majority  of  anthropologist   fieldworkers  have  empathized  genuinely  with  the  circumstances  of   members  of  their  host  communities.  If  possibly  seen  here  through  overly   rose  colored  glasses,  successful  ethnographers  are  inevitably  caught  up  in                                                                                                                                                                                Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       63   important  relationships  with  persons  who  we  professionally  call   informants  but  who  are  usually  friends  who  we  treat  as  erstwhile  equals,   at  the  very  least  when  we  are  sharing  ‘coeval  time’  (Fabian  1983).  In  the   field,  as  at  home,  we  devote  ourselves  to  personal  interactions  that,  in  the   nature  of  human  relations,  are  complicated  and,  so,  rewarding.  Thus  it  is   my  own  experience,  which  I  suspect  is  shared  by  most  anthropologists,   that  fieldwork  is  undergirded  by  the  long  term  construction  of  a  practical   and  emotionally-­‐enriched  lifeworld  between  anthropologist  and  hosts   that  literally  makes  space  for  shared  community.  We  might  understand   this  as  a  process  that  allows  the  strange  to  become  familiar:  from  the   perspectives  of  both  the  anthropologist  and  members  of  the  host   community,  and,  so,  a  two  way  process.  As  such,  a  collaborative   movement  across  time,  feeling  and  apperception  is  central  to  sound   anthropological  analysis.  (I  will  revisit  this  point  later  in  the  article.)   Meanwhile,  in  the  field,  ethnographers  very  often  find  themselves   humbled  by  the  knowledge  and  practices  taking  place  in  the  communities   they  are  allowed  to  join.  (In  such  circumstances,  who  is  the  dominant   party?  How  and  when  do  dominance  and/or  questions  of  inequality   matter?)  If  knowledge  of  such  practices  is  what  we  go  to  the  field  to   understand,  I  would  suggest  that,  along  with  respect  for  and   interpersonal  commitment  to  those  among  whom  we  study,  knowing   little  and  being  willing  to  learn  a  lot  about  the  local  situation  is  what   constitutes  competent  ethnographic  practice.       At  risk,  30  years  on,  of  revisiting  a  hackneyed  debate,  I  raise  these   matters  as  a  mild  retort  to  what  seems  to  have  been  an  overemphasis,   especially  in  (North  American)  Cultural  Anthropology,  upon  guilt,  and   subsequent  angst,  regarding  the  circumstances  of  traditional   anthropological  fieldwork.  As  Rosaldo,  as  understood  by  Marcus,  would   have  it,  especially  in  the  morality  tale  driving  his  noted  piece,  ‘Imperialist   nostalgia’  (Rosaldo  1989b),  field  anthropology  has  reached  an  ‘impasse’:   it  is  a  ‘tragic  occupation’,  so  ‘paralyzed’  (Marcus  1997:  95)  and  tainted   that  it  should,  effectively,  stop,  at  least  in  its  current  form.  I  suggest,   contra  Rosaldo,  that  rather  than  tarring  every  anthropologist  with  the   brush  of  neo-­‐colonial  operative,  wherever  ethnographic  fieldwork  takes   place,  including  in  situations  of  studying  up,  we  recognize  that  structural   differences  between  ethnographers  and  members  of  informant   communities  are  present.  And,  despite  the  likely  fact  of  structural   inequalities,  we  nonetheless  work  toward  an  ideal—that,  of  course,  is  not   in  all  cases  achieved—of  communicative  equality  with  our  interlocutors   in  the  field.       Anthropologists  are  conscious,  or  soon  become  so,  of  the  political   circumstances  through  which  their  work  is  made  possible,  and  they   recognize  how  the  politics  accompanying  interpersonal  relations  in  the   field,  including  their  capacity  to  gain  local  knowledge,  affects  their   fieldwork  experiences.  In  turn,  they  should  be  explicit  about  how  those   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      64   particulars  of  the  field  are  subsequently  represented,  or  translated,  as   they  must  be,  for  other  audiences.  And  should  it  be  that  ethnographers   are  invited  to  produce  knowledge  representing  their  field  experience  in   particular  forms  for  particular  audiences,  they  should  be  conscious  and   explicit  about  how  and  why  that  field  experience  is  being  re-­‐translated,  or   translated  differently,  for  that  different  audience.  If  all  corporate   ethnographers  were  so  engaged,  I  believe  their  work  would  be  more   powerfully  rendered,  more  widely  read  and  their  very  important  subject   matter  more  deeply  appreciated  in  general  Anthropology.  Without   explicitly  representing  such  engagements  in  their  work,  however,  the   question  is  raised  to  what  extent  their  ethnographic  renderings  can  lay   claim  to  producing  in-­‐depth  anthropological  knowledge.       Unorthodox  sitings:  the  production  of  the  current  wide-­‐open   ethnographic  moment   While  it  has  largely  shared  the  same  intellectual  trajectory,  the  fact  is  that   in  the  history  of  Anthropology,  the  study  of  businesses—and  other   formally  organized  contexts,  such  as  public  bureaucracies—has  been   unusual,  and  sporadic.  Thus,  although  there  have  been  significant  studies   of  particular  organizations,  sometimes  with  anthropologists  working  in   multidisciplinary  teams,  the  Anthropology  of  Organizations  (including,   therefore,  Anthropology  of  Business)  lacks  intellectual  momentum  as  a   subject  of  study.3       Asking  why  studying  businesses  has  been  unorthodox  takes  us   right  back  to  the  beginnings  of  Anthropology.  Briefly,  classic  sites  in   Anthropology  were  asked  to  bear  the  de  facto  weight  of  extreme,  if   usually  implicit,  analytic  comparisons  with  anthropologists’  own,  read,   Western  societies.  I  say  ‘implicit’  despite  some  late  19th  century  work  that   explicitly  distributed  the  world’s  societies  in  a  highly  elaborated   hierarchy,  with  Victorian  Britain  at  its  apex  (Stocking  1987).  Historically,   work  in  such  extreme  or,  from  a  Western  perspective,  extremely  different   sites,  among  hunter-­‐gatherers,  nomads,  slash  and  burn  agriculturalists,   etc.,  has  been  variously,  if  sometimes-­‐unfortunately  and  often-­‐tenuously   described  as  studying  among  ‘primitive  peoples’  or  ‘savages’  living  in   ‘tribal’  or  ‘simple  societies’  or,  in  more  recent  articulations,  among   ‘marginal  communities’,  say,  urban  slum  communities,  in  ‘less-­‐developed’                                                                                                                   3  For  competent  surveys,  see  Baba’s  (1988)  discussion  of  both  collaborations  and   antagonisms  between  ‘anthropologists  of  work’  and  large  American  corporations   across  the  20th  century;  and  Wright’s  edited  volume,  where  her  opening  chapter   (Wright  1994:  1-­‐31)  nicely  covers  the  history  of  ‘anthropology  of  organizations’,   some  of  it  overlapping  with  Baba’s  treatment.  Sedgwick  (2007:  9-­‐20)  provides  a   survey  of  the  very  substantial  and  longitudinally  rich  anthropological  literature   on  Japanese  businesses,  from  craft  producers  to  major  global  corporations.                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       65   nations.  In  any  case,  if  under  British  social  anthropology  ‘social   organization’  was  a  construct  accounting  for  various  forms  persons  might   take  in  organizing  themselves,  i.e.,  kinship  groups,  tribes,  markets,  etc.,   those  studying  formal  organizations,  of  which  businesses  are  a   quintessential  ‘modern’  example,  have  traditionally  been  a  marginal   community  in  Anthropology.     In  recent  years  there  has  been  an  explosion  of  ethnographic   fieldwork  in  locations  considerably  different  from  traditional   anthropological  sites.  This  has  to  do  with  general  changes  in  our  external   environment,  including  the  proliferation  of  communications  technology   and  dependence  on  the  internet  for  all  sorts  of  relations,  simplifying,  for   instance,  the  maintenance  of  communities  that  are  literally  globally-­‐ dispersed.  Technological  developments  have  also  generated  prodigious   opportunities  for  increasing  numbers  of  people,  often  including  our   informants,  to  experience  personal  displacements,  e.g.,  mass  travel.  These   phenomena  collude  in  complicating—not  displacing—our  common  sense   notions  of  time,  space  and  place  in  social  relations  built  up,  as  they   fundamentally  remain,  from  face-­‐to-­‐face  contact  and  spatial  relations   unfolding  physically  in  the  present.     The  rise  of  new  and  more  creative  sitings  for  ethnographic   fieldwork  also  has  to  do  with  internal  changes  in  Anthropology,  including   severe  self-­‐critique  regarding  the  neo-­‐colonial  pretenses  of  traditional   anthropological  practices,  as  outlined  above.  These  matters  were   combined  in  Anthropology’s  ‘crisis  of  representation’:  a  fully  justified   assault  on  traditional  forms  of,  and  concern  over  the  audiences  for,   anthropological  texts,  as  the  basis  for  overall  critique  of  the  politics  of   (representation  in)  Anthropology.  Hence,  its  foundations  shaken,  with  no   consensus  as  to  what  should  happen  next,  theoretical  debate  in   Anthropology  has  splintered,  as  have  forms  of  fieldwork:  there  is  little   agreement  as  to  what  now  constitutes  a  proper  site  for  anthropological   research.  More  recently,  meanwhile,  albeit  a  far  smaller  discipline  in   terms  of  number  of  staff  employed,  Anthropology  has  shared  with  other   Social  Sciences  a  severe  downturn  in  resources.  That  said,  in  my  view,   despite  multiple,  on-­‐going  intellectual  crises,  Anthropology  is  increasingly   popular  with  students  and,  judging  by  the  high  quality  of  talent  that  it   attracts  and  its  influence  across  ‘the  conversation’  between  the   Humanities  and  Social  Sciences,  e.g.,  in  the  ‘human  sciences’,   Anthropology  is  an  extremely  successful  discipline.       In  the  discipline’s  current  wide-­‐open  moment,  among  the   proliferation  of  new  sites,  increasing  numbers  of  anthropologists  study  in   or  around  formal  organizations.  Perhaps  this  is  to  be  expected:  after  all,   despite  postmodern  pretentions,4  formal  organizations—including                                                                                                                   4  In  ‘late  capitalism’,  often  understood  as  coinciding  with  the  turn  toward   postmodernity,  ‘progress’  may  seem  thoroughly  stalled  across  a  decade  or  more   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      66   businesses,  government  agencies,  voluntary  agencies,  etc.