TYPE
General Commentary
08 January 2024
10.3389/frai.2023.1279759
PUBLISHED
DOI
OPEN ACCESS
Commentary: How to have
agency in a pandemic
EDITED BY
Jussi Karlgren,
Spotify AB, Sweden
REVIEWED BY
Hua Zhu,
University College London, United Kingdom
Olga Zayts,
Hong Kong Baptist University, Hong Kong
SAR, China
*CORRESPONDENCE
Rodney H. Jones*
Department of English Language and Applied Linguistics, University of Reading, Reading,
United Kingdom
KEYWORDS
affect, agency, COVID-19, discourse, response-ability
Rodney H. Jones
[email protected]
18 August 2023
06 December 2023
PUBLISHED 08 January 2024
RECEIVED
ACCEPTED
CITATION
Jones RH (2024) Commentary: How to have
agency in a pandemic.
Front. Artif. Intell. 6:1279759.
doi: 10.3389/frai.2023.1279759
COPYRIGHT
© 2024 Jones. This is an open-access article
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Commons Attribution License (CC BY). The use,
distribution or reproduction in other forums is
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No use, distribution or reproduction is
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A Commentary on
Introducing the keyconcept approach to the analysis of language: the
case of REGULATION in COVID-19 diaries
by Robinson, J. A., Sandow, R. J., and Piazza, R. (2023). Front. Artif. Intell. 6:1176283.
doi: 10.3389/frai.2023.1176283
A metaphor analysis of older adults’ lived experience of household
isolation during COVID-19
by Wilding, E., Bartl, S., Littlemore, J., Clark, M., and Brooke, J. (2023). Front. Commun. 7:1015562.
doi: 10.3389/fcomm.2022.1015562
COVID-19 telephone contact tracing in Flanders as a “contested” new
genre of conversation: discrepancies between interactional practice and
media image
by Bafort, A.-S., De Timmerman, R., Van de Geuchte, S., Slembrouck, S., and Vandenbroucke, M.
(2023). Front. Commun. doi: 10.3389/fcomm.2022.965226
“We are at war”: the military rhetoric of COVID-19 in cross-cultural
perspective of discourses
by Giorgis, P., Semenets,
doi: 10.3389/frai.2023.978096
O.,
and
Todorova,
B.
(2023).
Front.
Artif.
Intell.
“Everything will be all right (?)”: discourses on COVID-19 in the Italian
linguistic landscape
by Bagna, C., and Bellinzona, M. (2023). Front. Commun. doi: 10.3389/fcomm.2023.1085455
“Snake flu,” “killer bug,” and “Chinese virus”: a corpus-assisted critical
discourse analysis of lexical choices in early UK press coverage of the
COVID-19 pandemic
by Kania, U. (2022). Front. Artif. Intell. doi: 10.3389/frai.2022.970972
Imagining the city in lockdown: place in the COVID-19 self-recordings of
the Lothian Diary Project
by Cowie, C., Hall-Lew, L., Elliott, Z., Klingler, A., Markl, N., and McNulty, S. J. (2022). Front. Artif.
Intell. doi: 10.3389/frai.2022.945643
Authority and solidarity on the Estonian COVID-19 signs: in line with the
government’s guidelines, we ask you to wear a mask
by Trage, I., and Pikksaar, A. (2023). Front. Artif. Intell. doi: 10.3389/frai.2022.1000188
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
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Jones
10.3389/frai.2023.1279759
Introduction
mask wearing, Bafort et al. (2023) addressing mediatized debates
about personal freedom and privacy associated with COVID-19
telephone contact tracing, Kania (2022) discussing how practices
of naming COVID-19 in media discourse revealed underlying
ideological projects to assign responsibility for the pandemic to
radicalized others, Giorgis et al. (2023) documenting the ways
metaphors of warfare used by the governments functioned both
as calls to action and constraints on agency in different countries,
and Banga and Bellinzona (2023) exploring how municipal spaces
became arenas in which negotiations among regulatory and
transgressive discourses played out. In all of these treatments of the
pandemic, discourse is presented as the primary means through
which agency was claimed and constrained, power was exercised
and resisted, and responsibility was assigned and denied. At the
same time, across these different treatments of the pandemic,
agency is not always conceptualized in exactly the same way.
Sometimes the political dimensions of power and resistance are
emphasized, sometimes psychological aspects of self- efficacy
are the focus, and sometimes the ways agency emerged as an
interactional accomplishment are highlighted.
Agency, of course, is itself a highly contested concept within
the social sciences, with scholars debating whether it is necessarily
“human, individual, collective, intentional, or conscious” (Ahearn,
2001, p. 130), arguing about the factors that amplify and constrain it
such as privilege (Maxwell and Aggleton, 2013), material conditions
(Kirchhoff, 2009), access to resources and other forms of capital
(Bourdieu, 1977; Sewell, 1992), individual competencies (Bandura,
2006), or discursive regimes of knowledge/power (Foucault, 1995;
Bleiker, 2003), and the degree to which it aligns with other concepts
such as “freedom,” “control,” “rights,” and “responsibilities”. I
will begin my discussion with Duranti’s (2004, p. 453) “working
definition”, which, although not entirely uncontroversial, covers
most of the key dimensions of agency addressed in these papers:
The eight articles in this Research Topic touch upon the many
disruptions to people’s lives caused the COVID-19 pandemic, from
the ways mandated lockdowns constrained their mobility and
forced them to formulate new ways of interacting with friends
and loved ones, to the new practices that they had to incorporate
into their daily lives such as mask wearing and contract reporting,
to the altered relations of power and (dis)trust that developed
between citizens and their governments. They talk about how the
very space they inhabited changed around them—cities becoming
silent, the spaces in which they operated shrinking, and the space
between bodies suddenly becoming something to be measured and
monitored. They also discuss they ways time became distorted
as the routines that people had previously used to order their
movements through life were suddenly interrupted, and their
ability to plan for the future was curtailed.
