Recently I was able to talk to Tara Brabazon about my work on transitional commoning. We discuss a paper I wrote with Gradon Diprose and Irene Boles, which asks the question “can the commons be temporary?” In effect, what might be sustained when the temporary commons is transitioned into something else?
We wrote this guide because we could feel something stirring across the region.
Recently I was part of a project documenting awesome projects in the Greater Wellington Region. In our work as researchers, community collaborators, planners, and advocates, we kept coming across people doing the quiet, determined, and deeply hopeful work of transition. These included composters and kai growers, local energy innovators, housing cooperatives, council staffers working behind the scenes, artists hosting place-based experiments, iwi-led projects regenerating whenua. As someone born in Wellington and who grew up in Wairarapa, I was really keen to connect with projects in this region but also to connect them with each other!
Often, these efforts were siloed or invisible to each other. But taken together, they point to something larger: an emerging transition infrastructure already in motion. Transitions in Action: An Urban and Regional Transitions Guide for Te Upoko o te Ika / Wellington is our attempt to document, honour, and connect these efforts.
What the guide is (and isn’t)
It’s not a plan. It’s not a blueprint. We explored a few different ideas for titles (I suggested ‘look book’), but it was Amanda that came up with the idea of a ‘field guide’.
So it’s a field guide—something that invites attention, orientation, and learning. It draws on interviews, workshops, and mapping work to identify over 50 projects across six transition domains: housing, energy, mobility, ecosystems, economy, and community.
To me, what is important is that these are not hypothetical futures—they’re already underway. And they’re reshaping our shared sense of what’s possible here.
What we’ve learned
Writing this guide affirmed a few things we suspected, and clarified many things we hadn’t yet articulated. A few key insights:
Transitions are already happening, but they’re uneven, precarious, and sometimes invisible to themselves.
Place matters. Transition in Wellington looks different than in other regions—it’s shaped by wind, faultlines, iwi relationships, governance structures, harbour edges, and long-standing networks of resistance and repair.
Community and institutional work are entangled. The most promising initiatives weren’t either grassroots or top-down—they blurred those lines.
Transitions need time and infrastructure. Many of these projects operate on goodwill and temporary resourcefulness. Without scaffolding—funding, policy shifts, relational infrastructure—they risk burning out or being co-opted.
Who we wrote it for
We wrote this guide for people already doing the work, to help them find each other. It was so awesome to see a range of the people who feature in the book turn up to the launches and meet each other!
We also wrote it for funders, public servants, and elected officials—those who say they want climate action or community wellbeing, but often don’t know where to start. The guide shows what’s already in motion, what’s needed, and where policy or funding could shift to support grassroots capacity without overriding it. We have had such a great response from local and central government — with Masterton councillor Stella Lennox, Wellington City Councillor Yadana Saw, MPs Celia Wade-Brown and Tamatha Paul appearing at our two launches!
Finally, we wrote it for ourselves. To better understand the ecology of transition in our home region. To see the patterns, the synergies, the tensions, and the possibilities.
What’s next?
Our hope is that the guide becomes a resource for conversation and connection. That it helps to legitimise and amplify the work already being done. And that it invites deeper reflection on what kinds of transitions we’re part of—and for whom.
We’re already hearing from local councils, community groups, and educators who want to use it in their work. And we’re in ongoing conversations with collaborators about how this guide might seed similar efforts in other regions.
In February 2006, 6 months pregnant, I left Palmerston North NZ for Canberra, Australia to pursue a PhD with Katherine Gibson (of JK Gibson-Graham). Thus began a journey of research and learning in Australia, China, Aotearoa NZ, through the birth of four children and homes in five different cities. And in February 2024, some 18 years later, I celebrate the monograph that emerged from all that work!
When I went into the project 18 years ago, I was really interested in how the processes of Westernisation and globalisation were playing out unevenly around the world. I was particularly interested in pockets of resistance to corporate globalisation. In my fieldwork in the far west of China in the province of Qinghai, I studied the relationship between the local nappy-free infant hygiene practice, space, place and cultures of health and wellbeing. During that time, I discovered a whole online community of westerners also trying to learn the nappy-free infant hygiene practice but without the support of their local environments or cultures. In both groups, there was a resistance to the use of disposable nappies, and the deliberate cultivation of embodied practices of hygiene that required less material (and plastic) stuff.
Fieldwork was conducted in the city of Xining, in Qinghai province in the far west of China
Hygiene is social, material and spatial
As a book project, Caring for Life: A postdevelopment politics of hygiene speaks more to our post-pandemic hygienes, as well as the broader question of how does social change happen. In the revisions made for the monograph, I significantly rewrote and retheorised most of the material to build an argument about hygiene assemblages.
