The Practical Accomplishment of Everyday Activities Without Sight [1 ed.] 9780367742577, 9780367742591, 9781003156819

Citation preview

The Practical Accomplishment of Everyday Activities Without Sight

This book is about the everyday life of people with visual impairment or blindness. Using video ethnographic methods and ethnomethodological conversation analysis, it unpacks the practical accomplishments of everyday activities such as navigating in public space, identifying objects and obstacles, being included in workplace activities, interacting with guide dogs, or interacting in museums or classes in school. Navigation, social inclusion, and the world of touch constitute key phenomena that are affected by visual impairment and which we study in this book. Whereas sighted people use their sight for navigating, for figuring out the location of co-participants and the embodied cues they produce, and for achieving understanding of objects in the world, visually impaired people on the contrary cannot rely on vision for navigating, for interpreting embodied cues, or for identifying or recognizing objects. Other sensory resources and other practices are employed to accomplish these basic human actions. The chapters in this book present examples and findings relevant to these issues and draw out the general theoretical implications of these findings. Whereas existing research often studies visual impairment from a medical, cognitive, and psychological perspective, this book provides insights into how visually impaired people accomplish ordinary activities in orderly, organized ways by a detailed study of their actions. While most books describe cognitive and biological issues, many of them using experimental methods, this book provides empirical findings about the actual daily lives as it naturally unfolds based on video recordings. The book contributes insights into the practices of living with visual impairment as well as perspectives for rethinking some of the most basic aspects of human sociality, including perception, interaction, multisensoriality, and ocularcentrism (the view that the world is de facto designed by and for sighted persons). As such, the book provides novel findings in the field of ethnomethodological conversation analysis. Renewing the social model of disability, this book will appeal to scholars of sociology with interests in ethnomethodology and conversation analysis, the emergence of practical skills, and understandings of disability in terms of relations between the individual and the social environment. Brian L. Due is an associate professor in the Department of Nordic Studies and Linguistics at the University of Copenhagen, Denmark. Due’s research and teaching is within EMCA, multimodality, ethnographic methods, technology, socio-materiality, mobilities, perception and distributed agency, sensory impairment, and disabilities. He is the co-editor of the Social Interaction: Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality journal. He has also published in journals such as Journal of Pragmatics, Space and Culture, Mobilities, Discourse Studies, Human Studies, and Semiotica.

Directions in Ethnomethodology and Conversation Analysis Series Editors: Andrew Carlin, University of Macau, Macau SAR, China, and K. Neil Jenkings, Newcastle University, UK.

Ethnomethodology and Conversation Analysis are cognate approaches to the study of social action that together comprise a major perspective within the contempo­ rary human sciences. Ethnomethodology focuses upon the production of situated and ordered social action of all kinds, whilst Conversation Analysis has a more specific focus on the production and organisation of talk-in-interaction. Of course, given that so much social action is conducted in and through talk, there are sub­ stantive as well theoretical continuities between the two approaches. Focusing on social activities as situated human productions, these approaches seek to analyse the intelligibility and accountability of social activities ‘from within’ those activi­ ties themselves, using methods that can be analysed and described. Such methods amount to aptitudes, skills, knowledge and competencies that members of society use, rely upon and take for granted in conducting their affairs across the whole range of social life. As a result of the methodological rewards consequent upon their unique analytic approach and attention to the detailed orderliness of social life, Ethnomethodology and Conversation Analysis have ramified across a wide range of human science disciplines throughout the world, including anthropology, social psychology, lin­ guistics, communication studies and social studies of science and technology. This series is dedicated to publishing the latest work in these two fields, includ­ ing research monographs, edited collections and theoretical treatises. As such, its volumes are essential reading for those concerned with the study of human conduct and aptitudes, the (re)production of social orderliness and the methods and aspira­ tions of the social sciences. Medical and Healthcare Interactions Members’ Competence and Socialization Edited by Sara Keel The Practical Accomplishment of Everyday Activities Without Sight Edited by Brian L. Due For more information about this series, please visit: www.routledge.com/Directions-in-Ethnomethodology-and-Conversation-Analysis/ book-series/ASHSER1190

The Practical Accomplishment of Everyday Activities Without Sight Edited by Brian L. Due

First published 2024 by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2024 selection and editorial matter, Brian L. Due; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Brian L. Due to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: 978-0-367-74257-7 (hbk) ISBN: 978-0-367-74259-1 (pbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-15681-9 (ebk) DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819 Typeset in Times New Roman by Apex CoVantage, LLC

To people with visual impairments

Contents

List of Contributors Acknowledgements 1 The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment: An EM/CA approach

ix

xi

1

BRIAN L. DUE

2 The production and reception of assistance proposals between pedestrians and visually impaired persons during a course in orientation and mobility

26

MARC RELIEU

3 Shared intelligibility in interactions between visually impaired people and guide dogs

49

CHLOÉ MONDÉMÉ

4 Guided by the blind: Discovering the competences of visually impaired co-authors in the practice of collaborative audio-description

69

MAIJA HIRVONEN

  5  Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field: Utilizing the  affordances of an object 

92

LOUISE LÜCHOW

6 Mitigating responsibility: Attributing membership categories in the face of tech-related troubles

112

ANN MERRIT RIKKE NIELSEN

7 Echo and synchrony: Social attunements in visually impaired children’s repetitive movements JÜRGEN STREECK AND RACHEL S. Y. CHEN

131

viii

Contents

8 From embodied scanning to tactile inspections: When visually impaired persons exhibit object understanding 

154

BRIAN L. DUE , RUI SAKAIDA, HIRO YUKI NISISAWA, AND YASUSUKE MINAMI

9 Assembling compositions: Visually impaired people and the experience of art in museums

180

DIRK VOM LEHN

10 The limits of vision

199

LORENZA MONDADA

11  The significance of EM/CA studies in multimodal interaction  involving visual impairment in the field of “atypical  interaction research”

227

GITTE RASMUSSEN

Index

244

Contributors

Rachel S. Y. Chen, PhD, assistant professor, College of Humanities and Social Sciences, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore, is interested in music and rhythm, neurodiversity and autism, stimming and repetitive behaviour, sen­ sory experiences, video ethnography, and design-based research. Brian L. Due, PhD, associate professor, Department of Nordic Studies and Lin­ guistics, University of Copenhagen, has studied interactions with humans, machines, and animals from an EMCA perspective focusing on embodiment, perception, and sensorial experiences. Maija Hirvonen, PhD, is an associate professor (tenure track) at the German Lan­ guage, Culture and Translation Faculty of Information Technology and Com­ munication Sciences, Tampere University. She focuses on accessibility (esp. audio-description), multimodal and intermodal translation and interpreting, blind-sighted interaction, teamwork, and human-centred machine learning (esp. machine perception, automatic video description, and audio captioning). Louise Lüchow is a PhD student at the Department of Nordic Studies and Linguis­ tics, University of Copenhagen. She currently investigates visually impaired people’s use of technology in their everyday lives. Yasusuke Minami, PhD, is a full professor at Seijo University, Department of Mass Communication, Tokyo, Japan. Minami’s research and teaching are within ethnographic methods, EMCA, life story interview, video-based interaction analysis, socialization, drug addictions, instruction, life-course and change, and correctional communication. Lorenza  Mondada is a linguistics professor at the University of Basel (Switzer­ land). Grounded in conversation analysis and ethnomethodology, her research deals with social interaction in a diversity of ordinary, professional, and insti­ tutional settings. Her focus is on video analysis and multimodality, integrating language and embodiment in the study of human action, as well as social rela­ tions, materiality, and sensoriality. Chloé Mondémé has a PhD in linguistics from Ecole Normale Supérieure (Lyon) and is now a researcher at Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique in

x

Contributors sociology and epistemology. Adopting an EMCA approach, a large part of her work is dedicated to the study of interspecies (human/animal) interaction, and in particular to the role of touch and haptics in communication.

Hiro Yuki Nisisawa, MA, is a former professor at Tokiwa University, Department of Communication, Japan, and a project collaborator at the National Institute for Japanese Language and Linguistics. His recent research is in asymmetrical communication, including the study of the interaction of visually impaired peo­ ple and the interaction of people with aphasia within EMCA. Gitte Rasmussen, PhD, is professor at the Department of Language, Culture, His­ tory, and Communication, University of Southern Denmark. Since about 2006, she has used EMCA approaches to the organization of activities and interac­ tions, especially when impairments are involved. Marc Relieu, senior research scientist, Telecom Paris, is interested in building an Ethno/CA embodied approach of talk, perception, and sensoriality from his ear­ lier works on street crossing and various organizational features of Orientation and Mobility courses to studies of various technologically mediated interactions. Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen, PhD, assistant professor at University of Copenhagen, Department of Nordic Studies and Linguistics and a member of CIRCD – Cen­ tre of Interaction Research and Communication Design. Rui Sakaida, PhD, is an associate professor at Future University Hakodate, Japan. He conducts research on the multimodal organization of face-to-face interac­ tion, drawing on ethnomethodology and conversation analysis. Jürgen Streeck, PhD, professor, Department of Communication Studies, The Uni­ versity of Texas at Austin, conducts video-based research on human interaction in everyday life. He is particularly interested in language and the body as media of interaction and cognition and in the cultural and experiential foundations of language and meaning. Dirk vom Lehn, PhD, professor, Public Services Management & Organisation, Kings College London. His research is primarily concerned with the practical organization of action and interaction in museums and galleries, in optometric consultations, on street-markets, and in dance workshops. He also has an inter­ est in the creation and development of ethnomethodology and in the further advancement of video-based research methods for the study of the organization of action.

Acknowledgements

This book was born out of the project BlindTech, which was based at the Depart­ ment of Nordic Studies and Linguistics, University of Copenhagen. BlindTech studied the use of new AI technologies for visually impaired people using EMCA and video ethnography. It was supported by the Velux Foundations, Denmark. It was carried out in close collaboration with The Institute for the Blind and Partially Sighted (IBOS), which helps young and adult persons with a visual impairment, their relatives, and professionals in Denmark. I would like to thank the Velux Foun­ dations, colleagues in the project, and IBOS for their engagement and collaboration with this project, and their encouragement to proceed with this book. I would like to thank an anonymous reviewer and all the authors for their ongo­ ing work to make this book stand out as a key contribution to EMCA. I would especially like to thank Andrew Carlin and K. Neil Jenkings, the co-editors of the Routledge Directions in Ethnomethodology series, for their extensive and detailed work with earlier drafts.

1

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment An EM/CA approach Brian L. Due

The minute particularities of living with visual impairment “In order to understand blindness one must study the minute particular. It is in the observation of tiny detail that I have come to understand the nature of blindness”. (Hull, 1997, p. xiii) “Blind people also lose communication through general body language, since al­ though they can speak using gestures, they cannot receive the body language of other people. Most of the little moments of play are lost, winking, sticking out your tongue, exchanging mocking glances, raising the eyebrows and so on. Everything must be channelled through words or through touch”. (Hull, 1997, p. 12) “You only notice the windscreen when a crack develops in it, and the taken-for­ granted nature of everyday life late in the twentieth century is only challenged by some profound disaster”. (Hull, 1997, p. 232)

In his seminal books, the visually impaired professor of religious education John M. Hull (1935–2015) describes his own process of losing his sight as an adult. The previous quotes stress some important aspects that will run throughout this book: (1) the importance of studying the actual, everyday, ordinary details of the lived lives of visually impaired persons (VIPs)1; (2) the importance of establishing knowledge of the multisensorial and practical implications of the impaired sense in communication; and (3) what we can learn more generally about human sociality and taken-for-granted knowledge, culture, practices, etc. by studying VIP in practi­ cal action and interaction. Whereas the dominant research traditions – as I will discuss in detail next – study visual impairment from a medical, cognitive, and psychological perspective, this book provides insights into just how VIP accomplish ordinary activities in orderly, organized ways. All the chapters in this book are based on a video-ethnographic methodology and ethnomethodological conversation analysis (EM/CA). VIP have been recorded while engaged in ordinary activities like shopping, visiting friends, DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-1

2

Brian L. Due

going to work, spending time in their own home, trying to use new assistive tech­ nologies, etc. While most books on VIP describe in detail cognitive and biological issues, this book is about the actual daily lives and the practical issues that arise when people are not able to see the world around them. Thus, the objective of this book is to provide detailed knowledge of key issues in the daily lives of VIP. The book contributes insights into the practices of VIP – and on that basis, it also provides perspectives for rethinking some of the most basic aspects of human sociality (e.g. perception, interaction, multisensoriality, and ocularcentrism). As such, the book provides innovative findings in the field of EM/CA. It aims to con­ tribute to the broad field of social research into VIP’s lives, and more specifically, to establish new directions in ethnomethodology and conversation analysis by unpacking the details of VIP’s everyday activities. The book’s main themes are (1) practices for navigating in urban environments; (2) practices for achieving inclusion in social situations; (3) practices of getting to know objects and technologies through touch; and (4) how these themes may con­ tribute to EM/CA research focusing on “atypicality” and multisensoriality. Naviga­ tion, social inclusion, and the world of touch constitute key phenomena that are affected by visual impairment. There is an interesting relationship between these themes, as sighted people ordinarily use their sight for navigating, for figuring out the location of co-participants and the embodied cues they produce, and for achiev­ ing understanding of objects in the world. VIP, on the contrary, cannot rely on vision for navigating, for interpreting embodied cues, or for identifying or recog­ nizing objects. As such, other sensory resources and other practices are employed to accomplish these basic human actions. The chapters will present examples and findings relevant to these issues. The book includes unique contributions from scholars across the world. Each chapter contributes both to the general understanding of VIP’s lives and to the theoretical development within the chapter’s own domain. The book has two main audiences: (1) people conducting research related to disability and impairment, especially visual impairment; and (2) people conducting research into interactional phenomena, especially within the EM/CA community in general. The book assumes basic prior knowledge about social science and ethnography in the tradition of ethnomethodology and conversation analysis. The following sec­ tions in this introductory chapter discuss how EM/CA provides opportunities for new understandings and respecifications of basic human issues of sociality related to visual impairment. David Goode, a disability researcher who studied deafblind children, says this about the study of impaired bodies: “There is no other version of sociology that incorporates the lived body as strongly as ethnomethodology” (Goode, 2003). Disability is a topic for research not only in its own right, and with respect to people with impairments, but also because such studies may, from an ethnometh­ odological standpoint, reveal basic, taken-for-granted knowledge about human action, practices, norms, and sociality. A case of particular relevance to this book’s interest in impaired vision is one of Harold Garfinkel’s breaching experiments, in which he asked his students to wear inverting glasses. As Garfinkel learned

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 3 from Maurice Merleau-Ponty, many everyday tasks are bodily accomplishments. Garfinkel would then conduct experiments to show just how this is the case. One such case is the “inverting lenses” experiment. These lenses turn everything upside down and reverse right and left, thus impairing the wearer’s vision. Albert B. Robillard, one of his students, describes the experience: Garfinkel had us try to write our names on a blackboard while looking at it. We found we could not. Our handwriting broke down at every turn. The inverting lenses did not permit a routine access to knowing where your hand was, nor did they allow the visual monitoring and direction of where your hand was moving. If we closed our eyes, we were able to write our names legibly. But if we used our sight, the handwriting became confused, often provoking a momentary paralysis of the hand and arm. The objective of the exercise was to demonstrate that such mundane tasks as writing were founded on the habit of “normal” eyesight. (Robillard, 1999, p. 155) “Normal eyesight” (20/20 vision) is the default for living in the social world. Our world is predominantly organized by and for sighted people – in other words, it is ocularcentric (from late Latin: ocularis, “of the eyes”). The study of VIP not only provides insights into a minority’s daily mundane lives and troubles – of special interest is Garfinkel’s (2002 pp. 212–213) own studies of his blind student Helen and the orderly ways she organized her kitchen – but also how such perspicuous settings reveals a plethora of taken-for-granted knowledge and practices that oth­ erwise gets routinely accomplished (cf. Garfinkel, 1963) in an ocularcentric world (see the paragraph titled “The ocularcentric design of the spatial world” in this chapter). Visual impairment: facts and positions Some people are born with blindness or low vision, but most people develop vision loss later in life. Globally, the World Health Organization (WHO) states that 2.2 billion people have a visual impairment (WHO, 2019). Research (e.g. Varma et al., 2016) suggests that the percentage of people with visual impairment will rise rapidly up to 2050 as the population ages. For most VIP, not being able to see the world causes problems. The everyday consequences can be significant: less than 30% of working age VIP adults are employed (Slade et al., 2017). Simple day-to­ day activities can be cause for significant concern, and VIP leave their homes much less often than sighted people. This reduced activity level is in itself detrimental to health and can lead to isolation and social exclusion (Brunes et al., 2019). Studies of VIP have typically been conducted using questionnaires and experi­ mental or autoethnographic methods. Everyday life as it naturally emerges in and through embodied actions and social interactions with other people and objects remains poorly understood. In this book – instead of presupposing what may be counted as activity, action, mobility, interaction, and social inclusion/exclusion per

4

Brian L. Due

se – we depart from a video-ethnographic methodology and instead adopt the eth­ nomethodological analytic mentality, that is paying attention to what the partici­ pants themselves actually accomplish in situ through situated actions. As such, this book provides new, empirically based knowledge of key issues in the lives of VIP when they, for example use assistive technologies, interact with guide dogs, train to navigate urban environments, interact with others at work or in school, and achieve embodied insights about objects and obstacles in the world. The landscape of research on visual impairment can be divided into eight dif­ ferent perspectives: The biological perspective deals with how visual impairment develops and affects the person’s body, focusing on bodily sensation and motor functions (e.g. Bailey et al., 1990). The cognitive perspective deals with cognitive aspects of visual impairment and how the brain works together with the senses (e.g. Cattaneo & Vecchi, 2011). The technological perspective deals with differ­ ent types of assistive aids, typically with a focus on technologies and ergonom­ ics (e.g. Hersh & Johnson, 2010). The sociological perspective deals with aspects of stigmatization, and culture and social inclusion/exclusion (e.g. Milian & Erin, 2001). The disability perspective focuses on discussions of what counts as ability and what counts as “normal” (e.g. Davis, 2016; Shakespeare, 2017). The com­ municative perspective deals with troubles related to communication, social skills, competences, and, typically, cognition and learning (e.g. Roe & Webster, 2002). The ethnographic perspective deals with how ordinary activities are accomplished in situ, typically focusing on geographic or spatial issues related to human geogra­ phy (e.g. Macpherson, 2017). Finally, the autoethnographic perspective focuses on how visually impaired people themselves describe, based on their own experience, aspects of everyday practices (e.g. Saerberg, 2015). Obviously, all of these different research perspectives, with their different focuses and methodologies, offer important knowledge about the complexities of being vis­ ually impaired. Along with these eight perspectives, this book offers a ninth: the EM/CA perspective on visual impairment. This perspective does not dismiss find­ ings from the other perspectives but unpacks phenomena from video materials to respecify some of the taken-for-granted knowledge that goes into key topics such as mobility and navigation, achieving inclusion, and using objects and technologies. As such, the book is a unique contribution to studies of visual impairment, as all the chapters (except Chapter 11) are based on original empirical work, in the form of video ethnography, and ethnomethodology and conversation analysis (EM/CA). The eight different perspectives are typically divided into two main paradigms: the medical paradigm, focusing on the biology of the impaired sense; and the social model paradigm, focusing on social aspects of inclusion in or exclusion from society and sociality. The social model is typically related to the broad and interdisciplinary field labelled disability studies. Whereas the study of impairment in the medical paradigm is concerned with cognitive and bodily (motor function) aspects, the study of disability focuses mostly on the social construction and social consequences of having an impairment (Bickenbach et al., 1999). This book is in dialogue with the social model paradigm, which regards disability as a political “construct” (Shakespeare, 2014, 2016, 2017).

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 5 Disability studies is largely concerned with unpacking injustice, one way or another, and in performing critical examinations of stigmatization and discrimina­ tion in society and institutions to enable and suggest inclusion based on the rede­ sign of societies’ structures (Oliver, 1990; Linton, 2005), for example focusing on the right to equal access to education (de Beco, 2018). Typically, however, dis­ ability studies has taken a postmodern/post-structuralistic approach, focusing on how power and structures predetermine and affect identity construction (Corker & Shakespeare, 2002; Dirth & Branscombe, 2018). This is particularly the case in research based in gender and queer theory, which discusses issues of identity con­ struction, biological markers and structural oppression, building on, among others, Foucault’s studies of the structural normalization of, for example sexuality (Fou­ cault, 1979), Goffman’s studies of stigmatization (Goffman, 1963b), queer theory (Butler, 1988), and related concepts about the discursive production of identity through performative acts. The majority of critical disability studies focus on the production of norms and normality (the “normal” abled/non-disabled/disabled body) as something that researchers in general (in the medical paradigm) take for granted, but which should be subjected to scrutiny. However, while an EM/CA position agrees that dichotomies like normal/abnormal, typical/atypical, competent/incompetent, etc. are analytically problematic, it diverges from disability studies by not having a pre­ defined focus on the “construction” or importance of disability at all. It is impor­ tant not to presume that disability or the impairment of vision is relevant for the accomplishment of situated activities. While it is a medical fact that VIP do have an impaired sense, our approach is that there might be all sorts of asymmetries in inter­ action regarding not only sensory capacities, but also access to sensory resources, cognitive abilities, levels and types of knowledge, etc., and that the relevance of these features cannot be determined from the outside. One way to describe the dif­ ference between seeing/visually impaired people is, as Abrahamson et al. (2019, p. 297) suggest: “[those] participants with heterogenous access to communication resources [and those without]”. But this is just one way of understanding impaired persons, who also are describable from an endless list of features such as age, race, gender, occupation, nationality, income, height, weight, hair colour, etc. Just as these features might or might not be relevant in situated encounters, visual impair­ ment might or might not show up as relevant. In addition, it should be noted that there is no such thing as a sensorily perfect human being which can, in radical terms, be anticipated. This leads to the fact, that each and every situation is “only actually found out” (Garfinkel, 2002, p. 96) as endogenously produced by just those present persons having just this or that sensory impairment – or any other ascribable characteristics. Contrary to approaches in disability studies that presume disability to be a prev­ alent “socially constructed” problem, and contrary to medical approaches that pre­ sume that the impaired sense a priori has consequences for everyday life, we adopt a radical ethnomethodological perspective of indifference (Garfinkel & Sacks, 1970; Garfinkel, 1991; Pollner, 2012). Instead of trying to solve “problems” by anticipating their existence, we should treat actions and practices as phenomena to

6

Brian L. Due

be investigated in quotidian circumstances. According to Garfinkel and Sacks, eth­ nomethodological studies should “describe members’ accounts of formal structures wherever and by whomever they are done, while abstaining from all judgements of their adequacy, value, importance, necessity, practicality, success, or consequenti­ ality” (Garfinkel & Sacks, 1970, p. 346). People with impairments can be studied in practical and interactional contexts without a priori focusing on the identity of being/not being disabled, competent, or experiencing social problems and social exclusion. Following Maynard (2005), the marking of problems (of any kind in practice and interaction) is, in any case, a member’s designation, not an analytic one: “ethnomethodological and conversation analysis asks about what exactly and precisely goes on in interaction whether or not participants perceive or sense deviance and disability then and there” (Maynard, 2005, p. 520). This requires that it is shown precisely how – if at all, and for all practical purposes (Garfinkel, 1967; Psathas, 1980) – disability and impairment are made relevant within unfolding situations. This means that contrary to most of the research within disability studies, which is concerned with criticism and political programmes, an EM/CA approach seeks, as its primary aim, not to solve anything, but to treat each and any instance as a phenomenon to be investigated in detail. This should enable an analytical precision from within, which does not presuppose any form of either identity, biological marker, competence, (dis)abilities, or other forms of membership categories to be of relevance a priori (Sacks, 1989; Schegloff, 1997). EM/CA studies of disability and impairment Studies of disability from an ethnomethodological and/or conversation-analytical perspective are not new. Not only did early ethnomethodologists study people with impairment, but impaired persons themselves also conducted autoethnographic, ethnomethodological self-studies. For instance, Albert Robillard, who suffered from paralysis, studied what he termed the Meaning of a Disability (Robillard, 1999). When he began to suffer the symptoms of motor-neuron disease, he realized he was a living laboratory for revealing the taken-for-granted methods people use to accomplish activities. With his communication restricted by loss of speech and paralysis, Robillard experienced frustration in attempting to make himself under­ stood by others. He showed how the “fabric of self” is achieved through “real time” communication (Robillard, 1994). Another early account of impairment and realtime communication is Goode’s (1994) study of children born deaf and blind, with no formal language capacities. Among other things, Goode showed the production of these children as impaired within institutional settings, in and through unfold­ ing practices. Other recent EM/CA studies of deafblind people in particular, using tactile communication resources, are Iwasaki et al. (2019) and Willoughby et al. (2019). (See the section titled “EM/CA research on visual impairment as a practi­ cal and interactional accomplishment” for more state-of-the-art description of EM/ CA studies of VIP.) In these ethnomethodological studies, disability is seen as an emerging social-cultural production, and as such it may work as an ascribed mem­ bership category for people. EM/CA treats the member “as [like] any other feature

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 7 of a setting – i.e., as an indigenously produced, accountable feature of the event” (Goode, 2007, p. 13). Therefore, membership categories or identity categories (e.g. as being “disabled” or “abled”, competent/incompetent etc.) are produced in and through culturally embedded practices and interactional contexts (Antaki & Widdi­ combe, 1998; Zimmerman, 1998). It is in and through culturally recognizable prac­ tices that disability is constructed as disability. Membership categorization analysis (MCA) is a specific branch of ethnomethodology that deals with culture in action (Hester & Eglin, 1997). This methodology focuses on identities in interaction and on the different membership categorization devices (MCDs) that members use to ascribe membership of recognizable cultural categories to themselves and others (Stokoe, 2012). When a disability such as visual impairment is made into its own topic and focus, MCA becomes highly relevant. However, MCA has rarely focused on dis­ ability, and when it has done so, it has been primarily in relation to intellectual (Frankena et al., 2019) or cognitive issues such as attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) (Schubert et al., 2009; Evaldsson, 2014), or with a specific focus on children (Hester, 1998) or relatives’ accounts of children with disability (Aus­ tin & Fitzgerald, 2007). MCA has been used to study “atypical interactions” related to communication problems acquired through aphasia (for an overview see, e.g. Rasmussen (2013)), but to my knowledge, no prior research has focused on visual impairment from an MCA perspective (Chapter 6 of this book being an exception). As briefly mentioned earlier, the majority of EM/CA research on disability has focused on issues with communication, specifically related to impairments that affect the ability to talk and interact, and as such has foregrounded language competence as a key feature (Rasmussen et al., 2012). This field has specifically developed into what has become known as “atypical interaction” (for overviews, see Antaki & Wilkinson, 2013; Wilkinson et al., 2020), with a focus on language and communication disorders. “Disability identities” have been studied specifi­ cally with regard to autism (Maynard, 2005; Renshaw et al., 2014), intellectual impairment (Antaki et al., 2007, 2015; Antaki, 2013), aphasia (Beeke et al., 2014; Goodwin, 1995, 2006; Wilkinson, 2014), and dementia (Kristiansen et al., 2019). Although these different populations have a range of impairments and consequently experience all sorts of social problems, the field of “atypical interaction” focuses on people for whom frustrations in communication are experienced as a permanent fixture of daily life. Visually impaired people, on the other hand, do not have prob­ lems with language-understanding or language-production in general. Being blind does not produce “atypical” verbal interactions, in the sense of trouble with lexical constructions. Although there might be more repairs (as in “atypical interaction” in general (Antaki & Wilkinson, 2013, p. 535)), these are not related to language competence as such, but to aspects of seeing. Hence, the study of VIP does not really belong to the field of “atypical interac­ tion” as it is classically understood. That said, there are still many overlaps with the broad focus on disability – in particular, the seminal work of Charles Goodwin, who studied his father Chil, who suffered from aphasia (Goodwin, 1995, 2003). One key finding in his work was the notion of collaboration and building on resources

8

Brian L. Due

provided by co-participants, which he later came to term “co-operative action” (Goodwin, 2017). The concept of co-operative action applies to many contexts, but it is particularly useful for describing people with an impairment who build on visual resources provided by other participants in interaction for accomplishing perception – as shown, for example by Due (2021a). EM/CA research on visual impairment as a practical and interactional accomplishment Garfinkel called marginal cases involving VIP “natural experiments” (Rawls et al., 2020, p. 8ff). He writes: “EM’s ‘Heideggerian’ uses of incongruities of bodily impairments and brain injuries and illnesses are perspicuous in revealing the (‘hid­ den’) transparent work of achieved coherence” (Garfinkel, 1996, p. 17). The idea of settings, persons, situations, and troublemakers as “incongruities” that reveal morality, order and tacit, taken-for-granted practices was already part of Garfin­ kel’s famous analysis of the “atypical” person, Agnes – the “intersexed person” (Garfinkel, 1967, p. 118ff). Similarly, understanding VIP’s social practices may reveal not only what constitutes ordinary activities when being visually impaired, but also aspects of what we all occasionally do to achieve the taken-for-granted (cf. Nishizaka, 2020). Garfinkel also has these wonderful sections in the book Eth­ nomethodology’s Program (2002) about “sight impairment as a perspicuous set­ ting” (pp. 212ff). From studying specific cases of Helen and Sherry in the kitchen, while having guests over and collectively going to the coffee urn at the university, we learn specific details of settings that otherwise go unnoticed. With regard to queueing, Garfinkel for instance concludes: “Helen taught us to see and examine the organizational contrast between the local interactional crush as a serving proce­ dure and the work of a formatted queue” (p. 215). Perspicuous settings may reveal orderly features in their concrete details. It is in and through the practicality of living with the impaired sense – the natural breaching of moral orders for example queuing, cooking, or having guests over – that ordinary aspects of society may become “observably visibly, witnessably” (p. 215) accountable. For example, walking and navigating from A to B while sighted can be difficult if you are in a new location and you need to read and understand a map, whereas the practice of walking a straight route and turning around corners in hallways is an uncomplicated and unnoticeable accomplishment for a sighted person with no other impairments. They are just walking. However, even the simplest walk­ ing activity requires a complex coordination of the body relative to the chang­ ing environment and the actions of other participants. Studying such practices may also reveal the ordinarily taken-for-granted phenomenal details that go into doing such a walk. This has been known since the early days of ethnomethodol­ ogy, as exemplified by George Psathas’s studies of practical reasoning in mobile situations. He was particularly interested in one of the most obvious issues related to loss of vision – namely, how to find your way in the world. In several stud­ ies (e.g. Psathas, 1976, 1992), he investigated navigation, mobility, orientation, wayfinding, and walking as practical accomplishments. Several studies by Marc

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 9 Relieu also focused on walking and talking and the spatial embeddedness of talk (Morel & Relieu, 2011; Quéré & Relieu, 2001; Relieu, 1994). Most research on visual impairment from a video-ethnographic EM/CA perspective has been con­ cerned with mobility and navigation. Brian Due and Simon Lange studied the use of the white cane (Due & Lange, 2018b), the guide dog (Due, 2021b; Due & Lange, 2018a), and obstacle detection (Due & Lange, 2018c). Due also studied navigation with robotic technologies, using the four-legged robot named Spot as a “guide dog” (Due, 2023a, 2023b). In addition, Chloé Mondémé has provided studies of navigation with the guide dog (Mondémé, 2011, 2013, 2017, 2020). What these studies reveal, in general, is that for visually impaired people, collaboration and coordination are much more complex and orderly accomplishments than described in mainstream approaches. A few other studies have examined aspects other than navigation. vom Lehn stud­ ied the practice of exploring objects within a museum (Lehn, 2010), as did Kreplak and Mondémé, focusing on descriptions by sighted guides (Kreplak & Mondémé, 2014). Avital and Streeck (2011) studied social interaction among blind children, while Hirvonen and Schmitt (2018) studied collaboration between a sighted and a visually impaired person working together on a train station. Abrahamson et al. (2019) studied how blind and visually impaired mathematics students must rely on accessible materials such as tactile diagrams to learn mathematics. Simone and Galatolo (2020, 2021) have studied how VIP accomplish indoor climbing through instructed body movements provided by guides. The use of assistive technologies has also been studied (Due et al., 2017) – in particular, computer vision and natural language processing (like Google Home systems) are promising for VIP (Due & Lüchow, 2023, forthcoming; Reyes Cruz, 2021; Reyes-Cruz et al., 2020, 2022). However, few researchers approach visual impairment from an EM/CA perspective, and many of the previously mentioned researchers contribute chapters in this book. Phenomenal fields and respecifications in the wake of studying  visually impaired people From an EM/CA perspective, studying blind and visually impaired people engaged in everyday activities involves a focus on these activities’ circumstantial details and how actions and practices are made recognizable. We therefore study settings that Garfinkel, in his “misreading” of Merleau-Ponty, called phenomenal fields, in which the emphasis is on how members – not analysts – define the space in and through which they are accomplishing actions (Garfinkel, 2002). In this book, the use of the term phenomenal field is more specifically tied to the gestalt-contexture of activities and the spaces within which activities occur. Any phenomenal field is constituted not from the outside, through theoretically imposing concepts, but by examining the “locally produced, endogenously achieved, naturally accountable coherent haecceities that constitute as coherent instructed actions the phenomenal fields of ordinary human ‘jobs’” (Garfinkel, 1996, p. 20). Garfinkel also performed a “misreading” of Gurwitsch’s understanding of gestalt contextures (Eisenmann & Lynch, 2021; Lynch & Eisenmann, 2022; Meyer,

10

Brian L. Due

2022). This is highly relevant for studying visually impaired people, because Gar­ finkel established the grounds for understanding perception and the organiza­ tion of orderly details as a praxeological, social, and bodily achievement. In any given case, the phenomenal field and the perception within it are achieved through embodied work. Society and human sociality cannot be imagined for real; they are only discoverable. In contrast to mainstream “constructive analysis” (Button et al., 2022), the chapters in this book thus demonstrate “locally produced, natu­ rally accountable phenomena of order” (Garfinkel, 1991). Not only do the chapters provide novel findings about phenomena of order within commonplace situations, they also provide grounds for several forms of respecification. Studies of visually impaired people in social interactions constitute perspicuous settings for performing respecifications with, as Garfinkel writes: “Heideggerian uses” of handicaps, illnesses, disability, and their affiliated equipmental “aids to independent living,” as well as with inverting lenses and other bodily, characterological, organizational, and procedural “trouble­ makers.” With these “troublemakers”, work’s incarnate social organizational details are revealed by overcoming their transparency in their topically ordi­ nary concerted recurrencies of ongoingly developing phenomenal fields of ordered details of generality, uniformity, interchangeable populations, and the rest – i.e., in ordered details of structure. (Garfinkel, 1996, p. 12) The precise details of phenomenal fields are, from a formal analytical perspec­ tive, easily missed, because they are seen but unnoticed, taken for granted and seemingly unproblematic. Studying VIP leads one to also often study troublesome cases that make ordinary phenomena and their settings available (“perspicuous”) for detailed observation (cf. Lynch & Eisenmann, 2022). According to Garfinkel, respecifications are concerned with establishing new understandings of phenomena of order in detail and with a concreteness that would otherwise go unnoticed by scholars and research programmes. Some of the more substantial respecifications that emerge from studying VIP are (1) distributed per­ ception; (2) the visual organization of the spatial world (ocularcentrism); (3) the identity fallacy; and (4) the visibility paradox of conducting visual, video-based analysis of VIP. The following sections briefly describe these themes. The distribution of perception – multisensoriality and co-operative action

The senses and perception are relevant topics when studying VIP because one central sense is impaired. Cognitive studies describe how this can lead to sen­ sory substitution, in which the parts of the brain used to process visual informa­ tion receive input from other sensory systems (Bach-y-Rita, 2002; Proulx et al., 2014). However, similar kinds of transformations occur in social practice. Study­ ing VIP naturally leads to questions about sensations, sensory experiences (e.g. Fele & Liberman, 2020) and multisensoriality (Mondada, 2019). The function of

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 11 the visually impaired person’s cane, for instance, has been understood as a sensory extension, for example metaphorically as “the blind man’s eye” (Descartes, 1988, p. 58). Although the white cane extends “the scope and active radius of touch”, as Merleau-Ponty puts it (2002, p. 165), it nevertheless possesses specific affordances for what it can detect and what it cannot. Although it is not really an extended “eye”, but more akin to an extended, tactile, feeling and exploring “finger” (Due & Lange, 2018a; Kleege, 2016), the key point is that being visually impaired forces us to investigate sensations in new ways. A focus on the senses naturally leads to a focus on perception. Studying VIP engaged in everyday activities from an EM/ CA perspective can therefore lead to a respecification of otherwise typically cog­ nitively understood phenomena as also being observable, accountable practices. The cognitive and medical description of perception states that signals from the sensory system (physical or chemical stimulation) go through the nervous system to the brain, and this is how the senses produce perception of the world. How­ ever, seeing or feeling something does not just consist of stimuli-response mechan­ ics, but of human experience embedded in concrete environments (Gibson, 1979; Coulter & Parsons, 1990). Being visually impaired means relying more on talk and bodily sensations in and through touch, haptics, and the vestibular sense, which involves movement and balance (sensing our body in space), and the proprioceptic sense, which we use to understand where our body parts are in relation to each other. People who became visually impaired later in life, for example Hull (1997), report that not only are other senses enhanced when vision is impaired, but that they also experience a stronger whole-body sensation (Hull, 1997, p. 204). Collaboration, coordination, and social construction of action, or (as Goodwin termed it) co-operative action, are pervasive phenomena. Generally speaking, people tend to build action in concert (Goodwin, 2007). A particularly interesting phenomenon emerging from the study of VIP is how perception also may be a dis­ tributed, co-operative phenomenon (for a detailed outline of the concept, see Due, 2021a). As such, studying VIP may lead to interesting respecifications of sensation, perception, and co-operative action and in that respect may also respecify concepts such as joint attention (Kidwell & Zimmerman, 2007) as being more than just a shared visual practice (cf. Chapter 5 of this book). The ocularcentric design of the spatial world

Georgina Kleege, professor in art and disability, and herself visually impaired, pre­ sents this anecdote: Some weeks after September 11, 2001, the blind musician Ray Charles was interviewed about his rendition of “America the Beautiful,” which received a good deal of airtime during the period of heightened patriotism that fol­ lowed that event. The interviewer, Jim Gray, commented that Charles should consider himself lucky that his blindness prevented him from viewing the images of the World Trade Center’s collapse, and the Pentagon in flames: “Was this maybe one time in your life where not having the ability to see was

12

Brian L. Due a relief?” Like Diderot, the interviewer assumed that true horror can only be evinced through the eyes. Many eyewitness accounts of the event however, were strikingly nonvisual. (Kleege, 2016, p. 450)

Studying VIP and learning from their multisensorial engagement with a visually designed world prompts a respecification of both the historically and culturally constructed primacy of vision, and the role and meaning of a spatial, material, and cultural world that mostly is designed by and for sighted people. In the West, sight has typically been described as the most essential of the senses (Jay, 1994; Classen, 2020). This has produced bias, not only in the research, but also in the whole design and architecture of our societies. Almost every philosophical and psychological treatment of perception and sensation, from Aristotle (1987) to Descartes (2001) to Berkeley (2008) and up to the present, has treated issues of perception as synony­ mous with issues of vision. Consequently, the world can be said to be designed, con­ structed, and organized by and for sighted people, that is it is ocularcentric (Brook, 2002; Due & Lange, 2018c; Hull, 1997; Macpherson, 2006). Physical public space is essentially designed by and for people who have the ability to see it. The same goes for other types of disabilities – urban environments are essentially designed by and for able-bodied people in general (Gleeson, 2002; Titchkosky, 2011; Sol­ datic et al., 2014). However, for visually impaired people, space must be estab­ lished through multimodal and multisensory practices (Psathas, 1992; Hull, 1997), for example tactile sensations or using hearing to determine the distance to an object (echo location) (Due & Lange, 2018a). The study of VIP not only prompts a critical respecification of the visual organization of the world, but also provides opportu­ nities for a critical examination of the kind of work in which the other senses are engaged in sense-making processes (Due, forthcoming; Due & Toft, forthcoming). The identity fallacy – presuming membership categorial relevance

Although visually impaired people are arguably a marginalized group (Boys, 2017), we should not proceed on the basis of normative or critical perspectives per se. The reason for not proceeding in this fashion is that while problems can arise from the ocularcentric design of our world and its cultural production of “disability identities”, this might not be something to which the members themselves are ori­ ented. In the medical model, the presumption is that a visually impaired person is affected by their impairment at all times. However, in the social model, the person is presumed to be unfairly constrained by society, culture, work, institutions, and so on. In both cases, the identity (regardless of whether it is regarded as biological in nature or as a “social construct”) is presumed to be omnirelevant. This might be called the identity fallacy. The study of VIP from an EM/CA perspective enables a respecification of this dichotomic model within disability studies by focusing on the practices and resources that “underpin the possibility of description employed by members, discoverable, and only discoverable, in the lived detail of ordinary actions” (Smith et al., 2020, p. 2).

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 13 The visibility bias – looking at visually impaired people

One principle in EM/CA is to study witnessable, observable, exhibited, and display­ able phenomena as they are, that is as they occur as practical action in everyday detail (Garfinkel & Sacks, 1970). From the very beginning, there has been an inter­ est in studying the “immediately witnessable details of immortal ordinary society” (Garfinkel, 1996, p. 8). What is striking about this is that the interest in people’s practices is intertwined with a visually biased terminology. According to the Cam­ bridge Dictionary,2 what can be witnessed relates ordinarily to what a person sees as happening (e.g. a crime or an accident); what is observed relates to watching the way something happens, or the way someone does something (e.g. to learn more about it); what is exhibited relates to something that is shown publicly; and what is displayed is normally related to the arrangement of something that can be seen. It is striking how these central terms in ethnomethodology are visual categories. Consequently, one might argue, visual bias is embedded in both the approach to everyday life and in EM/CA research. This is partly to do with the ocularcentrism of our society more generally, but methodologically speaking, it may also relate to ethnomethodology’s original observations about the visibility (etc.) of action. Early conversation analysis emphasized talk and telephone conversations (Sche­ gloff, 1968; Sacks et al., 1974), and as such was highly oriented to that which is hearable in interaction. However, since the beginning of the 1980s, EM/CA has developed in a multimodal direction (Goodwin, 1979, 1981; Heath, 1982, 1986). The multimodal, visual, and embodied turn (Nevile, 2015), as facilitated by the easier use of smaller video cameras (Erickson, 2011), caused a boom in the study of the visually available and tangible world. This is also evident in visual anthro­ pology, sociology, and ethnography (Ingold, 2000; Pauwels, 2011; Pink, 2013) in general, which favour studies of the visual aspects of everyday lives. As Lisa van den Scott notes, in a review of the state of the art, researchers “prioritize sight and the meaning making of imagery” (van den Scott, 2018, p. 721). This has surely also been the case in EM/CA, in which sight has often been assumed to be a member’s resource within action production and interaction. Gaze has been a topic in itself ever since the “beginning” of interactional studies (e.g. Goffman, 1963a; Kendon, 1967; Goodwin, 1980; Heath, 1984). This sensory bias continues within CA to this day (e.g. Sidnell, 2006; Rossano et al., 2009; Kend­ rick & Holler, 2017; Licoppe & Figeac, 2018; Mondada, 2018, 2019). Seeing has (tacitly) been taken to be the principal mode of perception (Vannini et al., 2011). Vision is surely an important resource for achieving intersubjectivity through gaze and body movements, and in the use of objects by all of those with “normal sight” (i.e. 20/20 vision, cf. note 1). However, since bodies and their behaviours are avail­ able to others through acts of seeing (Gibson & vom Lehn, 2019), VIP also regu­ larly adjust to the ocularcentrism of the social world by, for example smiling at other people (Hull, 1997) or otherwise bodily orienting to their perception (see Chapter 5 in this book). What I describe as the visibility bias relates to the fact that EM/CA has been (perhaps excessively) focused on visual resources and actions. Even in the growing

14

Brian L. Due

literature on multisensoriality, visual sensation is central (e.g. Edmonds & Greiff­ enhagen, 2020; Pillet-Shore, 2020) – the exceptions being tasting (Fele & Liber­ man, 2020; Wiggins & Keevallik, 2020) and smelling (Mondada, 2018). Studies of VIP could lead to a respecification of sociality as being more than “just” visually organized. The visibility bias therefore also requires a respecification of the catego­ ries we use to describe practices. I can talk about seeing something without using words like “see”, and vice versa – I can talk about seeing something without being able to see (Ryle, 1949; Wittgenstein, 1953; Coulter & Parsons, 1990; Sharrock & Coulter, 1998; Due, 2016; Nishizaka, 2003, 2018). This is why it makes sense for VIP to use visual metaphors. The respecification required in studies of VIP there­ fore entails the proposal that visual categories like witness, observe, exhibit, and display may be used – as is perhaps already the case – in more abstract ways to describe practices that are produced to be publicly recognizable and available for other sensations. Finally, one could argue that learning about VIP’s life worlds would require methods other than a visual methodology like video recordings. For that reason, most of the projects referenced in this book are combined with ethnography during the collection of empirical material. However, only the transcribed video material is reported and used as data for the analysis. The world is de facto ocularcentrically designed and organized, and therefore VIP adjust and orient to these circumstances by producing actions to be witnessable for others. In addition, VIP cannot report about what they do not see (or otherwise notice), but which is still relevant for the shared accomplishment of current activities (e.g. when a guide dog tacitly and unnoticeably leads them around an obstacle (Due & Lange, 2018a)). The poten­ tial bias and problems associated with these studies are because the seeing, video recording researcher is analyzing a world that is unfamiliar to them, and therefore they are unable to truly take a member’s perspective. What Garfinkel and Wieder (1992, p. 182) called the “unique adequacy requirement of methods” refers to how the researcher must be “vulgarly competent in the local production and reflexively natural accountability of the phenomenon of order he is ‘studying’”. On this basis, ethnomethodologists have explored in depth, and from the inside, phenomena such as learning to play the piano (Sudnow, 1978), doing advanced mathematics (Liv­ ingston, 1986), understanding laboratory science (Lynch & Woolgar, 1988), living with impairment (Robillard, 1999) or going shopping (Hester & Francis, 2003). However, a member’s perspective is not sufficient for, nor a guarantee of, a more truthful analysis. The idea that researchers must try to have – and exhibit in their analysis – a vulgar competence in “the local production of the phenomenon of order” (Garfinkel and Wieder, 1992), is not the same as maintaining any such local member’s perspective throughout the analytical work. Structure of the book The chapters in this book provide analysis and findings from everyday activities in which VIP are engaged in managing obstacles and achieving locally important goals. However, this is not a handbook thematically organized around, for example

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 15 vision illness; education; sport and physical exercise; assistive technology; under­ standing cultural aesthetics; socio-emotional and sexual aspects of visual impair­ ment; orientation, mobility, habitation, and rehabilitation; and sensory substitution or life phases (e.g. Ravenscroft, 2019). Although some of these ordinary topics will be touched upon, the book is organized around the kinds of topics that are most prevalent within the (small) community of EM/CA researchers working with VIP. The first part consists of chapters dealing with practices for navigating in urban environments. Marc Relieu describes the production and reception of help proposals offered by pedestrians to visually impaired persons during a course in locomotion and orientation. Chloé Mondémé focuses on the resources for shared intelligibility in interaction between visually impaired persons and guide dogs in navigational tasks. The second part of the book presents studies that deal with “inclusion/exclusion” from society. In her study of the roles and tasks of visually impaired team members in collaborative audio-description, Maija Hirvonen describes how blindness can be a form of expertise. Louise Lüchow describes how VIP recipient-design actions to be relevant for seeing colleagues in a workplace setting. These studies thus reveal how inclusion/exclusion are vague, even useless categories when conducting more dynamic and interactional work. Rikke Nielsen explores issues that arise when visually impaired persons use new technologies and encounter problems. It shows how VIP who otherwise seem to produce actions that display competence and skills in using technologies deal with being unable to solve technical issues. Jürgen Streeck and Rachel Chen describe “blindisms” in a study of visually impaired chil­ dren interacting in school. They show how at a first glance a blind child appears to be ensconced in a cocoon spun by her own movements but that her behaviours are responsive to the social environment, and other interactional participants attune their own speech and movements to her rhythm. Rather than focusing on the indi­ vidual child and assuming that her behaviour is socially disruptive, this chapter shows the importance of investigating how the interacting system accommodates and uses this rhythmic behaviour. This chapter differs a bit from the other chapters in this volume as it utilizes some semiotic terminology as part of the explanation model, which is more aligned with Goodwin’s semiotics than ethnomethodology. The third part zooms in on sensorial practices for touching objects and tech­ nologies. Brian L. Due, Rui Sakaida, Hiro Yuki Nisisawa, and Yasusuke Minami describe embodied explorations, with a focus on the multisensorial work of VIP aimed at recognizing object features in social interaction. Dirk vom Lehn focuses on practices of experiencing art via the hands and eyes of others, that is interaction between VIP and sighted guides in art museums. The final part of the book consists of commentaries on the fundamental method­ ological consequences of the study of VIP for EM/CA. Lorenza Mondada describes how this book relates to studies of the senses and multisensoriality. She shows how vision is not always the most privileged and first-recognized sense for apprehending the world even for sighted persons and on the other hand, that the access to the world in general is most often not reduced to one sense but is built on multiple senses – or multisensoriality. While this book highlights the importance of considering

16

Brian L. Due

blind and visually impaired people when developing a critical understanding of a society that is de facto built on the primacy of vision, Mondada’s chapter considers situations in which sighted people cannot rely on vision or encounter the limits of their vision. In the last chapter, Gitte Rasmussen focuses on how researching visu­ ally impaired people can contribute to a renewed and expanded multimodal under­ standing of the field characterized as “atypical interaction”. The approach taken in this book is that visual impairment is an ongoing practical “accomplishment” that shows up as being relevant or irrelevant within unfolding situations in very dif­ ferent ways, which cannot be predefined as “atypical”. The final discussion chap­ ter by Rasmussen seeks to connect the study of visual impairment to the field or “program” of “atypical interaction” while at the same time using the findings from this book’s chapters as a lever to move the programme of “atypical interaction”. Whether the EM/CA approach to studying visual impairment should be related to the “program” of “atypical interaction” is an ongoing discussion, and Chapter 11 contains positions with which not all ethnomethodologists or conversation analysts would agree. This book thus also demonstrates that there are divergences not only within the wider literature but also within EM/CA itself. The EM/CA approach is not reducible to a unitary perspective. Acknowledgements Thanks to the series editors K. Neil Jenkings and Andrew Carlin and the anony­ mous reviewer for fruitful comments and suggestions on an earlier version of this chapter. Notes 1 The term visually impaired persons (in its short form, VIPs) is used throughout the book to describe people with blindness and low visual acuity (VA). This refers to the clarity of vision. VA is a person’s ability to recognize small details with precision at a distance. Normal sight is termed 20/20 vision. This means, that at 6 meters (or 20 feet), the eye is able to separate contours that are approximately 1.75 mm apart. Vision of 6/12 (or 20/40) corresponds to lower performance, while vision of 6/3 (20/10) corresponds to better performance. Vision impairment is legally defined as either severe impairment (6/60, 20/200) (1% or less than normal sight) or blindness (worse than 3/60) (WHO, 2017). An individual is considered legally blind if their central visual acuity is 20/200 or lower. 2 These entries are from the 2022 version: https://dictionary.cambridge.org.