All of these social and material disruptions, as these articles
illustrate, also involved disruptions in discourse: new terminology
had to be learned, new conversational routines had to be mastered,
new regulations had to be communicated and complied with, and
new forms of storytelling had to be called upon to help people
explain to themselves and to one another what they were going
through. Closely related to these discursive disruptions, however,
were more fundamental disruptions to agency. On the one hand,
the new discursive regimes that developed around the pandemic,
with their terminology and regulations and routines, played a major
part in robbing people of their sense of agency. On the other hand,
as their ability to control what was happening in their environments
seemed to dwindle with each new media report and each new
government policy—the words they used, the conversations they
had, the ways they responded to official discourses, and the
stories they told become even more central in helping them to
maintain some sense of autonomy and authority over their affairs.
The pandemic did not just transform the ways in which people
affected and were affected by other people and things around them,
but raised more fundamental questions about the very nature of
action, autonomy and accountability, as well as questions about
the role of discourse in making sense of and navigating a world
of shifting power relations and shrinking possibilities. In this brief
commentary I would like to explore the different perspectives on
the relationship between discourse and agency reflected in these
eight articles and what they can teach us as individuals and as
societies about how to have (and not to have) agency during
a pandemic.
Some of these articles address issues of agency explicitly.
Robinson et al. (2023), for example, examine how agency the loss
of agency was lexically and grammatically encoded in the way
people talked about regulation; Wilding et al. (2023) show how
older adults in isolation negotiated their loss of agency through
their use of metaphors, and Cowie et al. (2022) describe the ways
people coped with the disrupted relationship between structure and
agency that came from forced immobility through the production
of chronotopic discourse. In others, attention to the issue of agency
is more implicit, though no less central, Tragel and Pikksaar
(2022), for instance, focusing on how relationships of authority
and solidarity were constructed in regulatory discourses about
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
Agency is here understood as the property of those entities
(i) that have some degree of control over their own behavior, (ii)
whose actions in the world affect other entities’ (and sometimes
their own), and (iii) whose actions are the object of evaluation
(e.g., in terms of their responsibility for a given outcome).
What is useful about this definition is that it touches on
agency as an individual’s “capacity” to act (tying it to notions
such as freedom and autonomy), as a social phenomenon whereby
individuals affect and are affected by other entities (people,
institutions, other organisms), and as the basis for the production
of accounts regarding who or what is responsible for particular
outcomes or states of affairs. Crucially, it is from such accounts that
we come to understand how we got to where we are and imagine
where we might go in the future. It is also from these accounts that
we come to construct our worlds “moral” or “rational” places.
As a linguistic anthropologist, Duranti also provides a good
starting point for understanding the relationship between language
and agency. Language, he says, is related to agency in two ways.
First, it is a tool for the enactment of agency. Simply by speaking,
Duranti argues, we exercise agency, projecting our intentions out
into the world. Agency is also inherent in the way we use language
to divide up the word and create relationships between people and
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In what follows I will draw on all three of these perspectives
on agency to explore what these papers have to teach us about
“how to have agency in a pandemic”. In the next section I will
consider what these papers tell us about how agency is encoded
and enacted in language and discourse—through, for example, the
grammatical structures and metaphors we use to talk about viruses
and diseases. In the section after that I will explore how these papers
formulate the relationship between structure and agency though
their treatment of concepts such as power, regulation, resistance
and responsibility. In the following section I will take up the ways
these papers, often more implicitly than explicitly, offer insights
into the more distributed and affective dimensions of agency. I will
end by arguing that, while each of these perspectives on agency
opens a valuable window on how people acted, reacted and were
acted upon during the COVID-19 pandemic, they fail to provide
a viable roadmap for “how to have agency” in the next pandemic
in ways that more effectively address the tensions, conflicts and
contradictions described in these papers. For this, I will argue,
we need to turn to new conceptualizations of agency that are
developing within education studies (see, e.g., Biesta, 2006; Ingold,
2017; Geerts, 2021) in which agency is less a matter of acting and
more a matter of expanding the possibilities for action, less a matter
of being and more a matter of becoming, and less a matter of
“taking responsibility” and more a matter of increasing our capacity
to respond moment by moment to situations and to those around
us in ways that are open and present.
objects in it, the way we name things and frame situations. And, of
course, as Austin (1976) has taught us, language is also one of the
main tools we have at our disposal to do things—from directing
others to act through commands and requests, to committing
ourselves to action through promises, to actually changing reality
through pronouncements of various sorts.
Just as important, though, is language’s role in representing
agency. Indeed, notions about if and how agency can be assigned
to different entities in the world is encoded in our language, and,
notably, different languages come with different opportunities for
encoding agency. Language is also the means by which we make
ourselves and others accountable, by which we attribute blame, take
responsibility, claim rights, and perform all of the other evaluative
work associated with agency.
It would, however, as Duranti points out, be a mistake to
consider these two relationships between language and agency as
separate. They are, in fact, mutually constitutive. “The enacting of
agency”, he writes (2004, p. 454), “its coming into being—relies
on and simultaneously affects the encoding—how human action is
depicted through linguistic means”, a point that is made abundantly
clear in a number of the papers in this collection, from the way
the encoding of agency on public signs (see Tragel and Pikksaar,
2022; Banga and Bellinzona, 2023) provides people with the means
to manage social relationships and enact or resist regulations, to
the ways the encoding of agency in people’s everyday talk can
sometimes function as a means of reclaiming agency or challenging
those who seek to constrain us (see Cowie et al., 2022; Robinson
et al., 2023; Wilding et al., 2023).