Hygiene assemblages is a term referring to the social, material, cultural and spatial practices that come together to keep hygiene. In the Qinghai examples, these assemblages gathered around strong social and spatial practices — caregivers learned the specific signals for baby’s wee and poop, and held them out over appropriate places — wee against a tree, on the concrete, on the tiles, or over a drain. Poop over a newspaper, a basin, a toilet or a pile of ash from the fire (in rural areas). But they worked to keep hygiene nevertheless. In the Australian examples, caregivers were trying to learn these signals too, but with less historical and cultural knowledge to draw on. Their assemblages gathered around the material aspects of the practice: potties, bags, nappies, wipes, toilets, containers and more.
Of course, all hygiene assemblages have both social and material practices, and all have a spatiality and cultural component. What I was interested in was the possibilities of learning and assembling new hygiene practices and assemblages through cross-cultural learning. Could these practices from the far west of China influence hygiene assemblages in Aotearoa, Australia and other places in the West? In asking this, I developing thinking around hybrid research collectives to argue that the early adopters of ‘elimination communication’ (as the nappy-free hygiene practice was called) were researchers, experimenting and documenting their hygiene assemblages in ways that made it more possible for others to pick up the practice.
It has been interesting to work on the book over such a long period: things that were not normal 18 years ago have become normalised. During this time, elimination communication has become more mainsteam, as have other alternative hygiene practices such as using menstrual cups, reusable pads or period panties, and a whole range of modern cloth nappies. We have also had a global pandemic where the first response was not really medical, but social — in the form of social distancing and changing behaviours and habits before vaccines were produced.
Photo by Eric Lafforgue, from Flickr
What does Caring for life have to say about transition?
So what does the book tell us about transitioning to caring economies? Here’s three thoughts on that:
Transition and social change is material, social and spatial. It’s not about individuals, although individuals and their behaviours matter. It’s about the broader assemblage of these materialities, socialities and spatialities.
Passionate collectives of individuals experimenting with different material, social and spatial arrangements can spark and seed change. In the area of economic change, this means paying attention to what collectives of community groups are doing — degrowthers, community economy organisations, artist collectives, Indigenous economies, regional and local economies and more. It’s not that these experiments have to be scaled up ‘as is’, but that they produce important knowledge that can inform change.
We can and should learn from places that are considered ‘less-developed’, ‘out of the way’ or ‘undeveloped’. For it is in these places where different diverse forms of cultural, social, material and spatial arrangements can be found that might be better adapted for transition.
If you are interested in taking a look at the book, see here.
I’m also available to give talks on the book this year, just get in touch!
As part of my Rutherford Transitioning to Caring Economies work I look to take on students doing aligned projects funded by other funders. Heidi McLeod is a PhD student I am co-supervising enrolled at Lincoln University. She is a Food Transitions 2050 scholar, lives in Hawke’s Bay, and has participated in the research postcapitalist possibilities winter school.
Heidi, tell us a bit about yourself and what you are working on.
I am an out and out foodie and I love good food. I am passionate about whole food and food that comes from a quality environment. I aim to live lightly on the earth, well lighter and lighter, and I care about how our world cares for itself and each other. My immersion in Human Geography over the last few years has seen me contemplate the elements of space, place, scale, and flow. These touchstone points have helped me engage with how we live and thrive in the world today, yesterday, and tomorrow. Because I have had a lifetime connected to food, I used my geographic learnings to think about food and our food system – connecting things that I love and have meaning to me. If I can’t feed you, I have failed!
To explore how food is in space, place, scale and flow, I have come to think about production and consumption, the ways in which food is connected across myriad places and flows, and finally settling to think about food for the people of Aotearoa New Zealand. I have been drawn to the discourse around care and ethics, recognising the importance of diversity, surplus, and the need for different political and economic mindsets to provide food to people in a way that does not limit access or cause social and environmental harm. To this end, I have begun a PhD, through the Food Transitions 2050 Joint Postgraduate School, aimed at examining the impact of local food systems and socially and environmentally just food security initiatives. I’m right at the beginning, but have a great team and I can’t wait to get started on my research and see what I can learn to share with Aotearoa New Zealand about our food system.
What are the big transitions you see needing to happening in your area of interest?
I’m really conscious of Aotearoa New Zealand’s colonised trajectory into agriculture, and our position within global systems as a dairy and meat exporter (alongside other smaller but lucrative produce and products) to international markets. My concern is that our national focus appears to be on taking every opportunity to maximise use of our environment to harness export or niche markets for an optimum price. However, at the same time Aotearoa New Zealand, like many other countries, is faced with complex problems of malnutrition, climate change, environmental degradation, and social inequalities which ring the alarm bell of food insecurity. This begs the question, what transitions are required to improve outcomes for Aotearoa New Zealand’s eaters and also many agricultural producers?