References Abrahamson, D., Flood, V. J., Miele, J. A., & Siu, Y.-T. (2019). Enactivism and ethnometh­ odological conversation analysis as tools for expanding Universal Design for Learning: The case of visually impaired mathematics students. ZDM, 51(2), 291–303. https://doi. org/10.1007/s11858-018-0998-1 Antaki, C. (2013). Two conversational practices for encouraging adults with intellectual disabilities to reflect on their activities. Journal of Intellectual Disability Research: JIDR, 57(6), 580–588. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2788.2012.01572.x

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 17 Antaki, C., Finlay, W. M. L., & Walton, C. (2007). Conversational shaping: Staff mem­ bers’ solicitation of talk from people with an intellectual impairment. Qualitative Health Research, 17(10), 1403–1414. https://doi.org/10.1177/1049732307308950 Antaki, C., Richardson, E., Stokoe, E., & Willott, S. (2015). Dealing with the distress of people with intellectual disabilities reporting sexual assault and rape. Discourse Studies. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445615578962 Antaki, C., & Widdicombe, S. (1998). Identities in talk. SAGE Publications. Antaki, C., & Wilkinson, R. (2013). Conversation analysis and the study of atypical popula­ tions. In J. Sidnell & T. Stivers (Eds.), The handbook of conversation analysis (pp. 533– 550). Blackwell Publishers Ltd. Aristotle. (1987). De Anima (on the soul). Penguin Publishing Group. Austin, H., & Fitzgerald, R. (2007). Resisting categorisation: An ordinary mother. Austral­ ian Review of Applied Linguistics, 30(3), 36.1–36.13. https://doi.org/10.2104/ARAL0736 Avital, S., & Streeck, J. (2011). Terra incognita: Social interaction among blind children. In J. Streeck, C. Goodwin, & C. D. LeBaron (Eds.), Embodied interaction. Language and body in the material world (pp. 169–181). Cambridge University Press. Bach-y-Rita, P. (2002). Sensory substitution and qualia. In A. Noë & E. Thompson (Eds.), Vision and mind (pp. 497–514). MIT Press. Bailey, I. L., Hall, A., & Lueck, A. H. (1990). Visual impairment: An overview. American Foundation for the Blind. Beeke, S., Johnson, F., Beckley, F., Heilemann, C., Edwards, S., Maxim, J., & Best, W. (2014). Enabling better conversations between a man with aphasia and his conversation partner: Incorporating writing into turn taking. Research on Language & Social Interac­ tion, 47(3), 292–305. https://doi.org/10.1080/08351813.2014.925667 Berkeley, G. (2008). An essay towards a new theory of vision. Cosimo, Inc. Bickenbach, J. E., Chatterji, S., Badley, E. M., & Üstün, T. B. (1999). Models of disa­ blement, universalism and the international classification of impairments, disabilities and handicaps. Social Science & Medicine, 48(9), 1173–1187. https://doi.org/10.1016/ S0277-9536(98)00441-9 Boys, J. (2017). Disability, space, architecture: A reader. Routledge. Brook, I. (2002). Experiencing interiors: Ocularcentrism and Merleau-Ponty’s redeeming of the role of vision. Journal of the British Society for Phenomenology, 33, 68–77. https:// doi.org/10.1080/00071773.2002.11007361 Brunes, A., Hansen, M., & Heir, T. (2019). Loneliness among adults with visual impairment: Prevalence, associated factors, and relationship to life satisfaction. Health and Quality of Life Outcomes, 17(1), 24. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12955-019-1096-y Butler, J. (1988). Performative acts and gender constitution: An essay in phenomenology and feminist theory. Theatre Journal, 40(4), 519–531. https://doi.org/10.2307/3207893 Button, G., Lynch, M., & Sharrock, W. (2022). Ethnomethodology, conversation analysis and constructive analysis: On formal structures of practical action. Taylor & Francis. Cattaneo, Z., & Vecchi, T. (2011). Blind vision: The neuroscience of visual impairment. MIT Press. Classen, C. (2020). The senses. Encyclopedia.com. www.encyclopedia.com/international/ encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/senses Corker, M., & Shakespeare, T. (2002). Disability/postmodernity: Embodying disability the­ ory. Continuum. Coulter, J., & Parsons, E. D. (1990). The praxiology of perception: Visual orientations and practical action. Inquiry, 33(3), 251–272. https://doi.org/10.1080/00201749008602223 Davis, L. J. (2016). The disability studies reader. Taylor & Francis.

18

Brian L. Due

De Beco, G. (2018). The right to inclusive education: Why is there so much opposition to its implementation? International Journal of Law in Context, 14(3), 396–415. https://doi. org/10.1017/S1744552317000532 Descartes, R. (1988). Selected philosophical writings. Cambridge University Press. Descartes, R. (2001). Discourse on method, optics, geometry, and meteorology. Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. Dirth, T. P., & Branscombe, N. R. (2018). The social identity approach to disability: Bridg­ ing disability studies and psychological science. Psychological Bulletin, 144(12), 1300– 1324. https://doi.org/10.1037/bul0000156 Due, B. L. (2016). Co-constructed imagination space: A multimodal analysis of the inter­ actional accomplishment of imagination during idea-development meetings. CoDesign, 14(3), 1–17. https://doi.org/10.1080/15710882.2016.1263668 Due, B. L. (2021a). Distributed perception: Co-operation between sense-able, actionable, and accountable semiotic agents. Symbolic Interaction, 44(1), 134–162. https://doi. org/10.1002/symb.538 Due, B. L. (2021b). Interspecies intercorporeality and mediated haptic sociality: Distrib­ uting perception with a guide dog. Visual Studies, 1–14. https://doi.org/10.1080/14725 86X.2021.1951620 Due, B. L. (2023a). Guide dog versus robot dog: Assembling visually impaired people with non-human agents and achieving assisted mobility through distributed co-constructed perception. Mobilities, 18(1), 1–19. https://doi.org/10.1080/17450101.2022.2086059 Due, B. L. (2023b). A walk in the park with Robodog: Navigating around pedestrians using a Spot robot as a ‘guide dog’.Space and Culture. https://doi.org/10.1177/12063312231159215 Due, B. L. (forthcoming). Ocularcentric participation frameworks: Dealing with a blind member’s perspective. In P. Haddington, T. Eilittä, A. Kamunen, L. Kohonen-Aho, T. Oit­ tinen, L. Rautiainen, & A. Vatanen (Eds.), Ethnomethodological conversation analysis: Emerging methods and technologies. Routledge. Due, B. L., Kupers, R., Lange, S. B., & Ptito, M. (2017). Technology enhanced vision in blind and visually impaired individuals. Synoptik Foundation research project. CIRCD Working Papers in Social Interaction, 3(1), 1–31. Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018a). Semiotic resources for navigation: A video ethnographic study of blind people’s uses of the white cane and a guide dog for navigating in urban areas. Semiotica, 2018(222), 287–312. https://doi.org/10.1515/sem-2016-0196 Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018b). The Moses effect: The spatial hierarchy and joint accomplishment of a blind person navigating. Space and Culture, 21(2), 129–144. https:// doi.org/10.1177/1206331217734541 Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018c). Troublesome objects: Unpacking ocular-cen­ trism in urban environments by studying blind navigation using video ethnography and ethnomethodology. Sociological Research Online, 24(4), 475–495. https://doi. org/10.1177/1360780418811963 Due, B. L., & Lüchow, L. (2023). The Intelligibility of Haptic Perception in Instructional Sequences: When Visually Impaired People Achieve Object Understanding. Human Stud­ ies. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10746-023-09664-8 Due, B. L., & Lüchow, L. (forthcoming). VUI-speak: There is nothing conversational about “conversational user interfaces”. In I. Bock & F. Muhle (Eds.), Social robots in institu­ tional interaction. Bielefeld University Press. Due, B. L., & Toft, T. L. W. (forthcoming). Ocularcentric interaction: When the socioma­ terial perceptual field priviledge a visual organization. Social interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality.

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 19 Edmonds, D. M., & Greiffenhagen, C. (2020). Configuring prospective sensations: Experi­ menters preparing participants for what they might feel. Symbolic Interaction. https://doi. org/10.1002/symb.485 Eisenmann, C., & Lynch, M. (2021). Introduction to Harold Garfinkel’s ethnomethodo­ logical ‘misreading’ of Aron Gurwitsch on the phenomenal field. Human Studies, 44(1), 1–17. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10746-020-09564-1 Erickson, F. (2011). Uses of video in social research: A brief history. International Journal of Social Research Methodology, 14(3), 179–189. https://doi.org/10.1080/13645579.201 1.563615 Evaldsson, A.-C. (2014). Doing being boys with ADHD: Category memberships and dif­ ferences in SEN classroom practices. Emotional and Behavioural Difficulties, 19(3), 266–283. https://doi.org/10.1080/13632752.2014.883783 Fele, G., & Liberman, K. (2020). Some discovered practices of lay coffee drinkers. Symbolic Interaction. https://doi.org/10.1002/symb.486 Foucault, M. (1979). The history of sexuality. Allen Lane. Frankena, T. K., Naaldenberg, J., Tobi, H., Cruijsen, A. van der, Jansen, H., Valk, H. van S. L., Leusink, G., & Cardol, M. (2019). A membership categorization analysis of roles, activities and relationships in inclusive research conducted by co-researchers with intel­ lectual disabilities. Journal of Applied Research in Intellectual Disabilities, 32(3), 719– 729. https://doi.org/10.1111/jar.12567 Garfinkel, H. (1963). A conception of and experiments with ‘trust’ as a condition of stable concerted actions. In O. J. Harvey (Ed.), Motivation and social interaction. Cognitive determinants (pp. 187–138). The Ronald Press Company. Garfinkel, H. (1967). Studies in ethnomethodology. Prentice Hall. Garfinkel, H. (1991). Respecification: Evidence for locally produced, naturally accountable phenomena of order, logic, reason, meaning, methods, etc. in and of the essential haec­ ceity of immortal ordinary society (I) – An announcement of studies. In G. Button (Ed.), Ethnomethodology and the human sciences (pp. 10–19). Cambridge University Press. Garfinkel, H. (1996). Ethnomethodology’s program. Social Psychology Quarterly, 59(1), 5–21. Garfinkel, H. (2002). Ethnomethodology’s program: Working out Durkeim’s aphorism. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Garfinkel, H., & Sacks, H. L. (1970). On formal structures of practical actions. In J. C. McKinney & E. A. Tiryakian (Eds.), Theoretical sociology: Perspectives and develop­ ments (pp. 338–366). Appleton Century Crofts. Garfinkel, H., & Wieder, D. L. (1992). Two incommensurable, asymmetrically alternate technologies of social analysis. In G. Watson & R. M. Seiler (Eds.), Text in context: Stud­ ies in ethnomethodology (pp. 175–206). SAGE. Gibson, J. J. (1979). The ecological approach to visual perception. Houghton Mifflin. Gibson, W., & vom Lehn, D. (2019). Seeing as accountable action: The interactional accomp­ lishment of sensorial work. Current Sociology. https://doi.org/10.1177/0011392119857460 Gleeson, B. (2002). Geographies of disability. Routledge. Goffman, E. (1963a). Behavior in public places: Notes on the social organization of gather­ ing. Free Press of Glencoe. Goffman, E. (1963b). Stigma notes on the management of spoiled identity. Prentice-Hall. Goode, D. (1994). A world without words: The social construction of children born deaf and blind. Temple University Press. Goode, D. (2003). Ethnomethodology and disability studies: A reflection on Robillard. Human Studies, 26(4), 493–503.

20

Brian L. Due

Goode, D. (2007). Playing with my dog Katie: An ethnomethodological study of dog–human interaction. Purdue University Press. Goodwin, C. (1979). The interactive construction of a sentence in natural conversation. In G. Psathas (Ed.), Everyday language: Studies in ethnomethodology (pp. 97–121). Irvington Publishers. Goodwin, C. (1980). Restarts, pauses, and the achievement of a state of mutual gaze at turnbeginning. Sociological Inquiry, 50(3–4), 272–302. Goodwin, C. (1981). Conversational Organization: Interaction between speakers and hear­ ers. Academic Press. Goodwin, C. (1995). Co-constructing meaning in conversations with an aphasic man. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 28(3), 233–260. Goodwin, C. (2003). Conversation and brain damage. Oxford University Press. Goodwin, C. (2006). Human sociality as mutual orientation in a rich interactive environ­ ment: Multimodal utterances and pointing in Aphasia. In N. Enfield & S. C. Levinson (Eds.), Roots of human sociality (pp. 96–125). Berg Press. Goodwin, C. (2007). Participation, stance and affect in the organization of activities. Dis­ course and Society, 18(1), 53–74. Goodwin, C. (2017). Co-operative action. Cambridge University Press. Heath, C. (1982). Preserving the consultation: Medical record cards and professional con­ duct. Sociology of Health & Illness, 4(1), 56–74. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-9566. ep11345612 Heath, C. (1984). Participation in the medical consultation: The co-ordination of verbal and nonverbal behaviour between the doctor and patient. Sociology of Health & Illness, 6(3), 311–388. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-9566.ep10491964 Heath, C. (1986). Body movement and speech in medical interaction. Cambridge University Press. Hersh, M., & Johnson, M. A. (2010). Assistive technology for visually impaired and blind people. Springer Science & Business Media. Hester, S. (1998). Describing ‘deviance’ in school: Recognizably educational psychological problems. In Identities in talk (pp. 133–150). Sage Publications Ltd. Hester, S., & Eglin, P. (1997). Culture in action: Studies in membership categorization analysis. International Institute for Ethnomethodology and Conversation Analysis & Uni­ versity Press of America. Hester, S., & Francis, D. (2003). Analysing visually available mundane order: A walk to the supermarket. Visual Studies, 18(1), 36–46. https://doi.org/10.1080/14725860320001000 056 Hirvonen, M., & Schmitt, R. (2018). Blindheit als Ressource: Zur professionellen Kompe­ tenz eines blinden Teammitglieds bei der gemeinsamen Anfertigung einer Audiodeskrip­ tion. Gesprächsforschung, 19, 449–477. Hull, J. M. (1997). On sight & insight: A journey into the world of blindness. Oneworld. Ingold, T. (2000). The perception of the environment: Essays on livelihood, dwelling and skill. Psychology Press. Iwasaki, S., Bartlett, M., Manns, H., & Willoughby, L. (2019). The challenges of multimo­ dality and multi-sensoriality: Methodological issues in analyzing tactile signed interac­ tion. Journal of Pragmatics, 143, 215–227. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2018.05.003 Jay, M. (1994). D owncast eyes: The denigration of vision in twentieth-century French thought. University of California Press. Kendon, A. (1967). Some functions of gaze-direction in social interaction. Acta Psycho­ logica, 26(Supplement C), 22–63. https://doi.org/10.1016/0001-6918(67)90005-4

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 21 Kendrick, K. H., & Holler, J. (2017). Gaze direction signals response preference in conver­ sation. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 50(1), 12–32. https://doi.org/10.10 80/08351813.2017.1262120 Kidwell, M., & Zimmerman, D. H. (2007). Joint attention as action. Journal of Pragmatics, 39(3), 592–611. Kleege, G. (2016). Blindness and visual culture: An eyewitness account. In L. J. Davis (Ed.), The disability studies reader (pp. 447–455). Taylor & Francis Group. Kreplak, Y., & Mondémé, C. (2014). Artworks as touchable objects. In M. Nevile, P. Had­ dington, T. Heinemann, & M. Rauniomaa (Eds.), Interacting with objects: Language, materiality, and social activity (pp. 295–318). John Benjamins Publishing. https://benja­ mins.com/#catalog/books/z.186.13kre/details Kristiansen, E. D., Rasmussen, G., & Andersen, E. M. (2019). Practices for making residents’ wishes fit institutional constraints: A case of manipulation in dementia care. Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, 44(1), 7–13. https://doi.org/10.1080/14015439.2019.1554851 Licoppe, C., & Figeac, J. (2018). Gaze patterns and the temporal organization of multiple activities in mobile smartphone uses. Human–Computer Interaction, 33(5–6), 311–334. https://doi.org/10.1080/07370024.2017.1326008 Linton, S. (2005). What is disability studies? PMLA, 120(2), 518–522. Livingston, E. (1986). The ethnomethodological foundations of mathematics. Routledge & Kegan Paul. Lynch, M., & Eisenmann, C. (2022). Transposing gestalt phenomena from visual fields to practical and interactional work: Garfinkel’s and Sacks’ social praxeology. Philosophia Scientiæ. Travaux d’histoire et de Philosophie Des Sciences, 26–3, Article 26–23. https:// doi.org/10.4000/philosophiascientiae.3619 Lynch, M., & Woolgar, S. (1988). Representation in scientific practice. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Macpherson, H. (2006). Landscape’s ocular-centrism – And beyond? In B. Tress, G. Tress, G. Fry, & P. Opdam (Eds.), From landscape research to landscape planning. Aspects of integration, education and application (pp. 95–104). Springer. Macpherson, H. (2017). Walkers with visual-impairments in the British countryside: Pictur­ esque legacies, collective enjoyments and well-being benefits. Journal of Rural Studies, 51, 251–258. Maynard, D. (2005). Social actions, gestalt coherence, and designations of disability: Les­ sons from and about autism. Social Problems, 52(4), 499–524. https://doi.org/10.1525/ SP.2005.52.4.499 Merleau-Ponty, M. (2002). Phenomenology of perception. Routledge. Meyer, C. (2022). The phenomenological foundations of ethnomethodology’s conceptions of sequentiality and indexicality. Harold Garfinkel’s references to Aron Gurwitsch’s ‘field of consciousness’. Gesprächsforschung – Online-Zeitschrift Zur Verbalen Interaktion, 23, 111–114. Milian, M., & Erin, J. N. (2001). Diversity and visual impairment: The influence of race, gender, religion, and ethnicity on the individual. American Foundation for the Blind. Mondada, L. (2018). The multimodal interactional organization of tasting: Practices of tasting cheese in gourmet shops. Discourse Studies. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445618793439 Mondada, L. (2019). Contemporary issues in conversation analysis: Embodiment and mate­ riality, multimodality and multisensoriality in social interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 145, 47–62. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2019.01.016 Mondémé, C. (2011). Dog–human sociality as mutual orientation. IIEMCA. https://portal. findresearcher.sdu.dk/en/publications/dog-human-sociality-as-mutual-orientation

22

Brian L. Due

Mondémé, C. (2013). Formes d’interactions sociales entre hommes et chiens Une approche praxéologique des relations interspécifiques. Ecole Normale Supérieure de Lyon Ecole Doctorale Lettres, Langues, Linguistique et Arts (ED 484) Laboratoire ICAR (UMR 5191) – Interactions, Corpus, Apprentissage, Représentation. Mondémé, C. (2017, May). Moving as an interspecies unit: Accounting for im-mobility. MOBSIN workshop (Telecom ParisTech). https://portal.findresearcher.sdu.dk/en/ publications/moving-as-an-interspecies-unit-accounting-for-im-mobility Mondémé, C. (2020). La socialité interspécifique: Une analyse multimodale des interac­ tions homme-chien. Lambert-Lucas. Morel, J., & Relieu, M. (2011). Locating mobility in orientation sequences. Nottingham French Studies, 50, 94–113. https://doi.org/10.3366/nfs.2011-2.005 Nevile, M. (2015). The embodied turn in research on language and social interaction. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 48(2), 121–151. https://doi.org/10.1080 /08351813.2015.1025499 Nishizaka, A. (2003). Imagination in action. Theory & Psychology, 13(2), 177–207. Nishizaka, A. (2018). Aspect-seeing in the interactional organization of activities. Tartu Semiotics Library, 19, 345–354. Nishizaka, A. (2020). Multi-sensory perception during palpation in Japanese midwifery practice. Social Interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 3(1), Article 1. https://doi.org/10.7146/si.v3i1.120256 Oliver, M. (1990). The politics of disablement: A sociological approach. Palgrave Macmillan. Pauwels, L. (2011). An integrated conceptual framework for visual social research. In E. Margolis & L. Pauwels (Eds.), The SAGE handbook of visual research methods (pp. 3–23). SAGE Publications Ltd. https://doi.org/10.4135/9781446268278.n1 Pillet-Shore, D. (2020). When to make the sensory social: Registering in face-to-face open­ ings. Symbolic Interaction. https://doi.org/10.1002/symb.481 Pink, S. (2013). Doing visual ethnography (3rd ed.). SAGE Publications Ltd. Pollner, M. (2012). Reflections on Garfinkel and ethnomethodology’s program. The Ameri­ can Sociologist, 43(1), 36–54. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12108-011-9146-x Proulx, M. J., Ptito, M., & Amedi, A. (2014). Multisensory integration, sensory substitution and visual rehabilitation. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 41, 1–2. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2014.03.004 Psathas, G. (1976). Mobility, orientation, and navigation: Conceptual and theoretical consid­ erations. New Outlook for the Blind, 70(9), 385–391. Psathas, G. (1980). Approaches to the study of the world of everyday life. Human Studies, 3(1), 3–17. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF02331797 Psathas, G. (1992). The study of extended sequences: The case of the garden lesson. In G. Watson & R. M. Seiler (Eds.), Text in context: Contributions to ethnomethodology (pp. 99–122). Sage. Quéré, L., & Relieu, M. (2001). Modes de locomotion et inscription spatiale des inégalités. Les déplacements des personnes atteintes de handicaps visuels et moteurs dans l’esplace public. Rapport de Recherche. Convention Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales/ Ministère de l’équipement, du transport et du logement-Direction générale de l’urbanisme, de l’habitat et de la construction, CEMS-EHESS, Paris. Rasmussen, G. (2013). That’s my story! Resisting disabling processes in a therapeutic activ­ ity. Journal of Interactional Research in Communication Disorders, 4(2), 273–298. Rasmussen, G., Brouwer, C. E., & Day, D. (2012). Evaluating cognitive competences in interaction. John Benjamins Publishing Company. http://site.ebrary.com/lib/alltitles/doc­ Detail.action?docID=10621315

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 23 Ravenscroft, J. (2019). The Routledge handbook of visual impairment: Social and cultural research. Routledge. Rawls, A. W., Whitehead, K. A., & Duck, W. (Eds.). (2020). Black Lives Matter – eth­ nomethodological and conversation analytic studies of race and systemic racism in eve­ ryday interaction. Routledge. Relieu, M. (1994). Les catégories dans l’action. L’apprentissage des traversées de rue par des non-voyants [Categories in action. Blind persons learning to cross the street]. Raisons Pratiques. L’enquête Sur Les Categories, 5, 185–218. Renshaw, P., Choo, J., & Emerald, E. (2014). Diverse disability identities: The accomplish­ ment of ‘Child with a disability’ in everyday interaction between parents and teachers. International Journal of Educational Research, 63, 47–58. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. ijer.2012.09.002 Reyes Cruz, G. (2021). Designing to support and extend the competencies of people with visual impairments. In Extended abstracts of the 2021 CHI conference on human fac­ tors in computing systems (pp. 1–6). Association for Computing Machinery. https://doi. org/10.1145/3411763.3443425 Reyes-Cruz, G., Fischer, J. E., & Reeves, S. (2020). Reframing disability as competency: Unpacking everyday technology practices of people with visual impairments. In Pro­ ceedings of the 2020 CHI conference on human factors in computing systems Comput­ ing Systems (CHI ‘20) (pp. 1–13). Association for Computing Machinery. https://doi. org/10.1145/3313831.3376767 Reyes-Cruz, G., Fischer, J. E., & Reeves, S. (2022). Demonstrating interaction: The case of assistive technology. ACM Transactions on Computer-Human Interaction. https://doi. org/10.1145/3514236 Robillard, A. B. (1994). Communication problems in the intensive care unit. Qualitative Sociology, 17(4), 383–394. Robillard, A. B. (1999). Meaning of a disability: The lived experience of paralysis. Temple University Press. Roe, J., & Webster, A. (2002). Children with visual impairments: Social interaction, lan­ guage and learning. Routledge. Rossano, F., Brown, P., & Levinson, S. C. (2009). Gaze, questioning, and culture. In J. Sid­ nell (Ed.), Conversation analysis: Comparative perspectives (pp. 187–250). Cambridge University Press. Ryle, G. (1949). The concept of mind. Chicago Press. Sacks, H. L. (1989). Lecture six: The M.I.R. membership categorization device. Human Studies, 12(3/4), 271–281. Sacks, H. L., Schegloff, E. A., & Jefferson, G. (1974). A simplest systematics for the organi­ zation of turn-taking for conversation. Language, 50(4), 696–735. Saerberg, S. (2015). Chewing accidents a phenomenology of visible and invisible everyday accomplishments. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 44(5), 580–597. https://doi. org/10.1177/0891241615587380 Schegloff, E. A. (1968). Sequencing in conversational openings. American Anthropologist, 70(6), 1075–1095. Schegloff, E. A. (1997). Whose text? Whose context? Discourse Society, 8(2), 165–187. Schubert, S. J., Hansen, S., Dyer, K. R., & Rapley, M. (2009). ‘ADHD patient’ or ‘illicit drug user’? Managing medico-moral membership categories in drug dependence services. Dis­ course & Society, 20(4), 499–516. https://doi.org/10.1177/0957926509104025 Shakespeare, T. (2014). Disability rights and wrongs revisited. Routledge. https://doi. org/10.4324/9781315887456

24

Brian L. Due

Shakespeare, T. (2016). The social model of disability. In The disability studies reader (5th ed., pp. 195–203). Scopus. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315680668 Shakespeare, T. (2017). Disability: The basics. Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/ 9781315624839 Sharrock, W., & Coulter, J. (1998). On what we can see. Theory & Psychology. http://jour­ nals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0959354398082001 Sidnell, J. (2006). Coordinating gesture, talk, and gaze in reenactments. Research on Lan­ guage & Social Interaction, 39(4), 377–409. https://doi.org/10.1207/s15327973rlsi3904_2 Simone, M., & Galatolo, R. (2020). Climbing as a pair: Instructions and instructed body movements in indoor climbing with visually impaired athletes. Journal of Pragmatics, 155, 286–302. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2019.09.008 Simone, M., & Galatolo, R. (2021). Timing and prosody of lexical repetition: How repeated instructions assist visually impaired athletes’ navigation in sport climbing. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 54(4), 397–419. https://doi.org/10.1080/08351813.20 21.1974742 Slade, J., Edwards, E., & White, A. (2017). Employment status and sight loss (pp. 1–28). RNIB, Supporting People with Sight Loss. Smith, R. J., Fitzgerald, R., & Housley, W. (2020). On sacks: Methodology, materials, and inspirations. Routledge. Soldatic, K., Morgan, H., & Roulstone, A. (2014). Disability, spaces and places of policy exclusion. Routledge. Stokoe, E. (2012). Moving forward with membership categorization analysis: Methods for systematic analysis. Discourse Studies, 14(3), 277–303. Sudnow, D. (1978). Ways of the hand. The MIT Press. Titchkosky, T. (2011). The question of access: Disability, space, meaning. University of Toronto Press. van den Scott, L.-J. K. (2018). Visual methods in ethnography. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 47(6), 719–728. https://doi.org/10.1177/0891241618806972 Vannini, P., Waskul, D., & Gottschalk, S. (2011). The senses in self, society, and culture: A sociology of the senses (1st ed.). Routledge. Varma, R., Vajaranant, T. S., Burkemper, B., Wu, S., Torres, M., Hsu, C., Choudhury, F., & McKean-Cowdin, R. (2016). Visual impairment and blindness in adults in the United States: Demographic and geographic variations from 2015 to 2050. JAMA Ophthalmol­ ogy, 134(7), 802–809. https://doi.org/10.1001/jamaophthalmol.2016.1284 vom Lehn, D. (2010). Discovering ‘Experience-ables’: Socially including visually impaired people in art museums. Journal of Marketing Management, 26(7–8), 749–769. https://doi. org/10.1080/02672571003780155 WHO. (2017). WHO | Vision impairment and blindness. WHO. www.who.int/mediacentre/ factsheets/fs282/en/ WHO. (2019). World report on vision (ISBN 978-92-4-151657-0, pp. 1–156). WHO. Wiggins, S., & Keevallik, L. (2020). Enacting gustatory pleasure on behalf of another: The multimodal coordination of infant tasting practices. Symbolic Interaction. https://doi. org/10.1002/symb.527 Wilkinson, R. (2014). Intervening with conversation analysis in speech and language ther­ apy: Improving aphasic conversation. Research on Language & Social Interaction, 47(3), 219–238. https://doi.org/10.1080/08351813.2014.925659 Wilkinson, R., Rae, J., & Rasmussen, G. (Eds.). (2020). Atypical interaction: The impact of communicative impairments within everyday talk. Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi. org/10.1007/978-3-030-28799-3

The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment 25 Willoughby, L., Manns, H., Iwasaki, S., & Bartlett, M. (2019). Are you trying to be funny? Communicating humour in deafblind conversations. Discourse Studies, 21(5), 584–602. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445619846704 Wittgenstein, L. (1953). Philosophical investigations. Blackwell. Zimmerman, D. H. (1998). Identity, context and interaction. In C. Antaki & S. Widdicombe (Eds.), Identities in talk. SAGE Publications.

2

The production and reception of assistance proposals between pedestrians and visually impaired persons during a course in orientation and mobility Marc Relieu

Introduction My interest in the organization of assistance pre-proposals (and their rebuttals) arose from the examination of such “assistive” situations as they “naturally” occurred while I was accompanying a specialized instructor and her visually impaired students dur­ ing Orientation and Mobility lessons on Parisian streets (France). Some exercises were systematically disrupted by the interventions of passers-by, who interrupted their routes, gazed at the visually impaired person (VIP), and, in some cases, offered assistance, often with confirmation queries (“you wanna cross?”). In this way, the passers-by dis­ counted the relevance of their offers on the basis of the “scenic intelligibility” (Jayyusi, 1988, p. 272) of the situation. They transformed perceived trouble into a “ticket” (Sacks, 1992) to initiate interaction. They, therefore, designed procedures for the identification of a projected action that the VIP was expected to perform (cross the road), for see­ ing some kind of visual impairment-related trouble related to the deference of the pro­ jected action, and finally for the construction of a specific pre-assistance offer. When the VIP was visibly accompanied, passers-by did not intervene. Instead, they expected the sighted person, who was apparently “with” the VIP, to intervene if necessary. Passers-by would intervene only when the teacher was observing the student at a distance. A series of interrogations emerged from a close examination of the video excerpts in which pas­ sers-by offered some assistance: How does someone’s situated conduct become visible as a public problem? How does visual impairment, as a visibly available membership category (Sacks, 1972b), contribute to prospective sighted helpers being able to make sense of what happened (Relieu, 1994)? How are unacquainted persons able to orient in a progressive manner to the opening of interaction (Pillet-Shore, 2020) with the VIP and propose some sort of assistance? How does the VIP, in answering such proposals, “tell their side” and reveal that he or she is a student involved in an exercise? What appeared first as mere interruptions of the exercises turned out to be a “perspicuous setting” from which to understand, via a detailed examination of the assistance proposals and rebuttals, (1) how VIPs can still be stuck in the visible intel­ ligibility of everyday affairs while practicing alternative, audio-based instructed techniques and methods of navigation; and (2) how they produce accounts in which they make the instructional setting intelligible for sighted passers-by, and in doing DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-2

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

27

so produce an alternative understanding of precisely what they are doing. This chapter, therefore, contributes to the classic EM/CA issue (Garfinkel, 1967; Sche­ gloff, 1987) concerning our understanding of members’ socially organized meth­ ods for the production of recognizable actions and accounts. Assistance in public settings: an overview This analysis focuses on the activity of preparing an assistance offer with a con­ firmation query and how the recipient responds to this. As such, it echoes multiple issues that have interested numerous scholars with different sensitivities to the rich array of resources in the EM/CA tradition. Those resources include both the ethnomethodological studies of embodied social conduct embedded in various activity contexts observable in public places, more recent CA studies of the sequential organization of assistance, and the studies of the situated production of disabilities or asymmetric abilities. In this first sec­ tion, we propose a short presentation on this complex background. Walking and crossing in public settings

Very early on, ethnomethodology showed an interest in the methodical organiza­ tion of bodily conduct and walking in public areas, a domain previously explored in two of Goffman’s famous books: Behavior in Public Places (1963) and Relations in Public: Microstudies of the Public Order (1971). Sacks (1972b) and Sudnow (1972) offered two brilliant pieces, influenced by the notion of “intention display” (E. Goffman, 1971), which resonates with a strategic perspective on interaction (Smith, 2017). In this same paper, Sudnow stresses the embodied “frozen” displays of the prospective crossers and how they are designed to be recognized by incom­ ing drivers “at a glance”. This focus on bodily, time-sensitive pedestrian conduct has nourished our understanding of the public reception of long pauses by visually impaired students before crossing. Ryave and Schenkein (1974) proposed one of the very first ethnomethodologi­ cal studies of walking as a methodical social practice while focusing on a very Goffmanian object: walking together in a “with-unit”. They developed an interest in walking as a complex set of embodied social practices – maintaining a standard pace, a direction, a mutually accountable distance – through which co-walkers pro­ duce and maintain the recognizability of their relationship while dealing with many contingencies: the narrowing of the lane, the oncoming others, etc. This domain of interest has never been systematically developed, although sev­ eral studies have highlighted a family of phenomena that have been discovered through close observation of mobility practices in ordinary public settings, and how they relate to various practical activities (see, for instance Broth & Mondada, 2013 on activity closing in guide visits; and De Stefani & Mondada, 2014 on reori­ entations in guided tours). Within the limits of this chapter, we have selected two subsets of studies that have produced insights into two families of visual and bodily practices that pervade public settings.

28

Marc Relieu

First, we focus on the various “mobile formations” (McIlvenny et al., 2014) that exploit and produce a visible spatial order in relation to some specific activity: queues (Garfinkel & Livingston, 2003) and visibility arrangements (Lee &Watson, 1993), by which pedestrians arrange their mutual paces and paths on the basis of various fluctuant spatial organizations. Such organizational arrangements generate a local device of practical categories that are tied to sets of rights and obligations. For instance, someone who is the next in line in a queue might be expected to move forward once the first in line has been served. Or they may be expected to reclaim their earlier position in the queue after leaving it for some reason, etc. Second, the organization of crossing, which intervenes to solve various coordi­ nation issues between pedestrians (see Livingston, 1987 on populated crossings; Relieu, 1999, on driver-pedestrian coordination; Liberman, 2003 on rule-following practices and improvisation; McIlvenny, 2019 on co-crossing with scooters). Fol­ lowing Goodwin (2000) on the relevance of contextual configurations of various resources from the environment (including material artefacts) that surround inter­ actants (see also Streeck et al., 2011), some papers include zebra crossing marks (Merlino & Mondada, 2019) or traffic lights (Liberman, 2013) in their analysis. Such material devices intervene in the organization of various turn-taking systems. As Sacks et al. (1974) observe, turn-taking is used for the ordering of moves in games, for allocating polit­ ical office, for regulating traffic at intersections, for serving customers at business establishments, and for talking in interviews, meetings, debates, ceremonies, conversations etc. – these last being members of the set which we shall refer to as “speech exchange systems”. (p. 696) CA has investigated speech-exchange systems of many types, while not deploy­ ing systematic attention to non-speech turn-taking systems, with a few interesting exceptions (Ivarsson & Greiffenhagen, 2015). Stopping before a zebra crossing and/or a traffic light junction is of particular interest here, because “stopping at a curb is therefore subject to normative expectations regarding its duration and form. It generally has the status of a preliminary; its standard duration is limited by the appearance of a passage possibility” (Relieu & Quéré, 1998, p. 224). Interaction and assistance in public settings

We know from the non-EM/CA but pioneering work of Goffman (1963) that “unacquainted persons require a reason” to get involved into a face-to-face inter­ action with others. Harvey Sacks noticed that some unacquainted persons use “tickets” to talk to strangers, for example “Excuse me, I’m lost” (Sacks, 1992, p. 543). Elsewhere, he noticed (Sacks, 1992, p. 257) that “one kind of ticket is the announcement of some trouble”. Such remarks resonate with the recent work of Kendrick and Drew (2016), who have focused on the sequential organization of

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

29

assistance for people who intervene in the management of various troubles that emerge from their participation in the management of practical action in the pres­ ence of others. Kendrick and Drew offer a general interactional system for both recruitment and assistance. They propose to study how the helper is methodically recruited to provide assistance, and how the person being helped exposes the trou­ ble. Following Kendrick (2021), the organization of assistance in interaction rests on a first set of more or less explicit methods aimed at recruiting the helper, and on a second set of methodical skills that explain how the helper becomes involved in the assistance. Amongst the different families of methods for the recruitment of a helper (Kendrick & Drew, 2016), the authors have studied requests in the form of “self­ initiated assistance” methods, and what they call the production of an “embodied display of trouble”. For instance, a visual search (Drew & Kendrick, 2018) can be recognized as exhibiting trouble and creating an opportunity for others to provide assistance. An instance of a second set of methods of assistance, which results in a person coming to help another (“other-initiated assistance”; Kendrick, 2021), is the pro­ duction of an offer or an intervention, which can be prepared through a progressive, embodied recognition of trouble and the corresponding sensitivity to its features. For instance, the prospective helper can get closer to the troublesome event and inspect the trouble zone. They progressively display a readiness to help, and may produce advice, offer assistance, or begin to intervene or pre-empt solutions to the trouble. This elegant, empirically based conceptualization of assistance and recruitment in interaction provides a very rich set of tools for the analysis of a broad range of settings involving people with disabilities. However, our interest here lies in con­ necting this sequential model to the older conceptualization of categories in action, to understand how the production of some “embodied displays of trouble” can be related to categorial incumbencies and contextual configurations. The white cane and the public situated visibility of blindness

The classic EM/CA literature on membership categorization practices (MCPs) – which includes, in addition to the seminal work of Sacks on categorization analysis (1992), the works of Jayyusi (1984), Hester and Eglin (1997), and Wat­ son (1978, 1997) – has shown that MCPs are “inferentially rich” (Sacks, 1992). In other words, various predicates (competencies, rights and obligations, enti­ tlements, etc.) can be conventionally “attached” to incumbencies in specific membership categories and contribute to the practical understanding of ordi­ nary settings. Far from being rigid projections of cognitive grids, categorization practices are a type of methodical procedure (Watson, 1994). This tradition has been seen as divorced from the sequential approaches that characterize most conversation analysis studies. Recently, following Watson (1978, 1986), Stokoe (2012) has shown that MCA and contemporary conversation analysis can be used

30

Marc Relieu

together as complementary features of the methodical organization of everyday settings. Although MCA and CA can be seen as different but parallel perspectives (Fitzgerald, 2012), I will stress their mutual contribution to the understanding of the multi-layered social order. However, the categorization here will not be restricted to the explicit categories that can be used in talk or discourse. Since the early work of Sacks, a connection has been identified between categorization and perception practices (Carlin, 2003; see also how street vendors approach prospects in vom Lehn, 2014). This is obvi­ ous in the famous definition of Sacks’s “viewer’s maxim”: “If a member sees a category-bound activity being done, then, if one can see it being done by a member of a category to which the activity is bound, then: see it that way” (Sacks, 1974, p. 225). We see people and what they do through a dynamic categorization process; someone identified based on their appearance as a representative of a category might also be recognized, through subsequent activities, as belonging to a modified or different membership category, or to a specific narrative. “Culture . . . exist[s] in action” (Hester & Eglin, 1997). Some pedestrians are recognizable at a glance (Sudnow, 1972) through a mem­ bership category. Being visually impaired is a visible category in a strong sense: it is a membership category that is supposed to be visible by sighted persons. The white cane, an artefact conventionally associated with this membership category, has both practical and normative relevance in the context of walking, since oncom­ ing pedestrians are (even legally) supposed to take care to avoid a VIP who is walk­ ing with one (Relieu, 1994; Due & Lange, 2018). This normative expectation must be transformed into practical courses of action in real-world trajectories, where avoidance sometimes demands tight coordination between oncoming pedestrians (see Due & Lange, 2018, p. 138). While moving, other normative expectations associated with the local relevance of the membership category “visually impaired” in various contextual configurations arise: sweeping with the cane, tapping, stopping, slowing down, etc. are likely to be recognized by sighted pedestrians in order to make this conduct intelligible in context and to produce some relevant adjustments. Developing such a situated approach to the perceptually attributable categories of the collection “disabilities” is an important feature of an EM/CA approach to the subject. Context of the study and method The present chapter is based on a video-based EM/CA study I conducted in Paris in the late ’90s with the help of two teachers in Orientation and Mobility from Association Valentin Haüy and the participation of their students. It took me a few months to estab­ lish the mutual trust necessary to introduce a video camera and a wireless audio equip­ ment in the courses. I was then able to follow, over one year, a series of courses with six students of various ages and personal conditions. Most of the time, I was recording the courses either in the office of the teacher, where some specific training or conver­ sational exchanges took place, or in the various streets or urban configurations selected by the co-participants, in order to deliver specific training, lessons, and exercises.

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

31

I used a basic wireless microphone and a video Hi8 camera recorder. Depend­ ing on the nature of each course, the student usually carried the microphone. As the courses were delivered on the curbs, in the very noisy Paris streets, I appreci­ ated this procedure for audio capture. However, it did not always prove adequate for recording the complex, highly spatialized sound patterns to which the students were supposed to pay attention. As my main objective was to track, via video, the relevant attentional zones to which the students were being trained to attend, with a view to developing a set of practical hearing skills, the video in effect became pre-analytic (Relieu, 1999), and provided a point of entry into the complexities of the training. For instance, I had to opt for a very wide shot in order to include the traffic sounds that are relevant during specific phases of crossing exercises. Sometimes, an event would occur that would disrupt the exercise and forced me to quickly find a solution to a difficult framing issue. For example, some sighted pedestrians were approaching the student and offering some assistance. I saw them at a distance and decided to follow the new frame of reference being established by such proposals, so I had to quickly zoom in on the action, in the very local environment of the stu­ dent. Having to move from large frames, captured from a distance (to capture the possible relevant hearing zones), to a very narrow field (the possible visible fea­ tures that made the pedestrians come and propose assistance) became a regular pro­ cess while I was shooting these exercises. As the study went on, it became apparent that this shooting issue offered an analytical opportunity in terms of understanding how contrastive situated actions emerged on the ground. An orientation and mobility lesson in crossing I have chosen to situate this study, part of a series of crossings made by a visually impaired student, during a classic exercise aimed at practicing the technique of making a parallel crossing at a junction with a traffic signal. The exercise, which takes place at a naturally organized public junction, consists of performing a com­ plex set of instructed actions that the teacher is monitoring at a distance. While the teacher is ready to intervene, if necessary, she remains approximately 20 meters from the student, so that there is no easy way for others to recognize the relation­ ship between them. The exercise comprises a series of three crossings, corresponding to three inter­ related sections (Psathas, 1992, p. 101). Each crossing has an internal structure (Psathas, 1992) that is related to the environment, to the previous section, and to the next. The student has to find out, alone, based on the various available resources, how to access the curbs and perform a series of ordered and interrelated orienta­ tional tasks: 1. Approaching the next curb while walking. Here, the student has to find his way while maintaining an orientation to the final objective. He has to locate and reach the next zebra crossing border in order to stop safely at a possible starting point for the crossing.

32

Marc Relieu

2. Positioning himself along the curb. While listening to the traffic and other available sounds, the student has to orient his body and shoulders towards the opposite side of the curb, in order to be ready to cross in a straight line in this direction. Otherwise, the student might deviate during the crossing and be una­ ble to find the opposite walkway. “Stopping” therefore requires an orientational task and several adjustments. 3. Listening  to  the  traffic  in  order  to  cross  at  the  right  moment. The student focuses on listening to the traffic. He keeps his cane straight to be aware of the curb/road relationship, while carefully listening to the different lanes into which the traffic is organized. Based on this careful listening, he must determine how to cross safely. Usually, he crosses when he hears the cars starting on one of the nearby roads. 4. Crossing the road. While crossing, the student has to be able to avoid any obstacle and maintain his direction until he finds the opposite curb with his cane. He then has to step on to the curb and walk in the direction of the next curb. The specific exercise I will analyse here took place in Paris, France, at a junction located between Rue de Vaugirard and Boulevard Pasteur. The teacher asked the student to begin at an entry point and perform three crossings. After completing the third crossing, he was asked to stop. Finally, the teacher joined him and initiated an analysis of what happened (post-briefing phase). As the main objective of the O&M courses is to develop self-competence in performing the multiple tasks with which all pedestrians must contend (walking, crossing, finding their way, etc.), the trainee has been explicitly asked to decline assistance from others. However, during the exercise, several sighted pedestrians approached him to offer help and assistance. The most fre­ quent help proposals were formed during the same periods in which the student needed to be highly focused on the task (task 3: listening to the traffic). In the limits of this chapter, we will explore various help attempts produced during this vulnerable moment. We found that this multi-layered situation constituted a “perspicuous setting” (Garfinkel, 2002, p. 212) for instructing us both in the social organization of assistance and in the accountability of the training situation. Analysis The initiation of assistance in public settings

The five excerpts we propose to examine occur (1) when Tom (T.), the visually impaired person is standing at the junction of the street; and (2) during the cross­ ing phase for pedestrians, which contributes to the “peak” visibility of trouble for sighted pedestrians.

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

33

In excerpt 2.1.1.1, two young boys are crossing right in front of Tom, the visu­ ally impaired student, who is standing right at the border of the curb (#1). Excerpt 2.1.1.1

#1 1.

#2 Pl.

#3

#4

*vous vou+lez traver₤se:r ? you

want

to cross?

2. P1’s torso. turns to T*#2.......+#3--------₤#4-----

The two boys cross “together” (Mondada & Merino, 2018; Ryave & Schenkein, 1974), side by side, keeping a short distance between them – one of the boys has his arm on the other’s shoulder – and maintaining the same pace and orien­ tation to the same direction. They display no public attention towards Tom as they begin to step on the sidewalk (#2). Suddenly, one of them, who is close to Tom, quickly stops while moving towards him (#3) and initiates a turn at talk. Consequently, his co-walker stops near him and is visually oriented to Tom. The first boy makes a step towards Tom and prepares his right hand to rest on Tom’s shoulder while producing a confirmation query (line 1), which is hearable as a pre-offer (Schegloff, 2007). Tom moves his head towards him. He assumes a body-torqued position (Schegloff, 1998), turning his head lightly towards the boy, while maintaining a strict orientation of his body and shoulders to the oppo­ site side of the road (#4). At the end of the turn, the boy has moved closer to Tom (#4). His rotation towards him has been achieved as he asked the question. There is no delay between the production of this confirmation query and the display of sensitivity and avail­ ability that, in other settings, is sometimes produced before the first turn (Kendrick, 2021). Notice, too, that the confirmation query is both retrospectively oriented to the type of action in which the blind person is visibly involved and prospectively oriented to an offer of assistance or to the immediate production of the assistance (see Fox, 2015 on pre-requests). In excerpt 2.1.2.1, we see a pedestrian woman walking on the adjacent side of the sidewalk, holding a bag in her left hand (#1). She produces a very different yes/ no question, asking Tom for authorization to assist him in crossing.

34

Marc Relieu

Excerpt 2.1.2.1

#1

#2

1.

P.

2.

P’s arm

#3

#4

#2vous voulez#3+ qu’on vous traver*se#4 ? you want us to cross you? +raises............* extended arm

She slows down as she arrives at the zebra crossing, then takes one step forward down to the road (#2), displaying an embodied progression into a crossing. How­ ever, she stops, then (1) quickly moves her head towards Tom, takes a small step towards him (2), changes the hand with which she was holding a document, and (3) begins to talk to Tom (#3). At that moment, she has already formatted her entire conduct and is ready to become an assistant. Her left hand, which is close to Tom, is ready to be oriented towards him. Using the pronoun “on” (we), A is able to turn her query into a “categorial action” (Sacks, 1992, p. 573; on pronouns, see also Watson, 1987), an expected action that members of a category perform without naming this category, which is, therefore “intended though not mentioned” (Ibid., p. 574). Moreover, she also uses “vous” (you) as a way to refer to an incumbent of a relationally paired category (see Sacks, 1972a, 1992), which contrasts with the previous one. Such a “categorial” use of the two pro­ nouns provides a nice way to establish a normative locus for the imputation of rights and obligations attached to the pairing of two unnamed categories, referring to the divi­ sion between those who might need assistance with crossing, and the others, that is sighted pedestrians who are in a position to help. The two categorial pronouns prepare the introduction of “helping” as a category-bound activity (Sacks, 1992, pp. 333, 573). The turn has been constructed in such a way as to request confirmation of an expected, category-bound activity that has a normative directionality (“on vous traverse” (us to cross you)) and which is normatively expected between incumbents of two contrastive categories. While completing this authorization query, P1 pursues the trajectories of her turn, body and arm, taking another step while launching her left arm towards Tom’s arm (#4). Once understood in the context of the entire dynamics of her embodied approach and conduct, this now completed query visibly (a collection of features that are unavailable to Tom) presumes a positive answer to her query and accept­ ance of the assistance. However, this turn, because it has been vocally formatted as a query, leaves open the possibility of a rebuttal.

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

35

In the next excerpt, three pedestrians are waiting near Tom (excerpt 2.1.3.1), right on the edge of the same curb, while others are aligned on his left (#1). As the light turns green for pedestrians, the two men on his right move onto the road and are ready to cross. They show a common orientation to the authorization to cross that the green light has given to the pedestrians. Excerpt 2.1.3.1 #1

1.

#2

P3. vous (v’nez) monsieur#2 ? you

2.

come

sir?

(1)

A man takes a step down to the road while turning his head towards Tom and initiating a turn at talk, an invitation to go (#2). The form of this invitation to join the “team” of the co-crossers displays co-membership to this local, turn-generated collective incum­ bency. Tom does not answer immediately, and the man stops while still looking at him. The next excerpt (2.2.1.1) occurs after the student crosses and moves to the sec­ ond crossing. He positions himself at the right location and starts carefully listening to the surroundings. During the green light for pedestrians, someone walking along the edge of the same curb approaches him closely, while preparing assistance: Excerpt 2.2.1.1 #1

1. P.

#2

>vous voulez traverse*#2r< ? you want

2. T’s head

to cross? *begins to move to P’s face

36

Marc Relieu

The confirmation query is uttered when the pedestrian is already close to Tom. As in excerpt 2.1.1.1, Tom turns his head to the pedestrian (line 2), showing some availability to talk, without changing the main orientation of his body. In the following excerpt, someone crossing from the opposite curb produces a confirmation query: Excerpt 2.3.1.1

#1 1. P1.

#2

#3

#2vous voulez traverser, monsieur ? you want to cross sir?

Tom is waiting at the last crossing; the green light is on, and an older woman begins crossing towards him from the opposite side of the junction. She then accelerates (#1) and initiates a turn at talk towards Tom at a distance (#2). In excerpt 2.3.1.1, the woman is rushing to utter the confirmation query. She has accelerated before beginning to talk, still five or more meters from Tom, and runs towards him. The pace displays some urgency to produce this query, which might be related to the inherent time pressure in the traffic light system. Discussion of initiation of assistance in public settings

Contrary to other encounters between strangers in public settings, the prospective helpers produce no self-identification nor greeting. In most cases, they initiate the con­ tact with a confirmation query (“you want to cross?”), an authorization query (excerpt 2.1.2.1), or a minimal invitation (“you come?”, excerpt 2.1.3.1). Excerpt 2.1.3.1 is also the only case in which the invitation is asked after the light has turned green. The confirmation query is monofocal (Wakin & Zimmerman, 1999), in that it addresses one specific unique activity: crossing this junction. This feature reflex­ ively produces an orientation to the current organization of the setting. For sighted pedestrians, crossings are visual orders (see Liberman, 2013). Traf­ fic lights/zebra crossing devices provide visual resources for the organization of a turn system dedicated to two types of what Goffman (1971) termed “vehicular units” (pedestrians or road users), and to two alternative activities: crossing or wait­ ing. Whether such resources, which are connected to a set of rights and duties, laws, and other regulations, become accountable or unaccountable features of ongoing, naturally organized visibility arrangements (Watson, 2003) rests on the local mutual

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

37

adjustments that co-present pedestrians and vehicular units are able to perform in situ. When crossing together at the green light, the crossers arrange themselves in various mobile visibility arrangements. For instance, they form “flow files”, in which they walk at a standard pace (Lee & Watson, 1993, pp. 89–94) in some serial order. In excerpt 2.1.3.1, we see the pedestrians waiting “in line” on the edge of the same curb. They are all waiting for the next collective opportunity to cross, which may be gener­ ated either by pauses in the traffic or by the light turning green. Such mobile forma­ tions display a series of normative features: when the local cohort of pedestrians are crossing on the green light, the individual who does not cross becomes inspectable, in order to understand “why” they are not crossing like “everyone”. Specific catego­ rial incumbencies offer various “public” motives that account for not crossing. Once the light has turned green for pedestrians, the halting of this individual can be visibly treated as an absence of crossing, which displays trouble or an attempt to recruit oth­ ers for assistance. When the person is conventionally visible as a visually impaired person due to their white cane,1 the trouble can be seen as an inability to notice the opportunity for crossing, and/or as an attempt to draw the attention of co-crossers with visual skills.2 In this example, the position of the blind person and his “body gloss” are also important: because he is standing exactly on the edge of the curb, with an orienta­ tion towards the opposite side, this spatial positioning makes visible the projection of an expected next action (crossing). Therefore, the circumstances of the setting and its “temporal parameters” combine with the embodied meaning of the Self’s conduct and the relevant category ascription, in order to create a visual opportunity for assistance (Relieu, 1994) in relation to the activity of crossing. Some oncoming passers-by see the embedded display of trouble as a reason to suspend the usual “civil inattention” (Goffman) between unacquainted passers-by in order to offer assistance. Moreover, the confirmation query, as a pre-offer of assistance, allows only a small adjustment before the beginning of the assistance itself. No previous mutual visual adjustment, such as described in Kendrick (2021), is possible here. There is no possible “pre-beginning” in Schegloff’s (1979, p. 34) terminology, which might be based on a mutual visual monitoring or identification work (Mondada, 2009). The only shared feature that a prospective helper is able to presume (Relieu, 1994) is a pre-alignment towards a specific activity: crossing. Using a pre-sequence, which projects the occur­ rence of an offer of assistance, permits the prospective helper to share in the recipient’s understanding of what is at stake in the setting, to display her own local identity of a sighted person available for help, and to let the recipient eventually block the progres­ sion of the assistance. Although all turns have been built as yes/no questions, the dif­ ferent actions displayed in the turns (a confirmation of the observable involvement of the VIP in the activity of crossing; an invitation to go; an authorization query) show different sensitivities to the directionality of the sequence and its normative features. Pre-help proposals are very “local”: they are time-dependent and proposed by other crossers at the same location. Other pedestrians who are merely walking by do not orient to the possible trouble, nor do they propose help or assistance. There is a trouble zone (Hendrick, 2021) close to the zebra crossing, but this zone also has temporal limits. All talk initiations are produced while the traffic light is green for pedestrians. It is precisely during this authorized time-lapse for a pedestrian crossing that the absence of the projected action becomes more salient for the other crossers.