A focus on language alone, however, is not sufficient to fully
appreciate the complex, socially situated negotiations of agency
described by the authors of these papers, most of whom align
more with discourse analytical approaches in which agency is
not just something that is encoded in language, and not just
a matter of an individual’s capacity to act, but rather is an
interactional accomplishment that is as “intrinsically historical
and situated” (Robinson et al., 2023) deeply embedded in
social practices (Bourdieu, 1977; Giddens, 1984) and contingent
on relationships of power, which are, in part, produced and
reproduced through discourse (Foucault, 1995). This perspective
is better captured by Ahearn (2001, p. 112, emphasis mine)
more concise definition of agency as “the socioculturally mediated
capacity to act”. It is this sociocultural mediation manifested in
things like government policies, genres of interaction, linguistic
landscapes, and life histories that these authors are particularly
concerned with.
At the same time, there is also a way to read the findings
of these studies through more post-human and new materialist
perspectives in which agency is not enacted through the neat
binary of “structure and agency” but rather through complex
“flows of human and non-human vitality” (Gilmore, 2012). Such
perspectives urge us to see agency as dynamically distributed
among people, objects, technologies, institutions and organisms
(such as viruses) (Latour, 2007), and newly emergent in every action
and interaction (Barad, 2007). They also invite us to go beyond
rational and representational concepts such as intentionality and
governmentality and engage with agency more as a matter of affect,
the immanent, transpersonal capacity for bodies to affect and be
affected by one another (Massumi, 2002).
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
Naming and framing
The dual role of language in both enacting and representing
agency is particularly salient when it comes to talk of health and
illness, especially where the forces that are causing illness are often
invisible and/or contested. Pandemics are not “biomedical facts”
so much as sets of “understandings, relationships, and actions
that are shaped by diverse kinds of knowledge, experience, and
power relations, and that are constantly in flux” (Brown, 1995,
p. 37). This shaping takes place, according to Brown, through
discourse—primarily thorough practices of “naming and framing”.
Naming is perhaps the most elemental way that humans seek to
exercise agency over nature. By giving things names, we distinguish
them from other things and make them concrete “objects” that
can be analyzed, discussed, debated, and hopefully, controlled.
But sometimes naming can create confusion and conflict rather
than clarity, especially when the status of what we are trying to
name is itself unclear. Often different names come refer to the
same thing, or separate names need to be assigned to different
dimensions of that thing. New diseases, especially when they reach
epidemic proportions, are inevitably accompanied by what Banga
and Bellinzona (2023) refer to as “terminological pandemics” or
what Treichler (1999), writing about AIDS, called “epidemics of
signification”, that spread as scientists, politicians, journalist and
ordinary people try to make sense of the new malady and develop a
language with which to talk about it.
The most important thing about naming, especially as it relates
to agency, is that it is never ideologically neutral. Not only does
the way we divide up the world and assign labels to the objects in
it amplify and constrain possibilities for action, but naming is also
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the central process through which we assign responsibility (praise
or blame) for actions that have occurred. In other words, naming
is always to some degree a political act. This is the key point that
Kania (2022) makes in her corpus-assisted analysis of the names
used to refer to COVID-19 and the virus that causes it (technically
SARS-CoV-2) in British newspapers. What is interesting, is first
of all, the fact that the names associated with COVID that are
considered “inappropriate” by the World Health Organization
because they are thought to incite fear or hatred do so primarily
though the way they directly or indirectly assign agency—terms
such as “killer bug” or “deadly virus” assigning agency to the virus
itself, and terms such as Wuhan virus or Chinese virus implying
that responsibility lay with a certain group of people. Even more
interesting is the way practices of naming can themselves become
acts of provocation, the use of “inappropriate” names functioning
as ways to attract attention, signal political affiliation, or hail certain
kinds of audiences. Kania notes, for instance that “inappropriate”
names were particularly prevalent in headlines, as well as in
tabloid newspapers. Another obvious example is then President
Trump’s pointed use of the term “China virus” and attacks on
those who called him out on it. Where agency is sometimes most
powerfully enacted and encoded, then, is not in practices of naming
themselves, but in metapragmatic discourse about naming (on the
part of the WHO, politicians, and journalist). In Kania’s data this
can be seen in the way some journalists attribute “inappropriate”
naming practices to others as a way of making them accountable,
while others embrace “inappropriate” naming practices as a way to
accuse those who negatively evaluate these practices of weakness or
“political correctness”.
Of course, words do not exist in isolation. It is the way words
are grammaticalized—that is, brought into relationships with other
words—and the ways they are enmeshed in broader networks of
associations, ideas, stories, and discourses, that make them such
powerful tools for enacting and encoding agency. This is why
Robinson et al. (2023) approach of “concept mapping” turns out
to be such a useful way to interrogate the relationship between
language and agency in the context of the pandemic. Their analysis
of a corpus of 12 May Diaries from the Mass Observation Project
reveals, perhaps not surprisingly, that REGULATION was a key
concept in people’s talk about COVID, manifested in their use
of a cluster of interrelated words such as limitation, restriction,
clampdown, freeze, timing, and coordination. The important
thing, they point out, is not just how much people talked about
REGULATION, but how REGULATION was grammaticalized in
ways that reveal diarists’ feelings of reduced agency. Examples of
this include the objectification of actions through nominalizations
(such as “recruitment freeze”), the use of passive voice (such as
“the role has been suspended”), the use of agentless existential
clauses (e.g., there has been no evidence of proper coordination),
and the use of phrases (such as “complete uncertainty”) which
lack reference to any particular agent or actor. When agents were
named, they tended to be either politicians (e.g., Boris Johnson)
or institutions (such as universities, large grocery suppliers). But
even actions that could presumably be attributed to institutional
actors such as the Government were often expressed in ways that
hid responsibility for the action (e.g., the “easing of restrictions”).