—are  central  to   the  reproduction  of  the  complex  modern  societies  that  dominate  the   planet.  Furthermore,  it  is  perfectly  obvious  that  the  reach  of  modernity   has  touched  the  supposedly  isolated,  smaller,  ‘simple’  communities  that   were  traditionally  sought  out  for  classic  anthropological  fieldwork.   Happily,  many  anthropologists  continue  to  work  in  such  communities,  but   their  porous  and  often-­‐contested  boundaries—the  comings  and  goings  of   its  members,  the  interactions  of  parts  of  the  community  with  the  outside,   etc.—are  now  essential  to  contemporary  anthropological  analyses.5         While  current  circumstances,  including  networks  of  connections   imagined  across  the  internet  and  individuals  and  families  calling  multiple   parts  of  the  world  ‘home’,  suggest  a  plethora  of  new  contexts  informing   anthropological  work,  we  would  want  to  recall  that  the  world  has  always   been  linked  up,  if  at  times  more  dynamically  than  others.  In  collusion  with   technological  development,  networks  of  trade  and,  of  course,  migration,   have  reconfigured  the  globe  (Wallerstein  1979),  sometimes  with  tragic   results.  One  thinks  here  of  the  devastation  of  many  African  tribes  through   the  marketing  of  slaves  that  constituted  the  middle  leg  of  the  16th-­‐19   century  Atlantic  ‘triangular  trade’:  an  enormously  complex  example  of  the   effects  of  Western  colonialism,  and  with  far  reaching  consequences  still   prevalent  today.  Given  this  history,  as  a  product  of  Western  academia  that   developed  in  the  mid-­‐late  19th  century,  but  based  in  earlier  forms  of   accumulation—exploration,  missionary  work,  colonial  administration,   trade,  etc.—Anthropology  could  not  have  arisen  outside  of  a  colonizing   framework.  It  is  natural  that  acknowledgement  of  the  historical  linkages   between  colonialism  and  Anthropology  should  be  articulated,  then.  The   question  is  Anthropology’s  intersections  with  that  historical  record.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               of  stagnation  for  Europeans,  for  the  Japanese—over  20  years  of  recession  here— and,  to  a  somewhat  lesser  extent,  in  North  America.  But  even  putting  rapid   economic  growth  in  China  and  India  across  the  last  two  decades  or  more  to  the   side,  the  progressive  project  of  modernity  continues  to  capture  imaginings  of  ‘the   future’,  at  a  minimum  at  least  as  far  as  the  institutional  configurations  that  drive   that  very  modernity  in  which  our  lives  are  deeply  embedded  are  concerned.  As  a   thought  exercise  we  might  ask,  where  are  ‘no-­‐growth’  economic  relations—that   might,  incidentally,  help  preserve  the  planet—being  seriously  discussed?   Furthermore,  the  current  period  of  Great  Recession  is  hardly  historically   unprecedented.  Rather,  such  dips  are  anticipated—normalized  in  capitalism— and,  so,  indicative  of  the  project  of  modernity.  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  the   naming  itself,  Great  Recession,  refers  directly  to  the  Great  Depression  from  which,   in  conventional  understanding,  we  ‘recovered’.         5  By  no  means  are  interactions  between  communities  new  to  Anthropology.  One   thinks  immediately  of  Edmund  Leach’s  pathbreaking  work  in  Burma  here  (Leach   1977  [1954)).  Nonetheless,  the  dominant  trope  in  Anthropology  until  the  mid-­‐ 1990s  has  been  the  analytic  unpacking  of  single  communities  that  were   considered  bounded,  at  least  as  a  methodological,  ‘scientific’  and/or  interpretive   convenience.                                                                                                                                                                                          Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       67   A  different,  more  optimistic  alternative  to  the  colonial/neo-­‐ colonial  imperatives  of  Anthropology  that  Rosaldo  raises,  then,  might   consider  the  early  development  of  American  Anthropology  as  a  reaction   to  that  very  colonialism:  for  instance,  the  early  20th  century  American   ‘salvage  anthropology/ethnography’  undertaken  by  Boas  and  his   colleagues  (Stocking  1974),  among  Native  American  tribes  devastated  by   white  America’s  western  expansion.  Of  course,  by  this  time,  across  North   America’s  vast,  verdant  stretch—from  the  Atlantic  Coast  to  the   Mississippi—most  Native  American  tribes  had  already  been  decimated   through  contact  with  whites  that  began  in  the  17th  century.  (Far  earlier,  of   course,  in  Central  and  South  America.)  The  practical  exercise  in  salvage  of   (at  least,  information  about)  remaining  Native  American  communities   was  based  not  in  a  romantic  aesthetic,  or  nostalgia  (cf.  Rosaldo  1989b),   but  an  effort  to  provide  substance  to  Boas’  forceful  theories  about  cultural   relativism.  While  subject  to  possible  negative  extensions,  the  cultural   relativist  view  is  that  no  culture  is  any  better,  or  any  worse,  than  any   other:  each  has  arisen  in  human  history  as  an  equally-­‐laudable  human   accomplishment  within  its  own  particular  environmental  context.  These   views,  which  deeply  informed  North  American  Cultural  Anthropology   until  the  1980s,  to  say  nothing  of  the  American  civil  rights  movement,   perhaps  arose  in  Boas  both  as  a  reaction  to  the  appalling  destruction  of   Native  American  populations  and  his  experience  as  a  Jewish  immigrant   from  Germany,  educated  in  the  German  intellectual  tradition.  In  any  case,   driven  by  this  uplifting,  egalitarian  ethos,  it  is  unsurprising  that  the  idea   that  anthropologists  ‘should  do  no  harm’  to  their  ethnographic   interlocutors  should  constitute  the  foundation  of  anthropological  ethics   itself,  guiding  both  ethnographic  work  in  the  field  and  the  subsequent   representation  of  communities  studied.6       Positioned  engagements     As  suggested  above  Anthropology’s  more  recent  rethink  regarding  its   colonial  roots  has  in  some  quarters  been  morally  debilitating:  it  has   attempted  to  hoist  responsibility  onto  the  shoulders  of  Anthropology   as/of  the  Western/dominant  system  in  which  it  was  first  institutionally   constructed.  I  would  suggest  that  an  outcome  of  the  discipline’s  recent   concern  over  its  colonial  roots,  and  fears  regarding  its  possibly  on-­‐going   neo-­‐colonial  disposition,  has  been  an  extension  of  the  missive  that   anthropologists  ‘should  do  no  harm’  toward  the  view  that                                                                                                                   6  At  a  minimum  this  has  been  expressed  through  maintaining  the  anonymity  of   specific  persons  and  communities  studied  ethnographically.  While  a  comparative   discussion  worth  pursuing,  as  it  may  serve  to  respectively  elucidate  both   contexts,  note  that  the  anonymity  typical  of  public  representations  of   anthropologists’  field  research  should  not  be  confounded  with  the  non-­‐disclosure   agreements  (NDAs)  typical  of  for-­‐hire  ethnographers’  work  for  businesses.         Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      68   anthropologists’  work  ‘should  do  some  good’.7  What  might  constitute   ‘doing  good’  or  being  ‘politically  engaged’  of  course  varies.  For  some,  the   act  of  conducting  competent  research  or  educating  students  well—on  the   basis  of  a  rich  and  varied  literature  in  Anthropology  to  which  one’s  own   specialist  ethnographic  knowledge  is  appended—is  sufficient.  For  others,   meaningful  good  is  only  achieved  through  direct  political  action.8   Meanwhile,  it  is  worth  recalling  that,  traditionally,  as  in  the  present,   anthropologists  have  variously  supported  their  host  communities  outside   of  the  frame  of  those  communities  as  subjects  of  the  anthropologist’s   enquiries.  (Not  considered  of  academic  or  ‘scientific’  merit,  such  activities   between  anthropologists  and  hosts  remained  largely  private.)  Without   intending  to  suggest  a  sea  change  in  the  left  leaning  and  sometimes   radical  politics  of  anthropologists,  however,  in  its  contemporary  guise   ‘doing  some  good’  seems  often  to  be  articulated  as  an  explicit  desire  that   the  anthropologist’s  work  should  engage  politically-­‐relevant  subject   matter.  By  this  I  mean  political  relevance  from  the  personal  viewpoint  of   the  anthropologist,9  as  opposed  to  the  discovery,  among  other  things,  of   material  relevant  politically  to  the  community  that  the  erstwhile  naïve   anthropologist  is  studying.10  Of  further  interest  is  the  fact  that  the  many   sites  now  studied,  as  communities,  are  often  institutionalized  within  the   ethnographer’s  own  society,  or  familiar  national  context:  in  shorthand,   they  are  conducting  ‘anthropology-­‐at-­‐home’.       While  possibly  worth  celebrating,  collectively  these  new                                                                                                                   7  This  is  further  suggested  in  the  cover  blurb  of  the  recent  edited  volume,  Writing   culture  and  the  life  of  anthropology  (Starn  2015).  In  his  cover  blurb  for  the  book,   Arturo  Escobar  says,  ‘To  the  question  posed  twenty-­‐five  years  ago  of  “Why  write,   and  how,”  some  of  the  essays  now  pointedly  add  “Why  act,  and  how  do  we  act?”’   8  In  my  experience,  most  anthropologists  in  fact  do  both,  but  balance  them   differently,  i.e,  as  public  or  private  activities,  including  in  their  scholarship.   9  For  instance,  currently  there  is  broadly-­‐shared  concern  over  environmental   decline  with  increased  consciousness  of  the  linkages  between  local  contexts— that  would  typically  be  the  sites  of  anthropological  work—and  global  impacts,   and  vice  versa.  Pertinent  questions  that  arise  might  include:  How  can   anthropological  knowledge  assist  in  understanding  how  we  got  here,  what   institutions  sustain  such  damage  and,  by  implication,  what  forms  of  engagement   would  be  relevant  in  how  we  are  going  to  get  out  of  our  environmental  mess?   Corporations,  national  and  local  governments,  multilateral  agencies,  universities   and  NGOs  linked  up  through  technology,  finance  and  the  consumption  of  goods   and  depletion  of  resources  collectively  engage  this  ‘environmental  problem’.  As   its  creators,  understanding  the  human  dimensions  of  any  one  part  of  this  puzzle   and,  better  yet,  generating  the  capacity  to  describe  the  links  across  its  complex   (organizational)  contexts  is  interesting,  and  important.  