38

Marc Relieu

Some prospective helpers, as in excerpt 2.3.1.1, display heavy sensitivity to the time pressure. In this excerpt, the prospective helper, who crosses in front of the visually impaired person, runs towards him and begins to talk at a distance while completing her own crossing. This readiness displays a sensitivity to the limited available time to make a return crossing – and, eventually, a third, since she is coming from the oppo­ site direction. It is remarkable that all prospective helpers are themselves either wait­ ing to cross at the same curb (excerpts 2.1.3.1, 2.2.1.1) or have just crossed from the opposite side (excerpts 2.1.1.1, 2.3.1.1). There seems to be a self-selection principle for prospective helpers – they belong to the same cohort of pedestrians who cross the very junction that the VIP is about to cross. In excerpt 2.1.2.1, the prospective helper uses “on” (we) to indicate that she belongs to this local cohort of sighted crossers. The confirmation query is formatted as a polar question. Its design solicits a preferred, “yes” response. From the perspective of action-type preference, the confirmation query has also been designed as a pre-assistance, with a go-ahead as a preferred, aligning answer (Raymond, 2003). Moreover, a preference for a “yes” answer is marked in the embodied conduct of the prospective helper, who is preparing to intervene and take the VIP’s arm or hand even before listening to the answer. The pedestrian prepares for the intervention very quickly, which pro­ jects an acceptance of assistance. In each case, the prospective helper puts them­ selves into a state of readiness to help while showing sensitivity to the trouble. In excerpt 2.1.2.1, the prospective helper frees her helping hand while asking her query; in excerpt 2.2.1.1, the prospective helper gets close to the VIP before asking and is ready to take his arm. This quick reconfiguration of the conduct of incoming pedestrians is a common feature of such attempts to initiate assistance. Declining assistance and the prospective helpers’ departure

In all cases studied here, the visually impaired person did not accept the proposal, and in one way or another blocked the assistance attempts in one way or another. Those rebuttals make public the misalignment between the prospective helper and the visually impaired student. In the first excerpt (excerpt 2.1.1.2), the student first produces the expected “yes” answer (after the dispreference marker “euh”), which confirms his willingness to cross, but then he adds an account that reframes the setting seen by the young pedestrians: Excerpt 2.1.1.2 #1

#2

#3

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP 1.

P1.

2. 3.

P1’s torso. T.

4. 5.

T’s head

6.

T.

7. 8.

P1’s torso

9. 10. 11. 12.

P1’s torso T’s head Pl.

13. 14.

P1’s legs

39

vous voulez traver£se:r ? you want to cross? turns to T... -----£#1---­ euh* oui mais euh: j’étudie un carrefour je uh. yes but uh I am studying a junction I am ... *-------turns to P1-----------------suis en cours de locomotion là. in a course of locomotion there +j′préfère attendre le prochain $#2 uh I would prefer to wait for the next uh +P1 begins to back off..........$straight-le prochain feu.< the next light (1.*+) *reorienting to his friend +,,,,,,back to rest position *ah#3 d’accord oh allright *moves away toward his friend ((P1 walks away))

In lines 3–5, he adds two successive units to his turn: first, he introduces a characteriza­ tion of the activity he is engaged in, which is connected to another relevant local iden­ tity (student), then formulates the setting in which he is involved (a locomotion course). Finally, he mentions the projected action in which he is involved (waiting for the next traffic light). It is remarkable that none of those features were visible, yet they entirely reconfigure the scene, making the perspective of immediate assistance irrelevant. After Tom has uttered his first characterization of the very activity in which he is engaged, the prospective helper who leaned towards Tom begins to turn back (line 7). Even before producing a closing acknowledgement receipt (line 12), he was already oriented to his young friend and ready to leave the scene (see #3). Excerpt 2.1.2.2

#1 1. 2. 3.

#2

P. P’s arm

vous voulez+ qu’on vous traver*se ? you want us to cross you? +raises...........* extended arm

40

Marc Relieu

euh non j′étudie un carrefour et +j′suis en cours de$#1 uh no I am studying a junction and I’m in a course of 5. P’s arm +hand back......$freezes 6. T. locomotion actuellement. locomotion currently 7. T. *°ah$ bon°! uh well 8. P’s arm *retrieves 9. P’s head $turns head to the opposite curb#2 10. ((P begins to cross)) 4.

T.

In excerpt 2.1.2.2, we see that the prospective helper, who anticipated a confirma­ tion and whose hand was ready to grasp Tom’s arm, begins to retrieve her hand after Tom produces a negative answer to the assistance query and formulated an alternative description of what he is doing (lines 4–6), which highlights the spe­ cific task in which he is involved (studying a junction) and its pedagogical context. Once Tom has finished producing this redescription of the setting, she acknowl­ edges it (line 7), turns her head to the opposite curb, and begins to cross herself. At the beginning of excerpt 2.1.3.2, we notice a delay between the organization of Tom’s conduct and embodied reasoning, and the organization of assistance. Excerpt 2.1.3.2

#1

#2

1. P3. 2. 3. T. 4. T. 5. P3’s left hand 6. T’s feet 7. T. 8. 9. T’s feet 10. P3’s left hand

#3

#4

vous (v’nez) monsieur#1 ? you come sir? (1) >a::ttendez !< wait voi+là.#2 c’est bon+.#3 that’s it this is right ...+extends towards T....+ touches T’s cane first step on the road/ ne $m’aidez pas₤ non non+ ne m’aidez pas don’t help me no no don’t help me s’il vous plait. please £second step on the road ...$pulls on cane.......+releases the cane

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

41

Tom is focusing on listening when P3 initiates a turn with an invitation to start (line 1). He first waits, then tells the prospective helper to suspend his initiative (line 3). This turn is designed, at a minimum, to freeze the conduct of P3, who is inter­ rupting Tom’s engagement in finding exactly when to start. Tom has identified the relevant noise he was trying to locate (the cars that have started in the parallel lane) and he produces a demand (line 3) to delay the production of any interference. This is followed by two self-oriented comments3 (line 4) that parse the completion of simultaneous nonverbal operations. However, the prospective helper (line 5) treats the two first remarks (“voilà” (that’s it) and “c’est bon” (this is right), line 4) as an invitation to pursue his assistance. He touches Tom’s hand and slowly pulls on it in an attempt to initiate assistance (line 9). Tom, who has begun to cross, rejects the help attempt more directly, with two injunctions to stop (line 7), while beginning to cross by himself. After the first injunction, P3 finally releases the cane (line 9). Excerpt 2.2.1.2

#1 1. P. 2. T’s head 3. T. 4. T’s head 5. P. 6. P’s feet 7. T. 8. P’s feet 9. P. 10.T. 11.

#2

#3

>vous voulez traverse*#1r< ? you want to cross? *begins to move to P’s face euh p*#2as tout d’suite:.= uh. not yet ....*oriented to P’s face =d’$accord. allright ...$one path forward j’étudie un carrfour pour l’mom+ent#3. I am studying a crossroad for now +stops in front of T--­ ah bon. (un carrfour.) oh well, a crossroad oui. yes ((P crosses before T))

Here, Tom, who has turned his head to the pedestrian during the confirmation query, first stops the pre-sequence with an answer that delayed the projected action (line 3). After the recipient has acknowledged this answer, Tom takes back the

42

Marc Relieu

floor and adds a description of what he is doing (studying a road junction). As the pedestrian (line 9) repeats the object of study (“un carrefour” (a road junction)), he displays some misunderstanding or mishearing of the student’s activity. Following the straight confirmation from the student, P leaves the scene. Similarly, the helper in the next excerpt also displays some difficulty in under­ standing what the student is doing: Excerpt 2.3.1.2

#1 1.

P.

2.

T.

3. 4.

P.

5.

T.

6. 7.

P.

8.

T.

9.

P.

10.

T.

11.

P1.

12. 13. P1. 14. Pl. 15.

#2

#3

vous voulez traverser, monsieur ? you want to cross sir? #lnon j’étudie un carrfoureuh j’suis en cours de no, I am studying a crossing I am currently in locomotion actuellement. a locomotion course #2vous êtes ? you are? je suis en cours de locomotion il faut qu’j’étudie I am in a course of locomotion I have to study 1’carrefour:. the junction ah bon il faut qu’vous alliez seul ah well you have to go alone voilà.+#3 tout à fait. + P turns toward the road that’s it. exactly. ben maintnant c’est fini le vert. well now it is over the gree oui bien sûr je sais ouais. yes of course I know yeah voilà. that is (13) ( ) au revoir, goodbye ((Pl leaves))

In this last crossing of the series, Tom answers the remotely uttered confirma­ tion query with a three-unit turn. After quickly rebutting the query (line 2), he first

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

43

produces a characterization of the alternative activity in which he is involved, fol­ lowed by a characterization of the alternative setting. In line 4, the prospective helper produces a next-turn repair initiation (see Jefferson, Sacks & Schegloff, 1977). Her partial repeat of the beginning of the second characterization indicates that she has some trouble understanding or hearing it. To produce the repair, Tom repeats the characterization of the setting, then adds a focus on the task he has to perform (line 5). The pedestrian finally acknowledges his answer and proposes a candidate under­ standing of the trouble source, showing that her issue with it was an understanding problem. This candidate understanding consists of a reformulation of the student’s task, which stresses the activity of crossing and focuses on its participation status – a non-assisted, “alone”, “one person” activity, which contrasts with her previous two-person solution. After Tom’s confirmation, the reciprocity of perspectives has been nicely re-established and the asymmetry is at least partially reduced. We see the pedestrian moving away from the previous attempt to provide assistance to Tom and adopting another position – that of co-observer of the road. She then produces a noticing about the traffic light, which transforms a visual event into a piece of talkable information. However, Tom does not acknowledge this information as news but as an unnecessary noticing of something he already knew. After a dozen seconds, the woman closes the interaction in a rather formal way (lines 14) and leaves the scene. Discussion of declining assistance and the prospective helpers’ departure In each case, Tom builds his answer to halt the progression of assistance and affirm his ability to decide when and how to start the crossing, which he considers a one-person activity. After a polar, yes/no confirmation request or assistance pro­ posal (excerpt 2.1.2.2.), Tom produces a dispreference marker (“uhm”), then a “no” answer or delayed acceptance (excerpt 2.1.1.2), and finally an account. In each case, Tom successfully stops the progression of assistance and provides an explana­ tion that is “hearable as a resolution of some problematic state of affairs” (Antaki, 1994, p. 4). This account takes what the pedestrians previously saw as an embodied display of trouble provoked by the inability to visually identify an opportunity to cross, and retrospectively configures it into a completely different scene – an exer­ cise embedded in the context of a course in Orientation and Mobility. To provide for this account, Tom produces several characterizations of (1) the setting (2), the activity, and (3) the precise requirements he must follow to perform this task. While doing so, he publicly seeks to re-establish a symmetry of perspec­ tives between the prospective helper, who becomes someone who has interrupted a course, and the visibly visually impaired person who turns out to be a student. The alternative descriptions of the setting and the activities that take place produce a complete reframing of the setting compared to how it was previously understood on the basis of its visual appearance. In one case (excerpt 2.1.3.2), the assistance is produced right after the traffic light has turned to green, as an invitation to cross. Although Tom does not initially align with the invitation to start and asks to delay it, the prospective helper misun­ derstands Tom’s further self-talk, takes it as authorization to proceed, and begins to pull on the cane. Finally, Tom explicitly demands that the assistance is halted, to recover his ability to cross alone. The re-establishment of self-controlled individual

44

Marc Relieu

agency takes place through the two successive refusals to be helped, which con­ vince the helper to let him cross alone (immediately after the first refusal, P3 releases Tom’s cane). In most cases, the prospective helpers stop the assistance and return to their previous business as soon as the scene is re-characterized. Conclusion This chapter has explored the activity of proposing help with a confirmation query, its embodied-related involvements, and its embeddedness into a material and tem­ poral configuration that features this social encounter. In this way, it contributes both to EM/CA studies of mobility in urban settings and to studies of the situ­ ated production of disabilities or asymmetric abilities. To conclude, I would like to stress the subversive opportunities generated by Orientation and Mobility courses. O&M techniques tend to treat VIPs as isolated people who are finding their way without coordinating with other pedestrians. The objective is to be able to learn the diverse techniques they may use to walk safely when no sighted person is present nearby and/or available for assistance. To transform various instructions into a situ­ ated action while on the curb, the student in this example must deal with the follow­ ing paradox: the more he follows the instructions and takes the time he needs to listen to the traffic, the more he will be seen as someone in trouble who needs assistance from the sighted pedestrians crossing at the same time, especially when the light is green for pedestrians. As a consequence of having to provide responses to multiple offers of assistance, the visibly visually impaired person will have an opportunity to tell others about the task in which he is engaged as a student, detached from the texture of relevance that connects him to the asymmetrical positions of helper/helped. Both organizational frames, based on different pairs of membership categories (helper/helped and troublemaker/student), are connected through the assistance proposal. The first two levels – (1) the emergence of the visibility of a trouble, and (2) the very formation of the pre-help proposal – use resources from the visual order of crossings and categories. The third level, which halts the progression of the sequence of assistance, is deeply built into the resources from the organiza­ tion or preference. The sequential organization of assistance provides a bridge between the two sets of contexts and categories, a translation system between the two worlds, and results in the revelation of the nested activity – the O&M exercise, which becomes public. Most of the time, the prospective helpers leave the scene without a clear under­ standing of the alternative activity in which the student is involved. There is nothing unusual about this, since the rebuttal has a clear closing implication for the assis­ tance proposal, and therefore complicates any possible further attempt to interact with the VIP. However, because the scene has been re-characterized under a new, alternative frame, via the account provided by the student, the pedestrians also face a breakdown in reciprocity. The visible, taken-for-granted features of the setting led them to misunderstand what was happening. The fact that the VIP stopped on the edge of the curb did not, in fact, display trouble but was an attempt to focus on an exercise. In this sense, the re-characterization of the setting, and its alternative

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

45

set of relevant membership categories (student/instructor) and action description (analyzing a junction vs waiting for assistance) contributes to modifying the practi­ cal sense of the scene and its normative consequences for pedestrians. Therefore, O&M exercises produce opportunities for subverting the visible, taken-for-granted social order, which tends to expunge other internal alternative productions of intel­ ligible settings based on different sensorial infrastructures. Listening to the traffic in order to find a safe way to cross is one such alternative, methodical way of producing the intelligibility of urban settings, which subverts the dominant taken-for-granted practices based on sight. By engaging in learn­ ing exercises in public, blind or visually impaired students have an opportunity to display their abilities in front of others, and support this unexpected, but constant political interest in O&M courses. This subversion is produced from within the interlocking of several organizational levels. To come back to Sacks’s lectures, “different types of organizations may be layered onto each other” (1992, II, 561). This chapter has been a first attempt to clarify the multiple layers into which assis­ tance pre-proposals and their receptions are embedded. Transcription Conventions Data were transcribed according to conventions developed by Gail Jefferson  (2004) and commonly used in video conversation analysis [overlapping talk = latching (.) micro pause (0.6) timed pause : extension of the sound or the syllable it follows . stopping fall in tone , continuing intonation ? rising inflection mine emphasis _uh_ quieter fragment than its surrounding talk .h aspiration h out breath ((sniff)) described phenomena () string of talk for which no audio could be achieved * * delimitate one participant’s actions descriptions. + + delimitate other participant’s actions descriptions. . . . . gesture’s preparation ------- gesture’s apex is reached and maintained. ,,,,, gesture’s retraction.

46

Marc Relieu

Acknowledgements This work was supported in part by a grant from the MAIF Foundation. My special thanks go to Louis Quéré (CEMS-EHESS) for his valuable support when conduct­ ing the study. The author thanks the instructors in Orientation and Mobility and their students who accepted me, and my video and audio equipment during their courses, and took the time to explain what they did. I would also thank Brian L. Due and an anonymous reviewer for their helpful comments on an earlier draft of this chapter. Notes 1 The white cane is conventionally tied to a specific categorial incumbency. Blindness is supposed to be a visible category, with all kinds of normative consequences (see Due & Lange, 2018; Relieu, 1994; Relieu & Quéré, 1998). 2 The prospective helper is also projected into the asymmetrical category “sighted”. As stressed by Michel Barthelemy (2000), the pair “sighted/blind” is more a demarcative pair (see Lena Jayyusi, 1984, p. 122) than a standardized relational pair constitutive of a relationship. 3 Two remarks that constitute a form of “self-talk” (Goffman, 1981, p. 79).

References Antaki, C. (1994). Explaining and arguing: The social organization of accounts. Sage Publications. Barthelemy, M. (2000). Le message humanitaire et sa réception. In P. Gruson & R. Dulong (Eds.), L’expérience du déni: Bernard Mottez et le monde des sourds en débats (pp. 193– 220). EHESS. Broth, M., & Mondada, L. (2013). Walking away: The embodied achievement of activity closings in mobile interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 47(1), 41–58. Carlin, A. P. (2003). Observation and membership categorization: Recognizing “normal appearances” in public space. Journal of Mundane Behavior, 4(1), 77–91. De Stefani, E., & Mondada, L. (2014). Reorganizing mobile formations: When ‘guided’ participants initiate reorientations in guided tours. Space and Culture, 17(2), 57–175. Drew, P., & Kendrick, K. H. (2018). Searching for trouble: Recruiting assistance through embodied action. Social Interaction: Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 1(1). Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018). The Moses effect: The spatial hierarchy and joint accom­ plishment of a blind person navigating. Space and Culture, 21(2), 129–144. Fitzgerald, R. (2012). Membership categorization analysis: Wild and promiscuous or simply the joy of Sacks? Discourse Studies, 14(3), 305–311. Fox, B. A. (2015). On the notion of pre-request, Discourse Studies, 17(1), 41–63. Garfinkel, H. (1967). Studies in ethnomethodology. Prentice-Hall. Garfinkel, H. (2002). Ethnomethodology’s program: Working out Durkeim’s aphorism. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Garfinkel, H., & Livingston, E. (2003). Phenomenal field properties of order in formatted queues and their neglected standing in the current situation of inquiry. Visual Studies, 18(1), 21–28. Goffman, E. (1963). Behavior in public places: Notes on the social organization of gather­ ing. The Free Press. Goffman, E. (1971). Relations in public: Microstudies of the Public Order. Basic Books. Goffman, E. (1981). Forms of talk. Blackwell.

Assistance proposals between pedestrians and VIP

47

Goodwin, C. (2000). Action and embodiment within situated human interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 32(10), 1489–1522. Hester, S., & Eglin, P. (Eds.). (1997). Culture in action: Studies in membership categoriza­ tion analysis. University Press of America. Ivarsson, J., & Greiffenhagen, C. (2015). The organization of turn-taking in pool skate ses­ sions. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 48(4), 406–429. Jayyusi, L. (1984). Categorization and the moral order. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Jayyusi, L. (1988). Towards a socio-logic of the film text. Semiotica, 68(3/4), 271–296. Jefferson, G. (2004). Glossary of transcript symbols with an introduction. In G. H. Lerner (Ed.), Conversation analysis: Studies from the first generation (pp. 13–31). John Benja­ mins Publishing. Jefferson, G., Sacks H., & Schegloff, E. A. (1977). The preference for self-correction in the organization of repair in conversation. Language, 53(2), 361–382. Kendrick, K. H. (2021). The ‘other’ side of recruitment: Methods of assistance in social interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 178, 68–82. Kendrick, K. H., & Drew, P. (2016). Recruitment: Offers, requests, and the organization of assistance in interaction. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 49(1), 1–19. Lee, J. R. E., & Watson, D. R. (1993). Public space as an interactional order 5 [Final report to the Plan Urbain]. Department of Sociology, University of Manchester. Liberman, K. (2013). More studies in ethnomethodology. State University of New York Press. Livingston, E. (1987). Making sense of ethnomethodology. Routledge and Kegan Paul. McIlvenny, P. (2019). How did the mobility scooter cross the road? Coordinating with comovers and other movers in traffic. Language & Communication, 65, 105–130. McIlvenny, P., Broth, M., & Haddington, P. (2014). Moving together mobile formations in interaction. Space and Culture, 17, 104–106. Merlino, S., & Mondada, L. (2019). Crossing the street: How pedestrians interact with cars. Language & Communication, 65, 131–147. Mondada, L. (2009). Emergent focused interactions in public space: A systematic analysis of the multimodal achievement of a common interactional space. Journal of Pragmatics, 41(10), 1977–1997. Pillet-Shore, D. (2020). When to make the sensory social: Registering in face-to-face open­ ings. Symbolic Interaction, 44(1), 10–39. Psathas, G. (1992). The study of extended sequences: The case of the garden lesson. In G. Watson & R. M. Seiler (Eds.), Text in context: Contributions to ethnomethodology (pp. 99–122). Sage. Raymond, G. (2003). Grammar and social organization: Yes/no interrogatives and the struc­ ture of responding. American Sociological Review, 68(6), 939–967. Relieu, M. (1994). Les catégories dans l’action. L’apprentissage des traversées de rue par des non-voyants [Categories in action. Blind persons learning to cross the street]. Raisons Pratiques. L’enquête Sur Les Categories, 5, 185–218. Relieu, M. (1999). Du tableau statistique à l’image audiovisuelle. Lieux et pratiques de la représentation en sciences sociales [From the statistical table to the audiovisual image. Places and practices of representation in the social sciences]. Réseaux, 94, 49–86. Relieu, M., & Quéré, L. (1998). Mobilité, Perception et Sécurité dans les espaces publics urbains. Comment se déplacer quand on ne voit plus les choses ‘comme tout le monde’? [Mobility, perception and safety in urban public spaces. How to get around when you don’t see things ‘like everyone else’]. In M. Ansidéi, D. Dubois, & D. Fleury (Eds.), Risques urbains. Acteurs, systèmes de prévention. Economica.

48

Marc Relieu

Ryave, A. L., & Schenkein, J. N. (1974). Notes on the art of walking. In R. Turner (Ed.), Ethnomethodology (pp. 265–274). Penguin. Sacks, H. (1972a). An initial investigation of the usability of conversational data for doing sociology. In D. Sudnow (Ed.), Studies in social interaction (pp. 31–74). The Free Press. Sacks, H. (1972b). Notes on police assessment of moral character. In D. Sudnow (Ed.), Stud­ ies in social interaction (pp. 280–293). The Free Press. Sacks, H. (1974). On the analysability of stories by children. In R. Turner (Ed.), Ethnometh­ odology (pp. 216–232). Penguin. Sacks, H. (1992). Lectures on conversation. Blackwell. Sacks, H., Schegloff, E. A., & Jefferson, G. (1974). A simplest systematics for the organiza­ tion of turn-taking for conversation. Language, 50(4), 696–735. Schegloff, E. A. (1979). Identification and recognition in telephone conversation open­ ings. In G. Psathas (Ed.), Everyday language: Studies in ethnomethodology (pp. 23–78). Irvington Publishers. Schegloff, E. A. (1987). Some sources of misunderstanding in talk-in-interaction. Linguis­ tics, 25(1), 201–218. Schegloff, E. A. (1998). Body torque. Social Research, 65(5), 536–596. Schegloff, E. A. (2007). Sequence organization in interaction: A primer in conversation analysis. Cambridge University Press. Smith, R. J. (2017). Left to their own devices? The practical organisation of space, inter­ action, and communication in and as the work of crossing a shared space intersection. Sociologica, 11(2). Stokoe, E. (2012). Moving forward with membership categorization analysis: Methods for systematic analysis. Discourse Studies, 14(3), 277–303. Streeck, J., Goodwin, C., & LeBaron, C. (Eds.). (2011). Embodied interaction: Language and body in the material world. Cambridge University Press. Sudnow, D. (1972). Temporal parameters of interpersonal observation. In D. Sudnow (Ed.), Studies in social interaction (pp. 259–279). Free Press. vom Lehn, D. (2014). Timing is money: Managing the floor in sales interaction at streetmarket stalls. Journal of Marketing Management, 30(13–14), 1448–1466. Wakin, M. A., & Zimmerman, D. H. (1999). Reduction and specialization in emergency and directory assistance calls. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 32(4), 409–437. Watson, D. R. (1978). Categorization, authorization and blame-negotiation in conversation. Sociology, 12(1), 105–113. Watson, R. (1987). Interdisciplinary considerations in the analysis of proterms, In G. But­ ton & E. Lee (Eds.), Talk and social organisation (pp. 261–289). Multilingual Matters. Watson, R. (1994). Harvey Sacks’s sociology of mind in action. Theory, Culture & Society, 11(4), 169–186. Watson, R. (1997). Some general reflections on ‘categorization’ and ‘sequence’ in the analy­ sis of conversation. In P. Eglin & S. Hester (Eds.), Culture in action: Studies in member­ ship categorization analysis (pp. 49–76). University Press of America. Watson, R. (2003). The anthropology of communication: Foundations, futures and the anal­ ysis constructions of space. In T. Lask (Ed.), Constructions sociales de l’espace (pp. 193– 204). Editions de l’Université de Liège.

3

Shared intelligibility in interactions between visually impaired people and guide dogs Chloé Mondémé

Introduction This chapter examines a particular situation that is a clear example of complex interspecies joint action: a visually impaired person (VIP) with a guide dog walk­ ing in an urban environment. At the most basic level, this action involves two species walking together. This apparently simple activity has been described as a paradigmatic example of shared social action (Gilbert, 1990). More than simply the aggregation of two individuals, it is a case of doing something together (Ryave & Schenkein, 1974). Moreover, a VIP-guide-dog pair are not solely walking, but engaging in a variety of situations (e.g. crossing roads, avoiding obstacles) that rely heavily on perceptive resources and mutual trust. Achieving this trust may be a long process. Here, we will focus on one funda­ mental phase of this process, known as “adaptation”. In this initial phase, the dog’s former instructor supervises the pairing of a newly trained guide dog with a VIP, teaching both how to team up with their new partner. In particular, we will examine how the dog’s behaviour or bodily movements are made available and intelligible for all practical purposes (Garfinkel, 1967: vii). In other words, the interpretation of the dog’s behaviour is not analyzed in the framework of a debate on animal intentionality, as professional scientists or animal behaviourists might study it. On the contrary, for lay people, animal behaviour seems to be genuinely unproblematic and is treated practically as consisting of significant and meaningful actions. Empirically, the aim of this chapter is twofold: (1) to describe the practical resources through which the actions of walking, guiding, and avoiding obstacles are made tangible, intelligible, and accountable – focusing mainly on dogs’ embod­ ied procedures for communicating and making obstacles known; (2) to observe the way in which human participants make sense of this, which is visible both in their embodied conduct and, optionally, in the way they verbally report on it in the course of the activity. However, it should be noted that while these two aspects (physical and verbal) are distinguished here for analytic purposes, they generally occur simultaneously in the course of the action. More broadly, such situations raise the typical ethnomethodological question of how to make sense of another’s conduct – which is especially crucial in this case, as the “other” is another species, whose behaviour is therefore presumably not DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-3

50

Chloé Mondémé

easily readable through ordinary resources and common knowledge. This mobile “anthrozootechnical agencement” (Doré & Michalon, 2016), comprising a guide dog and a visually impaired person, includes an agent who sees but does not talk, and an agent who talks but does not see. In this respect, they lack what Garfinkel calls the necessary resources of everyday action management: “the practices of looking-and-telling” (Garfinkel, 1967: 1). And yet they are able to communicate and accomplish rather complex actions. This intriguing paradox invites an in-depth examination of what “intelligibility” means. This question is, of course, not spe­ cific to interspecies interactions, but it is particularly relevant in the context of situ­ ations such as these, in which access to visual and verbal resources is problematic. In general, the dog’s role is to facilitate the mobility of the VIP and, in particu­ lar, to circumvent any obstacles (e.g. steps, dumpsters, bicycles, obstructions on the sidewalk, etc.) or to assist with risky navigation (e.g. street crossings). This allows the VIP to be virtually autonomous while performing everyday activities on regular routes. The dog’s trajectory and postures are fundamental for conveying information about the ecology of the environment. A harness is one of the devices that makes this possible (Due & Lange, 2018). Our analysis will look at how shared intelligibility is created between a VIP and a guide dog based on various resources, focusing primarily on touch, albeit without denying the role played by other per­ ceptual cues (visual, when relevant, and auditory). We should introduce one caveat regarding the concept of “shared intelligibility”. This concept has been chosen because it enables us to deviate from a psychological notion of understanding (Mondada, 2011; see also for recent instances Lindwall & Lymer, 2011; Broth et al., 2019). The “intelligibility” of a dog’s conduct is thus not regarded as the ability to comprehend its will and motives, but as a practical orientation to the accomplishment of a joint action. We will provide a detailed analysis of how tactile intelligibility may be achieved between a VIP and a guide dog and go on to examine how accounting for obstacles is an embodied accomplishment initiated by the dog, but collectively managed by calling on a range of haptic resources. Finally, focusing on formulation practices, we will examine the way the ecology of the situation is perceived, described, and “notionalized” (Deppermann, 2011) into relevant categories. Prior research on interspecific interaction and communication Human-animal interspecific interaction is an emerging topic in the humanities and social sciences (see, for instance Kulick, 2017 in anthropology; Cornips, 2019 or Mondémé, 2019 in linguistics; Wilcox & Rutherford, 2018 in history; Arluke & Sanders, 1996 in sociology, or Haraway, 2008 in philosophy – in line with the emer­ gent idea of “multispecies ethnography” developed by Kirksey & Helmreich, 2010). The goal here is not to extensively review the flourishing literature in these fields but to note the studies that have furthered our understanding of interspecies communica­ tion, and which are relevant in accounting for phenomena of shared intelligibility between guide dogs and visually impaired people. Theoretically, the present study draws on an EM/CA framework. It will briefly report on the studies and findings

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

51

on the topic of human–animal interactions and on human–guide dogs in particular within this field and extend to approaches that take an interactionist view. Human–animal interactions in interactionist and EM/CA approaches

Symbolic interactionists were among the first to “regard” animals through a sociological lens, back in the 1990s. By adopting fieldwork methods to docu­ ment human–animal interactions through “empathic understanding (Verstehen)” (Arluke & Sanders, 1996: 19) or autoethnography, symbolic interactionists argued that animals should be treated as “minded social actors” (1996: 19). While Arnold Arluke and Clinton R. Sanders’s Regarding Animals (1996) is an important mile­ stone in contemporary sociological theory, it does not provide a detailed empirical analysis of face-to-face interactions. An ethnomethodological reading would cri­ tique the importance given to the understanding of the “perspective of the other”, via the Meadian notion of “meeting of minds”. In an ethnomethodological essay on playing with his own dog, David Goode (2007) adopts a critical reading of the symbolic interactionist approach, noting: Shared understandings are not a requirement for coordinated conversation or interaction among humans, which is not to say that shared understandings do not occur in human interaction, just that social orderliness is not predicated upon them. (Goode, 2007: 129) Why, then, should such importance be attributed to understanding the other’s per­ spective, when the other in question is an animal? Ethnomethodological works dealing with interspecies interaction have two major points of relevance for our argument: (1) they allow for the suspension of questions regarding animals’ minds and intentionality (or, as mentioned earlier, shared understanding); and (2) they highlight the relations of sequential dependencies between participants’ actions, and in doing so identify precise sequential formats that provide evidence that human–animal interactions, too, may be characterized by “order at all points” (Sacks, 1984). Two studies in particular have made decisive arguments: Goode’s monograph Playing with My Dog Katie (2007); and Laurier, Maze, and Lundin’s article (2006) on daily walks with dogs in urban parks. Both emphasize that it is consequential to treat dogs’ actions as “turns” embedded in specific formats (see also Crist & Lynch, 1990 for seminal remarks along these lines). Goode, for instance, elaborates on the interactional role of his dog’s actions, and their similarities with conversational uptakes: The way it worked has something to do with the ways dogs participate in conversation. I talked to Katie in the course of the play to exhort her to action, to tell her what action I wanted her to do, to ask her how she was feeling or if she was hurt, etc. Her “answer,” her turn of talk, was made in the

52

Chloé Mondémé form of behavior. Talk was thus meaningfully embedded in the unfolding, in situ course of mutually produced bodily events. (2007: 78)

Laurier et al. (2006) also identify specific formats, such as the “dog’s over-the­ shoulder look” (2006: 7) in which dog and owner maintain visual contact to coor­ dinate their walking together, and show the relation of adjacency implied in the mutual display and recognition of action. By demonstrating the “naturally accountable orderliness” (Garfinkel, 2002) in ordinary interspecies interactions, both of these studies indicate that an EM/CA approach is particularly relevant for shedding light on how participants, be they human or animal, display their orientation to the situation they are in, and sig­ nificantly relate their actions to each prior and next action (vom Lehn, 2019: 306). These lines of research provide insights that have been taken up in only a few studies to date, which have specifically focused on the identification of sequential formats in human–canine interactions (MacMartin et al., 2014 in veterinary clinics; Mondémé, 2019 on interactions between dog trainers and future guide dogs; and Mondémé, 2020 on interactions with domestic animals in households). This chap­ ter adds to the emerging interest in animal agency by focusing on how guide-dogs initiate specific actions and orient to their collective accomplishment. Interspecies joint action: the case of guide dogs

The complex organization comprising a guide dog and a VIP linked together by material artefacts (a harness, and sometimes also a leash) has been appre­ hended by the science and technology studies, and in particular by actor-network theory (ANT),1 in terms of “anthrozootechnical agencement” (Doré & Michalon, 2016). Extending the non-human turn to animals in general, ANT has provided valuable analytical concepts for grasping the complexity of the interconnection involved during an ordinary walk with a guide dog. The harness, for instance can be described as an “apparatus”, in Karen Barad’s (2007) sense of the term, through which the dog and the VIP are intertwined in a cohesive collective. The visually impaired anthropologist Iredale (2010) used a theoretically informed ANT framework to produce detailed analyses of such situations. Taking a Maus­ sian perspective inspired by Latour’s thought, Olivia von der Weid (2019) con­ siders that the association between a human and a guide dog is indeed a valuable case, which “challenges the bodily boundaries and the frontiers of interspecies subject and agency” (von der Weid, 2019). All these works are particularly inter­ esting sociological perspectives that aim to reconsider the role of the artefact and redistribute agency amongst participants, be they humans or non-humans (Latour, 2005). A few rare studies in EM/CA have specifically focused on settings involv­ ing animals in general and guide dogs in particular. Mondémé (2011; 2019) has extensively studied the orderly accomplished activity of guiding, identified sev­ eral sequential formats in which the dog initiates sequences, and emphasized the

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

53

role of haptic resources in interspecies communication (Mondémé, 2020). Brian Due and Simon Lange (2018) have described the guide dog as a prototypical type of resource, functioning as a “helpful cognitive extension” (2018: 287) – which, unlike a white cane, is “solution oriented” (2018: 305), in that it not only indicates obstacles but can also seek out walkable routes. In an analysis of a single case of a VIP commenting on his own and his guide-dog’s actions, Due (2021) has examined how a combination of resources (haptic, visual, auditory, vestibular) are involved in the activity of guiding and in the constitution of an “interspecies assemblage”. More broadly, the approach taken in our analysis echoes a growing body of EM/ CA studies on mobility in urban spaces (McIlvenny et al., 2009) and raises fun­ damental issues related to touch and haptic sociality (Goodwin, 2017; Cekaite & Mondada, 2020). Data and methodological issues Data and setting

The excerpts of this study are drawn from a set of video recordings at a guide-dog training school in France. The videos cover approximately 80 hours of interactions collected during the training of five dogs, by three different trainers, over a period of two years (2008–2009). The data analyzed in this chapter were collected with handheld cameras and follow these mobile interactions during a phase the practitioners call “adapta­ tion”. In this phase, a newly trained guide dog (around two years old) is given to a VIP in the presence of the trainer. The pair-in-the-making then undergo a test-week together at the guide-dog school, making daily routes in the presence of the trainer. While walking in actual urban areas, they face a range of unex­ pected situations. The trainer, at a distance, verifies if the partnership is working effectively, and if the dog and his or her future handler get on well. If this step is successful, the test is extended for another week, this time at the VIP’s residence. The “adaptation” phase takes place within a specific participation framework in which the trainer sporadically intervenes to offer advice or correct the dog’s behaviour, if needed. Our analysis focuses on six episodes that illustrate the progressive phases of this process: from the description of general practices used to convey intelligible fea­ tures of the environment, to a more precise case of obstacle avoidance (a specific but essential part of the activity of guiding). It concludes by examining cases of explicit formulations (through verbal accounts). Method, transcriptions, and methodographical elements

Based on a multimodal interactional approach, the analysis does not offer access to the individual’s experience and perception but rather to the “interactional uptake” (Cekaite, 2016) of the other’s observable behaviour (be it a dog or a human

54

Chloé Mondémé

participant). As a methodological proviso, we consider the non-human other as an agent (Lynch, 2007: xiv). However, using the vernacular vocabulary of human affairs to describe animal actions is not unproblematic and requires particular attention to the epistemological and methodological aspects of transcription. Simi­ larly, a careful and reflexive monitoring of the use of the descriptive vocabulary is needed. Eileen Crist (1999) discusses the epistemological effect of using the natu­ ral language of everyday action even to refer to animals’ actions, arguing that this results in bringing a “lived experiential perspective on events and actions” (Crist, 1999: 5). This emphasizes the fact that, in this context, humans and animals have in common a shared life-world, which is consistent with the phenomenological root of the ethnomethodological endeavor. In addition, such data require “methodographical” consideration – understood as a reflexive investigation of the research methods (Greiffenhagen et al., 2011). Drawing on conventions developed by Lorenza Mondada (2018) to transcribe multimodal features, we adapted this to encompass animals’ actions. We have chosen to transcribe multimodal actions (both the dog’s actions and those of the human participant) in bold, in contrast to the conventional use in CA. The idea here is to emphasize the role of embodied action over the verbal exchange in these interspecific interactions. This represents a conscious choice not to make verbal exchange the benchmark of analysis of social interactions (Nevile, 2015) and also echoes Elinor Ochs’s argument (1979) regarding the visual and spatial arrangement of the analytic material. As the graphical layout makes (hierarchi­ cal) differences of treatment visible, it seemed important, analytically as well as ethically, to accord symmetrical treatment to both human and non-human actions. Analysis Tactile intelligibility: making the environment tangible and conveying information

What are the resources used by human and canine participants to accomplish a joint action, in the ethnomethodological sense of the term, that is without necessarily formulating something verbally but by making it intelligible and accountable for one another? Postural, gestural, and tactile arrangements, through the harness, but also via direct touch on the animal’s head, form a major part of the communicative resources between VIPs and guide dogs. The following excerpt illustrates these practices of “tactile intelligibility”, displaying a sort of practical agreement about (1) the ongo­ ing action; and (2) the projected trajectory of the next action. In the first excerpt, the pair, consisting of Catherine (CAT) and her future dog Cheyenne (CHE) are crossing a street, under the supervision of Martin (MAR), the dog’s trainer. As they reach the opposite sidewalk, the dog marks the stop, with its front legs on the curb, as expected. The following transcript gives the details of the interaction.

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

55

Excerpt 3.1 Sidewalk 1

MAR

trottoir:

2

CAT

tro/ttoir\

3



CHEY

sidewalk sidewalk

(3.8) ¤(0.2) *(0.2)

CAT 4

MAR

*¤

¤front legs on curb¤ *...........*

*1à\ (.)

*1à

there

there

CAT

*palm on head*right foot sidewalk->6

5

MAR

*vous [pouvez la féliciter]

6

CAT

you can praise her

[#1.1*c’est ¤bien/¤] that’s good

*strokes--->8

       CHEY  7

MAR

8

CAT

 

 

 ¤bends¤walks->

et [en avant tout droit ] and right forward

[c’est bien\ ma belle]* that’s good good girl

--->*

9

10

CAT

(0.7)

c’est bien:\ tout droit/

that’s good

forward

As the pair reach the opposite sidewalk, Catherine acknowledges the presence of the curb by putting her foot on it, while praising the dog for her helpful behav­ iour, in both an embodied and a verbal way (line 6, image 1.1). They can now continue on their way. They deal with both the crossing and overcoming of the “obstacle” (the curb) fluidly and with no particular difficulty. Throughout, they are supported by verbal instructions from the trainer, Martin, who is supervising in the background (lines 4–5 and 7). Looking more closely at the kind of resources mobilized here, a key moment occurs starting in line 3, when the pair reach the sidewalk. As Cheyenne puts her right paw on the curb, Catherine begins a stroking gesture in the direction of the dog’s head (line 3), a gesture that is fully completed in line 4 when she places her palm on the dog’s head. Martin instructs Catherine to praise Cheyenne, even though Catherine was actually already doing so, in an embodied and tactile manner. Her vocal praise is then produced in overlap with his instruction (lines 5/6). At the very same time, the dog moves forward, raising her left hind leg, and bends forward.

56

Chloé Mondémé

The vocal and embodied assessment sequence lasts for a few seconds and ends in line 8. Catherine then gives the order to go forward and resume their route (line 10). Excerpt 3.1b is a close-up of precisely what happens in lines 4–6, showing that Cheyenne restarts after a very short pause, and simultaneously with Catherine’s verbal assessment “that’s good”, which operates as a sequence-closing token (Goodwin & Goodwin, 1992) in the sense that it allows the interaction to move on and progress – or, as the Goodwins put it, it constitutes a “resource for closing” the sequence (1992: 170). We might have expected Cheyenne to wait until the vocal order “forward” was given, yet she begins walking forward while Catherine is still stroking her head (image 1.6). Consider the following screengrabs, which inform the analysis of what happens while the dog is being stroked: Excerpt 3.1.B Sidewalk (Focus) 4 MAR #lbl là\ #lb2 (.) *#lb3 là #lb4 vous #1b5 *[pouvez la ] ¤féli¤#lb6citer there there you can praise her CAT *hand on head *strokes   CHEY                    ¤....¤walks-> 5 CAT [c’est bien/] that’s good

là\

vous

(.)

là

pouvez la féli

citer

This closer look shows that the embodied assessment (or praise), conveyed via stroking, precedes the trainer’s instruction: the instruction per se only unfolds dur­ ing images 1.4 to 1.6 (“you can praise her”). As Catherine places her foot on the curb, Cheyenne is already in motion (image 1.6). The participants do not appear to orient towards this apparent “anticipation” by the dog as problematic. Considering these different sequential elements, how can the stroking be ana­ lyzed in terms of the resources that create the intelligibility of the situation? One possibility is to consider the palm on the dog’s head as being at the same time: • A perceptive cue, identifying the dog’s head and thereby operating as an eco­ logical indication of the spatial organization of the street – in this case, the pres­ ence and the height of curb;

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

57

• An account allowing for the shared perception of the obstacle, and therefore enabling the operation to proceed efficiently; and • A positive assessment (a stroke) in a closing position, which is used to evaluate the ongoing action and provide resources for resuming the route. These apparently distinct aspects form a unique gestalt of distributed perceptionaction. In this respect, it is similar to the tactile contact that Cekaite (2010, 2016) documents in parent–child interactions: embedded in directive sequences, tactile contact is a way to both receive and convey information with an “instrumental” function (Cekaite, 2016: 33). Similarly, here, tactile contact provides Catherine with information on the position and height of the step, while also offering some information to the dog (in the form of accounting for the identification of the obsta­ cle, and permission to go on). In these moments of coordination, embodied and tactile engagement is crucial: between parents and children, “tactile engagement [is] employed as significant means for coordinating embodied social interaction” (Cekaite, 2010: 20) – a point that also holds true in interspecies interactions. The possibility of resuming the activity rests on this tactile agreement. It pro­ vides the resources for making physical objects tangible and situations intelligible. In this respect, tactile intelligibility bears some analogy with discursive indexical­ ity, as it allows participants to “verify mutual understanding” (Rawls, 1989: 162). In a case as previously described, as in the majority of road crossings, the VIP and the dog mutually orient to the accomplishment of the ongoing task and project the next one. Shared indexicality is made possible by the bodily arrangement, and the intelligibility of the situation is secured by drawing on a range of tactile resources. Avoiding obstacles

In the course of an ordinary walk, a VIP may encounter a vast range of impedi­ ments, and therefore obstacle avoidance is a crucial part of the guide dog’s duties. In such cases, the dog initiates the action of rerouting the trajectory – and this must be interpreted as a deliberate action of avoidance (and not as distraction, for exam­ ple). Although initiated by the dog, the manoeuvre is collaboratively managed. Focusing on these “warning sequences”, by which the dog, through its embodied movements and changes in pace, informs the VIP that they are facing an obstacle, we can identify the acoustic, discursive, gestural, and tactile resources mobilized. The dog is trained to adopt one of two kinds of attitudes when facing an obstacle: (1) either an obstacle is obstructing the way and the dog should walk around it in a “crabwise” manner to circumvent the obstacle, with enough leeway so that the VIP can avoid it too; (2) or, if the obstacle is passable (a step, for instance), the dog should signal this by standing with its front legs on the curb, as in the previous excerpt. The two fol­ lowing excerpts illustrate the first situation in which an obstacle needs to be bypassed. In the next excerpt, Catherine and Cheyenne are returning to the guide-dog school, still under Martin’s supervision. An electric junction box on the sidewalk obstructs their path, forcing the pair to walk around it to avoid it. As they are still

58

Chloé Mondémé

in a training phase, Catherine has been notified by Martin that they are about to encounter an obstacle (without revealing its nature). As such, at the outset of this excerpt, Catherine is telling Cheyenne to pay attention: Excerpt 3.2 Electrical Power Box 1

CAT

doucement/ (.) doucement ¤cheyenne attention#2.1¤ slowly slowly careful Cheyenne CHEY          ¤gazes at the white box¤ 2 (2.2) 3 MAR c’est ¤bien::/ ¤ that’s good CHEY     ¤back legs in gutter¤crabbing--->7 4 (1.0) 5 MAR c’est: bien[:: #2.2 that’s good 6 CAT [ c’est bien [ma belle] that’s good my sweetie 7 MAR [ su::]¤pERbe ¤OOha= wonderful wow CHEY --->¤climbs up¤ 8 CAT =bien\ ma bel[le ] good my sweetie

Image 2.1

Image 2.2

As Catherine knows that they will encounter an obstacle, although not what kind, she gets the dog’s attention ahead of time, asking her to be slow and cautious (“slowly, careful Cheyenne”). At that moment, Cheyenne focuses on the obstacle (image 2.1). As soon as the dog puts her back legs in the gutter (end of line 3 in the transcript), preparing for a “crabbing motion”, she is immediately rewarded by a positive assessment from Martin (line 5). Her movement clearly shifts the harness from its initial position, so that Catherine is guided safely around the obstacle. “Crabbing” (or sideways walking) is an important way in which the dog can bodily account for the presence of an obstacle in the trajectory. The successful navigation of the obstacle is followed by a series of assessments produced by both the trainer

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

59

and the VIP, acknowledging the difficulty and the fact that it was successfully overcome (from lines 5 to 8). In most situations, however, obstacles are dealt with in a perfectly routine and fluid way, in an almost unnoticed manner – which is the ultimate aim of the activ­ ity of guiding. This is shown in the following very short excerpt. The VIP Josy and Cookie, her new guide dog, are on an adaptation walk. The trainer is walking behind the pair at a distance and remains silent throughout. A postal worker is doing his rounds and has left his mail cart in front of the door, on the sidewalk. While the cart is not directly in the dog’s way, it is in the VIP’s projected trajec­ tory. The dog has to take into account the physical and mobile unit he forms with his future handler and adjust their shared trajectory accordingly. The following six images capture how this (completely non-verbal) sequence unfolds. Excerpt 3.3 Postal Worker

I have not reproduced a timeline, as the analytic focus here is on key moments rather than extrinsic time measurements. These unfold as follows: • A few tenths of a second during which the dog focuses on the obstacle (image 3.1); • An initiation of the crabbing manoeuvre with the hind legs (image 3.2); • The accomplishment of the passing of the obstacle with a clear rotation of the body and an adjustment in the pace and body position of the VIP (images 3.3, 3.4, and 3.5); and • The pair successfully resume their route (image 3.6). A key point here is that Cookie does not simply adjust to avoid the obstacle itself – which would be a very minimal form of self-preservation – but considers the whole mobile entity that he forms with the VIP.