It is not so much that people constructed themselves as victims
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
of other people (or entities) that were imposing restrictions on
them, but rather that restrictions themselves seemed to take on
“a life of their own” (Robinson et al., 2023). The key insight here
is how the pandemic, for these particular diarists, and for people
more generally, resulted in a pervasive “de-agentivation” of social
actors (van Leeuwen, 2008, p. 23–74), a sense that nobody was in
control of anything, which engendered a kind of collective gesture
of surrender in the way people talked about the situation.
One of the most powerful ways that language (re)frames
people’s understanding and experience of agency is in the use
of metaphor. Metaphorical language was so pervasive during the
pandemic that it is touched upon, at least implicitly, in every one
of these articles, Bafort et al. (2023), for instance, talking about
how journalists discredited government responses to COVID by
comparing them to failed responses to terrorist attacks, Kania
(2022) discussing how different “inappropriate” names for the virus
connected it to different domains of experience (e.g., animals and
geography), and Banga and Bellinzona (2023) describing some
of the visual metaphors that featured in the linguistic landscape
of Italy during lockdowns. It is in the papers by Giorgis et al.
and Wilding et al., however, that metaphorical language is taken
up most explicitly and directly linked to issues of power, control
and agency.
The prevalence of metaphors of war in the public discourse
surrounding the pandemic, especially that emanating from official
sources, has been widely studied (e.g., Panzeri et al., 2021; Semino,
2021; Benzi and Novarese, 2022), and these studies have found
that the relationship between such metaphors and people’s sense
of agency can be complex. On the one hand, war metaphors
can increase people’s sense of collective agency by holding up
the possibility of victory, while, on the other hand, they can
also create feelings of fear and powerlessness and make people
more willing to surrender their freedom and autonomy. One of
the most problematic aspects of war metaphors is the way they
discursively construct an “enemy” (the virus), onto which they
impute a kind of malevolent intentionality. So, while talk of war can
make people feel more “powerful”, it can also make the virus seem
more powerful and threatening. Another problem is the inevitable
slippage between the virus and people associated with it (such as
those thought to be spreading it). Where Giorgis et al. add nuance
to this literature is their cross-cultural approach, which shows that
the ways war metaphors were used, and the ways they affected the
agential landscape of the pandemic, differed in different political
and cultural contexts. In Italy, for example, while early use of war
metaphors by the government invoked past wars of liberation from
Fascism, creating a sense of national unity, when the metaphor was
taken to its extreme, with uniformed military patrolling the streets
and a general appointed to manage vaccine logistics, memories of
militarization during the Fascist period stoked public distrust. In
Bulgaria, the politically motivated militarization of the pandemic
by the government ended up being co-opted by anti-government
forces and conspiracy theorist who mobilized war metaphors to
resist restaurant closures and vaccination drives. Interestingly, war
metaphors associated with the pandemic were not pervasive in
the Ukraine, where an actual war was going on. These examples
revel both how the use of war metaphors as a tool to consolidate
power or mobilize the population can sometime have unexpected
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discourse and how these representations come to be associated with
particular social identities or “figures of personhood” (Agha, 2007).
“[T]he most productive aspect of the chronotope concept” argues
Blommaert (2015, p. 109, emphasis mine), both for the analysis
of literary fiction and of sociolinguistic realities, is “its connection
to historical and momentary agency” which enables “social and
political worlds in which actions become dialogically meaningful,
evaluated, and understandable in specific ways”. In their analysis
of the ways people in the Edinburgh and the Lothian area of
Scotland who were living alone represented their experiences of
time-space before and after the lockdown, Cowie et al. found that
different kinds of people produced different kinds of chronotopes.
For international students, who before the lockdown lived rather
regimented and restrained lives associated with their status as
students and outsiders, the lockdown chronotrope was depicted as
a space-time of change and opportunity which allowed them to
re-negotiate their status as residents of the city. For retirees, the
lockdown chronotope was also associated with increased agency
and an enhanced ability to “keep busy”, as many social activities
were suddenly accessible online. For men living close to the city
center, however, the lockdown represented a loss of freedom and
autonomy. These findings don’t just remind us that the pandemic
restrictions were not experienced by everyone as a loss of agency,
but also how different ways of discursively framing restrictions can
sometimes make available new kinds identities for social actors and,
along with them, new possibilities for social action.
consequences, and the “potentially fuzzy boundary between the
literal and metaphorical status of military references during the
pandemic” (Semino, 2021).
While Giorgis et al. focus on the metaphorical language
associated with the pandemic in official discourse, Wilding et al.
address the way ordinary people in lockdown used metaphors to
negotiate their sense of agency and to sometimes counteract the
potentially disempowering effects of official metaphors. What is of
particular interest here is not just the ways metaphorical language
can shape power relations in the social and political spheres, but
the way the metaphors we use can reveal something about our
states of mind and the profound psychological effects exposure to
metaphorical language can have on people feelings of self-efficacy
(Bandura, 2006). Wilding et al. draw on the work of CharterisBlack (2021), who argues that container metaphors used to discuss
isolation during the pandemic, and invasion metaphors used to
characterize the virus, constituted a kind of “moral coercion”
designed to engender feelings of resignation and disempowerment
in the public. What Wilding et al. are able to show with their
more qualitative exploration of the way older people subject to
lockdown restrictions used metaphors is that, while much of their
language exhibited a similar kind of personal “de-agentification”
observed by Robnison et al.—participants portraying themselves
at the mercy of agentive forces outside of their control such
as the virus, time, and even their own emotions (see below),
they also exhibited a resistance to using the metaphors that were
prevalent in official discourses at the time and formulated alternate
metaphorical frames in an attempt to reassert agency. One of these
involved using metaphors associated with patterns and structure as
a way to re-introduce feelings of control in their lives. Whereas for
the diarists studied by Robinson et al., the concept REGULATION
was associated with a loss of individual agency, for the participants
in Wilding et al., REGULATION, in the form of self-regulation was
precisely what allowed them to reassert agency, a finding which
resonates with some psychological perspectives on agency which
emphasize the ability to self-regulate as an essential ingredient in
developing agency over other people and over situations (Bandura,
2006).