How  can  anthropological   knowledge,  as  means,  be  deployed  here,  and  to  what  productive  ends?     10  The  classic  example  of  this  sort  of  serendipitous  discovery  is  Clifford  and   Hildred  Geertz’  sudden,  and  inadvertent,  injection  into  the  politics  of  the  Balinese   village  where  they  were  conducting  ethnographic  fieldwork  during  a  raid  by   Indonesian  authorities  on  the  village’s  illegal  cockfight  (Geertz  1972).                                                                                                                                                                                      Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       69   commitments  among  anthropologists  also  confound  the  intellectual   premises  upon  which  anthropological  fieldwork  was  established  and  the   forms  through  which  it  was  predominantly  practiced  up  until,  say,  the   1990s.  First,  anthropology  at  home  may  undermine  the  analytic   advantages  of  studying  others—commonly  describe  as  ‘the  Other’— usually  expressed,  as  discussed  above,  as  an  implicit  form  of  comparative   method  operationalized  through  the  personal  experience  of  the   ethnographer.  Typically  this  has  been  articulated  as  learning  about   another  society  ‘from  the  bottom  up’.  While  this  characterization  perhaps   suggests  the  ethnographer  as  if  innocent  child,  anthropologists  are  adults   upon  whom  interpersonal  experience,  usually  through  co-­‐habitation   within  a  society  quite  different  from  their  own,  makes  its  mark:   emotionally,  intellectually  and,  often,  physically.  In  practice,  despite   preparation—in  the  form  of  language  study,  reading  ‘everything  you  can   get  your  hands  on’,  etc.—this  rite  of  passage  usually  begins  with  the   ethnographer  entering  the  field,  at  least  for  the  first  time,  with  extreme   naïveté.  If  that  is  the  case,  among  those  studying  ‘at’  or  ‘in’  their  own   society,  what  is  the  impact  of  prior  knowledge—the  de  facto  lack  of   naïveté—before  conducting  ethnographic  work  at/on/with  it?  I   understand,  of  course,  that  modern  societies  may  be  defined  by  the   enormously  complex  range  of  social  roles  and  circumstances  entailed  by   its  members,  as  well  as  a  vast  range  of  ‘sub-­‐cultures’  about  all  of  which  no   individual  could  possibly  be  truly  knowledgeable.  That  condition,   however,  does  not  mean  that  individuals  within  a  society,  in  this  case  an   ethnographer,  does  not  have  a  viewpoint,  however  unsophisticated,  on   other  parts  of  their  own  society.  Meanwhile,  obviously  an   anthropologist’s  decision  to  study  a  particular  part  of  the  complex  puzzle   of  their  own  modern  society  would  strongly  suggest  their  interest  in  and   an  at  least  implicit  viewpoint  upon  it.  Good  or  bad,  how  does  that  ‘pre-­‐ positioned’  aspect  affect  their  access  to  and  their  methodological   engagements  with  their  sites,  their  analyses  and  their  interpretive  work?       Second,  ethnographic  work  in  such  sites  may  invert  or,  in  any  case,   significantly  complicates  the  inequality  common  to  the  erstwhile  neo-­‐ colonial  relationship  of  anthropologist  of  the  ‘cosmopolitan  center’   toward  their  ‘peripheral  subjects’.  While  I  have  argued  for  the  ideal  of  de   facto  equality  in  the  day-­‐to-­‐day,  coeval  relations  of  informants  and   ethnographers  across  the  history  of  Anthropology,  in  new,  modern  sites,   and  especially  in  studying  up  in  formal  organizations,  ethnographers  are   very  often  structurally  subordinate  to  their  informants.  This  matters.  If   overly  simplistically  rendered,  a  practical  articulation  of  these  changes  in   field  circumstances  is  the  following.  It  seems  that  in  traditional  sites   anthropologists  could  remain  in  situ  until  they  themselves  judged  it  was   time  to  go.  In  studying  powerful  organizations,  the  head  of  the   organization  under  study,  if  not  many  other  members  of  that   organization,  can  show  the  anthropologist  the  door  at  any  time.  Problems   raised  in  such  new  circumstances  of  fieldwork,  now  increasingly  common   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      70   in  Anthropology,  have  been  nicely  spelled  out  by  Marcus  (1997:  100):       The  fieldworker  often  deals  with  subjects  who  share  his  own   broadly  middle-­‐class  identity  and  fears,  in  which  case  unspoken  power   issues  in  the  relationship  become  far  more  ambiguous  than  they  would   have  been  in  past  anthropological  research;  alternatively,  he  may  deal   with  persons  in  much  stronger  power  and  class  positions  than  his  own,  in   which  case  both  the  terms  and  limits  of  the  ethnographic  engagement  are   managed  principally  by  them.  Here,  where  the  ethnographer  occupies  a   marked  subordinate  relationship  to  informants,  the  issues  of  use  and   being  used,  of  ingratiation,  and  of  trading  information  about  others   elsewhere  become  matters  of  normal  ethical  concern,  where  they  were   largely  unconsidered  in  previous  discussions.   How  would  such  conditions  affect  the  day-­‐to-­‐day  conduct  of   ethnographic  fieldwork  in  businesses?  What  knowledge  do  we  lose,  or   gain,  by  working  ethnographically  under  such  conditions?     One  may  celebrate,  as,  indeed,  I  do,  shifts  in  Anthropology  as   reflections  of  new  realities  in  an  evolving  world,  including  changes  in  the   political  relations  between  anthropologists  and  informant  communities.   One  may  also  want  to  problematize  the  details  of  received  wisdom  in   Anthropology  as  I  have  expressed  it,  including  Anthropology’s  recent   crises  and  to  what  extent  they  have  exercised  the  discipline.  (This  may   also  look  somewhat  different  in  Santa  Cruz,  CA  from  how  it  does  in   Cambridge,  UK.)  Nonetheless,  these  historical  forms  remain  extremely   well  travelled  ideas  in  Anthropology,  driving  crucial  methodological   premises,  with  foundational  theoretical  implications.  As  I  have  suggested   above,  at  their  heart  lie  profound  questions  regarding  the  positionality  of   ethnographers  in  the  production  of  their  work.       And,  yet,  as  fieldwork  sites  have  increasingly  diversified,   becoming  unorthodox  by  previous  standards—including  corporations   and  other  formal  organizations—engagement  with  fundamental   questions  of  positionality  and  their  effects  on  the  quality  of  ethnographic   research  have  quietened.  In  the  uncharted  territory  of  the  expanding   repertoire  of  sites,  are  ethnographers  just  getting  on  with  new  studies   with  the  intention  of  working  out  questions  regarding  positionality  later?   Have  the  throes  of  self-­‐examination  following  the  crises  of  the  1980s   generated  disciplinary  exhaustion  in  Anthropology,  discouraging  any   hope  for  agreement?  Or,  perhaps,  is  avoiding  these  questions  just  as  well   because  much  contemporary  ethnographic  work  rubs  uncomfortably   against  some  of  the  ethical  concerns  raised  specifically  by  those   important  crises  in  Anthropology?           Cultures  of  secrecy:  exposing  power/knowledge  in  businesses                                                                                                                                                                                      Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       71   As  my  title  suggests,  I  am  concerned  that  questions  of  positionality   remain  insufficiently  explored  in  the  ethnographic  study  of  businesses.   For  one  thing,  a  large  proportion  of  the  ethnographic  work  on   businesses—including  that  available  for  public/academic  consumption— is  based  on  research  conducted  on  behalf  of  those  firms,  e.g.,  with   ethnographers  working  for  the  corporation.  Indeed,  as  I  will  further   examine  below,  in  this  ‘vendor’  context  ‘ethnography’  has  become  part  of   a  saleable  methodological  toolkit.  This  has  obvious  implications  for   interpretative  and  other  analytic  work  produced  for   businesses/organizations,  and  for  interpretative  and  other  analytic  work   that  may,  or  may  not,  stem  from  those  ethnographic  experiences  for  an   anthropological  audience.  This  is  not  about  hand  wringing  regarding  the   authenticity  of  analysis  or,  necessarily,  an  argument,  per  se,  that   employment  by  an  ethnographer  in  a  business  should  rule  out  that  work’s   credibility  to  the  academic  Anthropology  community.  It  concerns  the   provision  of  clarity  in  revealing  the  context  through  which   anthropological  knowledge  is  derived.  This  seems  particularly  important   to  analysis  of  businesses,  which,  I  suggest,  are  contexts  that  are  subtly   loaded,  especially  for  the  ‘native  anthropologist’  working  ‘at  home’.  Allow   me  to  expand  on  this  point.   It  is  not  unusual  that,  like  other  normal  persons,  informants  are   unconscious  of  their  own  apperceptions.  That  said,  the  powerful   interlocutors  who  ethnographers  work  with  in  studying  up  are  often  able   to  control  how  their  labor  is  perceived,  and  in  ways  that  may  significantly   affect  the  pith  of  ethnographers’  analysis  of  that  labor.  It  is  part  and  parcel   of  both  the  ethos  and  the  explicit  knowledge  of  those  with  organizational   power  that,  if  provoked,  they  can  draw  on  the  resources  of  the  State,  both   physical  and  otherwise:  say,  through  their  capacity  to  deploy  legal   resources  to  derive  favorable  outcomes.  Notably,  however,  the  day-­‐to-­‐day   work  of  persons  in  positions  of  authority  intimately  depends  on  the   ‘invisibility’  of  their  means  of  deploying  power  (Herzfeld  2015).   Meanwhile,  of  course,  it  is  precisely  in  uncovering  what  is  below  the   surface  that  anthropological  methods  thrive.  ‘[T]he  enduring,  lived   consequences  of  events  taking  place  in  the  centers  of  power…’  can  be   recognized  ‘…in  the  way  that  [Anthropology]  extracts  hidden  and  highly   significant  social  realities  in  tiny  local  details…  [and  in]  keep[ing]  both  the   detail  and  the  larger  picture  in  focus  (Herzfeld  2015:  18)’.  To  extend   Herzfeld’s  discussion  of  ‘invisibility’,  the  non-­‐disclosure  agreements   (NDAs)  under  which  much  corporate  ethnography  is  conducted  is  but  a   literal  articulation  of  the  culture  of  secrecy  typical  of  the  mobilization  of   power  in  formal  organizations.  But  the  ‘corporate  veil’,  if  a  legal  fiction,   may  have  quite  real  analytic  effects.  