60

Chloé Mondémé

This sequence is achieved without mobilizing any verbal or discursive accounts. The fluidity of its accomplishment shows the routine character of the action of avoidance, which is initiated by the dog and cooperatively managed. On a practi­ cal level, the dog adjusts its behaviour to local contingencies, drawing on practical categories (here for instance, the generic category of “obstacle” and, more pre­ cisely, “obstacle to get around”). Such categories are (1) not mobilized verbally but (2) activated in action, with a certain degree of generality and regularity – in each instance, these obstacles are interpreted as presenting possible “negative affordances” (Gibson, 1979; Relieu, 1999: 61). The dog’s practical reasoning is not simply the analyst’s interpretation but rather the assumption of a member who is being guided in complete confidence (see Mondémé, 2019 on the notion of “practi­ cal reasoning” to characterize an animal’s actions). In terms of “how to make sense of one’s behavior”, it is interesting to observe how, in both cases of obstacle avoidance, the detailed unfolding of a trajectory is treated as an increment of the relevant units towards which the VIP orients. Argu­ ably, embodied behaviour, even when accomplished by non-human participants, conveys knowledge about the world. This has important consequences for the topic at hand, as it provides evidence for the epistemic character of embodied action, even if, obviously, it has no propositional or semantic content. Formulating actions and sensations

As mentioned previously, walking together and managing obstacle avoidance relies heavily on tactile and haptic communication. To better investigate how this process of tactile intelligibility is progressively created, it is interesting to look at moments that pertain to the training itself, which involve the explicit formulation of actions and sensations elicited by the dog trainer. In an adaptation walk, the trainer is there to ensure that the pair are work­ ing together well, which is why he or she often requests explicit formulations of the situation. This helps to ensure (1) that the VIP is able to perceive the kind of information the dog was trained to convey; (2) that perceptive phenomena are dis­ tinctly identified (for instance that the avoidance movement has been made clearly accountable); and (3) that it can therefore be identified as falling within a relevant ad hoc category (obstacle, step, other dog, etc.). While the literature on formulations has mostly focused on accounts that rephrase verbal descriptions (Garfinkel & Sacks, 1970; Schegloff, 2007; Herit­ age & Watson, 1979, inter alia), in this context, formulations relate to an embodied behaviour, sometimes occurring during a completely non-verbal sequence. What is formulated, then – or notionalized (Deppermann, 2011) – is a complete embodied sequence of “silent action” (Mondada, 2019) specifically pertaining to haptic sen­ sations and kinaesthetic perceptions. For instance, the following excerpt takes place just a few seconds after the crab­ bing movement in excerpt 3.2. The pair (Catherine and her dog Cheyenne) stop at a crossroads, and the trainer (Martin) elicits a verbal formulation:

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

61

Excerpt 3.4 Did You Feel the Crab-Thingy? 1

MAR CAT

2 3

MAR CAT

4 5

6

CAT

$donc ell- vous avez senti 1’histoire du crabe/ so she- did you feel the crab-thingy $strokes Chey’s head -->3 (1.3) ou: euh:$ c’est passé inaperçu/ or uh was it unnoticed -->$ (0.9) euh:: j’ai sent- elle $avait#4.1 un- tourné un ptit peu$#4.2 uh I feltshe turned slightly $rotational mvt with right arm $ quand j’suis passée when I passed

The trainer begins with a formulation “so she-” but immediately self-repairs with a question selecting CAT as the relevant next speaker: “did you feel the crab­ thingy?” For pedagogical purposes, it is important that the VIP herself formulates what she understood during the activity, rather than being provided with a pre­ made explanation. In particular, the emphasis is on enkinaesthetic feelings (Stuart, 2018), via the formulation “did you feel”, which seeks to verify the readability of the dog’s movements during the manoeuvre. The question is followed by a rather long pause (1.3 sec), while Catherine strokes the dog’s head. Martin treats the delay as indicative of a potential lack of uptake and reformulates the question, line 3 (“or uh was it unnoticed?”). After a short pause and a very long hesitation marker (“uh::”), Catherine finally produces an answer (line 5) consisting of both a verbal formulation and an embodied account (making iconic gestures with her arm that mimic the dog’s motion – as indicated by the red arrows on the transcript). Cath­ erine first takes up Martin’s verb of sensation “I felt”, then produces a more factual description of the dog’s movement (“she turned slightly when I passed”). This verbal and embodied reformulation of Cheyenne’s behaviour provides information about the accountability and intelligibility of her motion and trajectory. Excerpt 3.5 exhibits a similar case of collectively accomplished obstacle avoid­ ance. This time, Josy (JOS) and her dog Cookie (COOK) are approaching a busstop post located on the sidewalk. The trainer, Steven (STE), is supervising from

62

Chloé Mondémé

behind. The adaptation phase has almost been fully completed and the pair are now more advanced. Excerpt 3.5 Did You Understand? 1

¤(4.0) #5.1

2 STE

¤tention= ¤

  COOK 

¤slows down¤

3 JOS

=en avant=

4 STE

¤=tention #5.2

  COOK 

¤crabbing-->

5 JOS

en av[ant ]

  COOK 

6 STE

JOS

careful

forward

careful

Image 5.1

forward

[ouaip] t’as compris/ pourquoi¤ il fait ça/ yep

did you understand why he did that --->¤

$(1.5)#5.3

$

$shoulder brushes against post$

8 STE

voi:là

9 JOS

y’a un obsta\cle

Image 5.2

¤

¤walks and focuses on post¤

  COOK  7



that’s why

there’s an obstacle

Image 5.3

In this excerpt, the pair are walking along the sidewalk in a straight trajectory when Cookie focuses on the post. He slows down his gait as they approach the obstacle (image 5.1). In lines 2 and 4, before they reach the obstacle, the trainer draws Josy’s attention to the upcoming difficulty by saying “careful” at a low

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

63

volume. Regardless of this advice (which was perhaps inaudible, as it was uttered very quietly), and instead of treating Cookie’s behaviour as an embodied display of “warning”, Josy seems to treat his change of pace as an unexpected (and perhaps dispreferred) behaviour, and therefore twice gives the verbal order to go forward (lines 3 and 5). At this stage, she does not seem to notice that the dog is actually displaying, by slowing down, the presence of an upcoming obstacle. In between, as seen in line 4, Cookie begins his sideways motion and places his back paws in the gutter, despite being given contradictory verbal orders. Steven con­ tinues to monitor the progress by looking over Josy’s shoulder (image 5.2). In a very quick sequence, after passing the post, the dog steps back up on the sidewalk with his hind legs, and they resume their route, returning to the initial trajectory (image 5.3). While the dog is still “crabbing”, Steven immediately solicits a formulation, and asks Josy to produce a verbal account of the situation “yep, did you understand why he did that?” (line 6). Steven’s turn is paradigmatic of the phenomena of dou­ ble orientation that trainers encounter during the adaptation phases: they need to simultaneously evaluate not only the dog’s behaviour, but also the VIP’s actions and understanding of the situation, as well as how they function as a team. In this respect, the interactional role of the turn-initial “yep” (line 6) is interesting: it is an assess­ ment of both the overall accomplishment of the manoeuvre and the recipient design for the pair, even though the following question is more clearly addressed to Josy. The idea is, of course, to make sure that the dog’s behaviour is not treated as random (or worse, as hazardous), but as a true warning practice that can help the VIP avoid obstacles – at least retrospectively. This also serves to ensure the consist­ ency of the category for future upcoming obstacles. After a long pause in line 7, Steve uses a deictic expression pointing at the successful achievement of the action (“voilà”, line 8). Josy then produces a formulation using the present tense, as if the action was still ongoing (“there’s an obstacle”). Not only was Josy asked a question that called upon her to interpret the animal’s behaviour, but she was also invited to use the embodied sensations of making contact with the post (with her shoulder, line 7, image 5.3) as a resource for providing a full-sentence answer to the question in line 6. Through a variety of resources, it is essential for all the participants that a practical category (namely, here, “obstacle”) emerges through the process. Feeling the movement is crucial, and its reformulation in the form of a verbal account allows the participants to “build the description into a category” as Arnulf Deppermann (2011) puts it, therefore constituting a kind of “notionalization”. In this case, however, the significant difference is that it is not a verbal descriptive discourse (in the form of a multi-unit turn) that is being transformed into a clear­ cut categorization, but an entire behaviour that is being adjusted to the contextual features of an ever-changing environment. In this excerpt, as in many instances of obstacle avoidance, the dog manages the approach by himself. In this case, however, the dog’s behaviour is not immediately ratified by the VIP, who appears not to notice Cookie’s change in pace. Ultimately, it is the trainer’s role to ensure that the dog’s behaviour is noticeable. This is one stage, among others, in the diachronic process of construction of mutual trust. However, in most instances, especially when the “adaptation” phase is almost completed, road crossings and obstacle avoidances are dealt with smoothly, safely,

64

Chloé Mondémé

and silently. The next excerpt provides an example of a situation in which the trainer’s request for reformulation can be seen as optional, as the VIP has already practically displayed her understanding of the situation. Again, this excerpt includes Josy, her dog Cookie, and Steven. After having crossed one road (before the beginning of the excerpt), they are about to take a pedestrian crossing located just on their right (not visible in the image, although its location is indicated by the curb visible at the bottom right). Excerpt 3.6 Did You Feel Why 1 JOS

2

JOS 3 JOS   COOK  4 5 JOS   COOK  6   COOK  7 STE 8 9 JOS

Image 6.1

$c’est bien::: that’s good $strokes cook’s head--->2 (1.0)$ (1.0) $ --->$straightens up$ à droi/te les li¤gnes #6.1 the lines on your right ¤walks forward--> (1.2) ¤N:An/ #6.2 ¤ à droi/te les lignes¤ NO on your right the lines ¤turns right¤focuses on crosswalk ¤ ¤(1.5) ¤ ¤sits     ¤ nickel\ (0.3) est cՙque t’as senti son déplacement et great did you feel his moving and pourquoi il xx xxx/ #6.3 why he xxx oui il allait tout droit yes he was going straight ahead

Image 6.2

Image 6.3

The excerpt begins with a positive assessment, retrospectively praising Cookie’s behaviour, after having successfully crossed the road. Cookie is quickly stroked on the head and is immediately given the order to “find the lines”, referring to the pedestrian crossing on the right. However, he does not immediately fulfil the task. In line 5, Josy repeats her verbal order, but this time her turn is prefaced by a loud

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

65

“no”, inviting her to treat the dog’s forward motion (which occurs in line 4) as a lack of appropriate response. This “no”-prefaced turn is, in that sense, a repair of the dog’s behaviour, as also evidenced in the emphasis on the direction (“right”, line 5). Simultaneously, however, Cookie reorients his trajectory (image 6.2). Once both are facing the crosswalk, the dog stops and sits, as he has been trained to do (image 6.3). This allows for a pause in the activity and a retrospective comment on what just happened. This very short sequence of trouble is thus commented upon, and, as in the previous excerpt, offers an opportunity for reformulation, as elicited by the trainer. This time, the request for formulation collocates a verb of percep­ tion (“did you feel”) not only with an expected noun phrase (“his moving”), but – more surprisingly – with an interrogation about the reason (“why”). This prompt to formulate what happened is immediately followed by Josy’s response: “yes he was going straight ahead”. Indeed, Josy’s previous embodied behaviour and verbal uptake (“no” followed by a repetition of the order, line 5) have already demonstrated that she had perfectly understood where the dog was heading. Thus, the formulation in this case is optional in terms of the efficient accomplishment of the activity of guiding – it is an artefact, so to speak, linked to the presence of the trainer. These excerpts show how participants make sense of the dog’s behaviour throughout the activity. They are prompted to make verbally explicit the intelligible character of the situation and elaborate ad hoc relevant categories. In all the cases analyzed, feeling, perception and reasoning are “cognitive activities” (Lynch, 2006) that are intertwined, and drawn upon to construct relevant categories: “feeling that” (ex. 4), “understanding why” (ex. 5), or “feeling why” (ex. 6). This supports an empiricist argument, according to which knowledge about the world is embedded in feelings, perceptions, bodily movements, and mobile trajectories, illustrating the emergent and collective character of inference and practical reasoning. Conclusion The excerpts analyzed in this chapter show how the intelligibility of a guiding situ­ ation – understood not only as the perception of environmental features and their affordances but also as a form of agreement on what to do next – is collectively managed, distributed between participants of a diverse nature and belonging to dif­ ferent species, and heavily reliant on tactile resources (to reflexively receive and convey relevant information). Although verbal formulations of these complex processes are only one possible way to account for shared intelligibility, they are crucial in the specific context of the adaptations phase, in which a third party (the trainer) must supervise and assess the situation and the new partnership. The excerpts demonstrate this progressive establishment of mutual trust, with the trainer’s conduct consisting of creating a rational link between the dog’s proposal (embodied in specific behaviours), the ecological situation, and the expected possible uptake by the VIP. Once this link is created, the sequences become fluid, strictly non-verbal, and the pair make a com­ mon trajectorial adjustment. Empirically, the focus of this chapter shows one modality of the “practical accomplishment of living as visually impaired” (Due, introduction): that of living

66

Chloé Mondémé

and interacting with non-human beings to perform everyday tasks.2 More broadly, it provides insights into specific “sensory modalities of knowing” (Haraway, 2008: 371), in particular haptic communication, highlighting tactile forms of interspecies sociality (see also Mondémé, 2020). Methodologically, our analysis makes the case for describing animals’ actions with the vocabulary of natural language – thereby attributing authorship and mean­ ingfulness to their behaviour (Crist, 1999) – as participants themselves do in the course of the situation observed. In that sense, ascribing meaning to animal behav­ iour and treating their actions as equivalent to conversational “turns” (Mondémé, 2022) can be regarded as a genuine “ethnomethod”, and therefore as a resource for the analyst’s enquiry. Notes 1 Despite important epistemological differences, actor-network theory shares certain inter­ ests with ethnomethodology (from the first laboratory studies conducted in the 1980s), namely the same endeavor to turn away from classical ontological reasoning to consider the links and entanglements between social agents and materiality. Lynch (2019) de­ scribes Latour’s aim as an attempt to “turn away from an exclusively humanistic concep­ tion of action and agency” and find “ultimate sources of agency . . . in fields or networks of humans, technologies, non-human beings, and things” (2019: 148). 2 This pertains to a small segment of the visually impaired population: in France, less than 1% of visually impaired people live with a guide dog; in the UK, the figure is 2.5%, ac­ cording to Gaunet and Milliet (2010).

References Arluke A., Sanders C. (1996). Regarding Animals. Animals, Culture, and Society. Philadel­ phia, Temple University Press. Barad K. (2007). Meeting the Universe Halfway: Quantum Physics and the Entanglement of Matter and Meaning. Durham, Duke University Press. Broth M., Cromdal J., Levin L. (2019). Telling the other’s side: Formulating others’ mental states in driver training. Language and Communication, 65, 7–21. Cekaite A. (2010). Shepherding the child: Embodied directive sequences in parent-child interactions. Text & Talk, 30(1), 1–25. Cekaite A. (2016). Touch as social control: Haptic organization of attention in adult-child interactions. Journal of Pragmatics, 92, 30–42. Cekaite A., Mondada L. (eds.) (2020). Touch in Social Interaction: Touching Moments. Lon­ don, New York, Routledge. Cornips L. (2019). The final frontier: Non-human animals on the linguistic research agenda. In J. Berns, E. Tribushinina (eds.), Linguistics in the Netherlands 36, 13–19. Amsterdam, John Benjamins. Crist E. (1999). Images of Animals: Anthropomorphism and Animal Mind. Philadelphia, Temple University Press. Crist E., Lynch M. (1990). The analyzability of human-animal interaction: The case of dog training. Paper presented at the International Sociological Association Meeting, Madrid, July. Deppermann A. (2011). Notionalizations: The transformation of descriptions into categori­ zations. Human Studies, 34(2), 155–181.

Shared intelligibility between VIP and guide dogs

67

Doré A., Michalon J. (2016). What makes human–animal relations ‘organizational’? The De-Scription of anthrozootechnical agencements. Organization, 24(6), 761–780. Due B. (2021). Interspecies intercorporeality and mediated haptic sociality: Distributing perception with a guide dog. Visual Studies, 38(1), 3–16. Due B. L., Lange S. (2018). Semiotic resources for navigation: A video ethnographic study of blind people’s uses of the white cane and a guide dog for navigating in urban areas. Semiotica (222), 287–312. Garfinkel H. (1967). Studies in Ethnomethodology. Prentice-Hall. Garfinkel H. (2002). Ethnomethodology’s Program: Working Out Durkheim’s Aphorism. Lanham, Rowman & Littlefield. Garfinkel H., Sacks H. (1970). On formal structures of practical action. In J. C. McKinney, E. A. Tiryakian (eds.), Theoretical Sociology: Perspectives and Developments, 338–366. New York, Appleton-Century-Crofts. Gaunet F., Milliet J. (2010). Le rapport des personnes déficientes visuelles au chien guide. Comment l’usage du chien guide pourrait-il se développer en France? Alter, 4(2), 116–133. Gibson J. J. (1979). The Ecological Approach to Visual Perception. New York, Taylor & Francis. Gilbert M. (1990). Walking together: A paradigmatic social phenomenon. Midwest Studies in Philosophy, 15, 1–14. Goode D. (2007). Playing with My Dog Katie: An Ethnomethodological Study of Dog– Human Interaction. Purdue University Press. Goodwin C., Goodwin M. H. (1992). Assessments and the construction of context. In A. Duranti, C. Goodwin (eds.), Rethinking Context: Language as an Interactive Phenom­ enon, 147–190. Cambridge, CUP. Goodwin M. H. (2017). Haptic sociality: The embodied interactive construction of intimacy through touch. In C. Meyer, J. Streeck, J. Scott Jordan (eds.), Intercorporeality: Emerging Socialities in Interaction. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Greiffenhagen C., Mair M., Sharrock W. (2011). From methodology to methodography: A Study of qualitative and quantitative reasoning in practice. Methodological Innovations Online, 6(3), 93–107. Haraway D. (2008). When Species Meet. Minneapolis, London, University of Minnesota Press. Heritage J., Watson D. R. (1979). Formulations as conversational objects. In G. Psathas (ed.), Everyday Language, 123–162. New York, Irvington. Iredale A. (2010). Guiding entanglements: An exploration into the Triune seeing eye part­ nership with an emphasis on the guide dog harness as Latourian actor and Baradian appa­ ratus. In Meeting of the Society for Cultural Anthropology. Santa Fe, 8 May. Kirksey S. E., Helmreich S. (2010). The emergence of multispecies research. Cultural Anthropology, 25, 545–576. Kulick D. (2017). Human-animal communication. Annual Review of Anthropology, 46, 357–378. Latour B. (2005). Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network-Theory. Oxford, Oxford University Press. Laurier E., Maze R., Lundin J. (2006). Putting the dog back in the park: Animal and human mind-in-action. Mind, Culture and Activity, 13(1), 2–24. Lindwall O., Lymer G. (2011). Uses of “understand” in science education. Pragmatics, 43, 452–474. Lynch M. (2006). Cognitive activities without cognition? Ethnomethodological investiga­ tions of selected ‘cognitive’ topics. Discourse Studies, 8(1), 95–104. Lynch M. (2007). Introduction. In D. Goode (ed.), Playing with My Dog Katie an Eth­ nomethodological Study of Dog–Human Interaction, xiii–xv. Purdue University Press.

68

Chloé Mondémé

Lynch M. (2019). Ontography as the study of locally organized ontologies. ZMK Zeitschrift für Medien- und Kulturforschung, Special Issue on ‘Ontography’, 147–160. DOI: 10.28937/1000108239 MacMartin C., Coe J., Adams C. (2014). Treating distressed animals as participants: I know responses in veterinarians’ pet-directed talk. Research on Language and Social Interac­ tion, 47(2), 151–174. McIlvenny P., Broth M., Haddington P. (2009). Communicating place, space and mobility. Journal of Pragmatics, 41(10), 1879–1886. Mondada L. (2011). Understanding as an embodied, situated and sequential achievement in interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(2), 542–552. Mondada L. (2018). Multiple temporalities of language and body in interaction: Challenges for transcribing multimodality. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 51(1), 85–106. Mondada L. (2019). Transcribing silent actions: A multimodal approach of sequence organi­ zation. Social Interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 2(1). Mondémé C. (2011). Animal as subject matter for social sciences: When linguistics addresses the issue of dog’s “speakership”. In P. Gibas, K. Pauknerova, M. Stella (eds.), Non-humans in Social: Science: Animals, Spaces, Things, 87–104. Cerveny Kostelec, Pavel Mervart. Mondémé C. (2019). La socialité interspécifique. Pour une analyse multimodale des inter­ actions hommes-chiens. Limoges, Lambert-Lucas. Mondémé C. (2020). Touching and petting: Exploring “haptic sociality” in interspecies interaction. In A. Cekaite, L. Mondada (eds.), Touch in Social Interaction: Touching Moments. New York, Routledge. Mondémé C. (2022). Why study turn-taking sequences in interspecies interactions? Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour, 52(1), 67–85. Nevile M. (2015). The embodied turn in research on language and social interaction. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 48(2), 121–151. Ochs E. (1979). Transcription as theory. In E. Ochs, B. Schieffelin (eds.), Developmental Pragmatics, 43–72. New York, Academic Press. Rawls A. W. (1989). Language, self, and social order: A re-evaluation of Goffman and Sack. Human Studies, 12(1), 147–172. Relieu M. (1999). Les catégories dans l’action. L’apprentissage des traversées par des élèves non-voyants. In B. Fradin, L. Quéré, J. Widmer (eds.), Raisons Pratiques. L’enquête sur les categories, 185–218. Paris, Editions de l’E.H.E.S.S. Ryave L., Schenkein J. N. (1974). Notes on the art of walking. In R. Turner (ed.), Eth­ nomethodology, 265–274. Harmondsworth, Penguin. Sacks H. (1984). Notes on methodology. In J. Atkinson, J. Heritage (eds.), Structures of Social Action. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 2–27. Schegloff E. A. (2007). Sequence Organization in Interaction: A Primer in Conversation Analysis (Vol. 1). Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Stuart S. A. J. (2018). Enkinaesthesia: Proto-moral value in action-enquiry and interaction. Phenomenology and the Cognitive Sciences, 17(2), 411–431. vom Lehn D. (2019). From Garfinkel’s ‘experiments in miniature’ to the ethnomethodologi­ cal analysis of interaction. Human Studies, 42(2), 305–326. Von der Weid O. (2019). On the way: Technique, movement and rhythm in the training of guide dogs. VIBRANT, Virtual Brazilian Anthropology, 16. DOI: 10.1590/180943412019v16d553 Wilcox S., Rutherford S. (eds). (2018). Historical Animal Geographies. London, Routledge.

4

Guided by the blind Discovering the competences

of visually impaired co-authors

in the practice of collaborative

audio-description

Maija Hirvonen1

Introduction This chapter studies the interaction between visually impaired and sighted people (co­ authors2) in the context of teamwork in audio-description. Audio-description is a profes­ sional translation field and requires specific expertise. By analyzing work procedures in which the teams carry out certain tasks, I aim to describe how visual impairment is used as a resource for accomplishing these tasks, and how the visually impaired co-author’s competences are both independent of and dependent on their visual impairment. Audio-description is an access service primarily targeted at visually disabled peo­ ple to support their participation in audiovisual and visual culture and communication. It often takes the form of audible narration added to films, television programmes, theatrical plays, and the like. Audio-description is intermodal translation: visual information or representations are described with words and delivered in speech to be perceived via hearing. Audio-descriptions are produced to various extents in dif­ ferent countries and languages (see, e.g. Taylor & Perego, 2022). Some countries have developed a professional practice in which audio-descriptions are prepared in face-to-face interaction among teams consisting of sighted and blind experts. Visu­ ally impaired professionals are employed to safeguard the quality of the translation by taking the user perspective into account (on visually impaired-sighted teamwork in AD, see Benecke, 2014; Schruhl, 2021; on collaborative translation, O’Brien, 2011). Collaborative audio-description is a type of workplace interaction “in which the participants are work colleagues and operate within the same knowledge domain of professional expertise, although also possessing their own separate stocks of specialized expert knowledge” (Nissi & Lehtinen, 2016, p. 3). The imbalances and different levels of knowledge and the way in which co-participants share and man­ age them are profitable to many work-related tasks (ibid.), and this will be demon­ strated in the analysis of collaborative AD data in this chapter. Audio-description teamwork involves cooperatively analyzing and interpret­ ing visual and auditory information and formulating linguistic constructions to display this information. In other words, it consists of meaning-making based on multimodal information within multimodal and multimedial interaction between humans and between humans and technology. The study of such meaning-making DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-4

70

Maija Hirvonen

processes contributes new knowledge to interactional semantics and to the research of meaning-making in interaction (e.g., Deppermann, 2019). While many aspects of meaning-making tend to remain implicit in everyday interaction (Deppermann, 2019, p. 174), the interaction in professional translation processes makes them explicit, and therefore also empirically observable, as the understandings and meanings of the audiovisual information to be translated into words are formu­ lated and displayed via verbal and embodied resources and multimodal practices. Further, it can be claimed that audio-describing is “doing seeing” very concretely (see Gibson & vom Lehn, 2020, p. 90) – that is, perceiving and interpreting visual information. The practice becomes all the more interesting when it involves visu­ ally impaired people. Competences and asymmetric interaction How can people with asymmetric participation resources interact in competent ways while carrying out joint activities? This question has inspired conversationanalytical research for quite some time. Competence denotes the skilful use of communication and action as devices for activity accomplishment, whereby skil­ fulness is to be understood in concrete, situational terms as contributing to the interaction at hand, rather than as an abstract property residing in the mind.3 The concept of “competence” (the ability to perform something appropriately) has its roots in psychology and language acquisition (e.g. Hymes, 1971 on communi­ cative competence). In as much as it is made “a public phenomenon”, it is also available for study in ethnomethodological conversation analysis (Okada, 2013, p. 391). Interaction(al) competence refers to “the ability to properly participate in communication” (Okada, 2013, p. 390). In the area of professional or institu­ tional interaction, competence can be studied in terms of how interactants manage the resources at hand to achieve interactive or work-related goals. Competence is related to expertise, which can be understood as ownership of some (knowledge) domain (Nissi & Lehtinen, 2016, p. 3, following Sharrock, 1974). Competences and the resources with which they are enacted are central topics in the study of asymmetric interaction. Asymmetry is a driving force for interac­ tion, and each interactive situation is asymmetric: no two people share completely the same background, perceptual capabilities, intentions and so on, and therefore they will always be somewhat unequal. Or, as Enfield (2011) puts it, each of the building blocks of human social interaction (enchrony, status, knowledge, and agency) is a source of asymmetry. A typical object of analysis has been interaction between co-participants who have asymmetries in their expertise and in their rights and responsibilities with regard to knowledge (of a particular domain), like doctor– patient or teacher–student interaction (e.g. Stivers et al., 2011). Epistemic asym­ metry, on the other hand – which is an inescapable element of human interaction (Nissi & Lehtinen, 2016, p. 3) – becomes observable whenever two interactants make relevant the fact that they are differently informed about the issue at hand (Sidnell, 2012, p. 302). Both epistemic authority and expert roles can shift from person to person in interaction (De Stefani & Mondada, 2017, p. 98).

Guided by the blind 71 Sensory asymmetry occurs when co-participants do not share the same percep­ tual resources with which to communicate. This is an area that has received less attention in EM/CA research. It involves, for instance, the interaction between hearing and non- or hard-of-hearing people (e.g. Adami & Swanwick, 2019), and between sighted and visually impaired people (see Due, this book). From the perspective of multimodal interaction analysis, sensory asymmetry is all the more interesting because, on one hand, co-participants have unequal access to multimodality (for instance some co-participants cannot hear or not see (all of ) the auditory/visual parts of actions). On the other hand, they have access to some parts of multimodal constructs and embodied, multisensorial interaction (for instance addressing someone in interaction is not a solely visual action of shifting face and gaze towards the listener, but also involves changes in airflow and in audible speech, which takes on different qualities as the face/head changes orien­ tation; see Hirvonen and Schmitt, 2018). In this chapter, asymmetry is defined as a concept that describes situations of unequal access to the shared, not individual parts of the activity. Thus, when I use the term “asymmetric interaction”, I am referring to situations in which co-partic­ ipants have unequal access to the issue that is being cooperatively achieved, such as a medical diagnosis, where the doctor exercises power based on their exper­ tise, but the patient also indispensably contributes via their own understanding of illness (see Raymond, 2014). Similarly, this applies to audio-description work, which requires the use of multiple senses, but visually impaired people are unable to access the visual part of the content. Case and data The case study here concerns professional interaction between visually impaired and sighted team members who carry out collaborative translation processes to produce audio-descriptions, that is verbal translations of visual content in films or TV programmes. These processes were documented in 2016 and 2017 during a research project4 in which data from naturally occurring collaborative audiodescription activities in Austria, Germany, and Finland were collected via video recording. The data analyzed in this chapter stem from the MUTABLE corpus of video-recorded team meetings (in total, approximately 40 hours of data, with recordings of five different teams and nine different work processes; Hirvonen, 2021). From the whole corpus, which includes dyadic, triadic, and multi-party team constellations, I have selected for this chapter a collection of dyadic instances that present typical “visually impaired competences” during a work phase that occurs regularly in the data. This phase consists of identifying and solving formulation problems, in which one of the team members (usually the visually impaired co-participant) highlights a problematic wording in the draft audio-description, and the team sets out to solve the problem through a process of interactive meaning constitution (see Deppermann, 2019). The teams work in direct, face-to-face interaction and use work tools and information technol­ ogy (tables, chairs, laptop and tablet computers, external screens, keyboards,

72

Maija Hirvonen

loudspeakers, the internet). In addition to problem-solving, the team meetings include other work-related activities, such as organizing the facilities and negoti­ ating procedures and strategies. The data excerpts in this chapter illustrate the process of testing and editing audio-description drafts, which involves two main phases: (1) the testing of the AD draft, during which the sighted author reads the script out loud along with the film or TV programme; and (2) the editing of the AD draft, during which (a) the draft is evaluated, reviewed, or proofread; and (b) problematic parts of the draft are discussed and (new) solutions proposed. A common feature among all the teams is that the visually impaired co-author usually guides the editing phase, leading the problem-solving and making decisions, whereas the sighted co-author controls the testing phase by using the computer software (and dividing the source material into scenes). As they are guiding the discussion, the visually impaired co-author is either invited by the sighted author to take the turn after a test sequence, or they take the first turn themselves to raise an issue about the description (see Hirvonen & Schmitt, 2018, p. 452). The ways in which the visually impaired co-author either responds to or self-initiates a problem-solving phase depends on the work organization of 1 and 2 (a+b): the visually impaired co-author responds to problem-solving initiations by the sighted co-author in the scene-by-scene procedure, in which editing occurs after each tested film/pro­ gramme scene, but self-initiates problem-solving in the sequence-opening posi­ tion during the “from beginning to end” procedure, in which the whole film/ programme is tested prior to editing and problem-solving. A typical strategy for noting the problem is a question (see excerpt 4.1), but it can also be an evaluative or reflexive statement about the visually impaired co-author’s experience during the testing phase. In the process of audio-describing, both the visually impaired and sighted co­ authors need to use their multimodal perceptual and communicative competences to, first of all, perceive the audiovisual stimuli of the source material (here, film and TV content) and, second, combine their linguistic and world knowledge with these perceptions to interpret and understand the content and formulate verbal descrip­ tions of the visual aspects (see also Hirvonen, in press). The next section reviews typical ways in which the co-authors’ asymmetry – both sensory and epistemic – supports the joint accomplishment. Analysis Using visual impairment (“not seeing”) to solve problems

This subsection demonstrates how visual impairment is an asset for audio-descrip­ tive teamwork. The two data excerpts show how visually impaired co-authors take part in the multimodal analysis of source material by interpreting multiple modalities. Not only do they analyze and interpret auditory cues from the film (the soundtrack and dialogue), but they also support the sighted co-author in perceiving and interpreting visual content.

Guided by the blind 73 Visual competences: guiding visual perception and analyzing visual information

The visually impaired co-authors display a range of visual competences in the data, including: • Identifying visual elements in the image (e.g. naming items and activities when provided with sufficient information on the visual and narrative characteristics); • Determining visual properties such as saliency and order (see excerpt 4.1); • Associating visual elements with larger entities (e.g. “parts of wholes”); • Specifying visual descriptions (e.g. determining shades of colours); and • Understanding visual and cinematographic narration (e.g. knowledge of videoediting and camera work). Excerpt 4.1 illustrates the visually impaired co-authors’ competence in determining visual salience in the film image. Lara (LA, the visually impaired co-author) chal­ lenges Karl’s (KA, the sighted co-author) description of a scene by querying the order in which the elements in the scene are visually perceived. Through her query, she demonstrates her knowledge of the visual scenes and offers a hypothesis about visual salience. Lara sits on an armchair approximately 1.5 metres away from Karl, who sits at a table holding the work equipment (a computer, external screen, and loudspeaker on which the film is being played; see Figure 4.15). Karl and Lara are revising the candidate descriptions (Hirvonen & Tiittula, 2018). Karl prepared the descriptions and is reading them out loud one by one (lines 16–17). Lara either confirms/accepts each one or highlights a problem. Here, she highlights a problem by interrupting Karl with a question (18–20):

Figure 4.1 Excerpt 4.1: “Does one see first . . .”/CFAD8_73:6 (S1460002_00:01:49-00:02:40) 16 KA

.hh ein blick auf eine siedlung; (.) “A view to a settlement.”

74

Maija Hirvonen

17 18 ka la 19 LA ka

20 KA 21

ka

ka 22 LA la 23 KA 24 25



ka

ka

26 LA la 27 KA 28 29 30

ka

ka

davor ausgebrannte gebäude¿ und eine feuersäule. (.) “In front (of it) gutted buildings,” “and a pillar of fire.” [das ist] “It is. . .” >>looks at Lara--> >>face straight ahead--> [(-) ] sieht man zuerst die ausgebrannten gebäude “Does one see first the gutted buildings” >>looks at film screen--> >weil eigentlich müsste einem die feuersäule irgendwie because actually the pillar of fire should somehow” entgegen strömen< oder? “run towards (oneself), or what?” ja es ist, der blick ist von sekunde (.) “Yes, it’s, the view is from, a second. . .” ++clicks on mouse, then moves hand to keyboard+ der ist von ziemlich weit weg. “It (the view) is from rather far away.” ++taps a key and moves hand to lap+ ah okay. ++nods+ =ah? (.) “Okay?” also du hast dazwischen eine, (.) >eine< ((mumbles)) “So you have in between a a” ++moves hand from lap tw screen and #ebene sozusagen¿ “plain as it were,” makes sliding movements with hand+ #fig4.1 >>glances Lara> mhm¿ ++nods+ dann erkennst du da ein paar gebäuderuinen, “then you recognize there a couple of building ruins,” ++rubs nose with hand+ (1.5) es könnte¿ “it could,” ++leans fw and (1.5)

Guided by the blind 75 31 32 33

es sind am anfang dachte ich das ist eine raffinerie? “they are, first I thought it’s a refinery,” >>looks closely at film screen--> (1.0) aber irgendwie¿ “but somehow,” 34 (2.0) 35 LA mhm; 36 KA sind da noch zwei so so: mm::: so riesige runde silos stehen da rum¿ “there are also two like, like hmm . . . like huge round silos are standing around” 37 LA okay¿

The description candidate “A view to a settlement. In front (of it) gutted buildings and a pillar of fire” (lines 16–17) is problematized with “Does one see first the gutted buildings because actually the pillar of fire should somehow run towards (oneself ), or what?” (19). The “yes/no” question projects a particular epistemic position of “being informed” about the matter (Sidnell, 2012, p. 302). Lara is asking for a confirmation of the visual order of “gutted buildings” and “pillar of fire”, demonstrating knowl­ edge (see Sacks, 1992) and understanding of visual scenes. When she states “pillar of fire should somehow run towards”, she is identifying an aspect that is visually more salient and therefore should be emphasized in an audio-description sentence. The visually impaired co-author is therefore able to lean on general, prototypical knowledge instead of perceiving the various nuances of visual representation that, in a film narrative, may be contrary to prototypical visual order. This epistemic position is displayed by Lara’s formulation of the process of “seeing” with a generalized sub­ ject (“sieht man”, “does one see”, line 19). Lara’s insertion prompts Karl to act on the request immediately: first, while Lara is speaking, by turning his gaze to the external screen on which the film is playing (19), and second, by responding verbally (20–21). As Karl is reviewing the scene, he verbalizes his visual perception as a “free account” (Heritage, 2007) and thereby makes his understanding of the visual scene intersubjectively accountable for the visually impaired co-author. He specifies the scene by listing some characteristic elements in it and also enacts some elements bodily (see Deppermann, 2019, p. 194): “so you have in between a plain as it were . . . there are also like, like two hmm” (24–25, 27, 36), accompanied by illustrative hand movements. Karl then compares the scene to a particular referent and thereby categorizes it (Deppermann, 2019, p. 193): “first I thought it’s a refinery” (31). He also displays the necessity of specifying the description by leaning his body for­ ward and bringing his gaze closer to the screen. While describing, Karl addresses Lara with a glance (25). She participates with verbal feedback and nodding (22, 26) – both of which are also examples of the visually impaired co-authors’ visual interactional competences – but allows Karl to continue and does not take a turn. The “specification work” (or interactive meaning constitution) in the excerpt is a typical practice of audio-description teams, the purpose of which is to establish

76

Maija Hirvonen

common ground for the “verbalization work” or meaning negotiation. This allows the co-participants to arrive at a shared understanding of the meaning in question (whether some filmic action or the meaning of verbal descriptions) and thereby to collaboratively resolve formulation problems – that is to jointly construct verbali­ zations for the meanings. The transcription of the rest of the fragment is omitted here due to space restric­ tions, but it can be reported that the team resolves the problem by retaining the ini­ tial candidate description by Karl (17). After Karl’s various accounts of the scene from different perspectives, Lara explains her problem with the description, which she had previously projected already with her yes/no question in the previously mentioned sequence: she was surprised by the order of the elements in the descrip­ tion, as she would expect “pillar of fire” to be more visually salient than “gutted buildings”. Karl justifies his candidate description by relating it to the visual accu­ racy – the chosen form of verbal description corresponds to the current form of visual representation, in which the view is from a distance, meaning that the fire does not stand out as a salient element. This satisfies Lara. She confirms her agree­ ment with the description, and the team moves on. By her problem initiation, Lara displays epistemic positioning as someone who understands visual order and the circumstances in which visual saliency emerges. She knows that certain elements typically stand out in visual representation (the phenomenon known as “figure-ground segregation” in human sight perception, see Evans, 2010). Furthermore, her initiation guides her sighted co-author towards per­ ceiving and analyzing relevant properties of the visual image. In so doing, the visu­ ally impaired co-author seeks to safeguard “the logic” in the verbal description: the verbalization must be credible and correspond to some established world order.6 Auditory competence: recognizing sounds

Visual impairment can become a competence enhancer during the analysis of audi­ tory information from the source material. In collaborative audio-description, the interpretations and verbalizations of auditory perception are rarely problematized to the same extent as the interpretations and verbalizations of visual perception. The most likely reason for this is that the main task consists of verbally describ­ ing visual images rather than auditory information. Sounds and dialogue may still need to be clarified in order to be referred to, but they are usually rapidly checked and corrected (e.g. the visually impaired co-author identifies an obscure sound or an incorrect verbalization of a sound and suggests correcting it). Problems in the interpretation of auditory perception are typically both initiated and solved by the visually impaired co-author. In excerpt 4.2 (from Hirvonen, in press), the visually impaired co-participant’s expertise in interpreting auditory information is particularly illustrative. In this fragment, Terhi and Päivi are testing the audio-description. Terhi (TE, the sighted co-author) is describing the film while Päivi (PA, the visually impaired co-author) listens to the descriptions and the film, occasionally making notes on a Braille key­ board on her lap. They sit side-by-side at a table, facing a laptop and loudspeakers on which the film is being played (Figure 4.2). As we join them, a longish passage

Guided by the blind 77 of film soundtrack (FS) plays (line 22). Simultaneously, the film shows a flock of birds in the sky in a long shot. Terhi produces a description of the scene over the soundtrack (line 23).

Figure 4.2 Excerpt 4.2: “gulls vs geese”/CFAD2 (S1330004_00:01:26-00:01:54) 22 FS [((birds honking)) ] 23 TE [lintuparvi lentää #taivaan sinessä;] ”A flock of birds is flying in the blue of the sky.” te >>gazes dw towards laptop screen on table--> pa >>gazes straight ahead, eyes flicker occasionally--> #fig4.2 24 FS ((birds honking, musical tones, 5.0)) te >>glances at papers in hand> >>gazes laptop screen--> 25 FS [((birds honking, musical tones))] 26 TE [lokkeja; (.) ”Gulls. te ++nods tw PA+ 27 laurin silmä. ] Lauri’s eye.” pa >>eyes stare straight ahead--> 28 (1.5) ] 29 TE [silmä liikkuu. ] ”The eye moves.” 30 [((swishing sounds, 1.0))] te >>frowns> pa ++moves hands on lap+ 31 FS ((birds honking, musical tones, 2.0)) pa >>eyes flicker--> >>lips move--> 32 PA ((whispers)) °n’on kyllä hanhia; £hmh£° ”they sure are geese.” pa >>smiles-->

78

Maija Hirvonen

33 TE te 34 PA te 35

te 36 TE 37 te 38 PA pa 39 TE 40 PA pa

=£ha£ >>smiles--> ainaki se ääni. ”At least that sound.” --> >>looks at PA--> ++turns tw PA+ (1.0) ++nods+ ((whispers)) °ä-öm hei kiitos.° (0.5) ”Uhm hey thanks.” ne näytti kyl’ lokeilta; ”They sure looked like gulls. >>looks at laptop screen--> ++turns tw laptop screen+ aijaa, “Oh,” ++rubs nose--> no mut täytyy tsekata. "But okay (that) must be checked.” =voi olla. ”Could be.” --> +

After approximately five seconds of listening to the film soundtrack, Terhi pro­ duces a description in overlap with soundtrack (26–27). She utters “gulls” and as she does so, nods towards Päivi. After Terhi’s utterance, a change is observed in Päivi’s behaviour. Her eyes stop flickering and stare ahead. As Terhi continues audio-describing, Päivi moves her fingers on the Braille keyboard to type notes (a swishing sound in line 28 is likely caused by Päivi moving the keyboard). These actions embody a change of state in the visually impaired co-author, from listening to noticing something and, in the current context, projecting trouble (Kendrick & Drew, 2016, p. 11), which is displayed in the sighted co-author’s frown follow­ ing the swishing sound (line 30). Päivi’s lips move very slightly, and she then performs an action that she would normally not do in the testing phase – she com­ ments on the description by reporting a problem in it: “they sure are geese” (line 32). Here, “they” refers to the “gulls” identified previously by Terhi. This report is produced as a whisper and as such does not completely interrupt the current speaker. Päivi finishes her turn with a smiling interjection (line 32). Terhi matches this by responding with a wide smile and a laughter particle (33). Päivi then quali­ fies her claim with an explanation of her interpretation “at least that sound” (34), by which she demonstrates her knowledge (see Sacks, 1992; also Deppermann, 2019, p. 177), based on the audio aspect of the multimodal information (recogni­ tion of bird species by their vocalizations). Terhi acknowledges Päivi’s turn and

Guided by the blind 79 displays her agreement – first non-auditorily, by turning her orientation and nod­ ding towards Päivi, and then verbally (35–36). Terhi assesses Päivi’s proposal as relevant by thanking them for the information. However, she also displays reser­ vation to it by first making known her own interpretation (“they sure looked like gulls”) and then by projecting a future task (“(that) must be checked”). Päivi’s response to Terhi (“could be”) also displays disbelief. In contrast to the visually impaired co-author’s meaning based on auditory per­ ception (“they sure are geese . . . at least that sound”), the sighted co-author justi­ fies her word choice with reference to visual perception (“they sure looked like gulls”). As such, this excerpt allows for an important observation about epistemic negotiation in general (see Sidnell, 2012, p. 305; Raymond & Heritage, 2006), and about the practice of collaborative audio-description in particular. Audio-describ­ ing involves the analysis of multimodal information derived from both visual and auditory channels of perception, and in this fragment of interactive problem-solv­ ing, both channels are made relevant. Nonetheless, as this excerpt shows, the teams sometimes have to negotiate the epistemic value of the information and decide which channel should serve as an epistemic authority. The team does not review the film or use the internet to solve the problem on the spot but moves on with testing the audio-description. However, the problem is brought up again later during the review discussion by Päivi, who says, reading from her notes (the transcript is omitted here due to space restrictions): “then there were those gulls slash geese” (CFAD2_S1330006). This is followed by a discus­ sion that displays the possible audiovisual discrepancy that caused this problem. In fact, the discrepancy had already been accounted for in the first team meet­ ing (excerpt 4.2) by the arguments based on auditory and visual perception. First, Päivi explains her perception: “Well I don’t know what they are in the picture but that sound, that sound belongs to a goose” (line 649). Terhi confirms this. They decide that the description should conserve the reference to “gulls” because the description should verbalize visual information. However, Päivi’s reply (“no can do”) displays an unwillingness to concede and dissatisfaction with the solution. The problem is revisited in the second editing meeting, which takes place several days after the first. On this occasion, the description has changed from “gulls” to “geese”. While testing the revised script, Terhi highlights the change by turning to Päivi and emphasizing the word “geese”: “hanhet lentävät taivaan sinessä” “geese are flying in the blue of the sky” (CFAD2_S1340005). She even pauses the film and adds, with a smiling voice, a chatty accusation “they were geese . . . [you] swindler . . . I didn’t see”. Thus, ultimately, the visually impaired co-author’s inter­ pretation was accepted as the correct one, and this steered – or even changed – how the sighted co-author saw and attended to the film image. Recognizing bird species by sound alone requires specified knowledge that is not intrinsically linked to being visually impaired. Sighted people can also develop a trained ear for particular sounds, but visually impaired people seem to be more attuned to audio stimuli and able to “hear better” (e.g. discriminate sounds) than sighted people (Niemeyer & Starlinger, 1981; Chen et al., 2015). This observation about the value of knowledge to the audio-description process leads me to study a third category of tasks –

80

Maija Hirvonen

namely problem-solving despite visual impairment, based on knowledge of language or the particular activities, sites, objects, etc., depicted in the audiovisual material. Functional and knowledgeable problem-solving despite visual impairment

Aside from the competences in the audio-descriptive teamwork that the visually impaired co-authors possess as a consequence of blindness, they also demonstrate competences that are not an inherent part of being visually impaired but relate to general expert, linguistic, and textual knowledge in the making of audio-descrip­ tions (termed “epistemic competence”), as well as to general interactional com­ petences in the use of visual and embodied resources. Excerpt 4.3 illustrates the former competences. Excerpt 4.4 briefly demonstrates the latter. Epistemic competence: using specified knowledge

In the analyzed data, the blind co-authors typically raise issues concerning the lin­ guistic and stylistic aptness of the descriptions to ensure that the semantic and syntactic realization of the descriptions is understandable and that grammatically and stylistically correct language is used. Another recurrent topic raised by the visually impaired co-authors is cohesion. In the absence of sight, characters and other elements in the visual content must be named consistently, and sounds must be explained if they are not otherwise inferable from the context. Excerpts 1 and 2 highlighted competences related to the use of knowledge of the audiovisual world when solving formulation problems, but in excerpt 4.3, the competences are related to knowledge gained through past experience, learning, or some other means of acquiring specialized knowledge about the activity in question. In excerpt 4.3, Alex (AL, the sighted co-author) and Lars (LA, the visually impaired co-author) are solving a problem raised by Lars about how exactly a certain activity occurs in the programme being audio-described. Prior to this, Alex has described the activity as Wendelin reinigt den Ofen, “Wendelin cleans the oven”. Lars has identified this “cleaning” as problematic by means of an informa­ tion request: “How does he clean the oven?” This request has led Alex to inspect the scene more closely and to describe what he sees or does not see there. The co-authors sit side by side, facing the work equipment on a table in front of them (Figure 4.3). We step into the interaction as Alex’s descriptive work reaches a tran­ sition relevance point (lines 60–61).

Figure 4.3

Guided by the blind 81 Excerpt 4.3: “Stone oven”/CFAD7_45:2 (S1450004_00:03:55-00:04:35) 60 AL 61 al la 62 LA la al

la al 63

la al

64 AL al 65 al 66 AL 67 68 AL

(. . .) die brösel vielleicht ein bisschen wegschiebt oder so; “. . . perhaps shuffles away the breadcrumbs a bit or so” [nicht jetzt mit dem] not with the. . .” ++gestures with hand+ >>looks at Lars--> ++leans fw--> [ist es bei einem ] steinofen nicht sogar so dass ”Isn’t it in a stone oven actually so that” >>face tw Alex--> ++hands on lap--> >>turns face to laptop> man auf diesen steinen selber feuer #gemacht hat? “one has lit on these stones fire himself? ++hands on lips and lap--> #fig4.3 ++hands on keyboard and mouse--> >>looks at video screen--> und das dann, (0.5) die asche und das zeug rauszieht “And that then draws the ashes and the stuff out >>glances up> >>looks back and forth bw video and text screen--> und da das brot hinpackt¿ (0.5) auf die heißen [(.) steine]? ” and stows the bread in there on the hot stones?” [((puffs))] >>rolls eyes> ((click)) >>glances between computer and programme screen--> da müsste ich jetzt hm, ”That I’d need now to, hm,” ((clicking, typing on keyboard, 3.0)) weiß ich nicht (also sie haben nicht) den steinofen erklärt ”dunno, (well, they haven’t) explained the stone oven” [oder von mir aus nicht eingeführt.] “or to my understanding not introduced (it).” [((click, typing))]

82

Maija Hirvonen

69 70 AL 71

72 73

das war jetzt einfach nur, (.) von mir [eine überlegung¿] “That was only simply a thought by me,” [((typing)) ] also so was sehe ich auf jeden fall nicht (.) “Anyway I do not see anything like that,” >also ich sehe nicht dass er da< irgendwie eine glut wegschiebt “I mean I don’t see that he there shoves embers aside somehow” oder so; “or so.” hh °(dann) schaue ich nochmal ein stück zurück,° (Then) I look once again a bit backwards,” ((click))

Alex displays a problem (the uncertainty marker vielleicht, “perhaps” in his description) and shows both verbally and bodily that he is ready to yield the turn to Lars (60–61). Overlapping with Alex’s description work, Lars formu­ lates a negative polar question in a multi-unit turn (“isn’t it with stone ovens so that . . .” 62–63), taking up the referent “stone oven” introduced by Alex in the preceding talk. That the visually impaired Lars knows more of “stone ovens” than the sighted Alex becomes evident by his question, which serves as a definition (Deppermann, 2019, p. 192), framed by functional properties (how stone ovens function). Indeed, Lars now works within the same semantic frame as Alex, who initiated the specification of the “stone oven cleaning” activity with die brösel vielleicht ein bisschen wegschiebt, “perhaps shuffles away the breadcrumbs a bit” (60). Lars replaces “breadcrumbs” with “ashes and the stuff” and “shuffles away” with “draw out” (63). Alex reacts to Lars’s question with an embodied re-orientation to the computer software (Figure 4.3) and, finally, with vocal and embodied actions (a puff and rolling eyes) that indicate being overwhelmed (line 64). He then continues reviewing the scene. Alex verbalizes his uncertainty (“That I’d need now to, hm . . . dunno, (well, they haven’t) explained the stone oven”) and simultaneously starts using the technological tools, clicking on the mouse, typing on the keyboard, and glancing between the video and the internet browser screens (lines 65–73). He also verbal­ izes his looking activity (“anyway I don’t see anything like that . . . then I look a bit backwards”) (71–72), so that the sighted co-author is not only “reading out loud” the descriptions but also “acting out loud” and “seeing out loud”, by accounting for and accommodating the contradiction faced by the sensorily asymmetrical coparticipants in the course of their teamwork. After more searching and describing (omitted here), and due to “not seeing” the activity that was cooperatively framed, Alex cannot confirm that the oven in question corresponds to Lars’s description. Lars then proposes to solve the problem by changing the verb that refers to the action of “oven cleaning”. He

Guided by the blind 83 suggests a more concrete description, er kehrt den ofen aus, “he sweeps the oven clean”, which Alex accepts with a positive assessment “that yes that is probably better than ‘he cleans’ ‘cleans’ is indeed quite generic that’s right”. Lars responds to the assessment by describing his understanding of the element (“it does seem like something brush-like”). Alex confirms Lars’s understanding as “true” rela­ tive to the visual information locally available. Thanks to Lars’s knowledge, the team has been able to specify the visual action and produce a more accurate description. Interactional multisensory competence: using gestures as a meaning-making resource

The last data example illustrates how visually impaired co-authors use gestures and also embodiment in a wider sense as resources for displaying understanding (Verstehensdokumentation, Deppermann & Schmitt, 2008), and how the team uses gestures and other embodied displays in negotiating or co-constructing meaning (e.g. Streeck, 2009). Excerpt 4.4 shows the continuation of excerpt 4.3, in which the visually impaired co-author seeks to confirm his candidate understanding of the description of an object. Excerpt 4.4: “Dough balls”/CFAD7_45:3 (S1450004_00:06:00-00:06:37) 27 AL

28

al la

29

30 LA

31 32

la al

la

la

genau margarete formt teiglinge¿ (0.5) “Right Margarete molds dough pieces.” >>looks at laptop screen--> ++moves hand from chin to lap+ ich glaub’ sie sagen da: sagt die sprecherin “I think they say the narrator says,” dass wir wieder in der backstube sind¿ (.) “that we’re back in the baking room,” oder zumindest nehmen sie bezug darauf dass die selbst backen¿ “or at least they refer to it that they’re baking themselves,” =teiglinge stelle ich mir so: #faustgroß und rund. “Dough pieces I imagine to be like fist-sized and round.” +raises hands++makes >>glances at Lars> #fig4.4.1 (0.5) round forms with vor irgendwie¿ “somehow,” folded palms together+

84

Maija Hirvonen

33 AL 34 LA la 35 AL al la 36 al 37 LA al 38 AL 39

al

40 LA la 41 AL al 42 LA la 43 44 AL

al 45 LA AL al

ja in dem fall sind die größer aber auch rund. “Yes in this case they are bigger but also round.” mhm, +sits with folded palms on his lap+ >>face towards laptop and programme screen> das soll schon so #brotlaibegroße d’raus werden (.) “It should actually become like broad-loaf size,” ++depicts size with folded palms and spread fingers--> >>face towards Alex> #fig4.4.2 so; “like this.” >>glances at Lars> =ja, “Yes,” >>glances at the gesture> was würd’ ich sagen, (.) “What would I say,” >>looks at programme screen> >>looks at Lars--> ein halber handball also schon; (.) oder ein #hand­ ball groß so, “half a handball really, or a handball size like this” #fig4.4.3 #mm¿ +makes round forms with folded palms separately+ >>face towards his palms--> #fig4.4.4 =ja >ja ja ja:< [oh ja] kommen wir hin; ”Yes yes yes yes, oh yes that’s about right.” >>looks at Lars’ gesture> >>looks at laptop> [mhm,] >>face towards laptop> (2.0) also jetzt nicht für für brötchen #[also] semmeln oder so “So now not for for bread rolls I mean bread rolls or so,” ++makes round forms with folded palms and fingertips+ #fig4.4.5 [ja,] sondern für brotlaibe schon aber “but for breadloaves actually.” ++depicts size with spread folded palms+

Guided by the blind 85 46 LA 47 AL 48

=okay ja; ((clears his throat)) dann das nächste ist (.) “Then the next is,” sie streut nüsse und kerne auf einen fladen? “she spreads nuts and kernels on a flatbread,”

Lars nonverbally displays a change of state and an anticipation of trouble (Kend­ rick & Drew, 2016, p. 11) while Alex proofreads the description “Margarete molds dough pieces” (line 27), but waits until a transition-relevant point (line 29) to utter his comment (30). Lars rushes in with his comment, latching with Alex’s turn, and formulates a semantic explicitation (Deppermann & Schmitt, 2008, p. 237) about his mental image of the concept (“Dough pieces I imagine to be like fist-sized and round somehow”), while also producing an embodied display of this, as his palms make a round shape in the air (lines 30–32, Figure 4.4.1). Alex visually notes Lars’s multimodal documentation of understanding (a glance, line 30) and subsequently treats it as a trouble report, as he begins to confirm Lars’s candidate understanding in relation to the programme image (33).