This is the intersection with caring economies literature, and more specifically with the oeuvre of Gibson-Graham’s work on diverse economies. It feels to me that our current political and economic structures prioritise policy, regulation, and funding that favours and progresses our agricultural export potential ahead of attending immediate needs of Aotearoa New Zealand’s eaters and smaller producers. The fantastic fact is that we can absolutely do both, it’s not a case of ‘either-or’ but of ‘both-and’. However, in my mind, our structures of political economy need to recognise and embrace diverse and caring economies, pursuing social and environmental justice, not just export drivers. I think there is space for both and we need to transition to a place of enabling these diverse and hopeful possibilities.
What inspires you from the communities you are working with?
I’m not yet researching with communities for my PhD. But, based on research I’ve done in Taranaki and with food system innovators who are reinventing food supply/value chains, I’m inspired by the intuitive knowledge these growers who are working against the grain to produce amazing produce in a way that betters our environment, provides ideal livelihoods, and redistributes value to producers. They all exhibit welcome additional options to our mainstream systems and conveniences. I’m inspired by the way they can give full effect to their ideals be they cultural, environmental, or social. I’m disheartened by the challenges they face, the lack of visibility and appreciation they receive, and the barriers they face as they continue to innovate and experiment with the highest benchmarks of care and ethics. Therefore, I want to utilise my PhD and ongoing research to highlight the value of these caring economies in order to enhance policy, regulation and our lived experiences.
What are some of the challenges in doing a PhD in this area?
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata. There are challenges wherever you look, but with the right people on your waka you can crest any wave.
Heidi is a food systems researcher who is passionate about local food.
Detail from painting by Inge Flinte — hopefully it will feature on the cover of one of the books coming out!
It’s hard to believe that it’s been a year already since I started at Massey and began working on this project fulltime. Recently I had to complete an annual report, which provides a nice opportunity to reflect on what I have been doing. Here are the highlights:
Transforming the way we think about economies
Finished off and submitted Caring for Life: A postdevelopment politics of infant hygiene. It’s now in production with University of Minnesota Press and will be available by the end of the 2023. While infant hygiene might not seem related to economies, the book develops an approach to studying places built on pluriversal thinking. Nappy-free hygiene practices in the Global South are understood as important innovations for Global North communities who need to rethink their resource use.
Finished off an submitted Introducing Human Geographies, 4th edition, co-edited with Paul Cloke, Mark Goodwin, Junxi Qian and Andy Williams. This global textbook is in production with Routledge, and was a complete revision and redesign of the text that included a diverse range of authors from all over the world. I worked particularly on the ‘Collaborations’ section, which envisions the next generation of geographic education and research.
Taught the Aotearoa node of the intensive winter school Researching Postcapitalist Possibilities. PhD and early career scholars from NZ and Australia converged on Palmerston North for 10 days of immersive learning in poststructural action research, community economies, and researching with postcapitalist possibilities in mind.
Inventorying diverse economies with postcapitalist potential
I have begun collaborating with the Wellbeing Economy Alliance, including Gareth Hughes’ listening tour, and the WEALL Economy for Public Good conference. In each of these I learn about new and old projects all over Aotearoa.
I have begun collaborating with the Global Tapestry of Alternatives, although I had to cancel a planned trip to their Global Congress in Kenya. This group is an alliance of transition groups form all over the world, with leadership from the Global South.
We have completed an in-depth report on the wellbeing outcomes of the work of Life in Vacant Spaces in a post-disaster context in Ōtautahi Christchurch.
Did some experimental work with a quantitative version of a Community Economy Return on Investment tool, with the help of a wonderful intern from Norway. We will continue to work on developing this in both quantiative and qualitative versions as part of this research programme.
I have begun a new case study of Christian and post-Christian postcapitalist subjectivities and activism, with ethics approval, a book contract and co-author all lined up!
Key findings in 2023
Communities are already investing in transition to postcapitalist and caring economies and there is extensive innovation that is not yet present in the literature. Part of the issue is that social innovation is not always recognised, particularly if it is done in marginalised and low-income groups, regions or nations.
Global interconnections are being made, particularly between networks in the Global South, that have well-developed bottom-up theories of economic change.
Subjectivities (or sense of self as an actor) play a role in community investment – we have found this in particular with alternative waste infrastructure that contributes to more circular community economies.
New metrics are needed and desired by community organisations who want to represent the transformative work they do outside of monetary frameworks.