Finally, several of these papers note how people used language
to frame their experiences of agency and, in some cases, to
assert or reclaim agency, through the way they discursively
constructed time and space in their talk and writing. Robinson
et al., for example, discuss how diarists’ narrativization of their
experiences of the pandemic often exhibited fragmented portrayals
of time, manifested, for instance in disconnected accounts of
mundane events, discussions of hypothetical (uncertain) futures,
and accounts in which the regulations themselves “became the
new measure of time”. Similarly, Wilding et al. describe how their
participants portrayed time as moving ahead of them and carrying
or propelling them into the future rather than as something that
they themselves moved through.
In contrast, the study by Cowie et al. (2022), also using
diary data, paints a more positive picture, describing how people
created different spatio-temporal frames in their narratives of
the pandemic and used those frames to position themselves in
relation to the situation they found themselves in. Central to
their analysis is Bakhtin (1981) notion of the “chronotrope”,
the way configurations of time and space are represented in
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
Articulating structure
Many of the observations above regarding the encoding
and enactment of agency in language paint a rather traditional
(Western) picture of agents as autonomous, independent
individuals seeking to maintain or increase their independence
and autonomy in the face of restrictions placed on them. But
that is only a partial picture of the way agency is portrayed
in these articles. Along with this individualistic orientation
toward agency, the authors, in various ways, also engage with
the relational, dialogic emergence of agency in the context of
social practices (Bourdieu, 1977). In this more practice oriented
approach, agency is always enacted within the constraints of
or against the backdrop of “structure” (Giddens, 1984), but the
notion of structure is often ill-defined in discussions of structure
and agency (Block, 2015), sometimes seen as an agentless,
amorphous force, not so different from the way REGULATION is
discursively constructed by the diarists in the paper by Robinson
et al. In reality, the forces that constrain our agency are not
just rules and regulations, but complex configurations of other
agentive and non-agentive entities with whom we interact in
various direct and indirect ways. Elder-Vass (2008) suggests three
different dimensions of structure: institutional structure, which
is comprised of institutions, organizations, broader “systems” of
governing and exchange, along with the normative expectations
they impose upon individuals and groups; relational structure,
which is comprised of social relations with others, friends,
family members, authority figures, and the kinds of rights and
obligations that adhere to these relationships; and, embodied
structure, which is comprised of the abilities and habits people
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develop that enable them to reproduce or resist institutional
and relational structures. Block (2015, p. 20) adds to this list the
structure imposed by the physical environment, in particular,
“the spaces within which we are confined and within which
we move” (which seems a particularly important addition in
the context of thinking about structures around the COVID-19
pandemic). The way we discursively enact and encode agency
is as much about how we engage in dialogues along these
different dimensions of structure, and how we put these different
dimensions of structure into dialogue with one another, than
it is about asserting our individual freedom and autonomy or
feeling “empowered”.
This interactional dimension of agency is seen in the ways the
journalists in Kania’s (2022) study formulate their naming practices
in dialogue both with the norms established by the WHO and the
practices of other journalists and politicians. It can be seen in the
way the diarists in the study by Robinson et al. negotiate the limits
of their physical environments, the dynamics of their workplaces,
and their relationships with friends in order to get things done.
And it can be seen in the different ways the different residents
of Edinburgh experience and (re)frame institutional and relational
structures in the study by Cowie et al.
In the context of these complex interactions, it is often
not just the way people discursively construct agency, but
the way they discursively construct structure—that is, which
dimensions of structure that they choose to orient to—that can
determine how they experience their capacity to take action. This
was particularly evident during the pandemic when, for many,
such as the Bulgarian conspiracy theorists discussed by Giorgis
et al., the orientation was almost completely toward institutional
structures—the machinations of a power hungry government and
the scientific establishment—making resistance seem the only
form of action available to them to enact agency. This particular
orientation toward structure as chiefly institutional (and possibly
authoritarian) was no doubt exasperated by the willingness of
many governments to use the pandemic to stifle dissent and
expand state powers, often under the banner of waging “war” on
the virus (Giorgis et al., 2023). Many others, however, oriented
more toward relational and environmental dimensions of structure,
focusing more on their responsibilities toward friends and family
members and the threat of the virus itself, mostly accepting the
restrictions imposed by institutions and governments as necessary
and reserving their ire for uncooperative fellow citizens who
did not follow the rules. This did not necessarily make them
less agentive; as Ahearn (2001) notes “agentive acts may also
involve complicity with, accommodation to, or reinforcement of
the status quo”.
Importantly, how people oriented toward structure and the
kinds of negotiations they were able to have around agency
were often dependent on their positions of privilege (Maxwell
and Aggleton, 2013) or marginalization within their societies,
determined by things like socioeconomic status, race, gender and
age. The ability to “stay at home” or engage in “social distancing”,
for example, was often as much a barometer of power and privilege
as it was of “good citizenship” (Bennett, 2021). At the same time, as
Cowie et al. note, sometimes it was those who entered the pandemic
already accustomed to navigating restrictions (foreign students,
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
pensioners) who were more able to adapt, whereas those who were
accustomed to more freedom and autonomy (Scottish men) had
trouble coping when their privileges were curtailed.
In most cases, people’s negotiation of agency in the face of
institutional restrictions did not take the form of direct negotiations
with governments or institutions themselves, but rather were
worked out at the level of interactions with individuals or other
entities that took the role of mediating between the public and the
government. Chief among these were commercial establishments,
which were often put in the position of enforcing government
regulations around things like mask wearing and social distancing,
and the media (including social media platforms), which were often
put in the position of explaining and interpreting government
policy to the public as well as critiquing it, and of making
determinations about what counted as “information” and what
counted as “misinformation”.