Figure 4.4.1

Figure 4.4.2

86

Maija Hirvonen

Figure 4.4.3

Figure 4.4.4

Figure 4.4.5

Guided by the blind 87 The rest of the transcript (lines 34–41), as well as Figures 4.4.1–4.4.5, shows how the team negotiate the meaning of the word “dough pieces” multimodally, using gestures aligned with verbally formulated specifications as resources. The sighted co-author Alex also turns to the programme image to match his embodied formulation to it (Figure 4.4.2), as if seeking to render the image physi­ cally, via embodiment such that it becomes the visually impaired co-author’s mental image (Figure 4.4.3). Lars invites Alex to comment on his candidate understanding of the size (an embodied formulation, i.e. “form-giving” with hands) via a minimal token and a rising intonation “mm¿” (Figure 4.4.4). Alex confirms (“yes yes yes yes”, line 41) but then adds a change of state token (“oh yes”) and uncertainty mark­ ers (“that’s about right”), which project that the problem of formulating size has not been definitively solved. Indeed, even if Lars acknowledges Alex’s confirmation and does not elaborate or challenge it (line 42), Alex follows up the formulation activity via contrastive differentiation (Deppermann 2007, 2019, p. 191), “not for for bread rolls but or so but for loaves of bread actually” and a depictive hand ges­ ture (44, Figure 4.4.5). Lars gives repeated feedback indicating that he is satisfied with the solution (no change required in the audio-description, as his understanding is good enough) and ready to move on (45, 46). Finally, Alex is also ready and ver­ balizes the transition to the next description to be proofread (47–48). Excerpt 4.4 demonstrates that gestures are not merely visual resources but can be deployed multisensorially in visually asymmetrical interaction and indicates that visually impaired participants can be visually competent interactants in their use. In fact, gestures as Verstehensdokumentation form a recurrent practice in the collaborative audio-description. Furthermore, the excerpt illustrates a key charac­ teristic of interactive meaning constitution: meanings are ad hoc, locally relevant, and may not have an effect outside the situation of production (Deppermann, 2019, p. 172). This can be observed in the mismatch between the initial, individually held lexical meaning of Teiglinge (“dough pieces”) and the cooperatively formulated sense. In other words, the “handball-size” property of the object defined in the joint multimodal formulation is different from the “fist-size” property, corresponding to the mental image evoked in the visually impaired co-author. While this mismatch might have repercussions for the reception of audio-description outside this local context, as other visually impaired recipients leaning on the verbal formulation may imagine the object as larger than it is, the co-authors treat the solution as appropriate enough and continue with proofreading and editing other parts of the audio-description script. Discussion: sensory and epistemic competences in visually impaired-sighted interaction In the translatory practice of collaborative audio-description, sighted and visually impaired co-authors use their senses, bodies, and knowledge for producing joint understanding, in the form of a multimodal analysis of both the source material and an appropriate target text: the audio-description. The data presented and analyzed highlight the versatile competences that the visually impaired co-authors bring to

88

Maija Hirvonen

this teamwork. Not only do they identify translation problems in the draft descrip­ tions, but they also propose informed solutions to the problems. Some of these competences seem to derive from their lack of sight, as the visually impaired team member’s comments and questions guide the sighted member’s vision to relevant aspects in the multimodal film scene, and as they support the interpretation of audi­ tory information, such as the film soundtrack. Other competences are not bound up with being visually impaired but are general epistemic and sensory competencies that could be possessed by any co-participant (e.g. general knowledge, gestures as displaying understanding). While epistemic asymmetry and epistemic positioning are typically dealt with en passant in social interaction, in the midst of the other activities of daily life (Sidnell, 2012, p. 303), in the professional interaction discussed in this chapter, epistemic positioning is the topic of or reason for the interaction. The whole point of the co-authors acting together is to balance epistemics, with the aim of reach­ ing a shared understanding and collectively acceptable knowledge. Epistemic negotiations between varied physical/sensory access, as well as different stances and interpretations of states of affairs, are a concrete task in the work activity. In the sensory asymmetric interaction described here, the visually impaired co­ author has auditory access, while the sighted co-author has audiovisual access to the source material and part of interaction (speech, sound). Both employ embod­ ied resources for interaction (gaze, gesture), but they have unequal access to these resources. The analysis demonstrates that access to knowledge – know­ ing about things in the world – is multimodal and (therefore) negotiable. Epis­ temic rights are socially distributed (Raymond & Heritage, 2006) – and as such are not necessarily based on sole physical or “objective” access to the state of affairs – and presuppose joint but not necessarily equivalent access to the issue at hand (see also Sidnell, 2012, p. 305). This leads to epistemic negotiations aimed at determining “who knows best/better” (Raymond & Heritage, 2006; Sidnell, 2012, p. 305). In the case analyzed here, vision is an interactional accomplishment to which visually impaired people also contribute, often with authority, such that they are able to guide the visual analysis. Different dimensions of audiovisual meaning-making and processes of looking and seeing – perception, analysis, interpretation – emerge and are negotiated in this type of social interaction. The analyzed data show that visually impaired co-participants understand visual material based on their knowl­ edge of the world and on the multimodal interaction with the sighted co-participant. These cooperative accomplishments require a shared understanding based on dis­ tributed perception (see Due, 2021) and socially distributed cognition (Korhonen & Hirvonen, 2021). In other words, two or more subjects perceive and process (mul­ timodal) information, and they formulate joint knowledge based on individual and intersubjectively shared interpretations, in the form of the resulting agreed transla­ tion or verbalization. Overall, the study of “doing seeing” in the absence of sight is a novel perspective in vision studies (Gibson & vom Lehn, 2020), and the study of visually impaired-sighted interaction can reveal, for instance how visual impair­ ment “instructs” vision (see Tuncer & Haddington, 2019), and how vision and

Guided by the blind 89 visual information and knowledge are made multimodally accessible, enactable, and negotiable. It remains to be studied how the findings about the sensory and epistemic asymmetry of competences appear in other forms of asymmetric and atypical interaction. Although the notions of “asymmetry” and “atypicality” are often considered inhibitory factors in interaction, there is growing interest in the successful management of asymmetric/atypical interaction and in the particular competences residing in differently abled people (e.g. “autistic intelligence”, Maynard, 2005; and “blindness as resource”, Hirvonen & Schmitt, 2018). These findings align with a recent development in dis/ability studies: the reconceptualization of impairment as a resource, rather than an obstacle, both in everyday life and in work practices (Waldschmidt, 2017). One key area of study therefore looks at the kinds of professional and everyday competences with which visually impaired co-participants contribute to different contexts of social interaction, and to specific tasks that profit from asymmetry, like the one presented here. Notes 1 The author wishes to thank Arnulf Deppermann and Katariina Harjunpää for insightful data sessions and Magdalène Lévy-Tödter for inspirational reading and correspondence while preparing this manuscript. The author is indebted to the research participants and contact persons, her research assistants and, finally, the Academy of Finland for the research funding (grant # 295104). 2 The term “co-author” is used here to denote the cooperative nature of the teamwork and authorship in team audio-description. The term is inspired by the research subjects’ own role descriptions, as voiced in the interviews during data collection (see Hirvonen et al. 2023). The subjects use varied terminology to describe the roles of the visually impaired and sighted co-participants. In the German-speaking discourse, co-participant may use, i.a. “author” to refer to the sighted participant, while “co-author” is used about the visually impaired participant. In the Finnish discourse, the term for the visually impaired team member is “audio-description consultant”, while the sighted one is “audiodescriber”. Nonetheless, this chapter deploys the term “co-author” for both participants, as it echoes the EM/CA term “co-participant” (meaning “simultaneously present and constituting the action”) and assigns authorship to both sighted and visually impaired team members. 3 In translation studies, which is the “home discipline” for the study of audio-description, the concept of “competence” is actively researched, but not from an EM/CA perspective. Using psychological and psycholinguistic methodologies, the aim is to define the specific competences that (professional) translators and interpreters have (or should have), such as linguistic, cultural, and subject-expert competences (e.g. Shreve, Angelone & Lacruz, 2017). 4 MUTABLE (Multimodal Translation with the Blind, Academy of Finland, grant # 295104). 5 A second camera view was used in the data analysis, which also allowed Lara to be observed from the side. 6 In a discussion in which the author played this excerpt to the research subjects (“Lara” and “Karl”) as part of a training event, the co-authors voiced an alternative interpretation of the problem – the original description was questionable because of the mismatch in indexical logic of cause and effect (the “gutted buildings” as consequence of “the pillar of fire”).

90

Maija Hirvonen

References Adami, E., & Swanwick, R. (2019). Signs of understanding and turns-as-actions: A multimodal analysis of deaf–hearing interaction. Visual Communication. https://doi-org.lib­ proxy.tuni.fi/10.1177/1470357219854776. Benecke, B. (2014). Audiodeskription. Modell und Methode. Münster: LIT Verlag. Chen, M.-S., Liu, J.-S., & Chen, W.-R. (2015). Differences in auditory discrimination ability between visually impaired and normally sighted adults. Journal of Industrial and Produc­ tion Engineering, 32(4), 255–262. Deppermann, A. (2007). Grammatik und Semantik aus gesprächsanalytischer Sicht. Berlin: de Gruyter. Deppermann, A. (2019). Interaktionale Semantik. In J. Hagemann & S. Staffeldt (Eds.), Semantiktheorien II: Analysen von Wort- und Satzbedeutungen im Vergleich. Tübingen: Stauffenburg. Deppermann, A., & Schmitt, R. (2008). Verstehensdokumentationen: Zur Phänomenologie von Verstehen in der Interaktion. Deutsche Sprache, 36(3), 220–245. De Stefani, E., & Mondada, L. (2017). Who’s the expert? Negotiating competence and authority in guided tours. In D. Van De Mieroop & S. Schnurr (Eds.), Identity Struggles: Evidence from Workplaces around the World (pp. 95–124). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Due, B. L. (2021). Distributed perception: Co-operation between sense-able, actionable, and accountable semiotic agents. Symbolic Interaction, 44(1), 134–162. Enfield, N. J. (2011). Sources of asymmetry in human interaction: Enchrony, status, knowl­ edge and agency. In T. Stivers, L. Mondada & J. Steensig (Eds.), The Morality of Knowl­ edge in Conversation (pp. 285–312). New York: Cambridge University Press. Evans, V. (2010). The perceptual basis of spatial representation. In V. Evans & P. Chil­ ton (Eds.), Language, Cognition and Space: The State of the Art and New Directions (pp. 21–48). London/Oakville: Equinox. Gibson, W., & vom Lehn, D. (2020). Seeing as accountable action: The interactional accom­ plishment of sensorial work. Current Sociology, 68(1), 77–96. Heritage, J. (2007). Cognition in discourse. In H. te Molder & J. Potter (Eds.), Conversation and Cognition (pp. 184–202). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hirvonen, M. (2021). Multimodal Translation with the Blind [corpus]. Retrieved from http:// urn.fi/urn:nbn:fi:lb-2021042021 Hirvonen, M. (in press). Shared cognition in translation: Information processing and mean­ ing production as joint accomplishments. Translation Studies. Hirvonen, M., Hakola, M., & Klade, M. (2023). Co-translation, consultancy and joint authorship: User-centred translation and editing in collaborative audio description (“Uni­ versalist, user-centred, and proactive approaches in media accessibility”, ed. by Gian Maria Greco & Pablo Romero-Fresco). Special Issue of Journal of Specialised Transla­ tion, 39, 26–51. Hirvonen, M., & Schmitt, R. (2018). Blindheit als Ressource: Zur professionellen Kompe­ tenz eines blinden Teammitglieds bei der gemeinsamen Anfertigung einer Audiodeskrip­ tion. Gesprächsforschung, 19, 449–477. Hirvonen, M., & Tiittula, L. (2018). How are translations created? Analysis of multimodal interaction as a methodology to study a team translation process (“Methods for the Study of Multimodality in Translation”, ed. by C. Jiménez Hurtado, T. Tuominen & A. Ketola). Special Issue of Linguistica Antverpiensia, 17, 157–173. Hymes, D. (1971). Competence and performance in linguistic theory. In R. Huxley & E. Ingram (Eds.), Language Acquisition: Models and Methods (pp. 3–28). London: Aca­ demic Press.

Guided by the blind 91 Kendrick, K. H., & Drew, P. (2016). Recruitment: Offers, requests, and the organization of assistance in interaction. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 49(1), 1–19. Korhonen, A., & Hirvonen, M. (2021). Joint creative process in translation: Socially distrib­ uted cognition in two production contexts. Cognitive Linguistic Studies, 8(2), 251–276. Maynard, D. W. (2005). Social actions, gestalt coherence, and designations of disability: Lessons from and about autism. Social Problems, 52(4), 499–524. Niemeyer, W., & Starlinger, I. (1981). Do the blind hear better? Investigations on audi­ tory processing in congenital or early acquired blindness II. Central functions. Audiology, 20(6), 510–515. Nissi, R., & Lehtinen, E. (2016). Negotiation of expertise and multifunctionality: PowerPoint presentations as interactional activity types in workplace meetings. Language & Communication, 48, 1–17. O’Brien, S. (2011). Collaborative translation. In Y. Gambier & L. van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of Translation Studies, Volume 2 (pp. 17–20). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Okada, M. (2013). Embodied interactional competence in boxing practice: Coparticipants’ joint accomplishment of a teaching and learning activity. Language & Communication, 33, 390–403. Raymond, C. W. (2014). Epistemic brokering in the interpreter-mediated medical visit: negotiating “patient’s side” and “doctor’s side” knowledge. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 47(4), 426–446. Raymond, G., & Heritage, J. (2006). The epistemics of social relationships: Owning grand­ children. Language in Society, 35(5), 677–705. Sacks, H. (1992). Lectures on Conversation (Vol. 1). Oxford: Blackwell. Schruhl, S. (2021). Audiodeskription in der Praxis: Bericht einer blinden Rezipientin und Hörfilmautorin. In C. Maaß & I. Rink (Eds.), Handbuch Barrierefreie Kommunikation (pp. 771–780). Berlin: Frank & Timme. Sharrock, W. (1974). On owning knowledge. In R. Turner (Ed.), Ethnomethodology: Selected Readings (pp. 45–53). Harmondsworth: Penguin. Shreve, G. M., Angelone, E., & Lacruz, I. (2017). Are expertise and translation competence the same? Psychological reality and the theoretical status of competence. In I. Lacruz & R. Jääskeläinen (eds.), Innovation and Expansion in Translation Process Research (pp. 37–54). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Sidnell, J. (2012). “Who knows best?” Evidentiality and epistemic asymmetry in conversa­ tion. Pragmatics and Society, 3(2), 294–320. Stivers, T., Mondada, L., & Steensig, J. (2011). Knowledge, morality and affiliation in inter­ action. In T. Stivers, L. Mondada, & J. Steensig (Eds.), The Morality of Knowledge in Conversation (pp. 3–24). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Streeck, J. (2009). Gesturecraft. The Manu-facture of Meaning. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Taylor, C., & Perego, E., (2022). The Routledge Handbook of Audio Description. Milton: Taylor and Francis. Tuncer, S., & Haddington, P. (2019). Looking at and seeing objects: Instructed vision and collaboration in the laboratory. Gesprächsforschung, 20, 435–360. Waldschmidt, A. (2017). Disability goes cultural: The cultural model of disability as an ana­ lytical tool. In A. Waldschmidt, H. Berressem, & M. Ingwersen (Eds.), Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies (pp. 19–27). Bielefeld: Transcript.

5

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field Utilizing the affordances of an object Louise Lüchow

Introduction The almost unfathomable question of how people are able to co-create meaning, ascribe and format talk and action, and constitute joint understanding, even on highly specific or abstract topics, has been meticulously scrutinized within the field of EM/CA for over half a decade. Herein, talk and action are viewed as being both indexical, as they are shaped by previous actions and contextual background, and reflexive, in the sense that they constitute the current context and inform the tra­ jectory of the participants’ future actions (Heritage, 2013). As such, from an EM/ CA perspective, meaning is a collaborative achievement, shaped by the speaker’s formation and the recipient’s ascription of action, in which the subsequent turn of action determines the current one. Applied to multimodal practices for social inter­ action, including embodied and material resources (Goodwin, 1979), this next-turn proof procedure relies on the participants’ ability to monitor each other’s actions in order to accommodate future actions accordingly within the situated context. Although monitoring is multisensorial, in the sense that we perceive our surround­ ings via our five senses (see, hear, feel, smell, and touch), the vast majority of EM/ CA studies involving “other-monitoring” (Goodwin, 1980) are centred on the vis­ ual perception of non-verbal actions. The focus on perception as primarily visual, albeit multimodally achieved, aligns with the ocularcentric norm, in which sight performs a pivotal function in social interaction. The members’ visual orientation therefore makes it very difficult to study how other senses interactionally contrib­ ute, as they are rarely accounted for in a non-visual manner. However, studying how visually impaired people interact with seeing acquaintances gives us a unique opportunity to explore the otherwise (understandably) underexposed but account­ able nature of non-visual perception, and how it influences action-formation and the collaborative achievement of intersubjectivity. Presumably the most obvious challenge in social interaction without a shared perceptual field is the lack of the ability to track and decode co-participants’ embod­ ied interactional cues and displays of understanding (Mondada, 2011). This lack of transparency has been investigated based on, for example video-mediated interac­ tion (Due & Lange, 2020), in which the medium’s limited perspective becomes a restraining factor for transparent interaction. However, there has been little research DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-5

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 93 into interaction between participants who do not possess the sensorial ability to achieve a mutual visual field (Goodwin, 2003), such as visually impaired persons (VIPs) in co-present interaction with seeing co-participants (Due, 2021; Due & Lange, 2019; Reyes-Cruz et al., 2020). This chapter therefore studies how VIPs’ actions and other-monitoring practices unfold in co-present face-to-face settings. Naturally, looking at what others are looking at (Stukenbrock, 2020), perform­ ing a correctly temporally designed, interlocutor-oriented speaker gaze (Rossano, 2010), or adjusting the organization of gestures with respect to the co-participants’ embodied activities (Hindmarsh & Heath, 2000) is simply not possible (at least from an ocularcentric perspective) in the absence of sight. It is, of course, possible for VIPs to learn to perform recipient design and employ gestural actions directed towards seeing co-participants and their visual perception. However, the visual monitoring of recipients’ visibly displayed understanding (Mondada, 2011) can­ not be taught. The inability to visually pick up on embodied cues means that VIPs must instead rely on audible or tactile responses to adjust their talk and gestural activities towards the recipients’ orientation. As gaze and embodied resources can preface or even substitute for verbal responses, the temporality of adapting to the co-participants’ orientation can easily become incongruent and prolonged. In that sense, VIPs’ audible perceiving of the others’ perception (Hausendorf, 2003) and their visually oriented recipient-designed actions in pursuit of achieving intersubjectivity (in this study, during a debriefing) are what Harold Garfinkel calls a “perspicuous case” (2002). In other words, studying VIPs’ actions may help us to shed light on the otherwise unnoticed actions of both visually impaired and sighted people. This chapter focuses on how the VIP, with no visual perception, employs actions that are recipient-designed (Sacks et al., 1974) for his seeing co-participants, for the specific purpose of addressing their visual perception. The actions are recipi­ ent-designed through the utilization of the affordances (Hutchby, 2001) of an avail­ able material object, which functions as a mutual referent that frames the ongoing situational activity. The analyses unfold the sequential organization of the VIP’s use of the object, as well as the seeing co-participants’ accordingly exhibited understanding (Sacks, 1992) of the VIP’s visual display. For analytical purposes, the object-centred explanation sequence has been divided into three categories, as presented in the following excerpts: (1) initiating the relevance of the laptop lid; (2) utilizing the laptop lid; and (3) marking the closing of the sequence and end­ ing the relevance of the laptop lid. In this way, the analyses show how participants with divergent sensorial perception cooperatively achieve a mutual perceptual field (Merleau-Ponty, 2013 [1945]) and intersubjectivity. Inspired by Luff et al., I refer to the participants’ sensorially asymmetric perceptual field as “fractured”. The excerpts demonstrate an attempt to adapt to the visual perception of the see­ ing co-participants. The VIP was born blind and has no visual competences, so these visually oriented practices must be considered somewhat deliberate, in line with Garfinkel’s findings of a “heightened awareness” of the dynamics underlying interaction (cf. Rawls & Duck, 2020). In his early years, Garfinkel studied how people, through assigned categories and labels (e.g. race, religion, and gender) are

94

Louise Lüchow

disenfranchised during social interaction and how people in asymmetrical posi­ tions have “extra difficulty achieving mutual intelligibility in interaction” (ibid.: 7). Therefore, to achieve intersubjectivity, people who are not categorized or labelled as “normal” develop a heightened awareness of otherwise taken-for-granted social practices. The study of social interaction with VIPs functions on the basis of what Garfinkel would describe as natural experiments, in the sense that the participants possess an extra degree of awareness of how intelligibility is achieved in social interaction. However, the VIPs’ asymmetric position in interaction stems not only from their societal categorization as impaired, but also from a practical aspect – namely their physical lack of visual capacity and their inability to visually orient. Hence, as natural experiments, studies of VIPs in social interaction bring to the fore a plethora of non-visual practices, as well as the significance of gaze and visual other-monitoring in achieving mutual intersubjectivity. This chapter studies the multimodal accomplishment of intersubjectivity in a fractured perceptual field, thereby contributing to the extensive studies related to recipient design and objects in interaction within EM/CA, by adding novel insights to the multitude of ways in which participants design talk that displays an orienta­ tion towards their co-participants (Sacks et al., 1974). The reciprocity of recipient design, displays of understandings, and other-monitoring: a review The concept of “recipient design” refers to the basic assumption within EM/CA that speakers construct, and continuously adjust, their turns of talk and action accord­ ing to their presumption of the recipients’ knowledge and the given situational activity. The term originates from the early days of classic CA and is described by Sacks et al. (1974) as the “multitude of respects in which the talk by a party in a conversation is constructed or designed in ways which display an orientation and sensitivity to the particular other(s) who are the co-participants” (Sacks et al., 1974: 727). Recipient-designed actions, then, are understood as a basic aspect of social interaction and a premise for the turn-taking system – in other words, speakers fit their turns of talk and action to their recipients via other-monitoring practices (Goodwin, 1980). Vice versa, recipients produce concurrent displays that exhibit understanding (Hindmarsh et al., 2011) through verbal, embodied, and material practices, which also constitute their role as recipients (Goodwin, 2006). Recipient design often functions as an analytical “background understanding” in studies that focus on the various modalities in which speakers tailor their actions in situ, based on their former experience and increasing knowledge of the recipient. EM/CA studies tend to share a common interest in the reciprocity between recipientdesigned action, recipient displays of understanding, and other-monitoring. Of particular relevance to this study are the studies of gaze behaviour (e.g. Ros­ sano, 2012; Rossano et al., 2009), which show how participants apply social rules of gaze during turns of talk; as well as prosody and phonetics (e.g. CouperKuhlen & Ford, 2004; Couper-Kuhlen, 2012), deixis (e.g. Stukenbrock, 2020; Mondada, 2012), embodied gestures (e.g. Streeck, 2009; Goodwin, 2000, 2003),

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 95 and objects in interaction (Tuncer & Haddington, 2020). All these studies inves­ tigate the unfolding of the structure of talk and action, which is entrenched in the reciprocity of the members orienting towards each other and negotiating their respective roles as speaker and recipient. Arnulf Deppermann (2015) describes recipient design and its essential role in “building bridges” between intersubjec­ tivity as the individual a priori and intersubjectivity as a collaborative practical accomplishment. It is from the sequential negotiation and tailoring of interac­ tional actions that the participants’ common ground arises, and the interaction progresses. Thus, the interplay between recipient-designed actions and recipient displays is, as Deppermann put it, “intrinsically intertwined with intersubjectivity” (Deppermann, 2015: 66) in the negotiation and constitution of the discursive roles as speaker and recipient. Furthermore, it is this interplay that constitutes action formation and the participants’ ability to alter the current speaker’s turn trajectory (Ford & Stickle, 2012; Goodwin, 1979). However, the members’ competency requires the monitoring of emerging and transitioning reception of their talk via recipients’ displays of understand­ ing, whether verbally (Schegloff, 1982; Jefferson, 1984), embodied, or materially exhibited (Day & Wagner, 2014). From a members’ perspective, and thus within EM/CA research, the visuality of perceiving others’ actions is a taken-for-granted, primarily visual sensorial resource. Without the visual sense, the seeing recipi­ ents’ embodied cues, which often preface or even substitute verbal displays, go unnoticed. As such, when a speaker lacks the visual sense, the ongoing collabora­ tive tailoring of recipient design, and ultimately the accomplishing of intersub­ jectivity, requires additional interactional efforts on the part of both the visually impaired speaker and the seeing recipient. On the seeing recipient’s part, such efforts entail intensified cues in demonstrating recipiency, with an emphasis on audible and haptic displays that are detectable by the visually impaired speaker. One could describe this as a particular kind of “recipient proactivity” (Kidwell, 1997), in which recipients state their knowledge to assert their contextual par­ ticipation status as recipients. As for the visually impaired speaker, the need for an additional interactional effort to accommodate and manoeuvre in response to the recipients’ understanding is an inherent premise for interaction. The current study shows how one effort to produce actions and turns, which is specifically designed for seeing participants in particular sequential positions, involves an orientation towards the seeing participants’ visual perception. The proactive inter­ actional means to design turns of talk and action become apparent, as the visually impaired speaker employs the affordances of an object in addressing the recipi­ ents’ visual perception, even though they do not share their visual perception. As such, the object becomes central as a mutual referential field (Goodwin, 2003) in the speaker’s effort to fit his actions to the recipients’ visual perception. In that sense, the object functions as a mediating resource in the participants’ otherwise fractured perceptual field. The presented excerpts are therefore highly object-centred (Tuncer et al., 2019) in their sequential unfolding. The VIP speaker makes the object – a laptop lid – explicitly relevant, in both verbal and embodied ways, as a mutual referent and

96

Louise Lüchow

centre of attention. As such, the focus of the analyses is on the sequential position­ ing of the deployment of the object as interactional resource during the overall activity of explaining. Method, data, and setting The data presented in this chapter originate from a medium-sized Danish software company. A software developer who was born blind was observed for three days during January 2020. The overall purpose of the study is to explore how VIPs use technology at work and how technology can (or cannot) contribute to social inclusion. This generated approximately eight hours of video recordings of various everyday interactions, both mundane and institutional, throughout the open-plan office, at employees’ desks, and during closed meetings. The example analyzed next consists of three excerpts from a 1.5-hour debriefing, which the participants called a “code meeting”. The attendees comprise the general manager (MAN), the department’s software developer (PAR), and another co-worker (programmer, COW). The purpose of the meeting is to brief the other participants on PAR’s latest coding. As a competent employee and epistemic authority (Heritage, 2013) at the workplace, PAR is oriented towards passing on a representation of his non-visual perception of the organization of a particular digital setup, for the purpose of instruct­ ing his less experienced co-participants. This process entails a calibration of the par­ ticipants’ perception (Goodwin, 1994; Goodwin & Smith, 2020), which due to PAR’s visual impairment, requires extraordinary interactional work. This setting is considered particularly interesting, as it shows how, despite PAR’s lack of visual perception, the participants succeed in their aim by deploying various embodied and material resources. Video cameras were strategically placed to track the coordination and unfold­ ing of each participant’s embodied orientation, gaze, and use of material resources from multiple angles (Figure 5.1). The recordings were subsequently transcribed using Lorenza Mondada’s (2014) conventions for gaze and embodied actions, and the talk was transcribed according to Gail Jefferson’s conventions for conversation analysis (Jefferson, 2004). Through the 1.5-hour debriefing, it is notable how, during the interaction, PAR ori­ ents towards his co-workers’ visual sense. This is done by depicting diagrams on the outside lid of his laptop while explaining a specific digital setup. Furthermore, even though the content of the laptop screen is projected onto a large screen on the end wall, PAR chooses to physically outline the setup, which enables him to achieve an embod­ ied perception of the joint attention towards a physical and tactile object, that is the laptop lid. So how does the utilizing of the laptop lid sequentially unfold? The follow­ ing analyses will focus on the sequential organization of the participants’ employed multimodal resources in (1) initiating the relevance of the laptop lid; (2) utilizing the laptop lid; and finally (3) marking the closing of the explanation sequence and ending the relevance of the laptop lid. PAR was born blind and has no visual perception or visual competences, so it is presumed that his ability to orient towards visual norms is an acquired strategy in “doing being” a competent member of an ocular-centric world (Workman, 2016), or what one might consider as being socially competent.

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 97

Figure 5.1 Visual overview of the participants’ positions and camera setup in the meeting room. MAN and COW stand in front of PAR, on the opposite side of the table. Five cameras are placed in the room, one at the end of the table directed towards the monitor on the end wall, two in the corners at the other end of the table, one recording PAR’s laptop screen, and one placed on top of the monitor.

Analysis Initiating the relevance of the laptop lid: achieving joint attention

This first excerpt shows how the visually impaired participant, PAR, sequentially achieves joint attention by opening his laptop, thus initiating the lid as a relevant resource in the ongoing interaction. Taking advantage of the laptop’s affordance as a “canvas”, PAR initiates an explanation of a software system, attracting the gaze of his seeing co-workers, and thereby addressing their visual perception. As shown in the following, PAR succeeds in obtaining the visual attention of his coparticipants by employing both embodied and material resources. As such, rather than being the one in need of inclusion into the seeing world, PAR becomes the inclusive party, sharing his knowledge by mediating his non-visual perception via the laptop lid. Excerpt 5.1 1

2

PAR: man: cow:

>ja altså det kan være et specifikt filter< yes well it can be a specific filter >>par >>table .h (.) +ø::::h#+ e::::h

98

Louise Lüchow man:



fig:

Figure 1 3

MAN:

4 cow: 5

fig: PAR:

6

MAN: man:

7

PAR:

8

MAN:

9

PAR:

10

fig: MAN:

>>back wall screen +Rh on laptop lid+ fig#1

Figure 2

Figure 3

Figure 4

og det så den det så det filter and that’s the it’s that filter +man# gerne vil stoppe ind i det pågældende you want to put into the concerned >>laptop lid +pointing at lid–>5 fig#2 jaer+ yeah indeks de:r +#eller hva+ index there or what >>laptop lid +Rh indexf tw lids bottom left+ fig#3 det du gerne vil what you want ja yes +hvis du har du *har# dit indeks hero:p if you have you have your index up here +index F sketching and tapping on lid–>> *turns body tw lid–>10 fig#4 jae#* yes

This excerpt begins in medias res with PAR responding to a question regarding the topic of conversation, the software system (line 1), “. . . it can be a specific filter”, followed by an in-breath, a short pause, and a hesitating “e::::h”, initiating continua­ tion of the current turn of talk while opening his laptop (line 2, Figure 1). However, MAN takes a turn and continues PAR’s explanation, beginning with an “and” (line 3), suggesting the same epistemic level as PAR but seeking validation by transforming the turn into an invitation to continue with a final tag “or what” (line 6). At the same time, MAN turns his gaze from the screen on the end wall towards PAR’s pointing index finger (line 4–6) on the laptop lid (Figure 3), as PAR prefaces an embodied demonstration (Nishizaka, 2017) of the digital setup. PAR then verbally prefaces his explanation (line 7) before outlining a specific scenario, “if you have your index up here”, accompanied with depicting and tapping on the lid (line 9).

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 99 Although COW neither takes a turn nor verbally responds during this sequence, the sequential organization of his embodied orientation is fully aligned with PAR’s embodied and visual display of demonstration. When PAR opens his laptop lid during MAN’s turn of talk, COW immediately turns his gaze from the table towards PAR’s pointing (line 4, Figure 2). As PAR moves his index finger across the lid, COW con­ tinually focuses on the lid. Although PAR cannot see for himself, the opening of the laptop lid is followed by overall joint attention towards the lid in the prefacing of PAR’s depiction. Furthermore, as he points at the lid during MAN’s turn (line 4), he provides the recipients with a specific resource towards which they orient their gaze. When PAR proceeds with the actual depicting (line 9), COW turns his whole upper body towards PAR, displaying his full attention towards the anticipated demonstrating depiction, thereby adopting a position for perception (Goodwin, 2017) (Figure 4). In the subse­ quent interaction, MAN does not change his embodied position towards the screen on the end wall, but his gaze remains focused on the laptop lid. As such, both COW and MAN orient towards the lid as the relevant centre of their visual attention. PAR has now established joint attention and is directing the attention of his co-participants, their gaze, and their embodied positioning, even though he does not share their visual perception. Summary of analysis

The analysis demonstrates how PAR attracts and obtains joint attention by orient­ ing towards the recipients’ visual perception via the use of material resources – in this case, a laptop lid. The opening of the laptop is used to establish a mutual refer­ ent and achieve joint attention towards the laptop lid, prefacing further demonstrat­ ing. As PAR cannot see the co-participants’ orientation towards the lid, one must assume that this is an intended action. The opening initiates the lid’s relevancy in the establishment of participant framework and in constituting a mutual “visual” field and centre of attention. The subsequent pointing seemingly attracts COW’s fully embodied attention, as he adopts a position better suited to perception. Although PAR cannot see that his co-participants are visually oriented towards the laptop lid (line 6) when positioning his hand (line 2) and pointing (line 4), it only takes a tag question from MAN for him to continue his turn and visual prac­ tices. Thus, PAR treats the smallest of verbal tokens as sufficient proof that joint attention has been achieved and that he can proceed with the turn by verbally elab­ orating and depicting on the lid. Despite the inability to visually monitor the coparticipants’ embodied recipient displays, PAR seemingly succeeds in initiating a demonstration by deploying embodied and material modalities (Nishizaka, 2000). Utilizing the laptop lid: depiction

As the participant framework (Goffman, 1974) is now established and the visual atten­ tion of the seeing recipients has been co-operatively achieved through the affordances of the laptop lid, PAR resumes his explanation of the software system. In his efforts to address his co-workers’ visual perception, he employs embodied, tactile, and material resources by outlining his representation of the organization of the software system.

100

Louise Lüchow

This analysis examines how the accommodative actions, the utilizing, and the recipients’ orientation towards the laptop lid sequentially unfold in a way that con­ tributes to the seeing co-participants’ inclusion into PAR’s tactile perception of a specific digital setup. For this purpose, the pictures in this excerpt are accompanied by a stylized overview of the laptop lid, showing what is being outlined, moment­ by-moment. The transcript also includes extra lines describing the movements of PAR’s index finger (%). The following excerpt begins after PAR makes clear that he is in fact drawing, “I hope you can see that I am drawing” (line 10–13, omitted), thereby emphasiz­ ing and accounting for the gestural practice oriented towards his seeing co-partic­ ipants. Both co-participants are minimally aligned and so are considered verbally accepting their discursive roles as engaged recipients. Excerpt 5.2 14

PAR:

15

man: cow: MAN:

16

fig: PAR:

17

fig: MAN:



fig:

Figure 7.1

%(.)%[vi har] %indeks o:p i toppen% we have index at the top %tap% %zigzag Line% >>laptop lid >>laptop lid +ja #%(0.3)%Δ%(0.5)#%+ Yes %tap% %tap% +face down–----------+ Δscratch forehead–>16 fig#7 fig#8 +↑indekset besthår %af en#%+ %nogen% vattings↑Δ the index consists of a some vattings %curvedL% %circle% +lifts head to upright pos + fig#9 %(.)ja%# yes %tap tap tap% fig#10

Figure 7.2

Figure 7.3

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 101

Figure 8.1

Figure 8.2

Figure 8.3

Figure 9.1

Figure 9.2

Figure 9.3

Figure 10.1

Figure 10.2

Figure 10.3

18

PAR:

19

MAN:

20

fig: PAR:

21 22

23

man: fig:

fig:

man: fig: MAN:

%og en% ↓setti:ngs %(.)%[objekt] and a settings object %straightL% %tap tap tap% [ja]# yes fig#11 >%og inde% i %settings#objekt%< and inside settings object %tap tap% %zigzagL–---% >>from lid to table fig#12 der sætter man an-%(.)% %analysis%# you place ananalysis %tap% %zigzagL-% fig#13 %og så sætter man% sit %analyse%navn# and then you place your analysis name %tap tap tap tap % %tap tap% >>tw lid fig#14 ja yes

102

Louise Lüchow

Figure 11.1

Figure 11.2

Figure 11.3

Figure 12.1

Figure 12.2

Figure 12.3

Figure 13.1

Figure 13.2

Figure 13.3

Figure 14.1

Figure 14.2

Figure 14.3

With gestural pointing and an audible tap, PAR verbally and physically describes the digital setup. He precedes this by stating “we have the index up here”, while zigzagging in the lower-left corner of his laptop lid (Figure 7). The deictic “up here” identifies the zigzagging gestures as marking the “index’s” physical placement in PAR’s representation. MAN immediately aligns (line 15), focusing his gaze at PAR’s depiction, even as he maintains his embodied position towards COW. The minimal response is followed by a verbal pause (0.8 sec) in which PAR makes two audible taps, indexically marking the end of his first turn unit of listing the content. The first tap in line 14 and the two in line 15 seemingly delimit the verbal and depicted content in line 14, in a visual, tactile, and audible way. As such, the taps function as attention-directing devices that precede the verbal deictics (Povinelli & Davis, 1994). The content itself, the “index”, is marked by drawing a zigzag line, placed “in the top”, but physically marked on the bottom-left side of the lid. These

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 103 distinctive functions of delimiting taps and depicting lines continue throughout the excerpt. In PAR’s next turn unit (line 16), he physically divides the “index” with a curved line (Figure 9), dragging his finger to the right from the site of the previous taps (the lower-middle lid), ending up a few inches above it. He then makes a circle (Figure 9) to mark the content “some vattings” (line 16). This is then followed by three taps, while MAN minimally responds (line 17, Figure 10). As PAR keeps his index finger on the lid, he retains his turn and, following MAN’s alignment with “and a settings” (line 18), resumes by drawing a straight line a few inches above the previous taps (Figure 11). The content is once again followed by three taps (Figure 11) that overlap with a repair of the content name “object” (line 18) and MAN’s aligning response (line 19). While tapping twice, PAR proceeds with his description at an increased verbal pace, saying “and inside” (line 20), and drawing a zigzag line to emphasize the content “settings object” (Figure 12). The taps and the zigzag line are at the same place on the lid as the previous taps, which reso­ nates with the fact that he is still explicating the same content (“settings object”). During PAR’s turn in line 20, COW maintains his embodied position and gaze in a position for perception (Goodwin, 2017), while MAN lowers his gaze towards the table in a mid-air stare (Rasmussen, 2016). Combined with the previous over­ lap (line 19), this embodied recipient display could indicate that the progression could be sped up (Heinemann et al., 2011), but PAR does not orient to the overlap in this way. Subsequently, PAR lifts his index finger and moves it a few inches to the left, placing it on the lid with a tap, then immediately traces a zigzag line at the same spot (Figure 13), verbalizing the first content category “analysis” (line 21). As he says “and then you place” (line 22), he increases the tapping, regaining MAN’s gaze, before once again lifting his index finger from the lid and landing it in two additional taps a little further to the left (Figure 14), thereby explicating the second content category “analysis name” (line 22). After altering the tapping frequency (line 22), MAN redirects his gaze towards the laptop lid, re-establishing joint attention. PAR therefore succeeds not only in achieving visual attention, as shown in the previous excerpt, but also in maintaining it, by employing audible, gestural, and tactile resources mediated via the laptop lid as an attention-retaining device. The depiction, with taps and drawing lines, functions as a means of retaining his turn of talk and as a management tool of his recipients’ gaze and attention. The audible taps emphasize PAR’s visual display as a mediated distribution of his primarily auditive and tactile knowledge perception (Due, 2021), directed towards his seeing recipients. Thus, when drawing, PAR orients towards a visual norm, even though he himself has no visual perception, and as such cannot align with his recipients’ embodied displays of understanding (e.g. line 20). The utilization of the laptop lid as a canvas for a visual, tactile, and audible perceivable display constitutes a mutual referential field that connects the participants’ various sensorialities. During this excerpt, COW does not verbally align but maintains his embodied position and gaze towards PAR’s depiction on the laptop lid (Figures 7–14), fully accepting both the role of recipient and the laptop lid as pivotal to the ongoing interaction. MAN’s many minimal verbal responses not only affirm understanding

104

Louise Lüchow

(Seuren et al., 2018) but also constitute encouragement for PAR to proceed, mak­ ing up for COW’s lack of verbal responses. The continuers verbally ensure that PAR receives an audible response to which he can sequentially adapt his dem­ onstration and recipient design. The explication of the digital setup is therefore a collaboration between MAN and PAR, addressed to COW. The depiction continues for another 26 seconds (omitted from transcript). Fig­ ure 2 shows the depiction, outlining PAR’s mediation of the digital setup.

Figure 2

Figure 3

PAR’s outlining of the digital setup on the laptop lid, and a reversed version (cf. figures 7.3–14.3 in the excerpt). As it occurs in this stylized tracking of PAR’s depiction, the digital setup is depicted from the bottom up, that is upside-down compared to how one would envision a webpage setup from a somewhat ocular-centric perspective (Workman, 2016) and how the webpage itself is visually presented on the wall screen. The upside-down depiction reveals two crucial things: first of all, it demonstrates that PAR has no visual perception. In this context, the concepts of up and down are irrelevant and obviously do not form part of PAR’s perceptional organization of the individual digital categories’ spatial relation (Briscoe & Grush, 2020; Gibson, 2002). It could also indicate how such organizing systems are taught. Educat­ ing VIPs, for example in programming, often involves using physical frames and blocks, most often placed on a table in front of them (Blasch et al., 2010). By placing and arranging the physical objects within a given frame, the VIP devel­ ops a spatial and tactile perception of how the objects relate to each other. The laptop lid represents such a frame, so when it is titled, the headline categories are placed at the “top” compared to his own position – just as they would be in an educational setting, sitting with a wooden frame on the table in front of him. Regardless of whether this is the reason for PAR’s upside-down depiction, the laptop lid functions as a physical frame for and spatial delimitation of the depic­ tion. As described by Streeck (2009), tactility can be used to give shape to abstract senses – and since, for PAR, vision is indeed an abstract sense, he utilizes the laptop lid to make the visual display concrete through tactility and audibility and thereby makes the visual “hand-able” (ibid: 150). When sharing his representation, he does not recognize that he is flipping the depiction, as it has no relevance for him to do so, considering that for him visuality is an abstract sense. Both MAN

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 105 and COW collaborate by orienting towards the depiction as an acceptable instruc­ tional representation of the software system and do so without mentioning the reversed depiction. On the contrary, when PAR explicates that he is drawing, they both explicitly confirm with a “yes” and position themselves for perception (line 10, omitted from transcript). Summary of analysis

Through the realization of patterns, or what Streeck refers to as “gestural depic­ tion” (Streeck, 2009), PAR creates a visually oriented dissemination of his other­ wise non-visual representation of the software systems being discussed, utilizing the laptop lid’s affordances as a canvas. Through the depiction, which is performed on and delimited by the lid, PAR obtains a mutual referential field and a centre of attention throughout the sequence. Although it cannot be proven interactionally to what extent the drawing itself makes any sense in the moment for the recipients, they both orient towards the lid, thus aligning with the ongoing activity. However, there is no doubt that the tapping, pointing, and drawing serve as deictics in the description of the software system. PAR verbally categorizes the content but makes no attempt to describe its placement with words. As such, the depicting gestures function as indexical methods, visually oriented towards the co-participants’ visual perception; while the audible, tactile tapping is oriented to his own audible and tactile sensorial perception. Despite the doubtful sense-making of the depiction itself, the recipients’ verbal and embodied alignment show that intersubjectivity within this specific, fractured perceptual participant framework is a situational and collaborative achievement that involves an extraordinary interactional effort. PAR produces a gestural depic­ tion that he cannot see himself, while MAN and COW accept this depiction even though it is upside-down and also accept that the explanation sequence continues for longer than necessary, as PAR cannot see MAN’s embodied cues for closing (line 20). This close examination therefore shows how PAR, through the affor­ dances of an available, material object with, for him, well-known spatial dimen­ sions, orients to the recipients’ visual perception when projecting the software’s physical construction. This is done through clearly sequentially structured gestural actions within the delimiting frame of the laptop lid. The object, then, becomes the key means in PAR’s construction of actions designed for these specific participants in this particular moment. Marking the end of relevance – sequence closing

This final short excerpt shows how COW marks the end of the explanation sequence, and thus the relevancy of the laptop lid, in a somewhat remarkable way. After explaining while depicting on the laptop lid for approximately 26 seconds, PAR sums up his explanation with a verbal analogy, which does not involve depic­ tion. The excerpt begins after this analogy, as PAR gives a positive assessment of his own analogy while laughing.

106

Louise Lüchow

Excerpt 5.3 60

PAR: cow:



fig:

Figure 40

.h #∪det *var en me(h)get∪# det var that was a very that was >>lid *rightH opening laptop lid–>62 fig#40 fig#41

Figure 41

61 62 63

MAN:



fig:

Figure 42

faktisk en meget go analogi °det der° actually a very good analogy that one nå well ∪ ja:eh# jeg tæ* ∪det må vi husk∪ yeah i’m thi we must remember that fig#42

As PAR closes the explanation sequence with a self-assessment, delivered in a smiley voice, both MAN and COW change their gaze-direction, moving their visual centre of attention away from the laptop lid (line 60, Figure 40). While MAN orients his gaze back towards the screen on the end wall, COW lifts his gaze towards the laptop lid. He moves his right hand towards it, gently grabs the top, and adjusts the lid into an upright position. He does this without verbally explaining this action, nor does he affiliate with PAR’s invitation for laughter. PAR himself closes the sequence with the change of state token “well” (line 62), after which MAN aligns “yeah”, and initiates a new topic with the preface “i’m thi[nking]”, before repairing by affiliating with PAR’s invitation and assessment, stating “we must remember that” (line 63, figure), delivered in a smiley voice. The verbal closing happens simultaneously with COW moving the lid. In doing so, COW makes a visual display of understanding (Hindmarsh & Heath, 2000) that the laptop lid is no longer relevant to the interac­ tion, thus physically closing the explanation sequence (Day, 2014; Day & Rasmus­ sen, 2019). It is not possible to say whether moving the lid is an act of caring, boredom, orderliness, or guardianship. However, it is an unusual action to physi­ cally touch and move someone else’s laptop, without any form of verbal prefacing or request. This small, embodied action is the only point in the previous sequences at which PAR’s identity as visually impaired is observably made relevant, as COW moves the lid without further ado, possibly to give more space for using the laptop keyboard. However, considering that COW is the main recipient of the explanation, it also clearly marks the explanation and depiction sequence as successfully closed.

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 107 The mediating object

Within multimodal research on human social interaction, there is an increasing field of research focusing on the importance and significance of materiality as a resource in social interaction (Nevile et al., 2014). Objects have therefore been researched for their various roles in social interaction: as devices for organizing interaction (Kidwell & Zimmerman, 2007) and allocating turn-taking (Day & Wagner, 2014), as tools in educational settings (Asplund et al., 2022), and as interactive digital tools (Lüchow et al., forthcoming), just to mention a few. Tuncer et al. (2019) identify a particular strand of studies within research on objects in interaction, which targets “objects as resources for interaction” and what they refer to as “object-centered sequences”, that is interaction that is either focused on or implicated by an object. The current chapter aligns with this category of research on interaction with or through objects. The object, via the speaker’s actions, is directly implicated in ini­ tiating relevance, depicting, and closing the explanation, and draws the recipients’ attention throughout the interaction. As such, the presented sequences are to be con­ sidered extremely object-centred. However, the functionality of the object further adds to the previously mentioned literature on objects in social interaction, as the laptop lid becomes a mediating resource in the accommodation of the speaker’s nonvisual, tactile perception, by enabling observable, visual displays designed towards the recipients’ visual perception. The analyses of the previous excerpts of initiating, depicting, and closing an explanation sequence reveal the object as pivotal to the ongoing social interaction. It is the object that frames and mediates the embod­ ied demonstration, audible other-monitoring, and verbal displays of understanding across the participants’ various perceptions in the pursuit of intersubjectivity. Notably, the opening of the laptop lid initiates its relevance as mutual visual field, attracting joint attention towards the laptop lid and prefacing PAR’s depic­ tion. PAR cannot see that joint attention has been achieved but relies on his coparticipants’ verbal accounts. As such, PAR’s subsequent pointing and depiction of the organization of the software system are undeniably oriented towards MAN and COW’s visual perception, as PAR, having been born blind, possesses neither visual perception nor visual competences. Furthermore, the gestural and material actions are even verbally accounted for as an actual drawing by PAR, as he explicates that he is in fact drawing (line 10, omitted from transcript). Through PAR’s use of the affordances of the laptop lid as a canvas for visual and audible displays, the joint attention is observably a multisensorial accomplishment. The fact that the depiction itself makes little, if any sense to the recipients (as it is upside-down) further stresses that the visual field of attention is a mutual and collabo­ rative construct, presupposed by the participants’ acceptance and orientation towards it as intelligible. Both MAN and COW observably comply by verbally aligning and visually orientating towards the lid, thereby co-operating in PAR’s orientation towards their visual sense. Therefore, even though the depiction itself might not be understand­ able in situ, it nonetheless evokes the contextual specifications of a digital setup. This particular finding highlights that a successful, or sufficient, recipient design is not only presupposed by the speaker’s situated actions and the prior knowledge of recipients, but it is also a collaborative interactional accomplishment, one that requires a certain

108

Louise Lüchow

proactivity that expands the notion of intersubjectivity (Sacks & Schegloff, 1979) and what constitutes a “joint good enough understanding” (Heritage, 2013: 104). It is my claim that the recipients’ proactivity, in terms of exhibiting understanding of the visu­ ally impaired speaker’s visual demonstration, is promoted by the speaker’s account­ able orientation/actions towards a visually compliant recipient design. Conclusion The present chapter focuses on adapting to the visual perception of others in the pursuit of intersubjectivity. One might argue that this is one small element of how social inclu­ sion is interactionally accomplished in situ. The perspicuous case, that is the focus on recipient design from a non-visual perspective, stresses otherwise assumed practices of the functions and organization of the embodied and material resources employed in achieving “good enough” understanding in a fractured perceptual field. The focal points in this chapter are the concept of recipient design and the achievement of intersubjectiv­ ity. The study of the VIP reveals the taken-for-granted assumptions of other-monitoring and perception as visual phenomena, in accordance with an implicit ocularcentric norm. The analyses show three overall findings: (1) PAR orients towards his co-participants’ visual perception in his recipient design, even though he does not share their percep­ tion. This is observably done by employing the affordances of a laptop lid as canvas to depict and outline a specific digital setup, which accompanies a verbal description. (2) The object (the laptop lid) plays a prominent role as interactional resource in PAR’s non-visual accomplishment of a visually oriented recipient design of action. As the lid is used as an attention-directive canvas for gestural pointing and depicting, it functions as mutual referent and visual field (Goodwin, 2003). Hence, the object becomes the media­ tor that builds a bridge between the participants’ diverse perceptions. Finally (3), the par­ ticipants’ unequal access to sensory resources becomes salient throughout the utilization of the object, as the analyses show that PAR’s visual depictions are in fact upside-down. Establishing focused interaction in a co-present setting is a complex, multimodal accomplishment, in which the verbal components need to be heard and understood by the recipients and the gestures need to be seen. To achieve a successful demonstra­ tive referent (in this case, via pointing and depicting), the speaker’s ability to monitor the recipients’ gaze and embodied displays of understanding at key moments during interaction is widely considered an important instrument in shaping and adjusting the recipient design of the ongoing action (Hindsmarsh & Heath, 2000). The research on perceiving perception (Hausendorf, 2003) – that is when the recipients’ percep­ tion becomes the object of the speaker’s perception (ibid.) – primarily emphasizes gaze behaviour, but this is challenged in cases involving VIPs. Although the dif­ ferent stages of achieving joint attention are indeed described as multimodal (e.g. Hindmarsh & Heath, 2000; Goodwin, 2003; Mondada, 2013), the particular practice of other-monitoring, or perceiving perception, is usually dealt with as a purely visual phenomenon. The present study shows that perceiving perception and the resultant recipient design of actions are multisensorial – PAR audibly orients towards his recip­ ients and verbally and tactilely adjusts his demonstration. Although further studies of the multisensoriality of perceiving perception are needed, the findings presented in this chapter contribute to the concepts of recipient design, other-monitoring, and displays of understanding as multimodal and multisensorial accomplishments.

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 109 References Asplund, S.-B., Kilbrink, N., & Asghari, H. (2022). Teaching and learning how to handle tools and machines in vocational educational workshop sessions. Curriculum Studies, 54(6), 809–831. https://doi.org/10.1080/00220272.2022.2033326 Blasch, B. B., Welsh, R. L., & Wiener, W. R. (2010). Foundations of orientation and mobil­ ity. American Printing House. Retrieved February 15, 2021, from www.aph.org/product/ foundations-of-orientation-and-mobility-3rd-edition-volume-1/ Briscoe, R., & Grush, R. (2020). Action-based theories of perception. In E. N. Zalta (Ed.), The Stanford encyclopedia of philosophy (Summer). Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2020/entries/action-perception/ Couper-Kuhlen, E. (2012). Some truths and untruths about final intonation in conversational questions. In Jan P. de Ruiter (Ed.), Questions: Formal, functional and interactional per­ spectives. Cambridge University Press, pp. 123–145. Couper-Kuhlen, E., & Ford, C. E. (Eds.). (2004). Sound patterns in interaction: Cross-lin­ guistic studies from conversation (Vol. 62). John Benjamins Publishing Company. https:// doi.org/10.1075/tsl.62 Day, D. (2014). Objects as tools for talk (Z.186.05day). John Benjamins Publishing Com­ pany. Retrieved January 6, 2021, from https://benjamins.com/catalog/z.186.05day Day, D., & Rasmussen, G. (2019). Interactional consequences of object possession in insti­ tutional practices. In Objects, bodies and work practice (pp. 87–112). Multilingual Mat­ ters. www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.21832/9781788924535-007/html Day, D., & Wagner, J. (2014). Objects as tools for talk. In M. Nevile, P. Haddington, T. Heinemann, & M. Rauniomaa (Eds.), Interacting with things (Vol. 187, pp. 101–124). John Benjamins Publishing Company. https://doi.org/10.1075/z.186.05day Deppermann, A. (2015). When recipient design fails: Egocentric turn-design of instructions in driving school lessons leading to breakdowns of intersubjectivity. Undefined. www.seman­ ticscholar.org/paper/When-recipient-design-fails%3A-Egocentric-turn-design-Depperma nn/807960240871004de98d4bfad78ed410c55ec0a4 Due, B. L. (2021). Interspecies intercorporeality and mediated haptic sociality: Distributing percep­ tion with a guide dog. Visual Studies, 1–14. https://doi.org/10.1080/1472586X.2021.1951620 Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2019). Troublesome objects: Unpacking ocular-centrism in urban environments by studying blind navigation using video ethnography and eth­ nomethodology. Sociological Research Online, 24(4), 475–495. Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2020). Body part highlighting: Exploring two types of embodied practices in two sub-types of showing sequences in video-mediated consultations. Social Inter­ action. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 3(3). https://doi.org/10.7146/si.v3i3.122250 Ford, C. E., & Stickle, T. (2012). Securing recipiency in workplace meetings: Multimodal practices. Discourse Studies, 14(1), 11–30. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445611427213 Gibson, J. J. (2002). A theory of direct visual perception. In Vision and mind: Selected read­ ings in the philosophy of perception (pp. 77–91). MIT Press. Goffman, E. (1974). Frame analysis: An essay on the organization of experience. Harvard University Press. Goodwin, C. (1979). The interactive construction of a sentence in natural conversation. Eve­ ryday Language: Studies in Ethnomethodology, 97, 101–121. Goodwin, C. (1994). Professional vision. American Anthropologist, 96(3), 606–633. https:// doi.org/10.1525/aa.1994.96.3.02a00100 Goodwin, C. (2000). Action and embodiment within situated human interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 32(10), 1489–1522. Goodwin, C. (2003). Pointing as situated practice. Pointing: Where Language, Culture and Cognition Meet, 217, 241.