As  I  will  expand  upon  in  detail  below,   it  may  well  be  that  ethnographers  employed  by  businesses  are  positioned,   inadvertently  or  not,  to  enact  the  invisibility  and  secrecy—the   mythmaking—characteristic  of  managing  the  tension  between  the  public   and  private  work  of  corporations.  To  what  extent  are  ethnographers  of   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      72   business  willing  to  elucidate  for  anthropological  and  public  audiences   those  very  black  boxes  which  they  themselves  may  be  complicit  in   constructing?       Profligate  naming:  boundary  trouble  and  the  uneven  carving  of   ethnographic  claims   While  there  are  some  important  anthropological  studies,  much  of  the   ethnographic  work  on  business  is  driven  by  ‘corporate  ethnographers’.   Many  corporate  ethnographers  have  formal  academic  training  in   Anthropology  but  they  are  clear  about  their  non-­‐academic,  professional   position  in  the  workplace.  ‘[P]articipant[s]  in  corporate  settings  in  such   roles  as  researcher,  consultant,  manager,  and  designer,  the  anthropologist   operates  as  a  mutual  corporate  actor  with  other  members  of  the   corporation  (Cefkin  2012:  5)’.  In  their  favor,  then,  corporate   ethnographers  do  not  pretend  to  the  quasi-­‐objectification  of  their  work   that  is  typical  of  academic  Anthropology.11  Rather,  corporate   ethnographers’  goal  is  to  produce  ethnographically-­‐sensitive   ‘deliverables’  for  the  profitability  of  the  corporations  they  work  for.  That   said,  while  clarity  is  provided,  or  implicitly  understood,  regarding  the  fact   of  their  employment  by,  or  their  erstwhile  membership  in,  corporations,   when  it  is  made  publicly-­‐accessible  the  implications  of  the  de  facto  lack  of   detachment  structured  into  their  ethnographic  engagements  tend  to  be   distanced.  Most  simply,  the  effects  of  the  empirical  context  of  the  work  go   largely  unacknowledged.  It  seems  that  in  producing  ‘deliverables’  the   middle-­‐level  guts  of  these  ethnographic  projects  are  carved  out.  As  the                                                                                                                   11As  discussed  above,  the  interpersonal  linkages  of  anthropologists  and   informants,  that  is  both  typical  of  the  experience  of  fieldwork  and  emblematic  of   Anthropology’s  fieldwork  model,  generates  tension  in  anthropologists’  later   representations—the  analysis  and  interpretation  elsewhere—of  that  field   experience.  This  makes  the  production  of  anthropological  texts  highly   challenging.  It  is  quasi-­‐objective,  I  claim,  because  while,  on  the  one  hand,   anthropologists  attempt  to  make  an  accurate  portrayal  of  the  world  ‘out  there’,   on  the  other  hand,  our  research  processes,  if  radically-­‐empirical,  are  hardly   scientifically-­‐objective.  Rather,  the  field  is  so  subjectively  experienced  by  the   anthropologist—the  subjective-­‐objective  gap  so  artificial—that  what  we  write   are  real  fictions.  As  such,  given  the  already  fully-­‐loaded  condition  of  reflexivity  at   the  heart  of  anthropological  practices  in/as  foundational  to  interpretive  work— that  is  to  say,  at  a  minimum,  deep  reflection  on  one’s  position  as  an   anthropologist  in  the  field—it  seems  that  moves  toward  even  more  reflexive   representations  are  likely  to  involve  more  complex  objectification  work  than  that   typically  undertaken  by  anthropologists.  (What  I  have  in  mind  here  are  attempts   to  make  the  explanatory  power  of  anthropological  texts  more  evocative,  as,  say,   art:  for  example,  as  poetry.)  As  a  result,  given  the  representational  challenges   anthropologists  already  experience  it  is  no  surprise  that  the  air  has  rather  gone   out  of  extending  ‘reflexivity’  beyond  it  informing  a  personal  ethic  surrounding   our  translations  of  fieldwork:  it  is  a  nice  idea  to  push  things  further  aesthetically,   but  so  difficult  to  do  convincingly.                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       73   ethnographic  descriptions  often  feel  hollow,  analysis  runs  thin:  it  lacks   the  intent  toward  holistic  richness  driving  anthropological  ethnographers’   highly  contexualized  work.  The  impression  of  a  hollowed  out   ethnographic/empirical  center,  meanwhile,  is  encouraged  by  corporate   ethnographers’  publicly-­‐available  presentations  and  writing  sometimes   being  accompanied  by  a  (compensatory?)  veneer  of  high  theoretical   abstraction.12       Corporate  ethnography  takes  many  forms—as  above,  ‘researcher,   consultant,  manager,  and  designer’—but  ethnographic  work  for  business   has  been  especially  prolific  in  consumer  research.  According  to  Malefyt   (2009),  at  the  intersection  of  consumption  research  and  ‘ethnography’,  a   plethora  of  interventions  by  consultants  using  various  forms  of   qualitative  methods  has  been  established  under  the  ‘brand’  of   ethnography.  Guided  no  doubt  by  the  adage  ‘time  is  money’,  it  appears   that  in  this  sphere  there  are  a  number  of  consulting  firms  where   ‘technomethodologies’,  that  claim  to  improve  on  ethnographic  methods,   are  deployed  as  a  matter  of  course  (Malefyt  2009:  204-­‐06).  As  I   understand  it,  here  erstwhile  ‘informants’  provide  information  through   still  cameras  and/or  video  that  interface  with  computer-­‐driven   operations  or  programmes  that  are  perhaps  custom-­‐built  (‘tweaked’)  for   the  needs  of  a  particular  client.  In  the  analysis  of  consumption  patterns,  it   would  seem  that  such  ‘ethnographic’  interventions  may  have  become  an   alternative  to  the  focus  group:  instead  of  gathering  isolated  sets  of  people   together  to  discuss  their  likes  and  dislikes,  e.g.,  regarding  a  product,  an   advertisement,  etc.,  here  individual  preferences  are  literally  recorded  as   they  take  place.  Of  course,  this  data  is  raw—arguably,  therefore,  it  is   pure—compared  with  the  garnering  of  group  opinion.  That  is,  rather  than   analyzing  the  work  of  a  group  of  consumers  in  considering  what  appeals   to  them,  it  is  the  analysts  or,  perhaps  initially,  their  computers,  to  whom   or  which  this  information  is  fed,  and  who/which,  in  combination,  do  the   work  of  interpretation,  i.e.,  at  the  other  end  of  a  technological  tunnel  from   the  action  as  it  takes  place.  It  seems  that  consumers  are  not  even  invited   to  talk  about  their  choices  while  they  make  them,  which  furthers  the  point   that  there  is  no  visceral  ethnographical  knowledge  of  the  space  in  which   consumers’  actions  take  place.  In  short,  there  is  nothing  ethnographic   about  this.  Meanwhile  we  know  nothing  of  the  capacities  of  those,  back  in   the  ‘ethnographic’  consultancy,  working  through  this  already  highly   abstracted  material.  Here,  technology-­‐driven  interfaces  have  replaced   ‘inefficient’  face-­‐to-­‐face  interactions.     In  noting  these  cases  Malefyt  does  not  directly  problematize  this   ‘shift  in  the  work  of  ethnography  from  anthropologist-­‐fieldworker  to                                                                                                                   12  Such  inclinations  are  typical  of  several  of  the  entries  in  Cefkin’s  (2009)  edited   volume.  See,  for  instance,  the  chapter  by  Nafus  and  Anderson  (2009).     Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      74   technology-­‐enhanced  ethnography  vendor’  (Melefyt  2009:  206),  nor  the   attractions  their  work  may  hold  for  clients.13  But  I  believe  he  is  implicitly   policing  what  is  at  stake.  Such  research  operations  water  down  the   meaning  of  ethnographic  methods  among  the  larger,  if  overlapping,   community  of  corporate  ethnographers,  many  of  whom,  as  mentioned   above,  are  formally  trained  in  Anthropology.  While  operating   professionally  as  employees  or  consultants  for  corporations,  and   positioned  in  their  use  of  ethnographic  techniques  in  ways  that,  I  argue,   are  variously  problematic,  most  corporate  ethnographers  respect  the   ideas  behind  proper  anthropological  inquiry,  and  are  keen  to  self-­‐identify   as  anthropologists.  Quick-­‐and-­‐dirty,  computer  driven  ‘ethnography’   represents  a  commercial  threat  to  this  community.  It  should  be  noted,   however,  that,  following  Malefyt’s  lead,  I  have  purposefully  exposed   methods  that  have  so  stripped  the  ‘brand’  of  ethnography  that  they  risk   denuding  it  altogether.  It  is  unfortunate  that  Malefyt,  as  a  corporate   ethnographer  himself,  does  not  make  the  point  that  these  technologically-­‐ enhanced  examples  of  ethnography-­‐emptied-­‐of-­‐content  undermine  the   idea  of  ethnographic  inquiry  as  we  have,  up  until  now,  understood  it:  that   is,  participating  in  the  observation,  in  shared  time  and  space,  of  other   persons’  actual  behavior  and,  in  turn,  putting  co-­‐experienced  events  at   the  center  of  analysis.     Taking  our  discussion  of  ethnography  well  beyond  the  sphere  of   corporate  ethnographers,  as  an  academic  discipline  Anthropology  may   rightly  claim  to  have  invented  (field)  ethnography  or,  in  any  case,  the   participant-­‐observation  method  strongly  associated  with  Malinowski’s   work  among  Trobriand  Islanders.  That  said  as  a  matter  of  record,  or   anthropological  congratulation,  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  ‘ethnography’  has   gone  its  own  way,  carving  out  methodological  space  across  the  Social   Sciences  and,  to  some  extent,  in  related,  practical  fields.  Indeed,  the  state   of  ethnography  is  such  that  in  its  proliferation  across  the  academy,  and  in   claims  to  its  use  elsewhere,  there  is  by  now  no  general  consensus  as  to   what  ethnography  is.  I  have  forwarded  a  most  cursory  definition  above   but,  generally,  ethnography’s  contours  have  been  so  intellectually   depleted  that  it  rests,  precariously,  on  negative  definitions,  i.e.,  of  what   ethnography  is  not.  In  practice,  ethnography  has  become  an  increasingly   large  receptacle  for  all  sorts  of  qualitative  methods:  again,  ‘ethnography’                                                                                                                   13    Malefyt  suggests—rightly,  so  far  as  I  know—that  the  (well-­‐known)   advertising  firm  where  he  works,  or  worked,  is  not  a  ‘technology-­‐enhanced   ethnography  vendor’.  That  said,  along  with  more  traditional,  face-­‐to-­‐face   ethnographic,  as  well  as  various  technologically-­‐enhanced,  methods,  Malefyt  is   frank  about  the  use  in  this  firm  of  ‘deprivation’  techniques  in  gathering   information  on  behalf  of  clients  (Malefyt  2009:  204).  