The mediating role of commercial establishments in
promulgating and enforcing government regulations can be
seen most clearly in the paper by Tragel and Pikksaar, where they
examine the ways authors of COVID-19 door signs in Estonia
managed their relationships with customers through grammatically
encoding markers of power and solidarity. This paper is also a good
example of how the institutional dimensions of structure interacted
in sometimes complex ways with relational dimensions of structure
during the pandemic. As Tragel and Pikksaar observe, commercial
establishments were often put in the awkward position of imposing
restrictions on their customers’ agency by, for instance, requiring
them to wear a mask or produce a certificate of vaccination in line
with government guidelines. This position was particularly difficult
for small business owners who desperately depended for their
income on their customers’ goodwill. In communicating these
restrictions on door signs, certain grammatical constructions, such
as the use of the imperative mood and the second-person only
(e.g., “Wear a mask and provide a COVID certificate!”) ran the
risk of alienating customers by positioning them as subordinate
and positioning the establishment as the authority who was
imposing the restrictions rather than just enforcing them. To
mitigate this risk and create more of a sense of solidarity with their
customers, shopkeepers employed a range of linguistic strategies
such as using self-directed language (first person pronouns)
along with imperatives (e.g., “Dear guest, please wear a mask
when entering our house”), avoiding imperatives altogether (e.g.,
“We ask for mask-wearing. Thanks!”), and portraying a party
other than themselves (usually the government) as the source
of authority (e.g., “Dear customer! Regarding the restrictions
imposed by the government wearing a mask in the service station
is mandatory”). What Tragel and Pikksaar demonstrate with
their detailed analysis is how agency is not a simple matter of
power and resistance, but rather something that usually emerges
out of complex discursive negotiations among multiple parties
with different goals. Understanding the mechanics of how these
negotiations play out, they rightly point out, is essential for
improving crisis communication.
In their mediating role between the public and authorities,
commercial establishments also played a part in either promoting
the policies of the government and the ideologies underpinning
them, or in critiquing and resisting them, a fact that is amply
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like self-efficacy and practice theory. More recent treatments of
agency in social science, however, have challenged the idea of
agency as a property of human individuals or groups, suggesting
instead that agency is distributed across networks of human and
non-human entities. Among the most influential versions of this
perspective is Latour’s (2007) Actor Network Theory (ANT), which
proposes that agency is not something that actors possess, but
rather something they perform though the way they position
themselves in relationship to other actors (both human and nonhuman). Another prominent view of agency that questions the
idea of the unitary human agent is Barad’s (2007), Agential
Realism, which sees agency as something that emerges from the
casual relationships between entangled phenomena (human and
non-human, material and discursive), none of which have preexisting ontologies. Agency arises when, through various materialdiscursive interventions, separations are enacted among these
phenomena so they are made to seem distinct—what Barad refers
to as “agential cuts”. In the more traditional views of agency
which we have considered so far, agency is political insofar as
it results from uneven distributions of power. But the political
ramifications of post-human and new-materialist views of agency
are even more profound, since the very act of separating out entities
as able to “have” agency is an essentially ontological exercise which
determines not just who or what has power, but also who or what
“matters” or is excluded from mattering. At the same time, there
is also perhaps, more room for hope within these perspectives.
Because the capacity to act is not fixed within the structure-agency
binary, but rather dynamically performed across agential fields,
more possibilities are opened up not just for “reclaiming” agency,
but for reconfiguring social worlds (Introna, 2014).
Although none of these articles engage explicitly with this
understanding of agency, there are hints of it in for example,
the ways the diarists in the study by Robinson et al. portray
themselves as navigating and even (re)-configuring assemblages of
regulations, objects (such as groceries), people and institutions in
order to get things done, the way the diarists in the study by Cowie
et al. engage with the material and affective dimensions of their
environments, the way the contract tracers in the study by Balfort
et al. operate as parts of assemblages of individuals, institutions,
discourses (such as scripts) and technologies (telephones), and
in the ways the elderly respondents in Wilding et al. attribute
agency to the virus and even to their own emotions. Although,
in the context of more traditional ideas about human agency,
such attributions of agency to non-human entities are seen as
disempowering, from the point of view of the approaches described
in this section, they might be regarded not only as ontologically
more accurate but also as potentially creating space for people
to enact agency in concert with other entities rather than seeing
it as a “zero-sum game”—something that people “have”, and so,
something that can be taken away from them. Gilmore (2012, p.
91), in her discourse analysis of diaries of people experiencing
pain suggests that [p]osthumanism offers a way to rethink agency,
enabling a focus on how, through their speech and writing, people
are able to “re-craft or re-image their symbolic and material
body and its borders” in the context of what she calls “agency
without mastery”.
One aspect of these papers where these more post-human
perspectives on agency might be explored further is the way they
attested to in Banga and Bellinzona’s study of the linguistic
landscape of Florence at different stages of the pandemic. In the
early stages, they note, many shopkeepers used creative strategies
(such as humor) to urge compliance with government guidelines
and the make them seem more palatable. In doing so, they argue,
commercial establishments also reproduced the ideological frames
of unity, solidarity and patriotism that were being promoted by
authorities. Later in the pandemic, however, as business struggled
with the economic effects of restrictions and the public wearied of
them, commercial signs began to adopt strategies such as sarcasm in
order to subtly critique government guidelines as they were urging
compliance with them.