110

Louise Lüchow

Goodwin, C. (2017). Co-operative action. Cambridge University Press. https://doi. org/10.1017/9781139016735 Goodwin, C., & Smith, M. S. (2020). Calibrating professional perception through touch in geological fieldwork. In Touch in social interaction. Routledge. Goodwin, M. H. (1980). Processes of mutual monitoring implicated in the production of description sequences. Sociological Inquiry, 50(3–4), 303–317. https://doi.org/10.1111/ j.1475-682X.1980.tb00024.x Goodwin, M. H. (2006). Participation, affect, and trajectory in family directive/response sequences. Text & Talk, 26(4–5), 515–543. https://doi.org/10.1515/TEXT.2006.021 Hausendorf, H. (2003). 11. Deixis and speech situation revisited (Pbns.112.13hau). John Benjamins Publishing Company. https://benjamins.com/catalog/pbns.112.13hau Heinemann, T., Lindström, A., & Steensig, J. (2011). Addressing epistemic incongruence in question–answer sequences through the use of epistemic adverbs. In J. Steensig, L. Mondada, & T. Stivers (Eds.), The morality of knowledge in conversation (pp. 107–130). Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511921674.006 Heritage, J. (2013). Action formation and its epistemic (and other) backgrounds. Discourse Studies, 15(5), 551–578. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445613501449 Hindmarsh, J., & Heath, C. (2000). Embodied reference: A study of deixis in workplace interac­ tion. Journal of Pragmatics, 32, 1855–1878. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0378-2166(99)00122-8 Hindmarsh, J., Reynolds, P., & Dunne, S. (2011). Exhibiting understanding: The body in appren­ ticeship. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(2), 489–503. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2009.09.008 Hutchby, I. (2001). Technologies, texts and affordances. Sociology, 35(2), 441–456. https:// doi.org/10.1177/S0038038501000219 Jefferson, G. (1984). Notes on some orderlinesses of overlap onset. In V. D’Urso & P. Leon­ ardi (Eds.), Discoure analysis and natural rhetoric (pp. 11–38). Cleup Editore. Jefferson, G. (2004). Glossary of transcript symbols with an introduction (Pbns.125.02jef). John Benjamins Publishing Company. https://benjamins.com/catalog/pbns.125.02jef Kidwell, M. (1997). Demonstrating recipiency: Knowledge displays as a resource for the unad­ dressed participant. Issues in Applied Linguistics, 8(2). https://doi.org/10.5070/L482005258 Kidwell, M., & Zimmerman, D. H. (2007). Joint attention as action. Journal of Pragmatics, 39(3), 592–611. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2006.07.012 Lüchow, L., Due, B. L., & Nielsen, A. M. R. (forthcoming). “Smartphone Tooling: Achiev­ ing perception by positioning a smartphone for object scanning”, In D. Vom Lehn & N. Ruiz-Junco (Ed.), People, Technology and Social Organization. Merleau-Ponty, M. (2013 [1945]). Phenomenology of perception. Routledge. Mondada, L. (2011). Understanding as an embodied, situated and sequential achievement in inter­ action. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(2), 542–552. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2010.08.019 Mondada, L. (2012). Deixis: An integrated interactional multimodal analysis. In Pia Bergmann, Jana Brenning, Martin Pfeiffer, Elisabeth Reber (Eds.), Deixis: An inte­ grated interactional multimodal analysis (pp. 173–206). Berlin, De Gruyter. https://doi. org/10.1515/9783110295108.173 Mondada, L. (2013). Interactional space and the study of embodied talk-in interaction. In P. Auer, M. Hilpert, A. Stukenbrock, & B. Szmrecsanyi (Eds.), Space in language and linguis­ tics: Geographical, interactional and cognitive perspectives (pp. 247–275). De Gruyter. Mondada, L. (2014). The local constitution of multimodal resources for social interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 65, 137–156. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2014.04.004 Nevile, M., Haddington, P., Heinemann, T., & Rauniomaa, M. (2014). Interacting with objects: Language, materiality, and social activity. John Benjamins Publishing Company.

Recipient design in a fractured perceptual field 111 Nishizaka, A. (2017). The perceived body and embodied vision in interaction. Mind, Cul­ ture, and Activity, 24(2), 110–128. https://doi.org/10.1080/10749039.2017.1296465 Nishizaka, A. A. (2000). Seeing what one sees: Perception, emotion, and activity. Mind, Culture, and Activity, 7(1–2), 105–123. https://doi.org/10.1080/10749039.2000.9677650 Povinelli, D. J., & Davis, D. R. (1994). Differences between chimpanzees (Pan trog­ lodytes) and humans (Homo sapiens) in the resting state of the index finger: Implica­ tions for pointing. Journal of Comparative Psychology, 108(2), 134–139. https://doi. org/10.1037/0735-7036.108.2.134 Rasmussen, G. (2016). Repeated use of request for confirmation in atypical interaction. Clinical Linguistics & Phonetics, 30(10), 849–870. https://doi.org/10.1080/02699206.2016.1209 244 Rawls, A. W., & Duck, W. (2020). Tacit racism. University of Chicago Press. Reyes-Cruz, G., Fischer, J. E., & Reeves, S. (2020). Reframing disability as competency: Unpacking everyday technology practices of people with visual impairments. Proceed­ ings of the 2020 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, 1–13. https:// doi.org/10.1145/3313831.3376767 Rossano, F. (2012). Gaze in conversation. In The handbook of conversation analysis (pp. 308–329). John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118325001.ch15 Rossano, F., Brown, P., & Levinson, S. C. (2009). Gaze, questioning, and culture. In J. Sid­ nell (Ed.), Conversation analysis (pp. 187–249). Cambridge University Press. https://doi. org/10.1017/CBO9780511635670.008 Rossano, F. (2010). Questioning and responding in Italian. Journal of Pragmatics, 42(10), 2756–2771. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2010.04.010 Sacks, H. (1992). Lectures on conversation, vol. 1 & 2. Basil Blackwell. Sacks, H., & Schegloff, E. A. (1979). Two preferences in the organization of reference to persons in conversation and their interaction. In George Psathas (Ed.), Everyday lan­ guage. Studies in ethnomethodology (pp. 15–21). Irvington. Sacks, H., Schegloff, E., & Jefferson, G. (1974). A simple systematic for the organisation of turn taking in conversation. Language, 50, 696–735. https://doi.org/10.2307/412243 Schegloff, E. (1982). Discourse as an interactional achievement: Some uses of ‘uh huh’ and other things that come between sentences. In Deborah Tannen (Ed.), Analyzing discourse: Text and talk, Georgetown University Roundtable on Languages and Linguistics (pp. 71–93). George­ town University Press. Seuren, L. M., Huiskes, M., & Koole, T. (2018). Resolving knowledge discrepancies in informing sequences. Language in Society; New York, 47(3), 409–434. http://dx.doi.org. ep.fjernadgang.kb.dk/10.1017/S0047404518000362 Streeck, J. (2009). Gesturecraft: The manufacture of meaning. John Benjamins Publishing Company. http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/kbdk/detail.action?docID=622612 Stukenbrock, A. (2020). Deixis, meta-perceptive gaze practices, and the interactional achieve­ ment of joint attention. Frontiers in Psychology, 11. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2020.01779 Tuncer, S., & Haddington, P. (2020). Object transfers: An embodied resource to progress joint activities and build relative agency. Language in Society, 49(1), 61–87. https://doi. org/10.1017/S004740451900071X Tuncer, S., Licoppe, C., & Haddington, P. (2019). When objects become the focus of human action and activity: Object-centred sequences in social interaction. Gesprächsforschung: Online-Zeitschrift Zur Verbalen Interaktion, 20, 384–398. Workman, J. Y. (2016). Phenomenology and blindness: Merleau-Ponty, Levinas, and an alternative metaphysical vision. Electronic Theses and Dissertations, 1210, 155. https:// digitalcommons.du.edu/etd/1210.

6

Mitigating responsibility Attributing membership categories in the face of tech-related troubles Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen

Introduction: the possibilities and challenges of mainstream technologies and AI for VIPs An increasing number of novel mainstream technologies now feature AI, espe­ cially computer-vision and object-recognition, in combination with natural lan­ guage processing. These technologies offer new possibilities for visually impaired persons (VIPs). Many VIPs rely heavily on the use of technologies for accomplish­ ing everyday tasks such as checking the time of day and calendar appointments, reading, or listening to music. In that sense, they are quite competent tech-users (Reyes-Cruz et al., 2019), and these technologies have the potential to facilitate increased autonomy for this specific group of people. A key issue for many visually impaired people is being judged on their impairment, or when their impairment is made a defining feature of them as a person. Using mainstream rather than specifi­ cally designed assistive technologies for accomplishing everyday tasks offers users the possibility of “blending in” while dealing with the challenges associated with navigating an ocularcentric society (see the introductory chapter of this volume). However, no technology is flawless, and some pose very serious practical chal­ lenges for VIPs. These include trouble in terms of the functionality – or lack thereof – of the technology itself, while others concern the practical use of the tech in the context of the surrounding environment. The problems experienced by VIPs are generally connected to their lack of visual access to both the technical device itself and to the objects or environment (Due et al., forthcoming) in relation to which the technology is used. In other words, when you cannot see what might have caused the problem you are experiencing, troubleshooting becomes significantly more difficult. This chapter is especially concerned with the different types of identity work done by VIPs when dealing with obstacles and difficulties arising from the use of mainstream AI technologies. The analysis draws on both membership catego­ rization analysis (MCA) (Fitzgerald, 2012; Fitzgerald & Housley, 2015; Psathas, 1999), an ethnomethodological approach based on Harvey Sacks’s work on mem­ bers’ methods of social categorization (Sacks, 1972, 1989; cf. Schegloff, 2007b), and on conversation analysis (CA) (Sacks, 1992; Sacks et al., 1974; Schegloff, 2007a). Specifically, the chapter explores how VIPs who otherwise seem to pro­ duce actions that display competence and skills in using mainstream technologies, deal in situ with difficulties regarding tech or solve tech-related issues. DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-6

Mitigating responsibility 113 Through two exemplary single case analyses, this chapter contributes novel insights into how VIPs, via practical actions, accounts, explicit self-categoriza­ tions, the doing of category-bound activities, and the accepting of both self- and other-ascribed category-bound predicates, manage to mitigate responsibility for being unable to solve the tech-related trouble at hand, while still constructing techcompetent local identities. As far as this author is aware, there are currently no MCA studies of VIPs using AI technology, assistive or otherwise. Furthermore, this chapter is not concerned with VIPs’ practical use of AI, but rather with their different approaches to AI technol­ ogy, and the problems these approaches might cause when using this technology – an aspect of AI use that has never been examined before. Assistive and mainstream AI technologies in EM/CA VIPs commonly use assistive technology (AT), the use of which is often studied from a sociological perspective. In such studies, the focus is on the utility and effectiveness of AT when it comes to improving the quality of life for disabled people by, for example helping them overcome social and infrastructural barriers (Milian & Erin, 2001). A much-studied concern in this field is how AT sometimes marks its users as having disabilities, thus making them self-conscious, because the technology was not designed with social acceptability in mind (Shinohara & Wobbrock, 2011). This puts them at risk of stigmatization (Goffman, 1963). This chapter is concerned with mainstream AI technologies, which offer some of the same possibilities as AT but without the stigmatization. EM/CA’s interest in AI is not new (Suchman, 2006 (1987); Suchman & Trigg, 1993). However, VIPs’ use of AI technologies, either mainstream or assistive, has rarely been studied from an EM/CA perspective. One exception is Due et al.’s interdisciplinary study on how visually impaired people navigate urban environ­ ments and how novel technologies using computer vision can be improved to better meet the everyday needs of blind and visually impaired people (Due et al., 2017). In that study, a multimodal EM/CA analysis of video-ethnographic data (concern­ ing VIPs’ navigational behaviour when using guide dogs and/or white canes) was carried out. Another exception is Reyes-Cruz et al.’s (2020) ethnomethodologically oriented ethnographic study of VIPs’ use of both mainstream and assistive technol­ ogies in situations where social relations and communications, textual reading, and mobility practices are identified as the main sites of technology use. Reyes-Cruz et al.’s focus is on how disability can be thought of in terms of competences, and the study therefore contributes to our understanding of how these competences are used when VIPs are practically accomplishing everyday activities. Yet another example is Due and Lüchow’s (in press) paper on visually impaired people’s natural interaction with voice user interfaces (VUIs). Based on video-ethno­ graphic studies of VIPs’ naturally occurring, everyday use of Google Home in their own homes, the study uses CA analysis to demonstrate how people attune their way of speaking to fit the computational architecture of VUI. The authors point out that users can be observed adopting specific forms of speech when using “conversational”

114 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen voice interfaces, and they suggest a theoretical conceptualization of the phenomenon of “VUI-speak”. Their study shows how people accommodate their speech to the device, rather than the other way around. This contributes specifically to the field of EM/CA-informed research on VIPs’ use of mainstream AI technology. Theoretical approaches Membership categories as an EM/CA take on identities in interaction

This chapter takes the EM/CA perspective on identities as flexible resources that are both locally achieved and used in interaction (Antaki & Widdicombe, 1998). In an EM/CA context, as discussed by Due (Chapter 1, this volume, p. 28), the identity of people with disabilities is not defined a priori by their disability. Blindness or visual impairment is therefore not seen as permanently relevant and ever-defining features of the person but rather as what Zimmerman terms “a transportable identity”: a feature or a social category that travels with individuals across different situations, but which is only relevant in and for a situation if it is made so by being oriented-towards by the participants in the interaction (cf. Zimmerman, 2008). In the analysis, both transport­ able and situational identities are seen as social-cultural categories that can be invoked or produced locally through interaction. The focus is therefore on the person’s actions rather than the person themselves, thus avoiding any essentialist view of identity. In ethnomethodology, membership categorization analysis (MCA) (Sacks, 1972, 1989, 1992; Schegloff, 2007b; Fitzgerald, 2012; Housley & Fitzgerald, 2009) offers an approach to empirical research into the understanding of identity categories as locally relevant, interactional constructs. In this chapter, MCA is used to explore how members’ local identities are managed, achieved, and negotiated in situ, via interactional ascriptions or multimodal displays of membership of social categories. These categories are based on significant knowledge of society, making them what Sacks terms “inference-rich” (Sacks, 1989). We see our participants use these social categories, as well as the commonly understood knowledge of them shared by ordinary members of society, including the rights, obligations, particular activities (Sacks, 1972, 1992, I:241) and predicates (Watson, 1978; Psathas, 1999) that are bound to these categories when achieving local identities. Relevant to the analyses in this chapter is that both the categories themselves and the activities and predicates bound to them can be assessed by members as more-or­ less “valuable” or “attractive” in vernacular culture (Schegloff, 2007b). If someone belonging to one category is recognized by co-participants as either doing some specific activity bound to another category or, abstaining from doing one bound to the category that is currently made locally relevant, this can be used to praise or degrade the members. As such, the self- and other-ascription of membership of cat­ egories can reveal participants’ normative expectations and local understandings of what is going on (Sacks, 1972; cf. Schegloff, 2007b; Rawls & Duck, 2020; Robles, 2021), and both this and doing “category-bound activities” play pivotal roles in constituting and accomplishing not only moral order (Hester & Eglin, 1997; Smith et al., 2021), but also in situ attractive identities that adhere to this order.

Mitigating responsibility 115 As the categories are achieved and made recognizable through talk, as well as through embodied action and the use of artefacts (cf. Mondada, 2021), this chap­ ter deploys a multimodal approach to MCA. Furthermore, as suggested in Wat­ son (2021), this chapter adopts the view that a unified treatment of sequential and membership categorization analysis can result in synergies that lead to new insights (p. 17). For this reason, sequential analysis, in the form of both CA and MCA, is deployed to analyze the next examples. Accounting and making excuses in EM/CA

Alleviating responsibility for actions that are found to be violating social norms, especially those that threaten someone’s face or identity (Goffman, 1955, 1963; Brown & Levinson, 1987; Austin, 1956), is a key issue in social interaction. A whole line of research in EM/CA is concerned with accounts or explanations requested or given to justify or excuse courses of action in the context of frustrated or denied expectations (Heritage, 1990; Antaki, 1994; Robinson, 2004; Baranova & Dingemanse, 2016). In an EM/CA context, the term “excuse” is used to describe a certain type of interactionally produced social action and is not to be understood as a pejorative or as implying any blame on the part of the participants, nor is it to be understood as faulty or accusatory. Some Disabled Peoples’ Organizations (DPOs) might regard the term as inherently “ableist” due to the commonly held meanings associated with the term “excuses”. This chapter does not diminish the genuine impact of people’s disabilities or the hurdles that these constitute for the individ­ ual. In the tradition of EM/CA, this chapter examines excuses and justifications as examples of types of account that offer “an overt explanation in which social actors give an explanation for what they are doing in terms of reasons, motives or causes” (Heritage, 1990: 26). These types of accounts are often found in explanation slots (Antaki, 1994) and follow whatever offence for which they account (Antaki, 1994: 49). Excuses are actions that “aim to diminish speaker’s responsibility for the prob­ lematic conduct by relying on forces outside his/her control” (Baranova & Ding­ emanse, 2016: 642) and often occur in a context of exoneration (Antaki, 1994), either on behalf of oneself (Heritage, 1984, 1988) or someone else (Sterponi, 2009). Drawing on Scott and Lyman (1968), Jeffrey Robinson points to offence-related excuses formatted as accounts (Robinson, 2004: 309–310), but the turns involving the production of various forms of excuses can be formatted in numerous ways, depending on the project in which the action of “excusing” is a part. Competence as an EM/CA phenomenon

Competence is often defined as the ability to do something successfully or effi­ ciently based on skill or knowledge, but the term has been widely used and debated (e.g. McClelland, 1973; Hayes, 1979; Dreyfus & Dreyfus, 1980; Sparrow, 1997; Rankin, 2002; Salaman, 2004). In EM, the focus has been on situated competences, defined by Garfinkel as the “capability of managing one’s everyday affairs with­ out interference” (1967: 57). One example of an EM/CA-oriented examination of

116 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen competence in the context of disability is found in Reyes-Cruz et al. (2020). The authors point to Garfinkel’s (2002) chapter on Helen, a woman with congenital night blindness, whose arrangement of cookware in her kitchen is an example of “an account of the specific situational competencies she has developed in response to her condition” (Reyes-Cruz et al., 2020). This paper is concerned specifically with “tech-competencies”, understood as someone’s acquired ability to seamlessly – and without assistance – use technology for the purpose at hand (cf. Reyes-Cruz et al., 2020), and how “tech-competent” is a key identity made locally relevant by the VIP in the face of tech-related trouble. Description of data and case The analyses in this chapter are based on video-ethnographic data of blind and severely visually impaired people using an iPhone with the SeeingAI app installed and a Google Assistant, respectively. All data are collected in Denmark as part of the BlindTech research project, and all participants are native Danish speakers. One key point of interest in this project is the users’ creative adaptation of technology. All participants therefore already use some type of technology for the accomplishment of tasks in their everyday lives and can be described as “lead users” of mainstream technology. All had volunteered to test one or more AI-featuring technologies while performing everyday tasks, such as shopping, cooking, listening to music, etc. Much of the data depict the participants installing or being instructed in the use of some particular device or their first or second use of a particular technology, and as such they are naturally organized, ordinary activities (Garfinkel, 1991; Lynch, 2002). As the technologies were novel to the participants, and they had not necessar­ ily begun to use them for the everyday activities in which they were specifically testing them for this study, much of our data must be regarded as semi-exper­ imental. When the VIP participants are being instructed in the setup or use the technology, they are seen interacting with both the technology and their instruc­ tors. However, when they are testing the technology, for example at home or in supermarkets, they are most often alone with the researcher, who is filming using a handheld camera, and as such is the participant’s primary potential human interlocuter. In these settings, the participants interact with both the technology and the researcher, who thereby takes on the role of involved co-participant rather than just an “observer” or “camera-operator”. In our data, we see a lot of accounts and explanations aimed at the researcher making the data “co-produced” rather than “collected” (Mondada, 2012; Goico, 2021; Hofstetter, 2021; Katila et al., 2021; Pehkonen et al., 2021). When looking through the data, we encountered many cases of users experienc­ ing trouble not just with failing/malfunctioning technology but also with its practical use. This led to a more focused search for instances in which VIPs deal with some sort of tech-related problem for which a dataset is currently being assembled. The issues we see VI tech-users encounter in our data are often directly related to their limited visual access to either the technology itself or to the environment/object(s) in relation to which the technology is being used. What is explored here under the term “tech-related troubles” is therefore not solely related to a malfunctioning

Mitigating responsibility 117 device but also the difficulties VIPs experience due to their limited visual access to de facto functioning AI technology. The transcripts in this analysis are made using the Jefferson notation system (Jefferson, 2004). Pictures are used to illustrate embodied movements, with inspiration from Mondada (2018). The use of # in the transcript indicates when the still is taken. The transcripts are in Danish with a vernacular English translation provided in blue. Analysis In the following, two excerpts are analyzed. Both examples show how VIPs produce excuses for not being able to solve some tech-related problem by negotiating membership of some inference-rich categories (Sacks, 1972, 1989), thereby making locally relevant their transportable identities, while simultaneously constructing situated identities as competent tech-users, despite their disabilities. The digital literate as a desired identity

This first excerpt is taken from data collected with a man (Paul) who was born blind. Paul is quite tech-savvy and works full-time as an IT specialist, seamlessly navigating his computer, coding, and solving complex tasks using the VoiceOver function. Paul is filmed testing the SeeingAI app in a supermarket while grocery shopping. SeeingAI is an artificial intelligence app developed by Microsoft for iOS as an aid to people with visual impairment. The app uses the device camera to identify people and objects. It can read printed text aloud and audibly describe interiors and retrieve information from barcodes as long as they are listed in an accessible database. It is this latter function that Paul is testing in the excerpt. This trip to the supermarket is the first time Paul has used the app outside his home. The excerpt occurs around 30 minutes into his shopping trip. With the assistance of the researcher, who is filming, and with whom Paul is continuously interacting, Paul has gotten hold of a carton of milk. Using the app, he is trying to scan the barcode, hoping to obtain relevant information, such as the type of milk, its price, and the “best before” date. Research shows that the actual embodied actions required for a seemingly simple scanning task using a handheld device include a complex organization of the body, the object, and the phone/camera in a situated spatial environment. As visually impaired people achieve the required body-phone-object-space relation through senses other than the visual (Lüchow et al., 2023; Nielsen et al., 2021), they can find this complex organization particularly challenging. This was evident in Paul’s first attempt to scan a bag of cheese in the shop, which turned out to be an arduous and futile trial-and-error process lasting more than 15 minutes. Milk is the second product on Paul’s shopping list. At this point, he is drawing on his past experience with estimating the correct distance and angle between the mobile camera and the product he is scanning and has just commented on this before the excerpt begins. However, he still has trouble with both aligning the camera and product, and with angling the camera at the product to accomplish the scan (for more details on this, see Nielsen et al., 2021; Due

118 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen et al., 2022). The trouble that Paul is encountering here thus concerns the relation­ ship between the technology and the object in a spatial environment, about which the technology is supposed to provide him with information. Throughout the shop­ ping process, Paul has been continuously listing challenges associated with using the SeeingAI that he and the researcher are “troubled by” in their collaborative project. This indicates that Paul is very aware that this is not an easy task for him. This first excerpt (excerpt 6.1) begins when Paul is in the middle of a long account of his trouble locating the barcode. In his first turn, he produces two selfcategorizations, which function as excuses for the failure of the immediate collabo­ rative project: Paul scanning the barcode. Excerpt 6.1

1

PA: RE: VO:

Paul Researcher VoiceOver on iPhone

PA:

så vi er faktisk også ramt af at du er her so we are actually also troubled by that you are here sammen med en fuldstæendig analog analfabet at gøre together with a completely analog illiterate der faktisk ikke ved hvor stregkoden står på en liter mælk who actually don’t know where the barcode is on a carton of milk (1.9)((PA holding mobile camera over side of milk))# #fig1

2 3 4

fig

Figure 1 5

RE:

6

PA:

7

fig RE:

8 9

RE:

10 11

PA:

12 RE: 13

PA:

14 RE: 15 16

PA:

Figure 2 ved du hvor den er do you know where it is det kan jeg garantere dig for at jeg ikke gør # ((smiling)) i can guarantee you that I don’t # ((smiling)) #fig2 nej no (1.8) ((PA laughing while trying to scan the milk)) ved du hvor do you know (0.4) (det ved jeg fak[tisk ik] (that I actu[ally don’t] [den ] plejer at stå= [it ] usually is= =nej =no ba be det har jeg faktisk aldrig taenkt over i mit liv that i have actually never thought of in my life at du ikke har kunnet mærke den that you(sing) have not been able to feel it

Mitigating responsibility 119 In line 1, Paul ascribes the category “completely analog illiterate” to himself. The membership category “illiterate” can, like its opposite category “literate”, be seen as belonging to the collection competences. However, Paul points to himself not being illiterate per se, but specifically regarding what he terms “analog”. The vernacular opposite of “analog” is “digital”, so being an “analog illiterate” implicates not being able to “read” or navigate anything that is not digital – that is the physical, nontechnological world. In this way, Paul orients to his own lack of a particular skill or competence as one of the sources of the tech-related trouble he is experiencing. Paul underlines his affiliation to this category as he self-ascribes the predicate “not knowing where a barcode is located”, which is bound to the category “analog illiterate” in line 3. However, Paul does not treat his specific type of “illiteracy” as problematic in situ. When RE asks him if he knows where the barcode is, she is using a posi­ tively formulated interrogative (l.5), generally preferring a “yes” answer (Schegloff, 2007a; Pomerantz, 1984; Pomerantz & Heritage, 2012; Hayano, 2012). Paul pro­ duces a negative answer (l.6), but without the delay, mitigation, or hedging that tends to accompany the production of dispreferred responses (Schegloff, 2007a; Heritage, 1990). Rather, Paul produces his response as an assurance (“I can guarantee you that I don’t”) in a smiley voice. In lines 9 and 12, RE reformulates her question, now ask­ ing if Paul knows where a barcode is usually located. This reformulation makes clear that the RE’s project is to obtain knowledge about Paul’s epistemic status regarding “barcode location on groceries”, offering Paul the possibility of accepting or reject­ ing the predicate “unknowledgeable with regards to physical location of printed fea­ tures”, which is bound to Paul’s chosen membership category “analog illiterate”. Paul answers this with an emphasized “no”, again formatted without delay or hedg­ ing and in a smiley voice. In this way, Paul unhesitatingly accepts RE’s proposed predicate. He then elaborates (l. 15–16) his stance towards it, explaining that he has never in his life thought about either barcode location or that barcodes are haptically unavailable, that is something he has “not been able to feel”. This last account for his lack of knowledge concerning the location of barcodes makes locally relevant Paul’s complete and lifelong lack of vision and his resulting reliance on other senses (in this case, touch). Adhering to and extending Sacks’s hearer’s maxim (“If a categorybound activity is asserted to have been done by a member of some category . . . Then hear it that way” (Sacks, 1972: 337)) to category-bound predicates, this can be heard as being bound to the membership category blind or functionally blind, which can belong to the collections disabilities or levels of vision. Either way, the account serves to make locally relevant Paul’s transportable identity as born blind, which until this point has not been addressed directly. Of the two categories of which Paul claims membership, namely analog illiter­ ate (l.2) and blind or functionally blind, belonging to the collection disabilities, the former stands out as rather self-invented or private, and carefully worded. It is also the one to which Paul directly self-ascribes membership. As mentioned, the vernacular opposite of “analog” is “digital”, so being an analog illiterate has to do with competences regarding the “non-digital”, and as such belong to a collec­ tion called analog and digital competences. By making these two identities locally relevant, his identity work ultimately serves to mitigate his responsibility for not managing to scan the barcode. In this way, his blindness becomes his excuse in situ.

120 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen The categories that Paul makes relevant are not culturally considered positive or desir­ able. Most members of society would consider “seeing” as a membership category to be preferred over “blind”. Likewise, being a member of the category “literate” is gener­ ally considered more desirable than “illiterate” (Sacks, 1989; cf. Schegloff, 2007b). Still, we see Paul co-producing these situated identities relatively unproblematically, without hedging or mitigating. Examining more closely Paul’s choice of words for the category analog illiterate, it becomes apparent that it can be seen as implicitly evoking a countercategory from the same collection in the same MCD, namely that of a “digital literate” – or, as commonly understood, good at “reading” or using technology. Paul has specifically been chosen to test the AI technology because he is generally considered tech-savvy or “digital literate”. By ascribing this unusually worded category to himself in this specific context, Paul manages to make this attractive counter-category relevant, thereby making apparent that his in situ trouble with solving a tech-related problem is solely due to his blindness and the associated lack of knowledge about the whereabouts of specific nontactile features of everyday objects. In this way, he preserves and maintains the integrity of his important identity as “competent tech-user”, which functions as a face-saving strat­ egy (Goffman, 1955; cf. Heritage, 1988: 136) both for him and for the researcher. Accounting for an “absent activity”: visual impairment as an attractive category

The second example features a woman, Ethel, who has become profoundly visu­ ally impaired as an adult. She has acquired a Google Assistant (GA) to assist her in her everyday life. An ICT consultant (IC) from the Institute for the Blind and Partially Sighted (IBOS), Denmark’s national competence and rehabilitation cen­ tre, has come to Ethel’s home to help her set it up. Ethel has very little vision left and is unable to read font sizes that seeing people generally use. In the excerpt, we see how Ethel makes relevant the absence of potentially relevant categorybound activities and how she sets up explanation slots or “account-shaped space” for herself (Antaki, 1994: 74,79). She does so by marking her accounts of what is causing the trouble as unexpected, or at least offending the “regularities of ordinary exchanges” (Antaki, 1994: 79). The analysis shows how, by deploying these strate­ gies, Ethel makes relevant several membership categories that contribute to her excusing her difficulty with solving her current tech-related problem.

Figure 6

Mitigating responsibility 121 The excerpt (excerpt 6.2) is taken after the IC has helped Ethel unpack the Google Assistant Smart Speaker (GA) (see Figure 5.0), which she has then plugged in and turned on. After running a setup menu, the GA, which works via voice user interface (VUI) (cf. Due & Lüchow, in press) has just voiced an instruction about how to continue with setting up the GA by downloading the Google Home app. At the beginning of the excerpt, both the IC and Ethel are looking at the GA (Figure 6). Excerpt 6.2

1

ET: CI: HB

Ethel ICT consultant Home button on iPhone

IC

så vi skal have hentet en google home app so we need to download a google home app ja yes jeg ved ikke om du vi::l (.) I dont know if you want to (.) gØre det p:å ipaden eller p:å telefonen do it on the ipad or o:n the mobile (2.6)((ET stands still)) (0.5)((ET reaches for mobile in her pocket and takes it out)) man kan jo nu altså # (.) now one can now that is # (.) #fig.1

2 ET 3

IC

4 5 6 ET:

fig

Figure 1 7 8 IC 9 10 ET 11 12 ET 13 14 ET:

fig

Figure 2 fØrst starte med at gØre det på telefonen first begin by doing it on the mobile ((ET presses HB)) ja↑ yes↑ (4.8)#((ET looking closely at mobile while tapping an icon)) #fig 2 °næ° °no°((ET presses HB)) (3.0) (ET taps same icon looking even closer)) °uh° °uh° (4.1)((ET moves mobile up even closer to her face))) ja # nu har jeg ikke voiceover på det ved jeg godt yeah# now I don’t have voiceover on i know that #fig3

122 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen

Figure 3 15

Figure 6 (80.0)((ET mobile looking closely at screen while alternately swiping and writing while using the zoom # function)) 9 lines of talk omitted

25 26 27 Fig 28 29

(9.4)((ET looking very closely at screen while writing)) det er en go dag i har valgt it is a good day you(pl) have chosen fordi £lige i da(h)g# der driller min Øjne£ because £just toda(h)y# my eyes are acting up£ #fig6 (.8) ((ET still looking at screen)) .hhh £rigtig meg(h)et£ .hhh £very mu(h)ch£

In the first line, the IC, using “we”, proposes the collaborative activity “down­ loading an app” as something that must be done. This offers both participants comembership of the category tech-user, which is thereby made locally relevant. By agreeing (l.2), Ethel accepts the offered membership. In lines 3 and 4, the IC shifts the responsibility for the activity to Ethel. By using the pronoun “you” in the singu­ lar, she assigns to Ethel the obligations of both performing the activity “download­ ing app” and deciding how it should be done, by leaving it up to Ethel to decide which device she wants to use for the task. The IC’s utterance is followed by a 2.6-second silence (l.5), indicating that Ethel perhaps meets this obligation with some consideration or hesitation. However, after the silence, she bodily accepts the responsibility of doing what is now the locally relevant category-bound activ­ ity “downloading the app” by reaching into her pocket and retrieving her mobile phone, before declaring that “one” can begin by “doing it on the mobile” (l.6,7). CT’s choice of the pronoun “one”, in combination with the Danish adverb “altså” (translated here as “that is”), displays a certain reluctance with regard to the choice of device. It indicates that this might not be her ideal choice; rather, it is due to the mobile phone being conveniently at hand. Ethel utters her last turn while holding the device approximately 20 cm from her eyes (Figure 1). After Ethel presses the Home button (HB), the IC agrees with Ethel’s proposed choice of device (l.8). Meanwhile, Ethel moves the mobile closer to her eyes, so that it is only approximately 12 cm from her face (Figure 2). Then follows an almost five-second silence during which Ethel gradually moves the mobile even closer, continuously shifting the angle, until it is approximately 7 cm

Mitigating responsibility 123 from her eyes (Figure 3). She then taps an icon on the screen. As the screen shifts, Ethel mutters “no” in a low voice, presses HB, and then once again taps the same icon. After uttering a low “uh” (l.12), Ethel moves the mobile even closer, now holding it approximately 4–5 cm from her eyes (Figure 4). Just over four seconds of silence follow, in which she moves the mobile even closer. Ethel’s embodied actions make clear that she has real difficulties seeing what is on the screen and finding the right app. She is simultaneously doing two category-bound activities, tied to two different membership categories. One is the main activity or project to which Ethel has agreed, namely “installing an app”, which is bound to the membership category tech-user, which was initially made locally relevant by the IC and accepted by Ethel. However, the way in which Ethel is doing this activity is not consistent with how installing an app is “usually” done: a sighted person would hold the mobile at a distance of approximately 40–45 cm from their face and tap the icon(s) they visually recognize as relevant for performing a given task. Looking at your mobile from a distance as low as 4 cm and relying on how the screen changes once an icon has been tapped for informa­ tion are activities that can reasonably be assumed to be bound to the category profoundly visually impaired, belonging to either the collection disabilities or level of sight. This is a membership category that is congruent with Ethel’s transportable identity as visually impaired. Despite performing this category-bound activity visibly and in front of the IC, at no point does Ethel do anything to acknowledge it or otherwise make it locally relevant. After spending more than 12 seconds trying to locate the app on her mobile, in line 14, Ethel verbally accounts for the way she uses her mobile, or rather, for how she does not use one of its features – namely “VoiceOver”, a function designed for users who cannot see the screen and therefore have to rely primarily or solely on non-visual sensory output (“yeah now I don’t have voiceover on I know that”). The turn-initial “yeah” has been shown to exhibit either acknowledgement or agree­ ment (Drummond & Hopper, 1993; Jefferson, 1984). However, in this sequential context, Ethel’s interlocutor has not spoken for more than 12 seconds, nor has she provided any verbal minimal responses to Ethel’s commentary on her attempt to download the app. It is also worth noting that, due to her profound visual impair­ ment, Ethel would not have been able to see any embodied actions on the part of the IC that might warrant any response. This “yeah” must therefore do another job, which will be explored in the following. It is clear that Ethel has chosen to rely on her very limited remaining sight rather than use the VoiceOver feature. “Relying on remaining sight for performing a task” can be seen as an activity tied to the membership category visually impaired. By contrast, “using VoiceOver” is an activity bound to the category blind or function­ ally blind, understood as having to rely almost exclusively on non-visual senses. Not doing activities that it might otherwise reasonably be expected that a mem­ ber of a category would do in a given situation can be made problematic, and a resource for complaints about “absent activities” (Stokoe, 2012). Ethel’s abstaining from using the VoiceOver function – an action that the IC could reasonably expect Ethel to carry out – can in this context be seen as an “absent activity”. Ethel’s turninitial “yeah” can be seen as exhibiting acknowledgement of the IC observing her struggle (cf. Nielsen et al., 2022) but could also be a complaint about an “absent activity” bound to the category.

124 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen Ethel’s account in line 14 therefore serves multiple functions. It constitutes a rejection of membership of the category blind or functionally blind, but it equally serves to acknowledge that her apparent struggle with the mobile is accountable and “not how tech-users normally install an app” as commonly understood. As such, the account functions as an excuse for how she conducts her situated identity as tech-user. The turn-final “I know that” sets up an explanation slot (Antaki, 1994) that allows Ethel to alleviate blame and justify herself (cf. Antaki, 1994: 68, 79). By insisting on using her remaining eyesight, Ethel bodily ascribes to herself membership of the category visually impaired, rather than that of blind or function­ ally blind. Her multimodal local identity construction shows that she considers “visually impaired” the more desirable category and that claiming membership of this is important to her. IC does not verbally respond to Ethel’s account, and more than 80 seconds of silence go by before Ethel locates the correct app. After ten lines of Ethel asking for confirmation or rejection of whether the app on her screen is the right one, and the IC rejecting or confirming (omitted here), more than nine seconds of silence go by before Ethel once again sets up an explanation slot for herself. She does so by ironically remarking that “it is a good day you (pl) have chosen, because just today my eyes are acting up (.8) very much” (l. 26–29). The last part is produced with a smiley voice, growing into suppressed laughter. Here, Ethel uses what she describes as a temporary and rare (“just today”) problem to produce an account that comes to function as an excuse for not managing to install the app more seamlessly. Her “eyes are acting up”, and “just today” they are doing so “very much”. The temporary nature of her problem serves to further alleviate her own responsibility for the issue, as she did not pick the day (“it is a good day you(pl) have chosen” l.26) – someone else picked it for her. Like Paul, Ethel essentially uses her disability rather than her tech competences as an excuse that is locally relevant in the face of tech-related troubles. However, unlike Paul, she attributes the severity of the troubles to a temporary feature of her condition – her eyes “acting up”. This is, furthermore, linked to her merely being visually impaired rather than blind. If you are (functionally) blind, you are never able to see anything; but as a visually impaired person, you are usually able to see something. That Ethel describes her “eyes acting up” as something rare (“just today”) further underlines her identity work from earlier. The VoiceOver feature on the mobile is not for her, a tech-competent user who normally has no problem navi­ gating her mobile using her remaining sight – rather, it is for “blind people”. The entire excerpt is an example of Ethel achieving situated (as well as transportable) identities as both visually impaired (rather than blind) and competent tech-user. Concluding discussion Interactionally constructing identities that one finds both desirable, locally rele­ vant, and meaningful is important to all humans. So is accounting for shortcomings and making excuses for offensive or undesired actions, thereby diminishing one’s own responsibility for any problematic conduct (Baranova & Dingemanse, 2016; J. C. Heritage, 1990; Levinson, 2012).

Mitigating responsibility 125 For VIPs, one major challenge in terms of the ongoing local construction of relevant situated identities is that one feature of their transportable identities (Zim­ merman, 2008), namely their blindness or profound visual impairment, is plainly tangible in much social interaction. They are therefore at risk of others automati­ cally ascribing to them, at first sight, membership of either a less desirable category from the collection levels of vision, or a category from the collection disabled. This happens even in situations in which they themselves do not consider this relevant. In both excerpts, however, it is the visually impaired participants themselves who make their transportable identities relevant by recognizing and actively using their blindness (ex. 1) and visual impairment (ex. 2) in their identity work. How they use their level of vison is very different: in example 1, Paul uses his membership of the categories analog illiterate and blind as excuses for his inability to effectively solve the specific tech-related trouble he is facing. At the same time, he manages to indirectly ascribe to himself membership of a commonly understood, important, and attractive category in modern-day society – that of the digital literate. In simple terms, he is competent at using technology. In this way, Paul manages to distance himself from the troubles he has encountered, making them unrelated to his knowl­ edge, ability, or competence with regard to technology. Rather, he attributes the trou­ ble to the spatial relationship between the device and the object in relation to which it is used, as well as to non-haptically identifiable features of that object – all things to which he has no visual access. Ultimately, this allows him to use his blindness as an excuse, while still upholding his key identity: that of a competent tech-user. Ethel, on the other hand, simultaneously displays a great level of self-awareness about her disability while actively distancing herself from one membership cat­ egory (blind or functionally blind ) in favour of another (visually impaired ). In our study, we see big differences in how VIPs deal with their disabilities and navigate the world, depending on whether they are born blind or have lost part or all of their eyesight later in life, particularly if they have some remaining eyesight and are therefore “only” profoundly visually impaired (see, e.g. Due et al., forthcom­ ing). Visually impaired people who have gradually lost eyesight regularly express fear of their sight deteriorating further, or even worse, of completely losing their remaining sight. This is not surprising, as it would significantly affect a wide range of everyday situations, such as finding their way locationally or geographically, distinguishing between similar products (such as a can of beans and a can of toma­ toes) or writing notes by hand, and thus severely impact their autonomy, self-suffi­ ciency, and self-identity (cf. Hull, 2001, 2016). In this light, it is unsurprising that Ethel rejects the category blind or functionally blind and considers it unattractive or even threatening to her perceived self-identity. We see this when Ethel not only verbally accounts for not doing an activity bound to this category (using VoiceOver) but also blames a passing here-and-now issue (her eyes “acting up” today) for why she cannot navigate her mobile efficiently, rather than blaming her impairment directly. Moreover, Ethel is handling the mobile in front of both an ICT consultant and a researcher. As she knows she is being observed, it may very well be even more important for her to display competence (cf. ReyesCruz et al., 2020; cf. Nielsen et al., 2022, forthcoming) when handling the technology.

126 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen We see in the excerpts that both participants strive to manage their “everyday affairs without interference” (Garfinkel, 1967: 57) in their attempt to be perceived by others as competent. Garfinkel links this to people’s experience of being a “bona-fide member of society”, which is desirable regardless of the level of sight. As many VIPs are dependent upon technology and are consequently also very com­ petent users, belonging to the category “competent tech-user” is often a defining feature of their identities. We see in the analysis that in situations like these, where a sighted person is observing or instructing a partially sighted or blind user dealing with new tech­ nologies in unfamiliar situations, the co-construction and maintenance of the user’s identity as “competent at using the technology at hand” is important both for a successful outcome and for saving face for all participants in the interaction. The analyses also give examples of what can locally function as acceptable excuses for experienced tech-related troubles and that these depend both on the users’ degree of visual impairment and on their perceived level of tech competence. Contribution to EM/CA and insight into human sociality at large This chapter sheds light on how people with visual impairment manage the inter­ actional accomplishment of two related aspects of human sociality. One is being perceived by themselves and others as competent (Garfinkel, 1967: 57), especially with regard to areas of life that people consider important for their self-identity in situ. The other is striving to be publicly exonerated from responsibility for mistakes or shortcomings that damage or threaten their perceived ideal self-identity, which in this particular semi-experimental setting is closely linked to tech competence. As such, the chapter contributes both to EM/CA research in human–computer interaction (HCI), which is concerned with VIPs’ approach to and use of main­ stream AI technologies (Reyes-Cruz et al., 2019, 2020; Due et al., 2022a, 2022b; Nielsen et al., 2021; Nielsen & Due, 2022; Due & Lüchow, in press), and to HCI more broadly (Norman & Thomas, 1991; Suchman, 2006). This latter research cov­ ers aspects such as managing voice user interfaces (Reeves, 2017; Porcheron et al., 2018), usability testing (Reeves, 2019), and human–robotic interaction (Pelikan & Hofstetter, 2022; Pelikan & Broth, 2016; Due, 2019). It also contributes to EM/CA research into how excuses are produced (Heritage, 1990; Antaki, 1994; Robinson, 2004; Baranova & Dingemanse, 2016), and in par­ ticular how certain membership categories – even some not commonly considered attractive – can be used by participants in interactions as a resource for exoneration and for shielding whatever identity they find more important in situ. The insights also already inform learning materials for practitioners working with instructing VIPs in the use of technology – both assistive and mainstream. The learning material covers how instructors might display sensitivity when approach­ ing this type of potentially face-threatening learning situation involving complex technologies, while still offering VIPs membership of categories that are locally very important for them.

Mitigating responsibility 127 References Antaki, C. (1994). Explaining and arguing: The social organization of accounts. SAGE. Antaki, C., & Widdicombe, S. (1998). Identity as an achievement and as a tool. Identities in talk (pp. 1–14). SAGE Publications Ltd. Austin, J. L. (1956). A plea for excuses: The presidential address. Proceedings of the Aris­ totelian Society, 57, 1–30. Baranova, J., & Dingemanse, M. (2016). Reasons for requests. Discourse Studies, 18(6), 641–675. Brown, P., & Levinson, S. C. (1987). Politeness: Some universals in language usage. Uni­ versity Press. Dreyfus, S. E., & Dreyfus, H. L. (1980). A five-stage model of the mental activities involved in directed skill acquisition (Manuscript, University of Berkeley). Drummond, K., & Hopper, R. (1993). Back channels revisited: Acknowledgment tokens and speakership incipiency. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 26(2), 157–177. Due, B., Kupers, R., Lange, S., & Ptito, M. (2017). Technology enhanced vision in blind and visually impaired individuals. CIRCD Working Papers in Social Interaction, 3(1), 1–31. Due, B., & Lüchow, L. (in press). VUI-speak: There is nothing conversational about “con­ versational user interfaces”. In Social robots in institutional interaction. Bielefeld Uni­ versity Press. Due, B. L. (2019). Laughing at the robot: Incongruent robot actions as laughables. Paper presented at Mensch und computer, Hamborg. Due, B. L., Nielsen, A. M. R., & Jakobsen, S. C. D. (2022a). Den sociale konstruktion af uvi­ denhed: en medlemskabskategoriseringsanalyse (MCA) af samskabelsen af identiteter, når ældre svagsynede borgere møder ny teknologi. NyS, 61, 9–39. Due, B. L., Nielsen, A. M. R., & Lüchow, L. (2022b). The smartphone as a ‘socially assistive shopping robot’. Paper at ACM/IEEE HRI 2022. Due, B. L., Nielsen, A. M. R., & Lüchow, L. (forthcoming). The eye at hand: When visually impaired people distribute ‘seeing’ with sensing AI. Visual Communication. Fitzgerald, R. (2012). Membership categorization analysis: Wild and promiscuous or simply the joy of Sacks? Discourse Studies, 14, 305–311. Fitzgerald, R., & Housley, W. (2015). Advances in membership categorisation analysis. SAGE Publications Ltd. Garfinkel, H. (1967). Studies in ethnomethodology. Polity Press. Garfinkel, H. (1991). Respecification: Evidence for locally produced, naturally accountable phenomena of order, logic, reason, meaning, method, etc. in and as of the essential haec­ ceity of immortal ordinary society (I) – an announcement of studies. In: G. Button (Ed.), Ethnomethodology and the human sciences (pp. 10–19). Cambridge University Press. Garfinkel, H. (2002). Ethnomethodology’s program: Working out Durkheim’s aphorism (A. Rawls, Ed.). Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Goffman, E. (1955). On face-work. Psychiatry, 18(3), 213–231. Goffman, E. (1963). Stigma: Notes on the management of spoiled identity. Prentice-Hall. Goico, S. (2021). The participation role of the researcher as a co-operative achievement. Social Interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 4(2), 2. Hayano, K. (2012). Question design in conversation. In T. Stivers & J. Sidnell (Eds.) The handbook of conversation analysis (pp. 395–414). John Wiley & Sons. Hayes, J. (1979). A new look at managerial competence: The AMA model for worthy perfor­ mance. Management Review, 68(11), 2–3.

128 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen Heritage, J. (1984). A change-of-state token and aspects of its sequential placement. In J. M. Atkinson & J. C. Heritage (Ed.), Studies in conversation analysis (pp. 299–345). Cambridge University Press. Heritage, J. (1988). Explanations as accounts: A conversation analytic perspective. In C. Antaki (Ed.), Analyzing everyday explanation: A casebook of methods (pp. 127–144). SAGE. Heritage, J. C. (1990). International accountability: A conversation analytic perspective. Réseaux, 8(1), 23–49. Hester, S., & Eglin, P. (1997). Culture in action: Studies in membership categorization analysis. International Institute for Ethnomethodology and Conversation Analysis. Hofstetter, E. (2021). Analyzing the researcher-participant in EMCA. Social interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 4(2), 2. Housley, W., & Fitzgerald, R. (2009). Membership categorization, culture and norms in action. Discourse & Society, 20(3), 345–362. Hull, J. M. (2001). On sight and insight: A journey into the world of blindness – PDF free download. Oneworld Oxford. Hull, J. M. (2016). Touching the rock: An experience of blindness. SPCK Publishing. Jefferson, G. (1984). Notes on a systematic deployment of the acknowledgement tokens “Yeah”; and “Mm Hm”. Paper in Linguistics, 17(2), 197–216. Jefferson, G. (2004). Glossary of transcript symbols with an introduction. In I. G. H. Lerner (Ed.), Conversation analysis: Studies from the first generation (pp. 13–31). John Benjamins Publishing Co. Katila, J., Gan, Y., Goico, S., & Goodwin, M. H. (2021). Researchers’ participation roles in video-based fieldwork: An introduction to a special issue. Social Interaction. VideoBased Studies of Human Sociality, 4(2), 2. Levinson, S. C. (2012). Action formation and ascription. In T. Stivers & J. Sidnell (Eds.), The handbook of conversation analysis (pp. 101–130). John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Lüchow, L., Due, B. L., & Nielsen, R.M. (2023) Smartphone tooling: Achieving perception by positioning a smartphone for object scanning. In D. Lehn, W. Gibson, & N. Ruiz-Junco (Eds.), People, Technology, and Social Organization (pp. 250–273). Routledge. Lynch, M. (2002). From naturally occurring data to naturally organized ordinary activities: Comment on Speer. Discourse Studies, 4(4), 531–537. McClelland, D. C. (1973). Testing for competence rather than for “intelligence.” American Psychologist, 28, 1–14. Milian, M., & Erin, J. N. (2001). Diversity and visual impairment: The influence of race, gender, religion, and ethnicity on the individual. American Foundation for the Blind. Mondada, L. (2012). The conversation analytic approach to data collection. In T. Stivers & J. Sidnell (Eds.), The handbook of conversation analysis (pp. 32–56). John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Mondada, L. (2018). Multiple temporalities of language and body in interaction: Challenges for transcribing multimodality. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 51(1), 85–106. Mondada, L. (2021). Membership categorization and the sequential multimodal organization of action. In R. J. Smith, R. Fitzgerald, & W. Housley (Eds.), On Sacks – methodology, materials, and inspirations. Routledge. Nielsen, A. M. R., & Due, B. L. (2022). Frustration as Emotional Stance: when blind people encounter problems with new technology. Abstract from Atypical Interaction Conference 2022, Newcastle. Nielsen, A. M. R., Lüchow, L., & Due, B. L. (2021). Digitalizing the visible world: Scanning the environment using a mobile with an AI app. Abstract from 17th International Pragmatics Conference.