These  are  activities  that   academic  anthropologists  would  recognize  as  manipulations  of  informants  and,   so,  entirely  unethical.  But,  then,  the  intention  behind  these  techniques  is  not  at  all   academic:  they  are  directed  toward  ‘client  deliverables’.                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       75   is  not  quantitative  methods.14  Meanwhile,  I  note  with  some  irony  that   Malinowski,  in  arguably  treading  a  scientific  line  of  enquiry,  did  plenty  of   quantitative  work  or,  at  least,  counting,  as  do  most  anthropologist   fieldworkers  today.   Corporate  ethnographers,  meanwhile,  also  describe  themselves  as   ‘practicing  anthropologists’.  (If  broadly  accepted,  this  wording  confounds   the  common  sense  meaning  of  practice,  i.e.,  anyone  who  practices   anthropology,  whether  in  the  academy  or  elsewhere.)  So,  although  there                                                                                                                   14  I  suspect  that  the  rise  of  ethnography  is  a  consequence  of  frustration  with  the   limits  of  the  types  of  questions  that  quantitative  methods  could  ask  and,  so,  the   quality  of  answers  that  they  produce.  That  is,  situations  encountered  among   highly  complex  subjects,  i.e.,  the  behavior  of  human  beings,  are  not  easily   parcelled  into  simple  variables  that  can  be  meaningfully  correlated.  (Regular   tooth  brushing  and  reduction  of  tooth  decay  are  strongly  correlated,  but  this  is   not  surprising.  The  interesting  problem  is  why  some  people  brush  regularly,   while  others  do  not.)  Ethnography  has  furthermore  become  attractive  among   ‘soft’  social  scientists  as  they  have  increasingly  recognized  that  the  forced   packaging  of  their  quantitatively-­‐oriented  qualitative  methods—structured   interviews,  postal  surveys,  and  so  on—yielded  insufficient  ‘data’  to  account  for   circumstances  that  interested  or  concerned  them.  Such  researchers  might  have   an  intuitive  understanding  that  attracted  them  to  their  research  problem  in  the   first  place  and  about  which  they  were  observant  on  their  passages  through  the   production  of  ‘data’.     Those  opinions  stated  as  a  matter  of  conjecture  in  explaining  the  rise  of   ethnography  as  method,  the  fact  is  that  the  parcelling  of  variables  into   manageable  packages  is  generally  what  is  sought  in  the  Social  Sciences:   quantitative  methods  remain  overwhelmingly  dominant.  This  is  especially  so  in   Economics,  in  Policy  Studies—where  interested  parties,  such  as  governments,   increasingly  demand  ‘fact-­‐based  evidence’—and  in  North  American  Sociology   and  Political  Science.  Perhaps  of  greater  relevance  to  our  interests  in  the   ethnography  of  business,  is  the  field  of  Business/Management  Studies,  where  its   highly  complex  subject  matter  seems  particularly  well-­‐situated  to  attract  analysis   via  qualitative  methods.  Unfortunately,  this  field  also  remains  America-­‐centric  in   terms  of  scope,  with  quantitative  methods  overwhelmingly  dominant.     The  missive  ‘follow  the  money’  provides  the  necessary  evidence  of  this   overarching  phenomenon.  In  terms  of  number  of  staff  employed  and  number  of   academic  departments,  while  increasingly  popular  with  students,  Anthropology   is  a  miniscule  discipline  compared  with  any  of  the  quantitative-­‐methods-­‐heavy   Social  Science  disciplines  listed  above.  In  the  Social  Sciences,  qualitative  methods,   and  the  turn  toward  ethnography  in  particular,  provides  but  an  addendum  to   core  quantitative  methods.  And,  in  the  supposedly  scientific  thinking  driving   most  of  these  fields,  qualititative  methods  are  an  easy  target,  with  the  vagueness   associated  with  what  it  is  that  constitutes  ethnography  as  method  making  it   particularly  vulnerable  to  critique.  Rightly  so.  Ethnographers  do  not  do   themselves  any  favors  here.  At  one  extreme  an  ‘ethnographic  observation’  might   include  a  social  scientist  noting,  on  the  way  to  conducting  a  structured  interview,   that  in  the  cafeteria  workers  wear  different  clothes  from  managers.  At  the  other   extreme  is  the  (traditional)  anthropological  ethnographic  experience:   participant-­‐observation  for  at  least  one  year,  ordinarily  in  a  foreign,  unfamiliar   location,  far  away  from  home:  a  de  facto  rite  of  passage  both  personally  and   professionally  for  the  anthropologist  and,  no  doubt,  for  some  members  of  the   host  community.       Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      76   seems  to  be  some  formal  disagreement  and,  certainly,  confusion,  we  can   define  ‘practicing  anthropologists’  as  a  community  using  ethnographic   techniques  who  are  employed  at  or  working  on  behalf  of,  e.g.,  as   consultants  to,  private  enterprises,  as  well  as  other  formal   organizations.15  (Albeit  less  visible,  the  ‘practicing  anthropologist’   community  also  includes  anthropologists  working  in  ‘development’:  in   public  and  private  sector  agencies,  consulting  firms  and  NGOs.  The   community  of  anthropology-­‐oriented  ‘development  practitioners’,   however,  is  more  closely  associated  with  the  terms  ‘applied   anthropologist’  or,  more  specifically,  ‘development  anthropologist’.16,  17)                                                                                                                   15  The  community  of  ‘practicing  anthropologists’  who  work  in  business  settings   is  most  parsimoniously  represented  in  two  formal  groupings.  Founded  in  1983,   the  National  Association  of  Practicing  Anthropologists  (NAPA)  is  a  formal  section   of  the  American  Anthropological  Association  (AAA)  and  has  the  remit:   ‘promoting  the  practice  of  anthropology,  both  within  the  discipline  and  among   private,  public,  and  nonprofit  organizations’   (http://practicinganthropology.org/about).  I  think,  however,  that  NAPA  is   understood  as  representing  the  interests  of  non-­‐academic  anthropological  work.   In  furthering  that  point  the  Society  for  the  Anthropology  of  Work  (SAW)  is  also  a   section  of  the  AAA,  but  with  an  explicitly  academic  focus.  (With  most  other   sections  of  the  AAA  focussing  on  subject  or  regional  subfields  within  academic   Anthropology,  it  is  extremely  valuable  to  have  sections  representing  particular   interest  groups,  in  this  case,  the  professional  concerns  of  non-­‐academic   practicing  anthropologists.)  Meanwhile,  the  Ethnographic  Praxis  in  Industry   Conference  (EPIC),  as  the  name  suggests,  is  a  group  specifically  oriented  to   ethnography  for  industry.  It  started  its  annual  conferences  in  2005  and  has  an   active  web-­‐based  forum  for  those  pursuing  careers  in  this  area,  especially   ‘corporate  ethnographers’.   16  Again  as  a  matter  of  common  sense  one  would  assume  that  those  with   anthropological  training  (or  other  training  that  includes  in-­‐depth  ethnographic   techniques)  who  are  employed  by  private  consulting  firms  servicing   development  agencies,  or  who  are  employees  at  (State-­‐run)  development   agencies  or  NGOs,  would  also  describe  themselves  as  ‘practicing  anthropologists’.   When  articulated  in  contrast  with  academic  Anthropology,  some  of  them  might   agree  to  that  nomenclature,  but  their  more  common,  specialist  self-­‐description  is   ‘development  anthropologist’.  (Meanwhile,  at  the  UK’s  Department  for   International  Development  (DfID),  anthropologists  and  other  qualitative   methods-­‐inclined  social  scientists,  i.e.,  non-­‐economists,  are  called  ‘social   development  officers’.)  In  terms  of  formal  representation,  this  group  is  most   closely  associated  with  the  Society  for  Applied  Anthropology  (SfAA),  which  is  not   part  of  the  AAA  and  runs  its  own  annual  conferences.  (It  publishes  the  journal   ‘Human  Organization’  and,  just  to  confuse  my  argument  regarding  development   anthropology,  has  ‘a  career-­‐oriented  publication’  called  ‘Practicing   Anthropology’.)  Founded  in  1941,  SfAA’s  remit  is  extremely  large,  describing   itself  as  ‘a  worldwide  organization  for  the  applied  social  sciences’.    It   ‘…promote[s]  the  investigation  of  the  principles  of  human  behavior  and  the   application  of  these  principles  to  contemporary  issues  and  problems.  The  Society   is  unique  among  professional  associations  in  membership  and  purpose,   representing  the  interests  of  professionals  in  a  wide  range  of  settings  -­‐  academia,   business,  law,  health  and  medicine,  government,  etc.  The  unifying  factor  is  a   commitment  to  making  an  impact  on  the  quality  of  life  in  the  world.’   (http://www.sfaa.net)                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       77   I  am  purposeful  in  supplying  a  range  of  overlapping  nomenclature   for  those  laying  claim  to  ethnographic  methods  in  the  service  of  their   (non-­‐academic)  employers.  Meanwhile,  in  addition  to  those  sited  above,  I   have  also  found  the  following  representations  of  ethnographic  and/or   anthropological  work  for  business:  ‘corporate  anthropology’  (Cefkin  2012:   2)  and  ‘corporate  anthropologist’  (Malefyt  2009:  202);  ‘consumer   ethnography’  and  ‘branded  ethnographic  practices  in  consumer  research’   (Malefyt  2009:  201);  and  ‘professional  cultural  anthropologist’  and   ‘professional  ethnography’  (Powell  2015).  No  doubt  there  are  other   names,  or  soon  will  be.  Meanwhile,  among  trained  anthropologists  who,   due  to  their  work  on  business  contexts  I  would  describe  as  studying  up,   the  contrast  between  those  who  ‘study  businesses  as  sites  for   Anthropology’  (as  a  discipline)  versus  those  who  ‘work  for  business’  is   most  parsimoniously  defined  by  the  respective  labels  ‘anthropologist  of   business’  versus  ‘business  anthropologist’.  Meanwhile,  although  authors   of  articles  for  the  Journal  of  Business  Anthropology  come  from  both   communities,  it  generally  publishes  articles  by  academic  anthropologists   on  business-­‐related  topics,  i.e.,  written  by  anthropologists  of  business.       My  point  is  to  highlight  the  boundary  trouble  in  this  profusion  of   naming:  between  what  I  call  ‘anthropology  of  business’  and  those   working  for  businesses,  in  ‘business  anthropology’,  ‘corporate   anthropology’,  ‘professional  anthropology’,  ‘corporate  ethnography’,   ‘professional  ethnography’,  etc.  