The media, of course, played the most significant role in
communicating government policies to the public and mediating
negotiations of agency. In many contexts, of course, media outlets
assumed the role of promulgating and legitimating information
that came from the government and from mainstream medicine
and science, and even alerting audiences to “fake news” and
“unreliable sources of information”. There were also, of course,
media (and social media) outlets that took a more skeptical
stance toward official discourses and even provided a platform for
conspiracy theorists. Most media outlets in western democracies,
however, occupied a kind of uncomfortable middle ground between
these two extremes, cognizant of their responsibilities to both
disseminate essential information from authorities and to maintain
their role as “watchdogs” against government and corporate
malfeasance or disinformation. Attempts to achieve the latter
goal were often, true to a long tradition in western journalism,
framed in terms of debates about government encroachment on
individual agency and autonomy and government accountability.
These framings are evident in the study by Bafort et al., in which
they compare media depictions of COVID-19 contact tracing to
the interactions that actually occurred between contact tracers and
members of the public. As they point out, contact tracing, in which
citizens who have tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 were asked to
report to authorities the names of people with whom they had
come into contact during the time they were infectious, was a kind
of “new genre” that many in the public were not familiar with,
as well as a genre where issues of power, control and autonomy
were particularly salient. What is interesting about Bafort et al.’
analysis of actual contact tracing interactions and the policies and
principles that informed the training of contact tracers, is how
much attention was paid to mitigating effects on individual agency
and to enacting egalitarian and empathetic interactions. In their
analysis of media coverage of the program, however, they found
that, rather than reporting accurately on what actually occurred
in contact tracing interactions, journalists tended to focus on the
inherent power imbalance of the enterprise and to invoke abstract,
libertarian concerns about privacy and freedom. Not only was this
discursive resistance to the policy misinformed, the authors argue,
but journalists’ readiness to frame contract tracing in terms of a
structure-agency binary actually jeopardized public health.
Distributed agency and affect
Above I examined how issues of agency were explored in
these contributions through the lens of traditional frameworks
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engage with the notion of affect. Scholars in the field of affect
studies also see agency as emergent and distributed. What they
add to this conversation is the assertion that the best way to
understand how agency emerges in the (intra)relationship among
entities is through the lens of “affect”, which they see as “bodily
capacities to affect and be affected. . . to engage, and to connect”
(Clough, 2007, p. 2; see also Spinoza, 1985; Deleuze and Guattari,
1987). From this perspective, agency is inseparable from the
ways bodies attract and repel each other, inseparable from desire
and fear, from anger and joy, and from grief and hope. All of
these feelings have the capacity to reconfigure agential fields,
bringing us closer to some entities and pushing others away.
One thinks, for example, of the dramatic ways the participants in
the study by Wilding et al. describe their emotions as seemingly
independent entities that seem to “creep up on them” and pull
them in different directions, or of the complex and sometimes
contradictory emotions the diarists in Robinson et al. express about
regulations, or of the way the international students in Cowie
et al. “feel” the city of Edinburgh differently during lockdown.
One also thinks of the way affect can be deployed by others to
undermine agency by generating fear or hatred, such as when
metaphors of war or labels such as “China virus” become prominent
features of the discursive environment (Kania, 2022; Giorgis et al.,
2023).
Without a doubt, the paper that engages most fully with
notions of distributed agency and affect is the study of the
pandemic landscapes of Florence by Banga and Bellinzona, in
which they join in a long tradition of considering the affective
dimensions of physical environments, from the “affective turn”
in Linguistic Landscape studies which they mention (Milani and
Richardson, 2021), to other work using concepts such as “affective
atmospheres” (Anderson, 2009) and “affective geographies” (Jones
et al., forthcoming; O’Grady, 2018). In their description of the
streets of Florence at different stages of the pandemic, Banga and
Bellinzona show not just how the physical environment became
a canvas upon which the collective “shock” of residents was
expressed, but also came to function itself as an agent, “structuring
the affective affordances and positions of individuals and groups
(Wee and Goh, 2020, p. 139, cited in Banga and Bellinzona,
2023)”. Rather than just seeing agency as enabled and constrained
by institutional and relational structures, there is a sense in the
descriptions they provide of the streets of Florence of agency
emerging out of “atmospheres” which are collectively formed
from the countless “affective-discursive practices” (Wetherell, 2015
p. 160) of the city’s residents, atmospheres that have concrete
material consequences on people’s behavior and sense of selfefficacy, either creating space for acts of solidarity and charity
or of overwhelming people with feelings of rancor and despair.
This version of agency as an ecological phenomenon contingent
on the momentary and dynamic coming together of “bodies,
subjectivities, relations, histories, and contexts” (Wetherell, 2015,
p. 160) is radically different from the view of agency presented
in the other papers in this collection, and in some ways more
hopeful, suggesting that it is sometimes in moments when people
put aside the drive for individual autonomy and control and orient
instead to affectively aligning themselves with others—friends,
strangers, enemies—and with their material circumstances, that
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
possibilities for coordinated action, collective responsibility and
genuine empathy arise.
Conclusion: agency as
response-ability
So, what can we take from these papers that can teach
us how to have agency in a pandemic, a question that seems
particularly important given that we didn’t seem to do a very
good job of it last time around? Sadly, much of our inability
to take action against the virus—so much of the suffering and
death that we witnessed—was not the result of the virus itself,
but the result our failure to figure out how to take collective
action, a failure seen on the level of nations, institutions and
communities. So much of our time and energy seemed to be spent
defending borders, assigning blame, and asserting “rights”, and
many of the policies pursued by governments seemed designed
not just to isolate us physically, but to isolate us morally,
clothing neoliberal discourses of privatized risk and individual
responsibility (Lupton, 2013) in collective gestures of solidarity, like
simultaneously clapping for underpaid and overworked healthcare
workers. Attempts to critique the restrictions that were being
placed upon us by governments often veered between the extremes
of unquestioning compliance and radical libertarianism, and the
ways individuals responded to these restrictions became more a
matter of protecting political or ideological territories than of
protecting public health. So much time and energy was spent
separating out those who were doing the right thing from those
who were not that we forgot to ask what “doing the right
thing” really means, and what kinds of material conditions, social
relationships, moral codes, medical knowledge and embodied
desires are necessary to enable us to know what the right thing to
do is.