Mitigating responsibility 129 Nielsen, M. F., Nielsen, A. M. R., & Due, B. L. (2022). Blind people doing self-observation. Abstract from: The 10th annual meeting of The Language and Social Interaction Working Group (LANSI), Columbia University, NY. Norman, M. A., & Thomas, P. J. (1991). Informing HCI design through conversation analysis. International Journal of Man-Machine Studies, 35(2), 235–250. Pehkonen, S., Rauniomaa, M., & Siitonen, P. (2021). Participating researcher or researching participant? On possible positions of the researcher in the collection (and analysis) of mobile video data. Social Interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 4(2), 2. Pelikan, H., & Hofstetter, E. (2022). Managing delays in human-robot interaction. ACM Transactions on Computer-Human Interaction. Pelikan, H. R. M., & Broth, M. (2016). Why that Nao? How humans adapt to a conventional humanoid robot in taking turns-at-talk. Proceedings of the 2016 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems. Pomerantz, A. (1984). Agreeing and disagreeing with assessments: Some features of preferred/dispreferred turn shaped. In J. M. Atkinson & J. Heritage (Eds.), Structures of social action. Cambridge University Press. Pomerantz, A., & Heritage, J. (2012). Preference. In T. Stivers & J. Sidnell (Eds.), The handbook of conversation analysis (pp. 210–228). John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Porcheron, M., Fischer, J. E., Reeves, S., & Sharples, S. (2018). Voice interfaces in everyday life. Proceedings of the 2018 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, 1–12. Psathas, G. (1999). Studying the organization in action: Membership categorization and interaction analysis. Human Studies, 22(2–4), 139–162. Rankin, N. (2002). Raising performance through people: The ninth competency survey. Competency and Emotional Intelligence, 2–21. Rawls, A. W., & Duck, W. (2020). Tacit racism. University of Chicago Press. Reeves, S. (2017). Some conversational challenges of talking with machines. https:// nottingham-repository.worktribe.com/index.php/output/844412/some-conversationalchallenges-of-talking-with-machines Reeves, S. (2019). How UX practitioners produce findings in usability testing. ACM Transactions on Computer-Human Interaction, 26(1), 1–38. Reyes-Cruz, G., Fischer, J., & Reeves, S. (2019). An ethnographic study of visual impairments for voice user interface design. Paper accepted for the CHI’19 Workshop: Addressing the Challenges of Situationally-Induced Impairments and Disabilities in Mobile Interaction, May 4–9, Glasgow. Reyes-Cruz, G., Fischer, J. E., & Reeves, S. (2020). Reframing disability as competency: Unpacking everyday technology practices of people with visual impairments. Proceedings of the 2020 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, 1–13. Robinson, J. D. (2004). The sequential organization of “explicit” apologies in naturally occurring English. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 37(3), 291–330. Robles, J. (2021). A most remarkable fact, for all intents and purposes – the practical matter of categorical truths. In R. J. Smith, R., Fitzgerald & W. Housley (Eds.), On Sacks (1st ed.). Routledge. Sacks, H. (1972). On the analyzability of stories by children. In J. J. Gumperz & D. Hymes (Eds.), Directions in sociolinguistics: The ethnography of communication (pp. 325–345). Rinehart & Winston. Sacks, H. (1989). The M.I.R membership categorization device. Human Studies, 12, 271–281.

130 Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen Sacks, H. (1992). Lectures on conversation: Volumes I & II (G. Jefferson, Red.; 1. publ. in one paperback volume 1995). Blackwell. Sacks, H., Schegloff, E. A., & Jefferson, G. (1974). A simplest systematics for the organization of turn-taking for conversation. Language, 50(4), 696. Salaman, G. (2004). Competences of managers, competences of leaders. In J. Storey (Ed.), Leadership in organizations: Current issues and key trends (pp. 58–78). Routledge. Schegloff, E. A. (2007a). Sequence organization in interaction. Cambridge University Press. Schegloff, E. A. (2007b). A tutorial on membership categorization. Journal of Pragmatics, 39(3), 462–482. Scott, M. B., & Lyman, S. M. (1968). Accounts. American Sociological Review, 33(1), 46–62. Shinohara, K., & Wobbrock, J. O. (2011). In the shadow of misperception: Assistive technology use and social interactions. Proceedings of the 2011 Annual Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems – CHI ’11, 705. Smith, R. J., Fitzgerald, R., & Housley, W. (2021). On Sacks: Methodology, materials, and inspirations. In R. J. Smith, R. Fitzgerald, & W. Housley (Eds.), On Sacks – methodology, materials, and inspirations (1st ed.). Routledge. Sparrow, P. (1997). Organisational competencies: Creating a strategic behavioural framework for selection and assessment. In N. Anderson & P. Herriot (Eds.), International handbook of selection and assessment. Wiley. Sterponi, L. (2009). Accountability in family discourse: Socialization into norms and standards and negotiation of responsibility in Italian dinner conversations. Childhood, 16(4), 441–459. Stokoe, E. (2012). Moving forward with membership categorization analysis: Methods for systematic analysis. Discourse Studies, 14(3), 277–303. Suchman, L. (ed.). (2006). Human-machine reconfigurations: Plans and situated actions (2nd ed.). Cambridge University Press. Suchman, L. A., & Trigg, R. H. (1993). Artificial intelligence as craftwork. In S. Chaiklin & J. Lave (Eds.), Understanding practice (1st ed., pp. 144–178). Cambridge University Press. Watson, D. R. (1978). Categorization, authorization and blame – negotiating in conversation. Sociology, 12(1), 115–113. Watson, R. (2021). Discovering Sacks. In R. J. Smith, R. Fitzgerald, & W. Housley (Eds.), On Sacks – methodology, materials, and inspirations. Routledge. Zimmerman, D. H. (2008). Identity, context and interaction. In Antaki & Widdicombe (Eds.) Identities in talk (pp. 88–106). SAGE Publications Ltd.

7

Echo and synchrony Social attunements in visually

impaired children’s repetitive

movements

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

Introduction This is a study of a blind child, whom we will call Princess, and her involvement in interaction during a fifth-grade music lesson in a school for blind and visu­ ally impaired students. Princess engages in periodic forms of behaviour such as rocking, jumping up from her seat, and flailing her arms. Such repetitive move­ ments – traditionally known as “blindisms” – are not uncommon among blind children. Phenomenally, some are indistinguishable from movement patterns com­ mon among children on the autism spectrum, who often produce repetitive motor movements – called stimming – which are known to serve self-regulatory purposes (Kapp et al., 2019). We are interested in the potential sociality of blindisms, that is whether these motions may be a resource for, rather than a force against, as sug­ gested by most of the literature on repetitive behaviours, social participation. In other words, while these movements are not part of the “attend track” (Goffman, 1974) of focused interactions, it is possible that they are somehow incorporated into the interacting system. Overall, we hope to contribute to a better understanding of the sociality of visually impaired children. Sharon Avital and Marie Fenger made this video recording of a music lesson in the early 2000s, with the support and permission of the Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired (Avital & Streeck, 2011). It is part of a small corpus that also includes group math and (Braille) reading and writing lessons. Before focus­ ing on Princess, we discuss the concept of “blindisms” and surrounding debates and briefly outline our methods of data analysis. We first note how the children differ from one another in their repetitive movement styles and sketch some of the signature movements of each. We want to find out whether Princess’s repeti­ tive motions are in any demonstrable way attuned to the movements of others. Do repetitive, “blindism”-type movements – rocking, jumping, flailing arms, etc. – allow for or preclude the child’s interactive participation in shared activities? We describe three kinds of interactional participation involving Princess. In our close analysis of the timing of her repetitive movements, we have found that, their reg­ ularity notwithstanding, these become aligned with co-participant motions when Princess is engaged one on one with the teacher. Second, we observe that, even when she seems fully immersed in rocking and jumping, Princess displays her DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-7

132

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

attention to and participation in teacher–student talk by means of well-placed ver­ bal echoes, a common practice among many autistic people (Prizant & Duchan, 1981; Sterponi & Shankey, 2014; Stribling et al., 2007). Thirdly, rather than attend­ ing to stimming behavior as a violation of the interaction order, the interaction system incorporates Princess’s metronomic movements as a matrix for the timing of everyone’s motions and actions. This should come as no surprise, of course – it is unlikely that a communication system would bypass a process that provides such a high degree of predictability and regularity. Phenomena such as those investigated in this study are of particular interest to (and pose a challenge for) ethnometh­ odological research, which focuses on social organization as a product of mem­ bers’ accounting practices. Whereas school authorities and pedagogically minded researchers tend to account for “blindisms” as disruptive of normative classroom order, both teachers and fellow students may in fact rely on the orderly features of these norm-breaking movements in the temporal structuring of their own vocal and motor conduct. On “blindisms” “Blindism” is a term that describes “a group of simple or complex stereotypical behaviours that involve both small movements of various parts of the body, such as eye rubbing and poking, head turning, and hand flapping, and large body move­ ments such as rocking or swaying” (Silberman, 2014: 1). Because many of these behaviours can also be seen in sighted children, the term is beginning to give way to other terms, including “manneristic behaviors” (Molloy & Rowe, 2011), “repeti­ tive restrictive behaviors” (DSM-5, 2013), and “stimming”, which is the term used among autistic people. Behaviours classified in this way include, in addition to rocking, eye-poking and -pressing, hand-flapping, head-shaking, and light-gazing: “children may enjoy staring at a lamp or a sunny window and may also flick or wave their hands in front of their eyes to cause the light to make patterns” (Family Connect for the Blind, 2020: 1). Flicking hands in front of the eyes changes the intensity of the light source and as such is considered a form of self-stimulation. By far the most common of these behaviours among blind children is rocking, and its frequency, as is the case for all “blindism” habits, is greatest among children who have been blind from birth (Molloy & Rowe, 2011: 79). The frequent coincidence of blind and autistic movement patterns confounds the diagnostic picture. Theories about the etiology of these repetitive movements among blind chil­ dren include behaviourist approaches, which see them as being “continued due to reinforcement from the people in the child’s environment” (Molloy & Rowe, 2011: 80), and neurobiological explanations claiming “that these behaviors are due to damaged neurological or biochemical processes of the body” or caused by an imbalance of biochemical transmission processes in the central nervous system (loc. cit.). In addition, functional approaches regard repetitive behaviours as mod­ erators of a person’s arousal, due to suboptimal levels of neural stimulation (loc. cit.), and therefore fulfill self-regulating functions. Finally, developmental theories treat repetitive movement patterns as expressions of neuromuscular maturation processes that occur transitionally in the motor development of children without

Echo and synchrony

133

disabilities, but which persist in the behaviour of children with developmental differences. Some developmental studies suggest that these behaviours emerge because of the child’s limited interactivity with the environment. The visually-impaired child’s daily life may not include the same opportuni­ ties for physical exercise as with a sighted child, due to external implications such as parent’s safety concerns and a lack of opportunity for play. Chil­ dren who are severely visually impaired [therefore] may have delayed motor development. (Molloy & Rowe, 2011: 80) Mobility is often situated in a sighted world, and blind children born into a sighted family are often not enculturated into navigating their physical environ­ ments via other sensory modalities, for example audition. The longer the child remains unfamiliar with the environment, the longer their learning and develop­ ment will be impeded. The child may reassure himself with repetitive behaviors of early infancy that are known and comforting to him or her. Another explanation is that these behaviors might also play a part in their perceptual experience of the environment. Repetitive movements could be an adaptation to the child’s lack of receptive physical and sensory stimulation. (loc. cit.) “Blindisms” bear a striking similarity to common movement patterns among autistic people. This would seem surprising, given that autism and blindness seem to be entirely unrelated conditions. However, a large number of blind children are now being diagnosed with autism, and, as we have mentioned, autistic and blind stimming appear to be virtually identical.1 Cass (1998) writes, cautiously, that “up to one-third of totally blind children are reported to suffer from a developmen­ tal disorder that has many features in common with autism in the sighted” (Cass, 1998: 117). The fact that blindness can lead to behaviours common among autistic children is even more surprising when we consider that autism among blind chil­ dren has a much better prognosis than autism among the sighted (Jure et al., 2016). In fact, it often seems reversible, as shown in Hobson and Lee’s (2010) follow-up study of nine congenitally blind and seven sighted children who had satisfied for­ mal diagnostic criteria for autism eight years earlier. Most publications about blindisms, while conceding that these behaviours must meet some motor and developmental needs of congenitally blind children, are geared towards eliminating them – see, for example Beating Blindisms (Blake, 2002). The main reason given for such interventions is that the movements are “con­ sidered ‘socially unacceptable’. It is not something most people do, even though it is probably as ‘normal’ for a blind person as biting one’s nail is for anyone else” (Blake, 2002: 2). Recommendations range from vigorous exercise (Ohlsen, 1978) to replacing the behaviour with “an acceptable behavior which serves the same

134

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

purpose” (Blake, 2002: 3), to glasses with eye-shields to protect children from pok­ ing, and traditional parent talk such as “where are your hands?” (Blind Children’s Fund, 2017), aimed at increasing the child’s body awareness, to the benign behav­ iourism of many US child-rearing manuals: Try not to scold your baby if you see him engaging in self-stimulatory behav­ ior. He may quickly learn that he can get your attention, even if it’s negative, by doing that. Instead, try to redirect his behavior. Remember to give your child attention and praise when, for example, he isn’t rocking or poking his eyes. (Family Connect for the Blind, 2020: 2) In the autistic population, stimming has more recently been reframed by autistic scholars as an expression of focused engagement, through an “intrinsically attrac­ tive motivating sensory event” (Nolan & McBride, 2015, p. 1075). Personal accounts by autistic individuals have highlighted an interest in and desire for con­ nection with others through forms of repetitive movement. Sinclair (2012) details narratives by autistic individuals of “flapping together” and a desire to connect through what members of the autistic community term “interactive stimming”. Increasingly, stimming has become a locus of connection between individuals within the autistic community, who engage in stimming as a nexus for emotional engagement beyond the self but also claim it as a core component of autistic lived experience (Kapp, 2019; Nolan & McBride, 2015). In microanalyses of video data, stimming has also been empirically shown to be involved in demonstrations of excitement and distress (Chen, 2016) and to hold interactional space in interaction with speaking interlocutors (Dickerson et al., 2007). Given the similarity in move­ ment forms across the autistic population and the blind population, stimming by blind children may also carry potential for sociality. What are the diverse ways in which blind children produce repetitive behaviour? Can these behaviours also be involved in ongoing interactional systems? Methodology Our analytic approach to these interactions is grounded in the methodology of embodied interaction research, often referred to as “multimodality” and “multi­ modal conversation analysis”. Central to this methodology is the “systematic investigation of the different kinds of semiotic resources and meaning-making practices that participants themselves attend to and treat as relevant as they build action within interaction together” (Streeck et al., 2011: 4). The way we think about the relationship between embodied interaction and symbolically mediated commu­ nication is laid out in Meyer et al. (2017): we regard symbolically mediated intersubjectivity as both grounded in and presupposing coordinated intercorporeality. Intersubjectivity – the phenomenon of understanding, of sharing minds – is always – and always in specific ways – embedded and experienced in con­ crete, intercorporeal action. (Meyer et al., 2017: xviii)

Echo and synchrony

135

This is particularly important when approaching interactions among blind indi­ viduals. When the participants cannot see each other, we cannot know how they coordinate their interactions, and as a consequence, we no longer understand the contributions made by any of the familiar “semiotic resources” (Goodwin, 2018) or modalities at any given moment, for example a turn of the head, which in “typi­ cal” interactions would often be associated with a shift in gaze-direction. Central to this research, therefore, is close attention to the temporalities of talk and other embodied conduct, that is, the temporal trajectories of moment-by-moment coordination by which dis­ tinct modal resources – actions, signs, artifacts, etc. – are aligned in situated conduct. (Deppermann & Streeck, 2018: 4) However, our approach in this chapter differs from this prior work and from some of the other chapters in this volume. Our very research questions, concerning whether repetitive movements are socially organized and/or organizing, preclude us from assuming that these movements contribute to the joint activity or action project – and if so, when and how. As our research questions indicate, our goal is discovery. Our starting assump­ tion is therefore that we know little – from both the literature and our own research – about the effects of repetitive movement on interactional participation and coor­ dination, and we cannot even assume the existence of a “working consensus” between the children, and between the children and the teacher, which Goffman describes as an “interactional modus vivendi”: Together the participants contribute to a single definition of the situation which involves not so much a real agreement as to what exists but rather a real agreement as to whose claims concerning what issues will be temporar­ ily honored. (Goffman, 1959: 9–10) This means that we are interested in any behaviour or behavioural relation that might provide evidence of sociality and interactional coordination or coopera­ tion. We are as interested in the construction of interactional and conversational sequences as we are in behaviours and resonances that are not part of the “attend track” (Goffman, 1974) occupied by the focal activity in the interaction. Given that this research – and research into interaction among visually impaired people more generally – is at a very early stage, it is important to be cautious in our interpreta­ tions of the resonances that we identify among the children. In simple terms, the fact that two children are moving together may be a necessary but not a sufficient condition for mutual understanding. In our analysis, then, we combine micro-ethnography, sequential analysis, and musical notation. We use a series of screenshots that capture shifts in the form of repetitive movement (Chen, 2016). By integrating screenshots of movement arches within a transcription format, we have attempted to depict the motion of repetitive

136

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

movements as they unfold in the video. Because some of these repetitive move­ ments occur in relation to the teacher’s singing, in those instances we have combined sequential analysis with the usage of musical notation, hence the integration of musi­ cal notes into a conversation analysis format. The musical notes represent the song being sung by the teacher. Lastly, embodied actions such as rocking are sometimes embedded into the transcription through the usage of symbols such as “-” (see also Chen, 2016; Dickerson et al., 2007), or single word descriptions such as “*clap”. Movement signatures The scene is a music class attended by four children. They are seated next to one another, facing the teacher, a microphone, drum set, and other musical instruments. The children take turns singing songs into the microphone, but our interest lies in what they do when they are sitting in their chairs. The seating arrangement provides us with a distinct perspective: we are able to compare the children’s postures and movements at any given time, and we are also able to notice any coordination of movements, should it occur. What we do not know (but must assume) is that this arrangement also affords these blind children opportunities to sense one another’s movements in ways that are not open to them in face-to-face formations: seated next to one another, the different senses that combine in their peripersonal perception may provide them with rich, non-visual information about one another’s movements.2 With her quasi-mechanical and ongoing rocking, Princess is an exception among these children. In the others, an outsider might just see a bunch of lively kids, who are appropriately rambunctious and movement-prone during music period. A teacher of blind children may see in their mobility a legitimate response to the

Princess Figure 7.1 The children

Ollie

Zach

Lizzie

Echo and synchrony

137

immobility that blindness otherwise imposes upon them. A teacher who knows the children may also see indications of the mood a child is in, or the emotions by which they are moved. Phenomenologists like the present authors study them to find out how individuals “emplace” themselves in situations and settings (Casey, 1999), and specifically how blind children secure a sense of connectedness with the ground that they depend on, but cannot see. Because our focus is on the possible sociality of repetitive movements, in the following we will only briefly illustrate, in colloquial language, the children’s movement signatures – movements that they perform while idle, or which do not belong to the attend track of the interaction. Lizzie sits calmly for much of the time when there is no music. She appears to be glued to her seat, in that she remains firmly connected to the chair even when she engages in large movements. Sometimes when she sits still, one of her knees begins to shake or both feet move rhythmically, as if she were playing the drums, accompanying a song in her head. With music, in addition to “walking” with her legs, she flails her arms, torques her torso, and shakes her head. But all the while she remains firmly grounded in her chair. The opposite is true for Zach, who frequently removes himself from his chair or invents unorthodox ways of inhabiting it. He appears to be constantly exploring the affordances of his chair – or rather, his body in relation to it. Mostly, he is seated as far back in the chair as possible, such that when he leans all the way forward, his chest is flat on the seat. He sometimes hooks his feet behind the chair’s hind-legs as he leans forward, a position he maintains, for example, while inspecting the floor before him. Occasionally, as his feet give him stability, he slides forward and leans far back, his hands behind his head. A few times, supporting himself with his hands on the seat, he squats in front of the chair. Then he kneels on it. Overall, Zach embodies for us an irrepressible need for movement that all the children feel, while being tied to a chair. Subjected to Zach’s determined exploration, the chair turns into an open landscape. Ollie’s baseline seating position is rather still, his torso swaying back and forth just a little bit as he holds onto the seat with his hands, and thus potentially prevents himself from jumping up.3 Another common posture is that he leans all the way

Figure 7.2 Lizzy “playing drums”

138

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

Figure 7.3 Zach leaning forward

Figure 7.4 Ollie blowing air over his flapping hand

forward, covering his face or “looking at” the floor in front of him, in a similar manner as Zach. Sometimes, Ollie produces short bursts of repetitive movements, all of which involve the positioning of, and his positioning on, the chair: he widely leans back and forth a few times so that the chair becomes unstable, after which he may fall forward to his knees. Sometimes, after leaning forward for a while, Ollie leans all the way back into a slouched position. Most of Ollie’s “unorthodox” movements (non-normative as far as chairs are concerned) are occupied with re­ establishing balance after deliberately moving out of it. A few times, Ollie pro­ duces a series of rapid movements that diagnosticians would classify as “restricted repetitive movements” or “tics”: he holds his open hand, palm up, in front of his mouth and blows into it while rapidly flapping his fingers. Finally, Princess seems to move like an automaton: she always follows a series of rocking movements with a few jumps, usually augmented by a flapping of the arms and hands, and then returns to rocking, as regular as a metronome. When she rocks, Princess rigidly faces forward and down and seems to be altogether removed from the scene, hidden within a cocoon spun by the clockwork movement of her torso. It is important to analyze these movements with precision if we want to understand not only how they might serve a blind child, but also how they impact

Echo and synchrony

139

Figure 7.5 Princess jumping up

the interaction dynamics of the group as a whole. In the next section, we therefore examine the temporality of Princess’s movements more closely. Analysis The temporality of Princess’s movements

In the following episode, the teacher guides the students through the four-lined stanza of a Christmas song. Through repeated rounds of instruction, each round consisting of the entire four-lined stanza, she assists the children in singing the song with pitch and rhythmic accuracy. She teaches her students to raise and lower their hands in response to melodic changes in the song, mapping out the contour of pitch movement with their hands. At times, she instructs the entire class but squats in front of one particular student, placing her hands over their hands, raising and lowering their hands to the melodic changes, while also clapping their hands to the rhythm of the song (Figure 7.6).

Figure 7.6 The teacher places her hands over Princess’s, guiding her through several hand movements

140

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

For several rounds of this instruction, the teacher sings each line of the song, and the students then echo after her by singing the same line. In this particular episode, the teacher has just finished guiding Princess’s movements and then proceeds to instruct the class to sing synchronously with her, moving away from the echoing. She stands in front of the class, providing instruction, but offering no individual hand-on-hand guidance. The teacher uses the same melody as the one in the stanza but changes the lyrics of the song by incorporating her own instructions into the melody. Extract 7.1 1

Teacher

E –cho one more time please 2

Figure 7.1.2 3

Figure 7.1.3

Teacher

Figure 7.1.4

Echo and synchrony 4

Princess

 

141

142 8 9

10

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen Princess Teacher



= *clap

or |down



Princess

Figure 7.2.3 11

Teacher



12

Figure 7.2.4

or |stays the |same

Princess

Figure 7.2.6

Figure 7.2.7

Echo and synchrony

143

Princess continues to produce movement shifts that are temporally aligned with specific words and syllables. In line 7, the teacher returns to her sing-song instruc­ tions. She says, “if the music goes up”, where “up” again contains a pitch that matches the tune of the song she is teaching. Princess produces a clap immediately after “up” is uttered (line 8). The teacher continues to sing “and down”, and Prin­ cess then touches palm to palm as if in prayer, followed by a raise in her arms, bringing her palms above her head (line 12). This series of movements continues in line 12, coinciding with stressed syllables of the teacher’s sing-song utterance in line 11 (the words “stays” and “same”). Princess lowers her palms and raises them again in alignment with these syllables. When considering Princess’s movements from lines 10 to 12, we can observe that these changes in them, from raising her palms to bringing them down, are in alignment with the stressed syllables and beats of her teacher’s singing. Extract 7.3 13 14

Teacher Princess

|One (.) two (.)

Figure 7.3.1 15 16

Teacher Here| we| go| Princess |*clap |*clap |*clap

The temporal precision of Princess’s claps continues in the next sequence. The teacher begins a countdown in line 13, then proceeds to say “here we go” before the class sings together. At first, Princess raises her hands and places them behind her head (line 14), but then proceeds to produce three claps in line 16. Each clap occurs at a very precise fixed interval, immediately after each of the teacher’s utter­ ances in line 15. In this section, we have observed how Princess produces movements – rocks, claps, shifts in hand position – in temporal alignment with her teacher’s singing and utterances. There is a regularity to these movements, which occur at specific junctures musically and syntactically. Much like a metronome, Princess’s move­ ments in this segment repeatedly align with the instructional, verbal, and musi­ cal changes conveyed by the teacher, while still maintaining a certain periodicity.

144

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

In this segment, Princess also steps out of her usual signature movement – rock­ ing – and instead produces a variety of movements. Verbal echoes The surprising conjoining of repetitive movements, which seem to follow their own clockwork logic, with actions by others is also present in the sequential organ­ ization of teacher–student talk in the data. One way in which Princess resonates with other children is by echoing their answers in teacher–student talk (see also Tarplee & Barrow, 1999; Wootton, 1999). Here, the teacher is asking the children about proper behaviour during an upcoming performance they are due to attend. Extract 7.4 1 2 3 4 5

Teacher

What do you do when you’re at a play or at a musical per[formance Lizzie [Follow instructions Princess |Follow instructions |((slow jump))

This example dispels the notion that Princess is somehow secluded in her own world. She displays none of the bodily behaviours of listening, and yet her verbal contribution shows that she is interactionally attuned to the conversation. She com­ plements her talk with a brief, if slow, jump. This pattern is repeated within the same extended question-answer sequence about proper behaviour at performances, with a similar accent shift in Princess’s echo. Extract 7.5 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Teacher

What is like the most important thing to do if you’re an audience member and you’re at a performance ( ) Lizzie No: |weird stuff. |((outward movement of right arm)) Princess N|o weird stuff |((brief jump))

Princess’s close attention to the talk is also evidenced by the precise timing of her own talk in relation to it, that is precisely timed as a next turn. Lizzie accom­ panies her turn with a forceful outward movement of her right arm, roughly in Princess’s direction. On video, it appears as if she is directing Princess to act. Prin­ cess’s utterance is coupled with her jump: “no” and “weird” are co-timed with movements. The sequence and the cooperation between the two children continue:

Echo and synchrony

145

Extract 7.6 7 8 9

Teacher Lizzie

What- (– – –) such as? Like looking (– –) Princess or walking

Lizzie is squirming in her chair when she answers and then leans forward and rearranges herself in the chair (a kind of mini-jump) and looks to Princess, who is rocking with her hands behind her head. Princess adds “or walking” and moves her hands forward and down in a gesture of emphasis. Now the teacher, returning to her initial question what would be appropriate behaviour, asks “how about listening” and gets a “yes” from Lizzie, echoed by Princess, who is continually rocking. Extract 7.7 10 11 12 13

Teacher Lizzie Princess

More important than tha:t how about listening? Ye:s= Ye:s.

A moment later, addressing all the children, the teacher asks: Extract 7.8 1 2

Teacher

3

All

And also, when you use the microphone do you need to use a very (.) loud (.) voice into the micropho:ne? NO::h.

Princess, who is sitting, picking her nose and feeling the empty chair next to her, tracks the progress of the teacher’s question (that the teacher’s turn will be a ques­ tion is clear when she says “do you”, line 2), and prepares to jump up as the teacher utters “voice into the micro”. She repositions her feet and then rises as she hears “pho:ne?” and cries “no” in chorus with the other children, making three small jumps at the same time. She then lets herself fall back into her chair. Here, then, her motions are precisely timed to fit into the sequential format of teacher–student talk: she is ready to jump exactly when it is time to answer, so that the jumping and the verbal answer come off as a single, coherent package. Princess’s echoes indicate that she is paying close attention to classroom discourse and to the teacher when she interacts one-on-one with her. Her rocking and jumping do not distract the teacher, nor do they distract Princess herself. Rather, as we have seen before, they are modulated to align with the interaction in which Princess is cen­ trally or peripherally taking part. Her verbal echoes are similar to immediate echoes in children with autism (Prizant & Duchan, 1981; Sterponi & Shankey, 2014; Stribling

146

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

et al., 2007), where echoes are used as interactional resources within the turn-by-turn structure of social interaction. When the echoes are appropriately placed in the talk’s evolving sequence structure, they differ from non-autistic speech only in terms of their frequency. Princess’s verbal echoes are likewise frequent and organized within an interactional system, thereby demonstrating attunement to the social ecology of which she is a part. If Princess is able to attune her verbal utterances to ongoing inter­ actions, can her movement be involved in a similar attunement by others? Movement echoes In the previous section, we demonstrated how Princess verbally echoes her class­ mates and her teacher. In this section, we will examine how her repetitions – specifi­ cally, her repetitive movements – become a resource that others can use for their own repetitive movements. As with the periodic ticks of a metronome with which other instruments align for a strict tempo, Princess’s movements are produced with a regularity that allows others to align with them. Specifically, her movements are sometimes integrated into the movement schema of Ollie, who is seated on her left. At the start of the lesson, before any singing, Princess can be observed produc­ ing her signature repetitive movements: she rocks forward and backwards, shoul­ ders slightly raised upwards. She is hunched and sits on her hands, occasionally swinging her legs out, while extending her body backwards. As described in the previous section, Princess moves with strict periodicity, each rock back and forth is produced at a consistent duration from one to the next. As she rocks her body, Ollie can also be observed to rock his body back and forth, at almost the same tempo as Princess (Figure 7.7). It is unclear whether the similar speed with which both Ollie and Princess are rocking is coincidental or the result of mutual attention and attune­ ment. However, when observing Ollie’s movements in other parts of the data, Ollie

Figure 7.7 Princess (left) and Ollie (right) rock together

Echo and synchrony

147

tends to produce more repetitive movement in his fingers – either tapping them on his mouth or on the chair – rather than rocking his entire body. The co-occurrence of Ollie’s rocks with those of Princess – in terms of not just movement, but also tempo – does not appear to occur by happenstance. In Figure 7.7, Princess and Ollie rock back and forth with regular periodicity (1s per rock). Princess produces a longer stretch of consistent rocking, whereas Ollie only occasionally rocks. When he does, his rocks occur at the same rate as those of Prin­ cess. Perhaps more interesting is what happens when, after a long duration of rocking, Princess produces a change in her movement. After 17 seconds of continuous rocking back and forth, Princess produces a different combination of movements: she jumps up from her seat twice, bringing her hands and shoulders up with each jump. In her first jump (Figures 7.8.1–2), Princess shoots up from her seat, keeping her arms and hands in contact with her sides. In her second jump (Figures 7.8.3–4), she brings her hands outward, keeping her arms close to her body. Her third jump (Figures 7.8.5–6) is accompanied by a further extension of her arms and hands than in her previous jumps, resulting in a slight “flap” of her hands as she brings her body upward. From a continuous stream of repetitive rocking (Figure 7.7) to this series of three jumps, Princess produces a stark change in movement. Through­ out the three jumps, Ollie ceases the slight rocking he was previously producing. Instead, he leans forward in his chair, his torso slightly bent over, hands on the rim of the chair. Figures 7.9.1–4 show the moment just after Princess’s jumps. Just as she com­ pletes her final jump, Ollie begins his. He raises his body up, torso off the chair,

Figures 7.8.1–2 Princess jumps (1)

Figures 7.8.5–6 Princess jumps (3)

Figures 7.8.3–4 Princess jumps (2)

148

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

Figures 7.9.1–4 Ollie begins his jump just as Princess finishes hers

then raises his hands to his chest, flapping them slightly when he reaches full exten­ sion of his body. As his torso comes down, he keeps his hands raised, continuing to flap them. The combination of movements produced by Ollie seems to echo the movements of Princess, namely the jump upwards and the flapping of hands. Both raise their hands – Princess at the peak of her third jump, Ollie at the cli­ max of his jump – and produce an upward and downward flapping of the fingers. The sequentiality of their movements seems particularly poignant, with the start of Ollie’s jump occurring just as Princess’s third jump ends. Such precise latching of movements is strikingly similar in timing to the latching that occurs in conversa­ tional turns, with little to no gap between their jumping turns – one immediately following the preceding jump. In addition, the tempo at which Ollie produces his jump is equivalent to Princess’s tempo, with each jump occurring over a duration of about 1 second. The sequence of jumps that ensues therefore creates a rhythmic cacophony of jumps produced one after the other by Princess, then Ollie. Research on social interaction has been greatly influenced by the visual sociol­ ogy of Erving Goffman, whose accounts of interaction and public order centred around the attention and social information acquired and provided via the eyes (Goffman, 1983). However, among visually impaired people, we can also observe movement and posture coordination that is not at all unlike that of the sighted, pro­ vided that senses other than vision can be engaged. This, therefore, raises the ques­ tion of how blind people, and the children in this classroom, perceive – and know about – one another’s movements, displays, and participation. We will not pretend to be able to answer this question, and certainly there will be more than one answer, depending upon the setting’s perceptual and movement ecologies. Research on peripersonal perception (Brozzoli et al., 2013; Knoblich et al., 2006) – the percep­ tion of phenomena immediately surrounding the body, within peripersonal space (di Pellegrino & Ladavas, 2015) – has shown its multisensory character in sighted people. Neurons that have been shown to register perceptions within peripersonal space code these for multiple sensory qualities, rather than, for example solely vis­ ual features, as is the case with objects seen at a greater distance (Maravita et al., 2003). We assume, as per de Vignemont (2018), that the size and shape of periper­ sonal space vary in relation to a number of factors, including the person’s current

Echo and synchrony

149

and next action, but roughly coincides with Schütz’s world-within-reach – that is within reach of the hand. People who lose vision in adulthood (Hull, 1990) report how they learned to pay greater attention to these multisensory perceptions of the space around them, and to identify not only the physical features of the terrain, but also the motions and actions of other living beings. However, we must avoid the unwarranted assumption that such visual impairment-specific perceptual practices are shared by all visually impaired individuals. It is more likely that these practices differ between people, just as visual impairment itself is experienced in many very different ways (Sacks, 2010). Conclusion In this chapter, we have investigated the repetitive movements (“motor stereo­ typy”; DSM-5, 2013) of a blind child in a small-group music class. Repetitive movements of the type made by this child are not at all uncommon among blind children, but they are more commonly associated with autism. They are one of the criteria by which clinicians diagnose autism (DSM-5, 2013) and may contribute to the greater frequency with which it is diagnosed among blind children compared to their sighted peers. However, rather than seeking a common cause for this behav­ iour across categories of disorder, it is possible, for the time being, to withhold diagnoses and attributions of causes and instead try to document the diversity and variability of repetitive motor behaviours in diverse groups of children. There is potential in inquiring if they are incorporated into the embodied interaction of the ensemble – and if so, how. Studying the heterogenous presentation of repetitive movement forms beyond diagnostic labels is in the spirit of neurodiversity, which moves beyond the medical model of psychopathology, and affirms the existence and value of diverse forms of perceiving the world and others (Silberman, 2017). Originating from the autism rights movement, the term neurodiversity refers to “variation in neurocognitive functioning”, with neurodivergent people being indi­ viduals whose conditions render their neurocognitive functioning significantly dif­ ferent from that of most people (Kapp, 2020). Within this paradigm, both visually impaired and autistic children would be considered neurodivergent, having atypi­ cal but nonetheless meaningful ways of moving, perceiving, and emoting. These children would therefore understand the world in ways that are inextricably differ­ ent from neurotypical children (De Jaeger, 2013). The notion of neurodiversity recognizes and celebrates diverse, embodied modes of experiencing and relating to the natural, cultural, and social world (Sterponi & Chen, 2020). In this view, repetitive behaviour is reframed as a valued, even essen­ tial constituent of a person’s lived experience (Nolan & McBride, 2015). This chap­ ter’s commitment to discovering coordination and interaction in the data – that is without adopting prior theoretical, pathological, and empirical assumptions – means that we have remained analytically open to the multifaceted ways in which repeti­ tive behaviour is not (or perhaps is) part of an interaction. As analysts, and in the

150

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

spirit of neurodiversity, we have therefore been open to unearthing various dimen­ sions of repetitive behaviour as it pertains to being interactionally involved or not. As such, we have shown that all four children in this small class occasionally engage in flamboyant motor behaviours that would be considered atypical in most classrooms but are largely accepted by the teacher in this instance. The child upon whom we focused, Princess, is in a category of her own, because her repetitive movements, especially rocking and jumping up, continue throughout most of the class. We wanted to find out whether these metronomic motions preclude or dimin­ ish Princess’s participation in the interaction, whether these movements show any responsivity to the contextual interactions, and if so, how the group’s communicat­ ing system is able to accommodate them. We have reported three sets of observations that support positive answers to these questions. First, we have shown that despite the apparent formidable regularity of Princess’s repetitive movements, an even closer analysis, using musical measure­ ments and notations, reveals that she does in fact vary the pace of her movements in response to her teacher’s actions and singing. Second, Princess betrays her atten­ tiveness to the “official” classroom talk by verbally echoing others. Furthermore, her echoes fall neatly into the organization of classroom talk, demonstrating her awareness of the unfolding interactional structure. Finally, we have shown that the interacting ensemble as a whole – the communicating system – incorporates Prin­ cess’s repetitive movements as a rhythmic resource for coordination, mimesis, and the lamination of repetitive movements by others. This chapter empirically reveals an unexpected way in which blind children may relate to one another: through coordinating movement forms that are often thought to be solitary. Despite demonstrating moments of attunement and connec­ tion between Princess and others, we are methodologically limited when it comes to capturing other important dimensions, due to the nature of repetitive behaviour in Princess’s lived experience. Based solely on analyzing video data, we are una­ ble to understand how Princess experiences the production of her own repetitive behaviour, or why she might even engage in such movement. We are left to won­ der about the multisensory nature of blind children’s peripersonal spaces. Lastly, as analysts who are not ourselves visually impaired, we are limited in our ability to rely upon a shared embodied experience with our participants. By writing this chapter, we leave ourselves vulnerable to transformation (Chen, 2021; Liberman, 1999) by contemplating dimensions of experience that are different from our own. Notes 1 The literature we have consulted does not report on vocal components of stimming among blind children, which may well be absent. 2 For example, there is an episode when the chair between Princess and Zach, otherwise occupied by Ollie, is empty, but the two children engage in virtually identical tactile ex­ plorations of the print on the front of their respective tee-shirts. It is likely that this is not a coincidence.

Echo and synchrony

151

3 Educators frequently recommend that children who engage in repetitive movements should sit on their hands, to encourage them to remain in one place. 4 “*clap” denotes Princess bringing her hands together.

References American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (5th ed., DSM-5). Arlington, VA: Author. Avital, S., & Streeck, J. (2011). Terra incognita: Social interaction among blind children. In J. Streeck, C. Goodwin & C. LeBaron (Eds.), Embodied Interaction. Language and Body in the Material World (pp. 169–181). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Blake, S. J. (2002). Beating Blindisms (pp. 1–3). Austin, TX: Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired. Blind Children’s Fund. (2017). Blindisms: Strange Behaviors that Have Meaning. Mount Pleasant: The Blind Children’s Fund. Brozzoli, C., Makin, T. R., Cardinali, L., Holmes, N. P., & Farne, A. (2013). Peripersonal space: a multisensory interface for body-object interactions. In M. M. Murray & M. T. Wallace (Eds.), The Neural Bases of Multisensory Processes (pp. 449–466). London: Taylor & Francis. Casey, E. S. (1999). Getting Back into Place. Toward a Renewed Understanding of the Place-World. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Cass, H. (1998). Visual impairment and autism. Current questions and future research. Autism, 2(2), 117–138. Chen, R. S. Y. (2016). The Interactional Dimension of Repetitive Behaviors by Individuals with Autism (Master’s thesis, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore). https://hdl. handle.net/10356/65994 Chen, R. S. Y. (2021). The researcher’s participant roles in ethical data collection of Autistic interaction. Social Interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 4(2). https://doi. org/10.7146/si.v4i2.127298 De Jaeger, H. (2013). Embodiment and sense-making in autism. Frontiers in Integrative Neuroscience, 7(15), 1–19. de Vignemont, F. (2018). Peripersonal perception in action. Synthese, 198, 4027–4044. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11229-018-01962-4 Deppermann, A., & Streeck, J. (2018). The body in interaction: Its multiple modalities and temporalities. In A. Deppermann & J. Streeck (Eds.), Time in Embodied Interaction. Amsterdam: Benjamins. di Pellegrino, G., & Ladavas, E. (2015). Peripersonal space in the brain. Neuropsychologia, 66, 126–133. Dickerson, P., Stribling, P., & Rae, J. (2007). Tapping into interaction: How children with autistic spectrum disorders design and place tapping in relation to activities in pro­ gress. Gesture, 7(3), 271–303. Family Connect for the Blind. (2020). Repetitive Behaviors in Children Who Are Blind or Low Vision: What Are They? Louisville: American Printing House for the Blind. Goffman, E. (1959). The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. New York: Doubleday. Goffman, E. (1974). Frame Analysis. New York: Harper & Row. Goffman, E. (1983). The interaction order. American Sociological Review, 48, 1–17. Goodwin, C. (2018). Co-Operative Action. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hobson, R. P., & Lee, A. (2010). Reversible autism among congenitally blind children? A con­ trolled follow-up study. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 51(11), 1235–1241.

152

Jürgen Streeck and Rachel S. Y. Chen

Hull, J. M. (1990). Touching the Rock. An Experience of Blindness. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. Jure, R., Pogonza, R., & Rapin, I. (2016). Autism spectrum disorders (ASD) in blind chil­ dren: Very high prevalence, potentially better outlook. Journal of Autism and Develop­ mental Disorders, 46, 749–759. Kapp, S. K. (2020). Autistic Community and the Neurodiversity Movement: Stories from the Frontline (p. 330). Singapore: Palgrave Macmillan. Kapp, S. K., Steward, R., Crane, L., Elliott, D., Elphick, C., Pellicano, E., & Russell, G. (2019). ‘People should be allowed to do what they like’: Autistic adults’ views and experi­ ences of stimming. Autism, 23(7), 1782–1792. Knoblich, G., Thomspon, I. M., Gorsjean, M., & Shiffrar, M. (Eds.). (2006). Human Body Perception from the Inside Out. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Liberman, K. (1999). From walkabout to meditation: Craft and ethics in field inquiry. Quali­ tative Inquiry, 5(1), 47–63. Maravita, A., Spence, C., & Driver, J. (2003). Multisensory integration and the body schema: Close to hand and within reach. Current Biology, 13, 531–539. Meyer, C., Streeck, J., & Jordan, J. S. (Eds.). (2017). Intercorporeality: Emerging Socialities in Interaction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Molloy, A., & Rowe, F. J. (2011). Manneristic behaviors of visually impaired children. Stra­ bismus, 19(3), 77–84. Nolan, J., & McBride, M. (2015). Embodied semiosis: Autistic ‘stimming’ as sensory praxis. In P. P. Trifonas (Ed.), International Handbook of Semiotics (pp. 1069–1074). Dordrecht: Springer Science. Ohlsen, R. L. J. (1978). Control of body rocking in the blind through the use of vigorous exercise. Journal of Instructional Psychology, 5(2), 19–22. Prizant, B. M., & Duchan, J. F. (1981). The functions of immediate echolalia in autistic children. Journal of Speech and Hearing Disorders, 46(3), 241–249. Sacks, O. (2010). The mind’s eye. In O. Sacks (Ed.), The Mind’s Eye (pp. 202–239). Lon­ don: Picador. Silberman, R. K. (2014). Blindisms. In C. R. Reynolds, K. J. Vannest, & E. Fletcher-Janzen (Eds.), Encyclopedia of Special Education: A Reference for the Education of Children, Ado­ lescents, and Adults with Disabilities and Other Exceptional Individuals. New York: Wiley. Silberman, S. (2017). Neurotribes: The Legacy of Autism and How to Think Smarter about People Who Think Differently. Atlantic Books. Sinclair, J. (2012). Don’t mourn us. In J. Bascom (Ed.), Loud Hands: Autistic People, Speak­ ing (pp. 15–21). Washington, DC: The Autistic Press. Sterponi, L., & Chen, R. S. Y. (2020). Situating autistic emotionality in interactional, socio­ cultural, and political contexts. In S. E. Pritzker, J. Fenigsen & J. M. Wilce (Eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Language and Emotion (pp. 273–284). New York: Routledge. Sterponi, L., & Shankey, J. (2014). Rethinking echolalia: Repetition as interactional resource in the communication of a child with autism. Journal of Child Language, 41(2), 275–304. Stribling, P., Rae, J., & Dickerson, P. (2007). Two forms of spoken repetition in a girl with autism. International Journal of Language & Communication Disorders, 42(4), 427–444. Streeck, J., Goodwin, C., & LeBaron, C. (2011). Embodied interaction in the material world: An introduction. In J. Streeck, C. Goodwin & C. LeBaron (Eds.), Embodied Interaction. Language and Body in the Material World. New York: Cambridge University Press. Tarplee, C., & Barrow, E. (1999). Delayed echoing as an interactional resource: A case study of a 3-year-old child on the autistic spectrum. Clinical Linguistics & Phonetics, 13(6), 449–482.

Echo and synchrony

153

Vesper, C., van der Wel, R. P. R. D., Knoblich, G., & Sebanz, N. (2011). Making oneself pre­ dictable: Reduced temporal variability facilitates joint action coordination. Experimental Brain Research, 211, 517–530. Wootton, A. J. (1999). An investigation of delayed echoing in a child with autism. First Language, 19(57), 251–259.

8

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections When visually impaired persons

exhibit object understanding

Brian L. Due, Rui Sakaida, Hiro Yuki Nisisawa, and Yasusuke Minami

Introduction A vast majority of the objects in sighted people’s local, material everyday envi­ ronments are fleetingly recognized just by gazing (Sudnow, 1972). Ordinarily, sighted people initially recognize the shape of objects, the distance to objects, the affordances of the objects (or persons), etc. through their prior knowledge of the object and the visual interpretation of the object in unfolding sequences (Rossano et al., 2009). When sighted people encounter new objects, they typically also use resources other than just vision to interpret and understand them, for example by touching, feeling, and smelling them (Mondada, 2018a, 2021). These actions are observable and witnessable for co-participants and hence embedded in social inter­ action. Whereas sighted people constantly use their eyes to monitor and recognize objects, and while sight can do the perceptive work alone, visually impaired per­ sons (VIPs) must always rely on sensorial inputs from senses other than sight to achieve object understanding. For VIP, every object, even the most familiar ones, which are in close proximity, must be grasped without relying on sight (Hull, 2013). Consequently, by studying VIP’s object-related behaviour, we can learn about basic human embodied and haptic sociality in situations in which the material world has direct effects on participants’ lives, and where co-participants cannot anticipate sight as a common sensory resource. Instead, VIPs overwhelmingly rely on touch, haptics, and tactile experiences in combination with the co-participants’ formula­ tions for achieving understanding of the material world (Simone & Galatolo, 2021). We approach haptic perception as an overall concept that describes the experience of sensing the world through touch. As Gibson (1966) showed, haptic perception is active exploration. This can consist of both kinaesthetic sensing of body movement, and tactile sensing, which is the information provided by taking, holding, using, and handling things with the hands, known as the “micromanagement of grasp” (Streeck, 2009, p. 47). In this chapter, we focus on practices of sequentially pro­ gressing from larger embodied scanning to specific actions performed to inspect the details of a particular object, which we term “tactile inspection” (cf. Due, 2021a, p. 146; Hindmarsh et al., 2011, p. 492). For other studies of the intelligibility of haptic perception in instructional sequences, see Due and Lüchow (2023). DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-8

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 155 Based on multimodal and multisensorial ethnomethodological conversation analysis (EM/CA) (Mondada, 2018a, 2019) and video-based ethnographic (Heath et al., 2010) studies of VIP in interaction with instructors in Japan and Denmark, this chapter provides empirical evidence for the following argument: without vis­ ual access, recognizing an object and understanding what it is are instead achieved through detailed, embodied practices of information-gathering that are observable for co-participants, who align with these practices by providing assistive verbal characterizations that facilitate discussion. We will show how object understand­ ing is co-constructed between the VIP and sighted co-participants through the distribution of different forms of displayed perception, for example embodied scanning and inspection, in combination with verbal description (for more on bodily inspection, see Nishizaka, 2011a, 2011b, 2020a). We are interested in how embodied exploring practices of touching and inspecting objects become observ­ able and “exhibit an understanding” (Sacks, 1992, p. 252 (Vol. 2)) of the object, for all practical purposes, and to establish intersubjectivity (Deppermann, 2019; Schutz, 1953). In our analysis of the video data, we have identified the following sequential organization: (1) encountering an object using the arm and the white cane for practices of embodied scanning and verbal characterization; (2) engaging with the object using the hand and fingers for tactile inspection of the object, while the coparticipant provides further characterization; and (3) reaching an exhibited shared understanding of the object through verbal identification and categorization of the object. Scanning is defined as a bodily movement of the arm or the cane (or other detecting tools like e.g. a smartphone (Due et al., forthcoming)), to perceive the existence/nonexistence of objects and their location in close proximity. Embodied scanning of the field is done when searching for obstacles or other objects. Over­ whelmingly, practices of scanning and searching have been described in the EM/ CA tradition as “visually accomplished” (Goodwin, 1994; Heath & Luff, 2007; Streeck, 2017, p. 74). In this study, we show the bodily version of this overall scanning practice. When an object is detected and located, gestural hand actions are used for tactile inspection practices to achieve an understanding of the nature of the object (Goodwin & Smith, 2020). Seeing and touching are fundamentally different perceptive actions. For this reason, it is interesting to study how per­ ception, using different senses and modalities, is distributed among the partici­ pants (Due, 2021a) and used for the cooperative (Goodwin, 2017) construction of understanding of the object. We will show how embodied scanning and tactile inspections are recipient-designed to exhibit a current lack of understanding (cf. Hindmarsh et al., 2011), and in effect ask the co-participants, “What is this?” The co-participants then respond with a characterization that describes the distinctive features of the object, eventually leading to a shared understanding (c.f. Tuncer et al., 2019). We focus on two exemplary single-case analyses and show how the practice of haptic exploration is based on sensorial inputs from touching the object, using tapping movements to bodily provoke sound responses from the object, receiving tactile sensations and feeling the texture of the surface of objects – actions that the

156

Brian L. Due et al.

co-participants closely monitor and to which they respond. Through the analyses of these embodied practices, we emphasize that the sensorial inputs are not just cogni­ tive, private experiences but visible, observable, and accountable, and that the vis­ ible properties of the VIP’s actions invite responses from co-participants. We show that co-participants closely monitor and respond, and thus provide a “substrate” (C. Goodwin, 2017) (e.g. the characterization of the object) from which the VIP can operate to construct object understanding. Based on this argument and the detailed empirical analyses of the two cases, we aim to contribute new knowledge about the communicative nature of haptic explorations and how “perception-related actions” (Due, 2021a, p. 135) are distributed within the local phenomenal field and used to co-construct object understanding. Objects and the communicative nature of the grasping hand As Lucy Suchman has shown in her analyses of “object-centered socialities” (Suchman, 2005; cf. Day & Wagner, 2019; Nevile et al., 2014; Tuncer et al., 2019), the object cannot be separated from the arrangements through which it materializes in practice. Prior studies of VIP from an EM/CA perspective have not specifically focused on objects (except Due & Lüchow, 2023) but on walking and naviga­ tion (Due & Lange, 2018a; Psathas, 1992; Quéré & Relieu, 2001), visiting places (e.g. museums and art galleries (vom Lehn, 2010)), when blind children interact (Avital & Streeck, 2011), when VIPs interact in teams (Hirvonen & Schmitt, 2018) or with guide dogs (Due, 2021b; Mondémé, 2011a), crossing streets and avoiding obstacles (Due & Lange, 2018b, 2018c), participating in indoor climbing, which do involve materials (Simone & Galatolo, 2021), or being engaged with technolo­ gies (Due, 2023a, 2023b; Reyes Cruz, 2021; Reyes-Cruz et al., 2022). However, few EM/CA studies of visual impairment have specifically dealt with how object­ centred sequences, and in particular “inspection sequences” (Mortensen & Wagner, 2019), are accomplished without vision as a common resource (but see Due & Lüchow, 2023). Prior research on “ocularcentric participation frameworks” (Due, 2024) have shown how sight is ordinarily taken for granted as a resource shared by all participants. However, co-operative action is organized in completely different ways when one participant is visually impaired. Our research therefore contrib­ utes new understandings of how inspection sequences can be done purely through tactile inspections, in creative combination with other-provided characterizations (Due, 2022). Tactile inspections are done using the hand. The human hand is not only an organ of action but also one of our most important means of sensing, exploring, and discovering the world around us, as shown by Cuffari and Streeck (2017, p. 175). Features like texture, shape, and temperature may become known through actions of the hands, and in such matters, the hand is superior to sight. Whereas most of the research into touch has been about touching other people (e.g. Nishi­ zaka, 2007; Cekaite, 2016; Goodwin, 2017), a growing body of studies is also con­ cerned with touching objects, like art (Kreplak & Mondémé, 2014), technological objects (Hindmarsh & Heath, 2000a), office/meeting objects (Due, 2016; Hazel &

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 157 Mortensen, 2014), artefacts to be shown in video-mediated settings (Licoppe, 2017), food (Mondada, 2018a; Streeck, 1996), etc. We contribute to this line of research by focusing on the intrinsic properties of what Jürgen Streeck describes as exploratory procedures (2009, p. 53), which differ from practical actions by “their motion patterns, typically showing features such as repetition and rhythmic­ ity or prolonged tactile contact. Their purpose is to discover and identify those features that objects reveal to active touch” (Streeck, 2009, p. 71). The phrase active touch derives from James J. Gibson (1962), while Christine MacKenzie and Thea Iberall (1994) call it the grasping hand. Streeck further emphasizes that objects’ extractable features may be shared with others non-verbally in the act of gesturing, whereby co-participants can infer “invisible features of the object from the visible properties of the act. This multimodality of manual action forms the basis for its communicative potential” (Streeck, 2009, p. 71). Whereas most stud­ ies of objects-in-interaction provide knowledge about the use, the affordances, the orientation towards, and showability of the object, etc. (e.g. Day & Wagner, 2019; Goodwin, 1994; Licoppe, 2017; Luff & Heath, 2019; Nevile et al., 2014; Streeck, 2011), or the specific link to cognition (Lederman & Klatzky, 1987), we contribute new findings about the accountability of objects’ physical properties, as sensorial and multimodal accomplishments that invite accountable next actions based on the forward-looking nature of embodied communication (Streeck & Jordan, 2009), in a context where a participant is visually impaired. Method and dataset This chapter’s analysis of video recordings is informed by video ethnography (Heath et al., 2010) and based on Garfinkel’s (1967a) ethnomethodological work on people’s actual accountable practices, as well as developments within multimodal conversation analysis. The data are from Japan and Denmark, and the participants speak their native languages. The Japanese data deal with situ­ ations in which VIPs are learning to navigate in urban environments. In this case, VIP walks and talks with an instructor who guides and instructs them. The Danish data were collected in a project aimed at developing new proto­ type technology for VIP when navigating (Due et al., 2017). Part of this project involved testing a prototype smartphone app that could detect obstacles using sensor and camera technology (albeit without object-recognition abilities). The videos were recorded during the semi-experimental testing phase, where VIPs were instructed to walk around in an indoor environment populated with differ­ ent kinds of objects. There was no script or protocol, and the actions were natu­ rally organized. The VIPs were not instructed to report back to the researchers in any formalized way, but most of them naturally started commenting on their experiences to the researchers, thereby displaying their orientation to the setting as a test situation. The types of data from the two countries, and the basis on which the cor­ pora were collected, are similar in that they are from institutional settings in which the VIP interacts with a professional in “naturally organized” (Garfinkel,

158

Brian L. Due et al.