I  condense  what  I  have  suggested  above   in  noting  that  there  are  significant  differences  between  these  respective   communities’  approaches  where  it  comes  to,  a)  intent  regarding  the   gathering  of  knowledge,  b)  the  position  of  the  ethnographer  in  gaining   knowledge  and,  c)  the  dissemination  and  core  audience(s)  for  that   knowledge.  And  I  would  suggest  that  if  there  is  confusion  among   specialists  about  the  meanings  of  different  names  for  the  application  of   ethnographic  methods  in  business  contexts—when  the  fundamental   intent  of  work  among  those  who  do  ethnography  for  business,  and  those   who  study  businesses  ethnographically  as  sites  (for  academia)  is  so   different—this  important  distinction  is  even  more  confusing  for  general   Anthropology.  The  result,  I  believe,  is  that  in  general  Anthropology  it  is   thought  that  most  studies  of  businesses  by  anthropologists  are  not                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             17  There  is  a  notable  literature  in  Anthropology  animated  by  the  tensions   between  anthropologists  who  critique  the  politics  and  practices  of   ‘development’—as,  for  example,  a  neo-­‐colonial  exercise—and  anthropologists   who  use  anthropological  techniques  and/or  claim  anthropological  sensitivities  as   analytical  assets  in  providing  ‘assistance’  in  the  developing  world.  While  I  do  not   consider  that  literature  here,  the  discourse  between  ‘anthropologists  of   development’  and  ‘development  anthropologists’  should  be  pursued   comparatively  in  unpacking  the  similarly-­‐structured  tensions  between   anthropologists  who  study  businesses  academically,  as  research  sites,  and  those   using  ethnographic  methods  as  employees  of  businesses.       Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      78   academic  projects,  but  the  exercises  of  consultants  or  in-­‐house   employee/ethnographers.  This  is  suggested  by  academic  work  on  sites   that  are  perfectly  obviously  businesses,  but  use  different  nomenclature   from  Anthropology  of  Business.  For  instance,  there  is  robust  academic   work  in  Anthropology  of  Finance,  and  a  whole  plethora  of  research  at   sites  affiliated  with  businesses  under  the  rubric  of  Science  and   Technological  Studies  (STS).  Projects  in  Economic  Anthropology,  as  an   overarching  subfield  of  the  discipline,  meanwhile,  are  often  based  in  work   that  could  easily  be  called  Anthropology  of  Business.     The  ambivalence,  at  best,  toward  studies  of  business  by  the   discipline  of  Anthropology  is  driven  both  by  the  confused  naming  I  have   highlighted  above  and  by  the  dynamism  of  the  ‘practice’  communities   working  for  businesses  which  are,  perfectly-­‐justifiably,  formally   represented  within  the  American  Anthropology  Association  (AAA),  to  a   somewhat  lesser  extent  in  the  (British  Commonwealth-­‐based)   Association  of  Social  Anthropologists  (ASA),  and  elsewhere,  i.e.,  the   Society  for  Applied  Anthropology  (SfAA),  etc.  Meanwhile,  in  the  larger   move  toward  ‘relevance’  in  the  context,  it  must  be  said,  of  significant   declines  in  academic  employment,  the  management  of  the  AAA  constantly   advocates  a  larger  public  voice  for  anthropological  knowledge  as  well  as   the  role  of  anthropologists  in  non-­‐academic  work.  Some  university   Anthropology  departments  of  course  explicitly  emphasize  applied  work.   (Development  Anthropology  is  particularly  strong  in  the  UK,  for  instance,   with  its  intellectual  training  set  in  relation  to  the  Anthropology  of   Development,  as  outlined  in  Note  17.)  Implicitly,  among  those  working  in   the  discipline,  and  perhaps  occasioned  with  some  regret,  the  decline  in   opportunities  for  careers  in  academic  Anthropology  encourages   awareness  and  concern  regarding  the  practical,  non-­‐academic  use  of   anthropology.  These  are  all  perfectly  rational,  and  reasonable,  reactions   to  a  changing  environment.  However  the  scepticism  that  accompanies   perceptions  of  the  role  of  anthropology  with  regard  to  business  is   different  from  perceptions  of  Development  Anthropology  versus   Anthropology  of  Development.  In  my  view  this  comes  down  both  to  a   normalized,  if  thoroughly  myopic,  hostility  toward  ‘business’  among  left-­‐ leaning  anthropologists—that  tends  to  make  corporations  unpalatable   research  sites—and  to  problems  of  positionality  in  ethnographic  work  on   businesses.  The  former  may  take  care  of  itself  as  Anthropology  becomes   increasingly  engaged  with  analysis  of  corporations  and  other  formal   organizational  forms,  i.e.,  as  core  drivers  of  modern  capitalism  and,  so,  of   foundational  relevance  to  anthropologists’  political  concerns,  whatever   they  may  be.  The  latter,  however,  requires  a  serious  and  self-­‐conscious   engagement  with  method  as  epistemology  in  the  ethnography  of  business.         ‘Complicit’  attractions:  corporate  ethnography  and  the  potential   diversions  of  contemporary  theories  of  method  in  Anthropology                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       79   It  seems  to  me  that  in  much  of  what  I  call  corporate  ethnography,  as  a   catch-­‐all  for  ‘ethnography/anthropology  for  business’,  there  is  a   fundamental  lack  of  engagement  with  the  ethnographer’s  positionality  in   relation  to  the  conditions  under  which  the  work  is  being  conducted.  This   has  crucial  implications  for  its  production  of  anthropological  knowledge.   While  laying  claim  to  responsibility  for  ‘the  emergence  of  a  nascent  canon   of  corporate  ethnography’  (italics  mine)  (Cefkin  2009:  2),  I  am  concerned   that  these  ethnographers  do  not  acknowledge,  a)  their  de  facto  lack  of   structural  control  over  the  direction  of  their  work  and,  b)  their  lack  of   control  over  the  use  of  that  work,  i.e.  as  the  commissioned  property  of  the   firm.  These  structural  conditions  of  work  impact  basic  problems  of   positionality  and  often  lead  corporate  ethnographers  to  c)  thin  out  critical   detachment  in  their  interpretation  of  the  ethnographic  work  they   conduct.18  As  I  have  also  suggested,  such  problems  in  anthropological   relations  with  informants/  communities  are  sometimes  disguised   through  an  insinuation  of  anthropological  credibility  slipped  in  via   engagement  with  sophisticated  anthropological  theory.       The  parsimonious,  if  simplistic,  approach  among  corporate   ethnographers  in  addressing  these  concerns  is  to  state  frankly  the  limits   of  their  fieldwork:  the  audience  should  consider  the  work  for  what  it  is,   within  its  own  framework  of  production.  If  insufficient  for  some  purposes,                                                                                                                   18  In  his  concluding  chapter  of  Cefkin’s  impressive  edited  volume,  Ethnography   and  the  corporate  encounter  (Cefkin  2009),  Michael  M.J.  Fischer  discusses  the   work  of  corporate  ethnographers  comprising  the  rest  of  the  volume.  He  asks,     Could  corporate  anthropologists  ever  be  allowed  to  produce  the   equivalent  of  such  studies  of  the  biotech  industry  as  those  by  Barry  Werth,  Paul   Rabinow,  Kaushik  Sunder  Rajan,  or  Melinda  Cooper;  of  the  IT  world  such  as  those   of  Gabriella  Coleman,  Chris  Kelty,  or  Hal  Abelson,  Ken  Ledeen,  and  Harry  Lewis;   or  (from  the  legal  world)  Lawrence  Lessig  [sic];  or  of  the  financial  world  as  those   of  Donald  MacKenzie?  Or  is  that  request  less  in  conflict  just  with  NDAs  [non-­‐ disclosure  agreements],  and  rather  more  in  conflict  with  the  new  ethnographic   products  being  developed…?  (Fischer  2009:  236-­‐37)       Two  points  here.    First,  the  serious  and  highly  respected  anthropological   work  of  the  scholars  listed  by  Fischer  is  ‘Anthropology  of  Business’.  Although   studying  business  contexts  as  academics,  i.e.,  not  as  employees  of  those   businesses,  they  are  also  ‘corporate  ethnographers’,  at  least  in  the  common  sense   meaning  of  the  term.  They  just  do  not  wish  their  work  to  be  described  under   either  identifying  rubric.  As  I  have  explained  above,  ‘corporate  ethnography’  is   now  for-­‐profit  terrain,  a  problem  that,  I  maintain,  bleeds  into  the  comparatively   negative  perceptions  of  ‘Anthropology  of  Business’  in  the  academy.  Second,   elsewhere  in  his  chapter  Fischer  (2009:  232-­‐33)  misconstrues  non-­‐disclosure   agreements  (NDAs)  in  corporations  as  having  equivalent  effects  on  corporate   ethnographers’  work  as  North  American  universities’  Institutional  Review   Boards  (IRBs)—Ethics  Review  Boards  (ERBs)  in  the  UK—do  on  academics’   research  plans  and  results.  However,  he  is  correct  in  highlighting,  as  I  do,  the   centrality  of  corporate  control  over  the  output  of  corporate  ethnographers’   research  and  what  might  be  construed  as  the  resulting  limited  impact  it  enjoys  in   academic  Anthropology  at  present.     Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      80   ‘what  it  is’  is,  nonetheless,  a  plentiful  resource.  The  personal  and   intellectual  effects  (and  affects)  of  working  under  conditions  in  which,  for   example,  proprietary  control  over  information  allows  supposed-­‐ ethnographic  work  to  reproduce  the  ‘black  box’  of  business  contexts,  are  a   potentially  productive  route  to  unpacking  the  tensions  inherent  in  the   lifeworld  of  business.19  Auto-­‐ethnography  comes  with  its  own  package  of   analytic  difficulties—that  I  will  address  only  tangentially  here—but  there   is  no  reason  why  any  number  of  corporate  ethnographers,  perhaps  during   a  sabbatical  from  the  workplace,  or  between  jobs,  could  not  engage  in   what,  in  practice,  would  be  reflections  on  their  work  in  businesses  as   ‘anthropology  at  home’.     More  substantively  I  would  suggest  a  collective,  two-­‐pronged   analytical  tack  that  acknowledges  and  examines  businesses  as  familiar   organizational  forms  that  are,  on  the  one  hand,  closed,  bounded  or  ‘black   boxed’:  operations  that  serve  to  make  them  ‘foreign’  or  estranged  from   day-­‐to-­‐day  public  life,  except  for  their  appropriately-­‐processed  members   and  properly-­‐vetted  visitors.  These  would  be  combined  with  analyses   that,  on  the  other  hand,  unpack  both  the  penetration  of  many  businesses’   products  and  brands  into  day-­‐to-­‐day  public  experience  and   consciousness,  while  the  work  of  other  businesses—perhaps  most   businesses—goes  nearly  entirely  unnoticed  in  the  public  realm  but,   nonetheless,  is  likely  to  affect  us  all.     