Perhaps the main thing that these contributions teach us about
how to have agency in a pandemic is that language matters,
that the way we talk about things—in official discourse, in the
media, and in our individual interactions with one another—
can have profound effects on our ability take individual and
collective action. The ways that we linguistically assign agency and
responsibility to different entities through things like metaphors
and transitivity, as well as the ways we use language to label
different kinds of actions and different kinds of people as right or
wrong, friends or enemies, helps to constitute the psychological and
social environments in which actual actions are carried out. The
way we use language can exasperate feelings of distrust, isolation
and disempowerment, but it can also provide opportunities for
strengthening connections with others and spaces for reimagining
and creativity reconfiguring our realities. This came out particularly
strongly in the articles which featured the voices of ordinary
people telling stories about their lives in the context of diaries or
interviews. As Cowie et al. intimate, just the action of writing a
diary entry for an audience of the future is acknowledgment of
responsibility and a gesture of hope. They quote De Fina’s (2021,
p. 60) assertion that “through narratives, participants bring to
bear in their present interactions worlds and historical moments
that belong to different geographical and temporal scales” and
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to be responsive and responsible to what the stranger asks from
me”. Biesta insists that the whole point of education is to help
people to cultivate the capacity to respond and be responded to,
not just to question and answer, but to also to recognize and
be present to others, to identify common ground and articulate
possibilities for collective action. One source of inadequacy in
most approaches to health education is their focus on self-efficacy
rather than relational efficacy—their preoccupation with telling
people how to behave rather than how to respond. Similarly, one
source of inadequacy in the approaches to understanding language
and agency reviewed here is their focus on speaking rather than
listening—their preoccupation with the discursive strategies that
people use to claim agency for themselves rather than the discursive
strategies they use to take action with others.
By the way it moved among us, the virus revealed the precarity
of the human community in which the default for many seemed
to be to react rather than respond, to close boarders rather than
to open doors, and to seek ways to capitalize on others’ suffering
rather than to relieve it (Butler, 2020). At the same time, it also
revealed—through the countless individual and collective gestures
of care and selflessness it provoked—gestures that courageously
resisted the default—our capacity to respond, and it reminded us
that sometimes true agency is less about freedom and more about
generosity, less about mastery over our environment and more
about learning from it.
in so doing “create new understandings of reality and also new
patterns of social interaction”. In this regard, it seems that the
questions we need to be asking about the relationship between
language and agency need to go beyond questions about how
agency is encoded and enacted in language to questions like those
suggested by Pratt (2018, p. 24, emphasis mine) in a discussion
of the role of language in socio-cultural creativity: “What gives
utterances the ability to generate courage? To move people from one
belief to another, to compel action? How does speech emancipate
and generate new futures? What qualities give speech the worldmaking, subject-producing, transformative powers we see exhibited
every day?”
Another thing I think we can learn from these contributions
is how possibilities for action are not static, but arise out
of inter (and intra)-actions with other people and with our
environments. Agency does not have to be seen as a “zerosum game” in which individuals and institutions vie for power,
and it is not always enacted in terms of resistance to structure.
Engaging with more relational and post-human approaches to
agency can help us generate new perspectives on how people
understand and talk about the different forces (both human and
non-human) that come to constitute the agential fields in which
they operate. They can also sensitize us to the fact that the course
of pandemics are not determined by the autonomous actions of
individuals and governments but by the ways individuals and
government position themselves in relationship with a host of
other actors. As Geerts (2021, p. 158), reminds us, a pandemic is a
“multilayered more-than-human crisis that requires a holistic, but
non-totalizing, approach”.
To really understand how to have agency during a pandemic,
however, and to avoid the mistakes we made in the last one, requires
that we come to grips not just with how agency intersects with
issues of courage, creativity and empowerment, but also how it
intersects with notions of collective responsibility and empathy.
Here we might take inspiration from work in education studies
(e.g., Biesta, 2006; Ingold, 2017; Geerts, 2021) which challenges the
idea that agency is prior to and determinative of action. “[J]ust
because not everything happens according to one’s own volition
does not mean that someone else is in charge, or that agency is more
widely distributed” writes Ingold (2017, p. 24). Rather, possibilities
for action are continually “forming and transforming from within
the action itself ”, so that instead of talking about agency, we
should talk about “agencing”. In order to see possibilities for action
as they emerge moment by moment, however, requires a shift
in perspective away from notions of individual “responsibility”—
which seek to concentrate power and to situate blame—to notions
of “response-ability”, the ability to respond to (rather than just react
to) the circumstances that arise in our social and material worlds.
This applies both to the ability of governments and institutions
to flexibly respond to quickly changing health crises, as well as to
individuals’ ability to respond to the needs, capacities, fears, and
desires of others, to search for opportunities for connection even
in contexts where our normal ways of connecting are constrained.
As Biesta (2006, p. 64) puts it, “what is done, what needs to
be done, and what only I can do, is to respond to the stranger,
Frontiers in Artificial Intelligence
Author contributions
RJ: Writing—original draft.
Funding
The author(s) declare that no financial support was received for
the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Conflict of interest
The author declares that the research was conducted
in the absence of any commercial or financial relationships
that could be construed as a potential conflict
of interest.
Publisher’s note
All claims expressed in this article are solely those of the
authors and do not necessarily represent those of their affiliated
organizations, or those of the publisher, the editors and the
reviewers. Any product that may be evaluated in this article, or
claim that may be made by its manufacturer, is not guaranteed or
endorsed by the publisher.
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