My  earlier  examples  of  the  unfortunate  mobilization  of  the  ‘brand’   of  ethnography  through  ‘technomediation’  are  not  representative  of  the   broader  community  of  corporate  ethnographers.  Many  are  trained   anthropologists,  fully  sensitive  to  the  emotional  and  intellectual  rigors  of   their  face-­‐  to-­‐  face  work  as  ethnographers.  Tracking,  as  suggested  above,   between  corporate  settings  and  within  an  active  self-­‐representing   community  with  a  particular  (ethnographic)  skill  set—e.g.,  their  formal   Ethnographic  Praxis  in  Industry  Conference  (EPIC)  group—they  are   sophisticated  operators,  positioned  to  intelligently  unpack  the  conditions   of  their  ethnographic  work  and  the  corporate  elaborations  that  surround   it.     That  stated  as  a  matter  of  encouragement  to  this  community,   given  the  intellectual  open-­‐endedness,  if  not  splintering,  across  the  last  30   years  of  Anthropology,  perhaps  it  is  perfectly  reasonable  that  such  work   is  not  undertaken  by  corporate  ethnographers.  As  discussed  above,   anxiety  among  anthropologists  regarding  the  colonial  roots  and  neo-­‐ colonial  implications  of  research  among  non-­‐Western/‘less  developed’   peoples  provoked,  along  with  an  often  guilty  political  consciousness,  a   crisis  of  representation  regarding  the  content,  style,  production  and                                                                                                                   19  Brun-­‐Cotton  (2009)  sensitively  outlines  the  ethical  problems  and,  thus,  the   interpersonal  tensions  entailed  in  her  consulting  work  for  corporations.                                                                                                                                                                                    Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       81   reception  of  anthropological  texts  themselves.  In  such  an  already-­‐highly-­‐ contested  representational  environment,  it  is  easy  enough  to  leave  the   stone  of  the  black  box  of  business  unturned,  leave  businesses’  culture(s)   of  secrecy,  secret.  At  least,  that  has  been  the  prevalent  approach  in   corporate  ethnography  to  date.       In  addition,  my  criticism  of  corporate  ethnographers  for   insufficiently  unpacking,  and  so  insufficiently  exposing  to  anthropological   scrutiny  the  corporate  contexts  in  which  they  work,  is  not  assisted  by   highly  theorized  discussion  in  Anthropology  that  explicitly  challenges   traditional  understandings  of  anthropologists’  ethnographic  work  with   informants.  In  an  important  intervention  that  specifically  deals  with   contemporary  modern  contexts  and,  so,  may  be  especially  relevant  to   those  working  in  or  on  businesses,  ‘complicity’  is  preferred  over  what  has   been  previously  understood  as  rapport  with  informants  (Marcus:  1997).   With  his  work  already  positioned  to  dislodge  previous  assumptions   regarding  anthropologists’  work,  i.e.,  the  influential  Writing  Culture   volume  (Clifford  and  Marcus  1986)  and  the  de  facto  movement  that   followed  it,  especially  in  North  American  Cultural  Anthropology,  Marcus’   deployment  of  ‘complicity’  is  surely  a  rhetorical  strategy,  a  provocation:   the  common  sense  understanding  of  complicity  clearly  generates   suspicion  and,  therefore,  a  discomforting  response,  perhaps  especially   among  anthropologists  who,  whatever  their  faults,  attempt  to  maintain  a   high  ethical  threshold.     ‘Complicity’  is  analyzed  by  Marcus  both  through  an  offering  for   the  reader’s  consideration  of  its  Oxford  English  Dictionary  definitions  and   in  reference  to  Geertz’  and  Rosaldo’s  canonical  work.  He  proposes  new   ethnographic  configurations  through  which  anthropologists  reposition   their  relations  with  informants  toward  one  of  collaboration  in  knowledge   production.  (Thus,  on  the  surface  of  it,  Marcus’  idea  would  seem  to  map   easily  onto  the  consultative  work  of  corporate  ethnographers.)  The  goal,   therefore,  is  not  the  erstwhile  one-­‐way  ‘sharing’  of  the  informant’s   knowledge  (of  his  or  her  own  society)  with  the  (visiting)  ethnographer,   however  collaborative  that  ‘coeval’  (Fabian  1983)  experience  might  be  for   anthropologist  and  informant  alike  (Rabinow  1977).  Rather,  for  Marcus,   informants  are  understood  as  persons  operating  in  lifeworlds  similarly   complex  to  that  of  highly  trained,  cosmopolitan  anthropologists  or,   perhaps,  depending  on  how  broadly  it  is  construed,  within  the  same   overarching  lifeworld,  e.g.,  long  term,  elite,  Western  educational   backgrounds,  etc.  Marcus  claims  that  the  anthropologist  and  his   informant,  as  two  de  facto  experts,  ‘complicitly’  align  themselves  as  an   insider  pair  together  confronting  the  outside  world,  articulated  as  a  ‘third’   (Marcus  1997).  The  external  ‘third’  world,  amorphous  and  shifting,   generates  anxiety  and  is  possibly  threatening:  it  seems  to  be  experienced   as  a  form  of  postmodern  anomie.  In  any  case,  the  core  point  is  that   knowledge  of  the  ‘third’  is  an  outcome,  or  a  fabrication,  of  the  relations  of   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      82   the  pair.  As  such,  the  complicit  co-­‐production  of  the  outside,  ‘third’  world,   or  parts  of  it,  seems  suggestively  therapeutic—the  external  ‘third’  could   certainly  be  a  fantasy—if,  unlike  therapy’s  typical  professional  form  (as  a   quasi-­‐confessional  space),  it  generates  knowledge  through  the  relations   of  two  parties  coming  to  this  process  as  presumed  equals.  (I  believe  the   point  is  that  the  privacy,  and  so  the  intimacy,  of  the  pair’s  joint  work  in   confronting  or  producing  the  ‘third’  encourages  the  complicity  of  the   relationship.20)     Perhaps  Marcus’  exploration  of  complicity  is  an  early  move   seeking  to  socialize,  through  externalization,  the  erstwhile  internal  world   of  the  reflexive,  highly  self-­‐conscious,  anthropologist  into,  e.g.,  recursive   relations  with  informants.  That  is,  a  revival  as  well  as  an  extension  of   anthropologists’  traditional,  deep-­‐seated  social  relations  with  informants.   In  this,  my  own  conceptualization  of  the  precursors  to  this  extension,  the   ‘traditional’  anthropologist,  through  fieldwork  in  faraway  climes,  i.e.,   extreme  commitment  to  personal  displacement,  was  preoccupied  with   the  ‘Other’,  and  perhaps  at  risk  of  losing  himself  in  his  social  relations   with  his  interlocutors’  lifeworld.  (Thus  the  warning  to  never  ‘go  native’.)   In  some  quarters,  i.e.,  Cultural  Anthropology,  this  self-­‐other  boundary   was,  perhaps  inadvertently,  made  more  explicit  in  the  work  of  the   ‘reflexive’  anthropologist.  Here  the  anthropologist  would  indulge,  rather   than  repress,  the  personal,  private  emotional  labor  of  field  experience,   indeed,  in  its  more  narcissistic  forms,  becoming  self-­‐obsessed,  while   also—more  helpfully—remaining  aware  of  the  political  positionality  of   his  work  across  its  entire  trajectory:  from  access  to,  work  in  and  later   representations  of  ‘the  field’.     Now  the  extension.  Unlike  the  traditional  anthropologist,  who  is   apparently  obsessed  by  the  ‘Other’,  the  ‘complicit’  anthropologist  need   not  lose  himself,  nor  adopt  the  self-­‐engrossed  attributes  of  the  reflexive   anthropologist,  but  should  resist  the  ‘Other’,  conjoining  himself  with  the   reflexivity  of  his  similarly-­‐positioned  informant  vis-­‐à-­‐vis  an  othered   ‘third’.  In  a  later  articulation  along  these  lines,  informant-­‐collaborators   complicit  with  anthropologists  are  themselves  granted  the  status  of   quasi-­‐  or  ‘para-­‐’  ethnographers  (Marcus  2000).  (Or,  more  simply,   particular  artifacts  become  ‘para-­‐ethnographic’  and,  so,  worthy  of  our   attentions—for  example,  ‘anecdotal’  comments,  in  this  case  in  the   minutes  of  formal  meetings  of  bank  officials—as  they  suggest  the   ‘intuitive’  ‘structures  of  feeling’  typical  of  anthropologists’  sensitivities   (Holmes  and  Marcus  2006).)  Positioned  in  broadly  overlapping  worlds  to   anthropologists,  para-­‐ethnographers  are  serious,  sensitive  and  thinking                                                                                                                   20  If  so,  albeit  moving  away  from  our  common  understanding  of  expertise,   perhaps  the  less  this  joint  work  is  able  to  identify  reality  in  the  outside  world,  or   have  it  confirmed  elsewhere,  the  more  the  complicit  relationship  would  be   reinforced?                                                                                                                                                                                  Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       83   people  who  are,  similarly,  coping  with  the  ‘outside’  over  the  long  term.  It   seems  that  in  their  relations  with  anthropologists  they  are  effectively   ethnographers  in  the  making,  just  waiting  to  break  out  of  their  shells.  (Or,   perhaps,  given  the  proliferation  of  ethnographic  methods  generally,  the   anthropologist  is  no  longer  required  at  all.)       In  any  case,  so  far,  the  several  ethnographic  projects  so   operationalized  indeed  do  unfold  with  collaborators  positioned  similarly   to  that  of  anthropologists  vis-­‐à-­‐vis  their  own  societies:  nearly  all   Westerners,  they  are  bankers,  scions  of  wealthy  American  families,   European  politicians,  scientists,  artists,  architects  and  civil  servants.   Marcus  acknowledges  these  persons  as  ‘experts  with  shared,  discovered,   and  negotiated  critical  sensibilities’  (Marcus  2000)  similar  to   anthropologists.  Although  he  makes  little  of  it—perhaps  because  he  is   aware  that  many  anthropologists  would  be  embarrassed  to  admit  to  such   a  status—moving  through  the  world  as  highly  educated,   cosmopolitan/metropolitan  types  (albeit,  no  doubt,  far  better  paid  than   anthropologists),  para-­‐ethnographers  enjoy  positions  of  significant   authority  in  their  own  society:  they  are,  like  us,  elites.  Pushing  this  thread   even  further,  Riles  articulates  her  work  with  financial  regulators  as   ‘…suggest[ing]  ways  of  thinking  about  problems  of  concern  to  them  and   ways  of  engaging  their  various  publics,  produced  recursively  and   relationally,  that  at  once  strike  at  the  heart  of  what  matters  to  them  and   yet  would  not  have  been  thinkable  outside  the  ethnographic   conversation….  [A]n  ethnographic  sensitivity  can  provide  venues  for   market  governance  and  a  professional  life  worth  living,  to  making   proposals  for  how  financial  markets  might  be  governed  (Riles  2011:  6-­‐7)’.   Such  configurations  of  relations  between  anthropologists  and  complicit   collaborators,  as  erstwhile  ‘informants’,  sound  remarkably  like  the  sort  of   private  interactions  that,  as  ordinary,  if  elite,  modern  persons,  we  seek   out,  and  pay  for,  from  any  number  of  knowledgeable  persons  from  whom   we  require  professional  advice:  physicians,  tax  accountants,  therapists,   business  advisors,  dentists,  etc.  ‘Ethnographer’  as  specialist  consultant   with  a  broad  remit.     The  risks  of  the  para-­‐ethnographic  to  corporate  ethnography   While  I  have  discussed  some  of  Marcus’  interesting  provocations  across   the  last  couple  of  decades,  by  no  means  is  my  elaboration  of  ‘new   ethnography’  exhaustive:  that  is  for  another  context.  After  all,  here  we  are   unpacking  the  problems  of  positionality  among  corporate  ethnographers.   The  point,  rather,  is  that  the  problematics  of  corporate  ethnography,  and   the  positionality  of  corporate  ethnographers,  run  parallel  with  techniques   some  anthropologists  are  suggesting  regarding  ethnographic  complicity   with  elite  informants  in  positions  of  authority.  Indeed,  in  my  reading   through  the  work  of  corporate  ethnographers,  as  well  as  listening  to  their   Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      84   (academic)  talks  and,  indeed,  getting  to  know  them,  I  have  been  surprised   that  they  seem  not  to  have  acknowledged,  evoked  or,  possibly,  embraced   the  move  to  collaborative/‘complicit’  ethnography  advocated  in  some   corners  of  Anthropology.       Alas,  while  fully  admitting  that  I  may  have  missed  something   earlier,  I  have  discovered  that  recently  this  has  begun  to  be  discussed  in   the  community  of  corporate  ethnographers.  Without  wanting  to  make  too   much  of  a  project  that  is  clearly  in  progress,  I  raise  the  interesting  case  of   a  PhD-­‐trained  anthropologist  now  ‘…work[ing]  for  a  strategy  and  design   firm…  [as]  a  professional  cultural  anthropologist  experienced  in  retail   innovation  and  branding  efforts  for  major  food  retailer  companies   (Powell  2015).’  Presumably  working  pro  bono,  Powell  commendably   ‘assembled  a  team  of  experienced  retail  designers  with  whom  [he]  had   professional  relationships  to  work  alongside  community  development   experts  already  at  work  on  a  small  market  makeover  project’  of  a  corner   store  in  a  poor,  and  mainly  Hispanic,  South  Los  Angeles  neighbourhood.   He,  thus,  ‘helped  facilitate  an  exchange  of  ideas  between   professional/corporate  food  retail  discourse—which  largely  lacked  an   awareness  of  how  to  affect  the  health  of  low-­‐income  communities—and   food  justice  discourse’.  In  addition,  in  due  course,  Powell  serendipitously   encountered  an  anthropologist  who  was  working  on  the  food  justice   movement  in  Los  Angeles  and  decided  to  ‘form  [with  her]  an   ethnographic  collaborative  team  to  study  the  project’.       The  project  is  evidently  ‘doing  good’  and,  of  course,  is   intellectually  interesting  in  its  own  right.  What  I  want  to  highlight  are  the   multiple  roles  that  Powell  plays  and,  indeed,  celebrates  in  this  one   context,  including  his  control  over  the  production  of  that  very  nexus.  That   is,  while  mobilizing  his  expertise  initially  as  a  food  retail  discourse   specialist,  he  states,  ‘I  also  had  the  ability  to  create  an  ethnographic  field   site,  as  well  as  the  ability  to  ethnographically  study  it.  [Thus]  in  my   capacity  as  a  key  informant  (to  my  own  project),  I  am  arguably  a  para-­‐ ethnographer  who  is  co-­‐creating  ethnographic  analysis.’  Over  time  Powell   continued  his  specialist  retail  consultations,  and  the  redesigned  shop  is   apparently  a  success.  Meanwhile,  as  the  ethnographic  work  on  the  site  he   has  himself  created  is  still  unfolding,  we  do  not  yet  know  about  the   entirety  of  the  project,  which,  after  all,  is  perhaps  meant  to  be   disaggregated.  This  process  further  suggests,  however,  questions   regarding  the  analytic  efficacy  claimed  for  ‘the  multiple  roles  inhabit[ed]   in  an  ethnography  and  redesign  project’  unfolding  in  the  same  space.     I  return  to  concerns  regarding  the  possible  loss  of  anthropological   knowledge  in  the  larger  move  toward  complicit,  para-­‐ethnographic   collaborations  that  I  raised  about  Marcus’  initiatives.  Powell  links  the   following  statement  about  the  rise  of  para-­‐ethnography  to  the  work  of  his   corporate  ethnographer  colleagues  who  ‘…understand  well  and  engage  in   [work],  either  as  consultants  to  client  groups  or  positioned  inside  of                                                                                                                                                                                Sedgwick  /  Complicit  Positioning       85   larger  organizations  and  corporations’  and  who,  as  discussed  above,   organize  themselves  publicly  under  the  aegis  of  EPIC,  the  website  on   which  Powell’s  article  appears.  He  states:  ‘[f]rom  technology  and  finance   to  consumer-­‐focused  industries  and  the  non-­‐profit  sector,  a  general  trend   toward  diversification  and  collaboration  is  prevalent…[with]…  these   processes…  increasingly  including  experts  with  “para-­‐ethnographic”   sensibilities—that  is,  people  who  think,  act  or  analyze  culture,   community,  identity  and  social  behaviors  in  ways  similar  to   anthropologists,  but  who  may  or  may  not  necessarily  have  any  formal   academic  training  in  anthropology.’  I  would  ask,  however,  in  considering   the  prospects  for  para-­‐ethnography,  if  authority  among  anthropologists  is   derived  from  their  sensitive  deployment  of  substantive  ethnography,  do   we  want  to  give  up  claims  on  this  expertise  quite  so  easily?       Conclusion:  reverse  infusing  the  lifeworld  of  corporations     Finally,  rather  than  a  sideshow,  the  tensions  with  Anthropology   generated  by  the  work  of  corporate  ethnographers—in  studying  up,   down  and  sideways  in  businesses—confront  in  altogether  refreshing   ways  the  problems  generated  by  the  ‘crisis  of  representation’  and  its   methodological  extensions.  Where  ethnographers  are  subordinates  to   informants,  as  is  typical  of  research  in  business  settings,  neo-­‐colonial   angst  might  be  put  entirely  to  the  side.  On  the  other  hand,  this  apparent   inversion  of  what  is  thought  of  as  the  traditional  informant-­‐ anthropologist  condition  allows  for  interesting  reassessments  of   anthropologists’  work  with  interlocutors,  and  their  work  with  us,  past   and  present.  Thus  the  potential  exists  for  corporate  ethnographers  to   speak  to  new  formations  in  informant-­‐ethnographer  relations.     The  relevance  of  unpacking  the  critical  role  of  businesses  to  our   contemporary  modern  condition  cannot  go  underestimated.  Rather  than   worrying  about  anthropology-­‐at-­‐home  and  the  suggested  loss  of  the   efficacy  through  estrangement  typical  of  traditional  anthropological   sites—working  with  ‘others’  in  foreign  spaces  and,  in  the  process,   eventually  making  the  strange  familiar—I  would  suggest  that  the   questions  raised  by  that  problem  be  inverted  to  deepen  our  insights.  That   is,  we  engage  the  really  hard  task  of  making  our  familiar  strange.  The   work  of  corporations  is  entirely  infused  into  our  contemporary  condition.   Are  we  not,  in  fact,  estranged  from  reality  in  imagining  our  modern  lives   as  unfettered  by  corporations?  Indeed  the  fantasy  of  our  individual   efficacy,  and  freedom,  may  be  the  most  important  work  these   organizations  perform.  Understanding  that  our  resistance  to  the  effects  of   modern  corporations  is  porous  at  best,  better  that  we  get  inside  this   problem  through  fieldwork  of  ourselves  in  the  here  and  now.  And  better   still  if  we  do  that  through  conducting  substantive 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https://www.epicpeople.org/the-­‐para-­‐ethnographic-­‐trajectories-­‐of-­‐ professional-­‐ethnography.     Rabinow,  P.  1977  Reflections  on  fieldwork  in  Morocco.  Berkeley:   University  of  California  Press.   Riles,  A.  2011  Collateral  knowledge:  legal  reasoning  in  the  financial   markets.  Chicago:  University  of  Chicago  Press.   Rosaldo,  R.  1989a  Culture  and  truth:  the  remaking  of  social  analysis.   Boston:  Beacon  Press.   Rosaldo,  R.  1989b  ‘Imperialist  nostalgia.’  In  R.  Rosaldo  Culture  and  truth:   the  remaking  of  social  analysis,  pp.  68-­‐87.  Boston:  Beacon  Press.   Sedgwick,  M.W.  2007  Globalisation  and  Japanese  organisational  culture:   an  ethnography  of  a  Japanese  corporation  in  France.  London:  Routledge.       Society  for  Applied  Anthropology  http://www.sfaa.net.   Starn,  O.  (ed.)  2015  Writing  culture  and  the  life  of  anthropology.  Chapel   Hill:  Duke  University  Press.   Stocking,  G.W.  (ed.)  1974  The  shaping  of  American  anthropology,  1883-­‐ 1911:  a  Franz  Boas  reader.  New  York:  Basic  Books.     Stocking,  G.W.  1987  Victorian  anthropology.  New  York:  Free  Press.   Wallerstein,  I.  1979  The  capitalist  world  economy.  Cambridge:  Cambridge   University  Press   Wright,  S.  (ed.)  1994  Anthropology  of  organizations.  London  and  New   York:  Routledge.     Journal  of  Business  Anthropology,  6(1),  Spring  2017      88                                             Mitchell  W  Sedgwick  has  conducted  fieldwork  among  minorities,  the   aged,  and  in  rural  communities  in  Japan  but,  from  the  early  1990s,  has   focused  ethnographically  on  Japanese  multinational  corporations’   headquarters  and  subsidiaries  in  Japan  and  abroad,  including  long  term   projects  in  Thailand,  France,  and  on  the  US-­‐Mexican  border.  Current   fieldwork  includes  a  factory  community’s  ‘recovery’  from  Japan’s  March   11,  2011  earthquake  and  tsunami.  More  broadly,  Mitch  engages   anthropological  theory  and  methodology  in  relation  to  the  study  of  formal   organizations.  He  holds  a  BA  and  a  PhD  in  Anthropology,  respectively,   from  UCSC  and  the  University  of  Cambridge,  where  he  was  attached  to   King’s  College,  and  has  an  MALD  from  The  Fletcher  School,  Tufts.    Mitch   has  held  positions  at  Harvard,  University  of  Tokyo,  Cambridge,  and   Oxford  Brookes  University,  and  had  an  earlier  career  as  an  organizational   anthropologist  at  The  World  Bank.  He  is  currently  Senior  Fellow  in  the   Department  of  Anthropology  at  the  LSE.