1991) situations, in which the key issues are mobility and navigation. In Japan, the professional is an instructor, called an Orientation and Mobility Special­ ist, who rehearses a route with the VIP. In the Danish data, the profession­ als are researchers who interact with the VIPs in the course of conducting experiments. Looking through the corpora, we focused on situations in which VIPs orient towards objects and interact with co-participants in relation to the objects. Obviously, a lot of sensorial experiences in the pursuit of grasping the objects occur naturally when VIP navigates alone or together with other people, without any verbalization. However, we aim to provide examples that show how haptic sensations are not just inner states or phenomenological specula­ tions but also socially displayable, recognizable, and something to which coparticipants can respond within a situated sequential organization. Based on these criteria, we were able to put together a small collection of examples, from which we will show one from Japan and one from Denmark. The two examples provided in this chapter differ, among other things, with respect to setting (out­ door/indoor), purpose (mobility training/technology testing), cultural differ­ ences (Japan/Denmark), participation framework (dyads/multiparty), and with regard to the use of the white cane and ongoing talk (Japan). Despite these dif­ ferences, there is an overall recurrent sequential structure: (1) the VIP encoun­ ters the object using embodied scanning; (2) this person progresses to tactile inspection while co-participants provide characterizations of the object; and (3) this person identifies the object for what it is and exhibits this verbally. Both analyses will be organized according to this sequential structure. The video excerpts have been transcribed following Mondada’s conventions (Mondada, 2018b) for multimodal transcription. The participants signed confidentiality agreements prior to data collection, and the examples have been anonymized according to these agreements. Analysis 1: encountering, inspecting, and identifying a car barrier Encountering the object: embodied scanning and general caution-giving This fragment is from a situation where the VIP (hereafter Ato) encounters a U-shaped metal-pole car barrier (Figure 8.1) for the first time on this route. After crossing a main road, Ato and the Orientation and Mobility Specialist (hereafter Harima) are walking on a wide pedestrian sidewalk. Nine barriers have been installed to prevent cars from driving onto the sidewalk or park­ ing on it. The car barriers are shaped like an inverted U (i.e. ∩). They are 80 centimeters high and 55 centimeters wide and made of metal tubes, 60 millimeters in diameter. The shape and the placement of the car barriers can be hazardous for VIP, because they are hard to detect with canes when walk­ ing, as we will show in the analysis. First, we analyze the sequences leading up to when the VIP physically encounters the U-shaped object. After cross­ ing a main road, Ato and Harima walk on the sidewalk. They talk about the approaching obstacle.

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 159

Figure 8.1 U-shaped car barrier

Excerpt 8.1.1 First characterization 01

HAR har ato

02

ATO

03

de: ee: m ma tokidoki jitensha baiku toka “Then, uh, sometimes, ((in order that)) bicycles or motorcycles” >>looks fwd-->l.08 >>moves cane right and left-->l.10 a:: haihai “Uh yes.” (.)

04

HAR

anmari hashiranai ni (.) ichioo “don’t run too often, indeed,”

05

ATO

hai. “Yes.”

06

HAR

kurumadome mitaina mono wa “things sort of car barriers”

07

ATO

a: hai: “Uh yes.”

08

HAR

aru node (.) nannimo nai wake ja:* “are there, so ((I)) don’t mean that there is nothing ((to be cautious with around here)).”(-> l.10) -->*looks at car barrier-->l.11

har 09

ATO

10

HAR

nai [to (.) ne ha:[i “((You)) don’t ((mean)) that ((there is nothing around here)). Yes.” [naito.(.)

[hai masa+#ni sorega “Yes, that’s exactly ((it)),” ato -->+touches base of CB with cane (R) fig #1

160

Brian L. Due et al.

*+#korega::? “This is...?” +touches base with cane (L) har -->*looks at cane movement-->> fig #2 11

#1

ATO

#2

About 12 seconds prior to the moment when Ato’s cane hits the base of the car barrier for the first time (#1), Harima initiates a turn stating that there is an obstacle ahead (lines 01, 04, 06, 08, and 10). Note that in Japanese, nouns are not marked for single or plural. From Harima’s description, it is not derivable how many obstacles (objects) there are. There could be one or more, which is important to know for the navigation activity. This anticipating statement is con­ structed using different kinds of pragmatic features that can be seen not only as an attempt to describe the obstacle using word search (“uh” line 01) and expres­ sions that do not specify particular locations and objects (“sometimes” line 01, and “things sort of” line 06), but also to project the occurrence of trouble ahead. This anticipation can be divided into three parts: stating the function of the object, naming the object, and a statement of caution-giving. In lines 01 and 03, Harima starts talking about the object by stating the function of the object, which is to pre­ vent bicycles and motorcycles from riding on the sidewalk.1 Following this, she provides a name of the object in line 06. Harima does not specify any particular object. She uses an expression that implies her understanding that the words “car barriers” are not established as a familiar object: “things sort of car barriers”. In other words, this naming is produced in an intentionally vague way, as a general, preparatory announcement. During this statement, Ato displays attention to and alignment with Harima’s utterances by producing minimal responses three times (lines 02, 05, and 07). These responses are nicely fitted to the turn organization, with no overlap or pauses. So far, Ato displays attentiveness to some kind of trou­ ble ahead.

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 161 As Ato keeps walking, his cane hits the base part of the object 3.7 seconds after the completion of Harima’s “is there” comment in line 08. The utterance is a stronger form of caution-giving. Harima also adds an elongation in line 08, leading to Ato’s “terminal item completion” (Lerner, 1996) in line 09. By saying “((you)) don’t ((mean))” (nai), Ato completes Harima’s “that there is nothing ((to be cautious with around here))” (nannimo nai wake ja:). Wake ja nai constitutes a kind of fixed expression in Japanese, “I/you don’t mean that . . .”, which strongly projects how Harima’s unfolding utterance ends. By so doing, Ato displays his understanding that he should be alert for the presence of some obstacle. In line 10, we observe that Harima has apparently waited for Ato’s physical encounter with the object, as she utters the word “exactly” (masani) (line 10) at the moment Ato hits the object with the cane, which is the beginning of the encountering sequence. During the walk, while Harima talks, Ato moves the white cane right and left to detect obstacles in front of him (spanning an area a little wider than his shoul­ ders). These moving actions are visible to the co-participant and can be called embodied scanning, as the cane is literally used to scan the nearby area. This kind of embodied scanning is produced using the cane, and as such is an embodied extension (Merleau-Ponty, 2002). It is a resource for the VIP, but it is also visible to the co-participant. Harima’s incomplete sentence, “Yes, that’s exactly” in line 10 begins exactly when the cane swing is initiated – a movement that will later hit the base of the barrier (#1). It is observable that she watches the trajectory of the cane movement and can tell that the cane is going to hit the object (lines 08–11). We can elaborate that Harima probably anticipates that Ato will have a haptic sensa­ tion from hitting the obstacle. The deixis “that” (sore) is used here to establish the reference to the obstacle. Thus, the embodied scanning, that is the movement of the cane, enables detection of an object and its location. The next sequence starts with Harima’s “that’s exactly ((it))” in line 10. It should be noted that this statement is grammatically incomplete. Harima is heard to have terminated a sentence midway to project the encounter. Excerpt 8.1.2 Encountering the object 09

ATO

nai [to (.) ne ha:[i “((It)) does not ((mean that there is nothing to be cau­ tious with)). Yes.” 10 HAR [naito.(.) [hai masa+#ni sorega “Yes, that’s exactly ((it)),” ato +touches base of CB with cane (R) har >>looks at car barrier--> fig #1 11 ATO *+#korega::? “This is...?” +touches base with cane (L) har -->*looks at cane movement-->> fig #2

162

Brian L. Due et al.

12

+#(0.4) +#(0.2) ato +touches straight metal part with cane (R) ato +touches straight metal part with cane (L) fig #3 #4

#1

#2

#3

#4

Ato’s moving cane first hits the base part on his right side (#1). He then moves the cane to his left and hits the base part on his left (#2). Then he moves the cane back to his right. This time, the cane hits the straight part of the object, making a metallic sound (#3). Ato’s “This is?” (line 11), which is uttered as the cane hits the left base (#2) and the right straight part (#3), marks the moment of having encoun­ tered and located the object. As this utterance is designed with a rising intonation, it can also – especially in combination with the haptic encounter – be understood as inviting Harima to provide some information on the object, for example by com­ pleting the sentence she stopped midway through in line 10. After hitting the straight part on his right, Ato moves the cane to his left. This time, the cane hits the straight part on his left side (#4). He hits the left straight part twice in succession (#4 and #5), and then produces a change of state token in line 13 (Heritage, 1984a). This is produced between hitting the left straight part, which makes two metallic sounds. Harima’s “Yes” in line 14 is an aligning response, confirming that Ato has encountered the object that she has attempted to let him discover. Engaging with the object: tactile inspecting while co-participant provides characterization

Excerpt 8.1.3 Transition from embodied scanning to tactile inspection 13 14

ATO HAR

15

ATO har ato ato ato

[[o [[ha+#i +soo+#yuu +kurumadome mitai[na “Yes, such ((a thing)) sort of a car barrier,” [#>looks at cane movement-->> +touches straight metal part with cane (L) +...+transfers cane to LH +leans down and tries to touch CB with RH-->>

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 163 fig #5 #6 #7 16 ATO =dome> “barrier.”

#5

#6

#7

The token “oh” in line 13 can be understood as displaying that Ato has encoun­ tered not one, but two straight metal poles in front of him. It is notable that prior to this point, Ato has only used the cane and successfully encountered and located (at least part of) the object consisting of two metal poles placed on concrete bases. Using the cane, Ato has made physical contact with the object five times (#1 through #5). For the first two contacts, the cane hits the concrete base parts. The object has two straight poles, so this encountering takes a while. We would argue that this phase constitutes a transition from embodied scanning to tactile inspection. The base is four centimeters in height. Ato’s cane hits a part of the pole that is 20 centimeters tall (#5). Ato has utilized haptic and audio sensations to achieve knowl­ edge about these features. At this stage, we may assume that Ato has a kind of understanding about the U-shaped car barrier, as it is constructed from the ground up, and stands 20–30 centimeters tall (Figure 8.2). He has no information beyond that. Presumably, he does not know that the two poles are connected at the top. Harima’s characterizations of the object are provided after Ato has encountered and established a reference to it (Hindmarsh & Heath, 2000b). Before Harima starts characterizing, Ato begins transferring the cane from his right hand to his left (#6). We consider this movement a transition from embodied scanning with the cane to tactile inspection by hand.

Figure 8.2 Part of U-shaped car barrier that Ato encountered via his cane

164

Brian L. Due et al.

Harima’s characterization in line 14, “sort of car barrier”, is produced using the same words as in line 06. While in line 06 no particular referent had been speci­ fied, “sort of car barrier” in line 14 has a specific referent, indicated by “such”. In line 14, Ato has already encountered and located (at least part of ) the object. With the referent having been established (Hindmarsh & Heath, 2000b), he presumably knows what the characterization applies to. Consequently, Ato repeats a key word from the characterization (“a car barrier”, line 14). While uttering the word slowly, he simultaneously initiates the tactile inspection with his right hand, by leaning down and attempting to reach the object (#7). Exhibiting shared understanding of the object: identifying and categorizing

So far, the instructor, Harima, has provided an initial characterization of the object, and Ato has encountered it for himself. He now proceeds to a more detailed tactile inspection: he bends forward and attempts to reach for the left straight pole, the exist­ ence and location of which he detected using the cane, by producing a metallic sound. Excerpt 8.1.4 Second characterization 16

ATO

=do[me> “barrier.” 17 HAR [+#ko yuuji mi+#ta*i[na “Uh, like the letter U,” 18 ATO [a:+#:: “Oh” har >>looks at cane------*,,, ato +RH starts moving upward ato -->+taps on the top of CB with knuckles ato +taps on the side of the top part of CB with palm four times--> fig #8 #9 #10

#8 19 20

#9 HAR

#10

*hai. “Yes.” har *looks fwd ATO +kono#+ o: +#kore wa nakana+#ka: yakkai desu na. [arya:. “This, this is quite troublesome. That is.”

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 165 ato

-->+....+transfers cane back to RH and swings cane backwards ato +starts walking forward +touches CB with cane fig #11 #12 #13 21 HAR [soodesu. “That’s right.”

#11

#12

#13

Harima turns her head and gazes towards Ato, who is reaching for the lower part of the straight pole (#6–#7). Then she provides a second characterization: “like the letter U” (line 17). While the first characterization (“sort of a car barrier” (line 14)) says nothing about the shape of the object, this second characterization pro­ vides critical information about the shape. The characterization of the “letter U” explicitly states that the two parts are connected at the top and people cannot walk between them. Harima provides this description as a response to the bodily orien­ tation to the object displayed by Ato as he begins inspecting the object/obstacle in detail using his hands, rather than briefly encountering it. While the expression “car barrier” is a characterization concerning the function of the object, “the letter U” describes the shape of the object. For VIP, it is not only an object’s function that is important for safely navigating public environments, but also its exact shape. Interestingly, the correct expression would be an upside-down or inverted letter U. Somehow this knowledge is presumed to be embedded within the situation and interpretable from just mentioning the letter U – or at least, we notice that Ato then inspects the object to recognize it as an inverted letter U. Hearing “letter U”, Ato stops reaching for the “lower” part and instead taps on the top with his right knuckles (#8). This tapping movement presumably produces a metallic sound (which, unfortunately, our microphones did not pick up). This haptic and tactile inspection of the object is accomplished using fine-tuned motor skills in the hand and the fingers. Striking with the knuckles is supposed to produce sound and haptic feedback from the material. If the object is made of a light metal alloy, the sound produced will be high, and the feeling in the hand will be light. If it is made of steel, the sound will be low and the feeling in the hand will be more solid. Thus, we observe how the VIP utilizes the available sensorial resources to grasp not only the existence and spatial placement of the object, but also its shape and material properties. Ato’s tapping with his knuckles works as a confirmation of the position of the top part of the “letter U”. He then taps on the top side with his right palm four times

166

Brian L. Due et al.

(#9–#10). The palm and especially the fingertips are generally more sensitive and provide more detailed sensations of the material (Wolff, 2015). The palm-tapping presumably also enables Ato to grasp the shape of the “U” and the roundness of the pole (60 mm in diameter). It is observable how he bodily touches the material and probably also receives sensations regarding its metallic nature. In this way, we observe how haptic, tactile, and audio sensations are activated. In line 18, after the knuckle-tapping and before the palm taps, Ato utters a change of state token (Endo, 2018). The utterance, combined with the taps, seems to be dis­ playing that he now knows that the object is U-shaped. The change of state token and the palm taps, in particular the first two of the four taps, seem to display both a receipt and a recognition. Harima’s “Yes” in line 19 is a rather formal-sounding receipt. It can be said to constitute the evaluation part of an IRE sequence (Mehan, 1979). The response part consists of Ato’s recognition of the U-shaped object (line 18), while the initiation part can be seen as Harima’s statement (lines 01 through 10), the purpose of which is to make Ato encounter, inspect, and identify the object. Understanding the actions in terms of an IRE sequence is particularly relevant, as this is, after all, a learning and training session between an instructor and a student. Ato’s utterance in line 20 (“This, this is quite troublesome. That is.”) sounds like a summative assessment that sums up the sequences and maintains an align­ ment with Harima. She responds with a formal confirmation: “That’s right” (line 21). This is immediately followed by another warning statement (omitted from the transcript) that confirms Ato’s recognition and displays her satisfaction with that. Thus, to sum up the analysis: the recognition of the object is achieved not only through the verbal accounts provided initially by Harima, but through the wording in combination with the embodied scanning and inspection. This is observable in the way – as a response to the characterization – Ato changes the embodied exploration, from scanning to locate the object, to inspecting it to identify its shape (#6–9) as a U. This analysis has shown how the VIP first produces an embodied scanning, then progresses to more detailed, embodied haptic and tactile inspection, which is observable to the co-participant, who consequently provides a more appropriate characterization of the object. We will now move on to the next case. Although it involves a completely different setting and type of institutional activity than the first example, the practices – including the sequential structure and embodied actions of co-constructing recognition of the object – are systematically accom­ plished in the same way. Analysis 2: encountering, inspecting, and identifying a ladder on the wall This excerpt is from a semi-experimental setting in which the VIP, Beth, is testing how a smartphone with a computer vision app detects obstacles. She is walking around unguided, encountering different objects (see Figure 3). Her overall task in this experi­ ment is to use the app for obstacle detection. The app can detect distance to material structure but has no object-recognition function. When Beth is close to something, the app responds by producing a sound. Understanding what the object is must be obtained through means other than this app. The experiment is conducted indoors, and in this

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 167 excerpt, Beth is approaching a wall, which the device has detected and is producing audio feedback. Beth is receiving audible input from the device through a bone-conduc­ tor earphone. Only she can hear the input, which is designed to work like a “car parking sensor”, in that the closer she gets to an obstacle, the louder the sound it produces. The device measures distances to objects and can provide very detailed audible feedback about the nearby material landscape. The analysis will show how the participants co­ operate to identify particular objects – in this instance, two ladders mounted horizon­ tally on the wall – through embodied scanning and tactile inspection. Encountering the object: embodied scanning and first characterizations

Excerpt 8.2.1 Can’t figure that out 1. Beth

+me:get til# højre+# [(3.0)] og +lidt fremme# much more to the right and a little further + walks slowly tw. wall -> + +arm sweeps right+ Fig fig1 #fig2 #fig3 2. Anna [h. ehhehe]

Figure 1

Figure 2

Figure 3

3. Beth:

+>og det kan jeg så #ik finde ud af># >and I can’t figure that out< + raises arm and hits ladder --> Fig #fig4 #fig5 4. om det er e:n eller++ to ting der’+ if it is one or two things here´ -->+ +sweeps arm +

Figure 4

Figure 5

Figure 6

Figure 7

168

Brian L. Due et al.

5.

+#(0.4) +#(0.9) + +hits the ladder makes a sound+ +touches and moves hand up the ladder+ Fig. #fig6 #fig7

In line 1, Beth is reporting about the input she is receiving and how she interprets it. The verbal reporting: “much more to the right and a little further” (l. 1) refers to what the device is detecting, which she reports to the researchers. Anna responds with a minimal laugh (l. 2). However, Beth is not only relying on audio-sensorial input from the device but stretches out her arm to scan and detect the obstacle (#2). The device is possibly detecting both the white fabric hanging down behind her to the right and the wall/ladders straight ahead. Since the device only begins to detect and provide feedback when it is within one meter of an object, Beth is already facing the wall/ladders when she receives the sounds from the device. However, she does not touch anything with her right gesturing arm, because she has moved forward slightly, and the object (the fabric) is very thin and behind her. She lowers her arm again (#3). The lack of physical contact with any object prompts her to take another step forward and then report trouble related to interpreting the input from the device: “>and I can’t figure that out< if it is one or two things here´” (l. 3–4). This is recipient-designed as a declarative description of her trouble interpreting the input from the device, specifically the trouble with locating and determining the charac­ ter of the object(s). By using the words “that”, and again the word “it” (in Danish, the same word (“det”) is used for both), she produces an indexical reference to what the device is registering. As such, in this first part of the sequence, Beth is concerned with interpreting the sound input from the device and reporting to the co-participants how she has trouble interpreting the input from the device, that is the object it is detecting. Prompted by the displayed uncertainty (“can’t figure that out”, l. 3) regarding the input from the device, she moves slightly forward while producing more sustained embodied scanning. As Beth moves forward and raises her arm again, she hits the ladder/wall (Fig­ ure 4). She then sweeps her arm and hits the ladder/wall again, making an audible sound (l. 5, Figures 5–7). Just as we saw in the previous case, where the VIP used the white cane for sweeping, thereby scanning the area to locate the mentioned object, Beth sweeps her arm back and forth to locate the object. In this case, however, the object has not previously been mentioned, so Beth has no prior knowledge about the object’s existence, and therefore its characteristics. She produces a self-cutoff in the moment she hits the ladder with her arm, making a loud sound (l. 5, #6). The object’s physical structure consists of separate pieces of wood attached to the wall. She first touches a rung that is part of the lower hanging ladder (#4), and then the same rung again (#6) as part of the sweeping embodied scanning. After she has gained information about the spatial location of the object via the embodied scanning, we notice how she shifts to a more detailed embodied inspection: instead of sweeping her arm, she moves her hand upwards and touches the rail part of the lower ladder (#7). To sum up, Beth first reports trouble interpreting the feedback from the device, then uses bodily scanning (sweeping her arm) to locate the object. Then, when

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 169 she encounters the object, she begins to inspect it in more detail using her hand. Although the co-participants, and we as analysts, know it is a ladder, Beth, being VIP and also blindfolded, has no idea about the characteristics of the object. In what follows, a characterization is therefore produced in conjunction with a tactile inspection. Engaging with the object: tactile inspecting and co-participant provides characterization

Excerpt 8.2.2 The wall 6. Anna: Fig 7. 8. Fig

de:t+#↓’øhh + tha:t↓´eh +grabs both ladders’ rails+ #fig8 (0.6) +>væggen#< + >the wall< +moves hand tw. left along the rails + +fingers wandering and touches 3 steps+ #fig9

Figure 8

Figure 9

9.

+(0.3) # + +moves hand back touching steps+ Fig #fig10 10. hehehi€[he:]+ # + €looks tw. Bo€ +moves hand down along a step+ 11. Bo: [heh] fig #fig11

Figure 10

Figure 11

Figure 12

Figure 13

170

Brian L. Due et al.

+er det væggen#↑= is that the wall↑= +. . . turns head left tw Anna ---> +. . . moves hand upward ---> 13. Anna: =det’€+er€ #væggen ehehøhii + =it is the wall ehehhehii +taps with fingers on rail (makes a sound)+ €nods€ fig #fig12 14. Beth: +det er en sjov +#væg hmhehe it is a funny wall hmhehe +. . . start turning head tw. ladder ---> +slides hand tr. along rail fig #fig13 12. Beth:

In lines 6–8, Anna provides a description of the object using indexical terms that refer to the local, spatial, and material ecology: “tha:t↓´eh >the wallthe wall Beth: +moves hand back and down to home position--> fig #fig15 #fig16 #fig17

Figure 14 16.

Figure 15

Beth:

Figure 16

+°eller sådan noget° °or something° €--> +-->

Figure 17

172

Brian L. Due et al.

17. Bo:

fig

Figure 18

#nej det er sti:ger no it is ladders €--> +--> #fig18

Figure 19

Figure 20

nå↑ #+det er stiger↑ oh↑ it is ladders↑ +moving hand left, touching rungs on ladder, making a noise Fig #fig19 19. Beth: °det er stiger°# °it is ladders° +--> Fig #fig20 18. Anna:

As a response to Beth’s assessment about the wall being “funny”, Anna provides a more detailed description of the object: “yes↓ it is kind of’ (.) I think it is a slat wall °or something°” (l. 15–16). Anna’s characterization of the object is produced with an epistemically downgrading word choice (“I think”). Simultaneously, Beth is performing a tactile inspection: she moves her hand along the object, presum­ ably receiving tactile sensations regarding its shape and texture. This continued inspection, after having received the elaborated characterization of the object, may be seen as an attempt to reach a more comprehensive understanding (# 14–#17), thus also making further characterization relevant. At this point, Bo, the second researcher, responds and provides a more precise characterization: “no it is lad­ ders” (l. 17), to which both Anna and Beth immediately respond. In response to Bo’s turn, Anna produces a change of state token (Heritage, 1984a): “oh↑ it is lad­ ders↑” (l. 18), then Beth says: “°it is ladders°” (l. 19). This displays a shift in the dominant category from the object being a wall (or slat wall) to being ladders, and in this process all participants exhibit an understanding of the object. Together, all three participants have been constructing a “shared” characterization of the object. Beth’s bodily exploration through scanning and inspecting prompted Anna, and then Bo, to provide the characterization of the object. Discussion In this chapter, we have shown how locating and identifying an object is achieved as a co-constructed, coordinated, and co-operative activity based on the VIP’s embodied scanning and tactile inspection, in combination with the co-participants’

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 173 verbal characterizations of the object. We have identified several interesting pat­ terns in these two quite diverse examples, which reveal some of the more basic features of VIP’s everyday lives, as they struggle to understand the visual, material world of “object-centered socialities” (Suchman, 2005; cf. Knorr-Cetina, 1997) in the presence of other people who can provide assistance. Through two very differ­ ent settings, we showed the orderly organization of an overall sequential structure, progressing from (1) encountering the object using embodied scanning and pro­ viding first characterizations; to (2) engaging with the object using tactile inspec­ tions while co-participants provide characterizations; and to (3) the final exhibited shared understanding of the object by identifying it for what it is (in Japan, the car barrier/the letter U; in Denmark, the wall/ladder). Deictic terms and embodied actions are central for achieving shared understand­ ing of objects in the world. For VIP in particular, the indexicality of object-directed social interaction is extremely important. In the analysis, deictic words (“that”, “this”) were seen to play a significant role in directing attention not only to the object but to specific constitutive parts of the object. In the first example, from Japan, the VIP is offered a candidate verbal characterization of the object before he encounters it. In the second example, from Denmark, the VIP knows from the initial framing of the situation that there are obstacles around her, but she has to inspect the objects for herself before a verbal characterization is offered. Although the VIPs’ knowledge of their environments prior to the encounters were different, we cannot see any observable differences in the data regarding the object-directed behaviour. In both cases, the VIP’s tactile inspections – the use of the hand and fingers to inspect the object – seem to function as an embodied form of “request” for more information about the object, in the form of the second characterizations. At least, in both cases the co-participants can be seen to treat the scanning and inspection as part of an exploration aimed at locating and identifying the object. The co-participants provide identification by means of verbal characterizations. In conjunction with the tactile inspection, the VIPs were also seen to produce verbal actions. In the first example, the VIP repeated words used by the instructor (e.g. “a car barrier” (l. 15–16)). In the second example, the VIP repeated the words “the wall” (l. 12), characterizing the object and requesting concrete specification. In both cases, the co-participants treated the turns as first pair parts to which they responded with a second pair part, providing a more precise characterization. As part of these transitions, we also observed a change in the characterization of the object, from broader and unspecified characterizations to ones that better fit the presumed tactile sensations the VIP is experiencing in the transition from car bar­ rier to U-shape (JP), and from wall to ladder (DK). In both cases, it was observ­ able that the reformulated characterization was embedded within the transition from embodied scanning used to locate the object to the tactile inspection used to rec­ ognize and identify it. There are substantial differences between just locating an object in space and understanding in more detail what the object is, which relate to the differences in the practices we have described as transitions from practices of embodied scanning to tactile inspection. As shown in this chapter, tactile inspec­ tion is specifically performed on the object with the hands, using fingers, the palm,

174

Brian L. Due et al.

and the knuckles (to knock and receive audible input), which Gibson (1962) calls “active” or “dynamic touch”. These include movements of tactile exploration such as scanning and inspecting, which are performed to locate and identify an object’s shape and texture. A central part of inspecting is what Lederman and Klatzky call “contour following” (1987), that is temporal organization. To extract the features of an object, we must move our fingers so that the stimulus changes over time. This movement, rather than the static pointing or holding, is itself a communicative action that conveys something entirely different from “static contact”. It is apparent from the analyses that the hands are, in Streeck’s words, “data-gathering devices” (Streeck, 2009, p. 69). Feeling the temperature and the texture of the surface is based on tactile sensations, while tapping movements and feeling the reaction are based on haptic sensations and the sense of hearing. However, these multisensations are not just private experiences but are also displayed in social interaction. The tac­ tile inspection has publicly available properties, namely the distinct motions of the hands. We have shown in the analyses that these embodied actions are accountable in the sense that the co-participants respond to them in subsequent turns, providing verbal characterizations. Recognizing an object and its affordances is crucial for human sociality. Sighted people fleetingly recognize known objects like a metal U-shaped car barrier on a sidewalk or a ladder hanging on a wall (the examples in this chapter) as “familiar, ordinary” (Garfinkel, 1996, n. 14). However, as we have shown, for VIP, objectrecognition and understanding of even these familiar objects require substantial embodied, communicative, and cooperative (Goodwin, 2017) work. The objects are unfamiliar until they are recognized in situ for what they are, and then recognizably treated as familiar (Mortensen & Wagner, 2019). Competent adult VIP who lives in the social world presumably know about car barriers and ladders, but knowing right where these objects are, and precisely what affordances they have right here and now are highly important for the accomplishment of relevant activity. The practices of embodied scanning and tactile inspection have been highlighted as particularly apparent in this dataset, but these practices are not restricted to VIP. Rather, this kind of “extreme” data reveals general aspects of human sociality. As shown in a few new research publications (Mondada, 2019, p. 13), participants can bodily orient to objects, point at them, make relevant their visible, tactile character and orchestrate joint attention towards them. They can also engage in sensorial exploration and inspection through detailed practices of touching, feeling, receiv­ ing tactile input, etc. Illustrative examples of these more generative aspects of nonvisual interaction (among sighted persons) can be found in the work of Nishizaka (2020b) on guid­ ing touch, and the sequential organization of feeling a fetus in Japanese midwifery practices, and in Jenkings’s study of sighted climbers who cannot see the objects their hands touch, and so engage with a spotter (an “assistant”) in collaboratively describing and negotiating handholds on a piece of rock (see also Mondada’s chapter in this book). On a more general note, then, we can infer that some of the practices displayed by VIP may be generic in their local circumstantial details.

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 175 For example, the description of the transition from haptics to verbal description, and vice-versa (Due & Lüchow, 2023), as studied and described in this chapter, might be relevant for human activities in general. Sensorial attention to mate­ rial structure can occur in silence, but it is still sequentially consequential for the progressivity of the action, including verbal exchanges, and is seen as such by the co-participants. Note 1 This is thought to be a misunderstanding on the part of the instructor.

References Avital, S., & Streeck, J. (2011). Terra Incognita: Social Interaction among Blind Children. In J. Streeck, C. Goodwin, & C. D. LeBaron (Eds.), Embodied Interaction. Language and Body in the Material World (pp. 169–181). Cambridge University Press. Cekaite, A. (2016). Touch as Social Control: Haptic Organization of Attention in Adult– Child Interactions. Journal of Pragmatics, 92, 30–42. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. pragma.2015.11.003 Cetina, K. K. (1997). Sociality with Objects: Social Relations in Postsocial Knowledge Socie­ ties. Theory, Culture & Society, 14(4), 1–30. https://doi.org/10.1177/026327697014004001 Cuffari, E., & Streeck, J. (2017). Taking the World by Hand: How (Some) Gestures Mean. In Intercorporeality: Emerging Socialities in Interaction. Oxford University Press. www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780190210465.001.0001/ acprof-9780190210465-chapter-7 Day, D., & Wagner, J. (Eds.). (2019). Objects, Bodies and Work Practice. Multilingual Matters. Deppermann, A. (2019). Intersubjectivity and Other Grounds for Action-Coordination in an Environment of Restricted Interaction: Coordinating with Oncoming Traffic When Passing an Obstacle. Language & Communication, 65, 22–40. https://doi.org/10.1016/j. langcom.2018.04.005 Due, B., Kupers, R., Lange, S., & Ptito, M. (2017). Technology Enhanced Vision in Blind and Visually Impaired Individuals. CIRCD Working Papers in Social Interaction, 3(1), 1–31. Due, B. L. (2016). Co-Constructed Imagination Space: A Multimodal Analysis of the Inter­ actional Accomplishment of Imagination during Idea-Development Meetings. CoDesign, 14(3), 1–17. https://doi.org/10.1080/15710882.2016.1263668 Due, B. L. (2021a). Distributed Perception: Co-Operation between Sense-Able, Actionable, and Accountable Semiotic Agents. Symbolic Interaction, 44(1), 134–162. https://doi. org/10.1002/symb.538 Due, B. L. (2021b). Interspecies Intercorporeality and Mediated Haptic Sociality: Distribut­ ing Perception with a Guide Dog. Visual Studies, 1–14. https://doi.org/10.1080/14725 86X.2021.1951620 Due, B. L. (2022). Situated Co-Operative Creativity. Pragmatics and Society, 13(4), 684–702. Due, B. L. (2023a). Guide Dog Versus Robot Dog: Assembling Visually Impaired People with Non-Human Agents and Achieving Assisted Mobility Through Distributed Co-Con­ structed Perception. Mobilities, 18(1), 148–166. https://doi.org/10.1080/17450101.2022. 2086059

176

Brian L. Due et al.

Due, B. L. (2023b). A Walk in the Park with Robodog: Navigating Around Pedestri­ ans Using a Spot Robot as a “Guide Dog”. Space and Culture. https://doi.org/10.1177/ 12063312231159215 Due, B. L. (2024). Ocularcentric Participation Frameworks: Dealing with a Blind Member’s Perspective. In P. Haddington, T. Eilittä, A. Kamunen, L. Kohonen-Aho, T. Oittinen, L. Rautiainen, & A. Vatanen (Eds.), Ethnomethodological Conversation Analysis in Motion: Emerging Methods and New Technologies (pp. 63–82). Routledge. Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018a). Semiotic Resources for Navigation: A Video Ethno­ graphic Study of Blind People’s Uses of the White Cane and a Guide Dog for Navigating in Urban Areas. Semiotica, 2018(222), 287–312. https://doi.org/10.1515/sem-2016-0196 Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018b). The Moses Effect: The Spatial Hierarchy and Joint Accomplishment of a Blind Person Navigating. Space and Culture, 21(2), 129–144. https://doi.org/10.1177/1206331217734541 Due, B. L., & Lange, S. B. (2018c). Troublesome Objects: Unpacking Ocular-Centrism in Urban Environments by Studying Blind Navigation Using Video Ethnography and Ethnomethodology. Sociological Research Online, 24(4), 475–495. https://doi. org/10.1177/1360780418811963 Due, B. L., & Lüchow, L. (2023). The Intelligibility of Haptic Perception in Instructional Sequences: When Visually Impaired People Achieve Object Understanding. Human Stud­ ies, 46, 163–182. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10746-023-09664-8 Endo, T. (2018). The Japanese Change-of-State Tokens a and aa in Responsive Units. Jour­ nal of Pragmatics, 123, 151–166. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2017.06.010 Garfinkel, H. (1967a). Studies in Ethnomethodology. Prentice Hall. Garfinkel, H. (1991). Respecification: Evidence for Locally Produced, Naturally Accountable Phenomena of Order, Logic, Reason, Meaning, Methods, etc. in and of the Essential Haec­ ceity of Immortal Ordinary Society (I) – An Announcement of Studies. In G. Button (Ed.), Ethnomethodology and the Human Sciences (pp. 10–19). Cambridge University Press. Garfinkel, H. (1996). Ethnomethodology’s Program. Social Psychology Quarterly, 59(1), 5–21. Gibson, J. J. (1962). Observations on Active Touch. Psychological Review, 69, 477–491. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0046962 Gibson, J. J. (1966). The Senses Considered as Perceptual Systems. Houghton Mifflin. Goodwin, C. (1994). Professional Vision. American Anthropologist, 96(3), 606–633. https:// doi.org/10.1525/aa.1994.96.3.02a00100 Goodwin, C., & Smith, M. S. (2020). Calibrating Professional Perception through Touch in Geological Fieldwork. In Touch in Social Interaction. Routledge. Goodwin, M. H. (2017). Haptic Sociality: The Embodied Interactive Constitution of Intimacy through Touch. In C. Meyer, J. Streeck, & J. S. Jordan (Eds.), Intercorpo­ reality: Emerging Socialities in Interaction (pp. 73–102). Oxford University Press. www.oxfordscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780190210465.001.0001/ acprof-9780190210465-chapter-4 Hazel, S., & Mortensen, K. (2014). Embodying the Institution: Object Manipulation in Developing Interaction in Study Counselling Meetings. Journal of Pragmatics, 65, 10–29. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2013.11.016 Heath, C., Hindmarsh, J., & Luff, P. (2010). Video in Qualitative Research. SAGE. Heath, C., & Luff, P. (2007). Gesture and Institutional Interaction: Figuring Bids in Auctions of Fine Art and Antiques. Gesture, 7(2), 215–240. Heritage, J. (1984a). A Change of State Token and Aspects of Its Sequential Placement. In J. M. Atkinson & J. Heritage (Eds.), Structures of Social Action. Studies in Conversation Analysis (pp. 299–345). Cambridge University Press.

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 177 Hindmarsh, J., & Heath, C. (2000a). Sharing the Tools of the Trade: The Interactional Con­ stitution of Workplace Objects. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 29(5), 523–562. Hindmarsh, J., & Heath, C. (2000b). Embodied Reference: A Study of Deixis in Work­ place Interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 32(12), 1855–1878. https://doi.org/10.1016/ S0378-2166(99)00122-8 Hindmarsh, J., Reynolds, P., & Dunne, S. (2011). Exhibiting Understanding: The Body in Apprenticeship. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(2), 489–503. Hirvonen, M. I., & Schmitt, R. (2018). Blindheit als Ressource: Zur professionellen Kompe­ tenz eines blinden Teammitglieds bei der gemeinsamen Anfertigung einer Audiodeskrip­ tion. Gesprächsforschung, 19, 449–477. Kreplak, Y., & Mondémé, C. (2014). Artworks as Touchable Objects. In M. Nevile, P. Had­ dington, T. Heinemann, & M. Rauniomaa (Eds.), Interacting with Objects: Language, Materiality, and Social Activity (pp. 295–318). John Benjamins Publishing. https://benja­ mins.com/#catalog/books/z.186.13kre/details Lederman, S. J., & Klatzky, R. L. (1987). Hand Movements: A Window Into Haptic Object Recognition. Cognitive Psychology, 19(3), 342–368. https://doi.org/10.1016/ 0010-0285(87)90008-9 Lerner, G. H. (1996). On the Semi-Permeable Character of Grammatical Units in Conver­ sation: Conditional Entry into the Turn Space of Another Participant. In E. Ochs, E. A. Schegloff, & S. A. Thomson (Eds.), Interaction and Grammar (pp. 238–276). Cambridge University Press. Licoppe, C. (2017). Showing Objects in Skype Video-Mediated Conversations: From Showing Gestures to Showing Sequences. Journal of Pragmatics, 110, 63–82. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.pragma.2017.01.007 Luff, P. K., & Heath, C. (2019). Visible Objects Of Concern: Issues and Challenges for Workplace Ethnographies in Complex Environments. Organization. https://doi. org/10.1177/1350508419828578 MacKenzie, C. L., & Iberall, T. (1994). The Grasping Hand (pp. xvii, 482). North-Holland/ Elsevier Science Publishers. Mehan, H. (1979). Learning Lessons: Social Organization in the Classroom (1st edition). Harvard University Press. Merleau-Ponty, M. (2002). Phenomenology of Perception. Routledge. Mondada, L. (2018a). The Multimodal Interactional Organization of Tasting: Prac­ tices of Tasting Cheese in Gourmet Shops. Discourse Studies. https://doi.org/10.1177/ 1461445618793439 Mondada, L. (2018b). Multiple Temporalities of Language and Body in Interaction: Chal­ lenges for Transcribing Multimodality. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 51(1), 85–106. https://doi.org/10.1080/08351813.2018.1413878 Mondada, L. (2019). Contemporary Issues in Conversation Analysis: Embodiment and Materiality, Multimodality and Multisensoriality in Social Interaction. Journal of Prag­ matics, 145, 47–62. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2019.01.016 Mondada, L. (2021). Sensing in Social Interaction: The Taste for Cheese in Gourmet Shops. Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108650090 Mondémé, C. (2011a). Animal as Subject Matter for Social Sciences: When Linguistics Addresses the Issue of a Dog’s “Speakership.” In P. Gibas, K. Pauknerová, & M. Stella (Eds.), Non-humans in Social Science: Animals, Spaces, Things (pp. 87–105). Pavel Mervart. Mortensen, K., & Wagner, J. (2019). Inspection Sequences – Multisensorial Inspections of Unfamiliar Objects. Gesprächsforschung – Online-Zeitschrift Zur Verbalen Interaktion, 20, 399–343.

178

Brian L. Due et al.

Nevile, M., Haddington, P., Heinemann, T., & Rauniomaa, M. (Eds.). (2014). Interacting with Objects: Language, Materiality, and Social Activity. John Benjamins Publishing Company. https://benjamins.com/#catalog/books/z.186/main Nishizaka, A. (2007). Hand Touching Hand: Referential Practice at a Japanese Midwife House. Human Studies, 30(3), 199–217. Nishizaka, A. (2011a). Touch Without Vision: Referential Practice in a Non-Technological Environment. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(2), 504–520. Nishizaka, A. (2011b). The Embodied Organization of a Real-Time Fetus: The Visible and the Invisible in Prenatal Ultrasound Examinations. Social Studies of Science. http://jour­ nals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0306312710386842 Nishizaka, A. (2020a). Multi-Sensory Perception during Palpation in Japanese Midwifery Practice. Social Interaction. Video-Based Studies of Human Sociality, 3(1), Article 1. https://doi.org/10.7146/si.v3i1.120256 Nishizaka, A. (2020b). Guided Touch: The Sequential Organization of Feeling a Fetus in Japanese Midwifery Practices. In A. Cekaite & Mondada (Eds.), Touch in Social Interac­ tion (pp. 224–249). Routledge. Psathas, G. (1992). The Study of Extended Sequences: The Case of the Garden Lesson. In G. Watson & R. M. Seiler (Eds.), Text in Context: Contributions to Ethnomethodology (pp. 99–122). SAGE. Quéré, L., & Relieu, M. (2001). Modes de locomotion et inscription spatiale des inégalités. Les déplacements des personnes atteintes de handicaps visuels et moteurs dans l’esplace public. Rapport de Recherche. Convention Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales/ Ministère de l’équipement, du transport et du logement-Direction générale de l’urbanisme, de l’habitat et de la construction, CEMS-EHESS, Paris. Relieu, M. (1994). Les catégories dans l’action. L’apprentissage des traversées de rue par des non-voyants [Categories in Action. Blind Persons Learning to Cross the Street]. Rai­ sons Pratiques. L’enquête Sur Les Categories, 5, 185–218. Reyes Cruz, G. (2021). Designing to Support and Extend the Competencies of People with Visual Impairments. In Extended Abstracts of the 2021 CHI Conference on Human Fac­ tors in Computing Systems (pp. 1–6). Association for Computing Machinery. https://doi. org/10.1145/3411763.3443425 Reyes-Cruz, G., Fischer, J. E., & Reeves, S. (2022). Demonstrating Interaction: The Case of Assistive Technology. ACM Transactions on Computer-Human Interaction. https://doi. org/10.1145/3514236 Rossano, F., Brown, P., & Levinson, S. C. (2009). Gaze, Questioning, and Culture. In J. Sid­ nell (Ed.), Conversation Analysis: Comparative Perspectives (pp. 187–250). Cambridge University Press. Simone, M., & Galatolo, R. (2021). Timing and Prosody of Lexical Repetition: How Repeated Instructions Assist Visually Impaired Athletes’ Navigation in Sport Climbing. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 54(4), 397–419. https://doi.org/10.1080/0 8351813.2021.1974742 Streeck, J. (1996). How to Do Things with Things. Human Studies, 19(4), 365–384. Streeck, J. (2009). Gesturecraft: The Manu-facture of Meaning. John Benjamins Publishing Company. http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/kbdk/detail.action?docID=622612 Streeck, J. (2011). The Changing Meanings of Things: Found Objects and Inscriptions in Social Interaction. In J. Streeck, C. Goodwin, & C. LeBaron (Eds.), Embodied Interac­ tion: Language and Body in the Material World (pp. 67–78). Cambridge University Press.

From embodied scanning to tactile inspections 179 Streeck, J. (2017). Self-Making Man: A Day of Action, Life, and Language. Cambridge Uni­ versity Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/9781139149341 Streeck, J., & Jordan, J. S. (2009). Projection and Anticipation: The Forward-Looking Nature of Embodied Communication. Discourse Processes, 46(2), 93. https://doi. org/10.1080/01638530902728777 Suchman, L. (2005). Affiliative Objects. Organization, 12(3), 379–399. https://doi.org/ 10.1177/1350508405051276 Sudnow, D. (1972). Temporal Parameters of Interpersonal Observation. In D. Sudnow (Ed.), Studies in Social Interaction (pp. 259–279). Free Press. Tuncer, S., Licoppe, C., & Haddington, P. (2019). When Objects Become the Focus of Human Action and Activity: Object-Centred Sequences in Social Interaction. Gesprächs­ forschung – Online-Zeitschrift Zur Verbalen Interaktion, 20. vom Lehn, D. (2010). Discovering ‘Experience-ables’: Socially Including Visually Impaired People in Art Museums. Journal of Marketing Management, 26(7–8), 749–769. https:// doi.org/10.1080/02672571003780155 Wolff, C. (2015). The Human Hand. Routledge.

9

Assembling compositions Visually impaired people and the experience of art in museums Dirk vom Lehn

Introduction Art museums prioritize visual experiences over other sensory experiences. They display works of visual art for visitors to examine and experience by looking at them. Additional information about the works is provided on wall-mounted labels near the exhibits and through mobile devices, such as audio-guides and tablet computers. These resources offer visitors information related to the exhib­ its, but they do not overcome the mandatory physical distance between the visi­ tors and the works. Museums’ physical distancing rules, as made visible through security wires or lines drawn on the floor, stop people from touching or access­ ing the works in ways other than looking. Thus, they reinforce the preference of vision over the other senses. To experience art exhibitions, visually impaired per­ sons (VIP) therefore largely rely on information provided in Braille, via audioguides or audio-descriptive displays, or given by sighted companions or museum guides.1 In 2006, the National Portrait Gallery in London organized a multisensory exhibition that abandoned the physical distancing rule and encouraged visitors to examine works of art not only by looking at them, but also by touching them and feeling their surface. During the workshop at which I collected my video-data, VIP explored the gallery together with a sighted companion. From related research, we know that when (sighted) people examine works of art together, what they look at and how they see it emerges in interaction between them (vom Lehn and Heath, 2007; Christidou, 2018). In this chapter, I will explore how people with differential sensory access make sense of works of art as they interact in front of them. While one might assume that the sighted participants serve as guides for the VIP, the analysis shows that sighted participants also use the VIP’s tactile and vocal actions to access aspects of the exhibition.2 In the analysis, we will see that while the VIP and their sighted companions have differential access to the works of art, they are able to produce an intersubjective experience of the pieces in interaction with each other. Before turning to the analysis, I will briefly examine related literature on interaction in museums.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-9

Assembling compositions

181

Interaction in museums Previous research on art perception has been preoccupied with the individual as a viewer or spectator of works of art. To a large extent, this research has been based on theories about the relationship between the aesthetic qualities of works of art and the functioning of the human brain (Arnheim, 1974; Ramachandran and Hirstein, 1999; Shimamura, 2015; in a different way, Livingstone, 2008). Because this research is primarily interested in learning about the brain by examining how our visual and cognitive apparatus responds to works of art, these studies are undertaken “out of context”, in laboratories or in fMRI scanners. A related body of studies has emerged through cooperation between psychologists of art and art historians. These researchers use eye-tracking systems to explore the relationship between art theory and the ways in which people look at artworks. Their principal concern lies in the relationship between art-theoretical ideas about the structure of works of art and how people actually look at the pieces (Brieber et al., 2014; Leder et al., 2019). They have also begun to undertake research into whether and how the different modes of looking (and seeing) that have emerged in different cultural environments influence people’s examination of artworks, and how different types of artwork influence or even “irritate” accustomed modes of looking and seeing (Brinkmann, 2021a, 2021b, 2022). In addition to these studies of art perception via a lens of looking and seeing, using eye-trackers and brain scanners, or a combination of eye trackers and body sensors (Tröndle et al., 2012), some research also explores the aesthetic experi­ ence by conducting interviews with art experts, including curators and gallery visi­ tors. For example, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Rick Robinson (1990) conducted interviews with gallery curators about the various exhibition features that facilitate aesthetic experiences. Bruder and Ucok (2000) shift the focus from the exhibits and their features to the viewers inspecting the works. By examining visitors’ talk about art elicited by interviewers, they begin to reveal how encounters with works of art reflect on people’s identity. Drawing on Bourdieu, Nina Zahner (2021), who uses “go-along interviews” (Kusenbach, 2003) with visitors, conceives art perception as a “social practice” and explores how people make sense of works of art through talk in front of exhibits (cf. Reitstätter and Fineder, 2021; Zahner and Schürkmann, 2021). In these studies, researchers explore galleries together with a visitor and ask them questions to elicit reports of their experience of the works of art. They analyze the content of the talk in its relationship to the content and structure of the work of art and people’s sense of self (Bruder and Ucok, 2000) or the interviewees’ social position in society (Zahner, 2012), regardless of the interaction within which the reports are elicited. Over the past two decades, in the social and learning sciences, there has been a growing interest in how people make sense of art in interaction with each other. In the learning sciences, which have long focused on “formal” settings such as schools, scholars have increasingly argued for the importance of learning occur­ ring when people interact with others in “informal settings” like museums and science centres (Bekerman et al., 2006; Knutson and Crowley, 2010; Leinhardt

182

Dirk vom Lehn

et al., 2002; Piscitelli et al., 2002; Rogoff, 1990; Silverman, 2009). This research primarily focuses on interaction in exhibitions of science and technology and has been concerned with how the content of talk reflects the content of the exhibits. Sociologists have shifted the focus of research from learning to the organization of action and interaction. Their interest in interaction in museums has been moti­ vated by a renewed concern with “behavior in public places” (Goffman, 1963) and with people’s concerted navigation of public places (Goffman, 1971), as well as by a shift away from Bourdieusian concepts of art and art perception, and towards interactionist perspectives on experiencing and meaning-making. This research has explored how people produce experiences of particular exhibit features in inter­ action with each other (Christidou, 2018; Christidou and Diamantopoulou, 2017; Heath and vom Lehn, 2004; vom Lehn, 2018b). By turning their interest towards the organization of action, these scholars have argued that it is not people’s social and educational background (Bourdieu, 1968, 2010) or the intrinsic aesthetic quali­ ties of the works (Klein et al., 2014) that determine what people look at and how they see it. Rather, it results from contingently produced action and interaction at the exhibit-face (vom Lehn et al., 2001).3 They show, for example that what people look at and how they see it emerges in talk and interaction between them (vom Lehn et al., 2001).4 Scholars in the learning sciences and sociology presume that people acting and interacting with and around exhibits have the same level of vision and can see the artworks in the same way. In recent years, a small body of studies has emerged that investigate VIP’s experience of the social world, for example while navigating pub­ lic places (Saerberg, 2010) or eating (Saerberg, 2015). Large parts of this research are produced by VIPs themselves, who use autoethnography to capture their expe­ rience of the social world (Michalko, 2001; Saerberg, 1990). These researchers describe how they experience interaction with others, including with sighted peo­ ple. However, only a few studies explore the organization of action and interaction between VIP and sighted companions (Due, 2021; Länger, 2002). Save for my own (vom Lehn, 2010) investigation of VIPs’ experience of touchable exhibits, I am aware of only one other study that explores interaction between sighted compan­ ions and visually impaired visitors in an exhibition. In their investigation, Yaël Kre­ plak and Chloé Mondémé (2014) reveal how visually impaired visitors experience works of visual art as touchable objects, and how the guides’ instructions on how to interact with these objects enables these visitors to experience the pieces as aes­ thetic objects through touch. In this chapter, I will contribute to this line of research by examining interaction between VIPs and their sighted companions, recorded at an exhibition in the National Portrait Gallery in London. The groups of visitors tak­ ing part in the workshop I video-recorded comprised one or two participants with average vision and one participant with low or no vision. In the following section, I will briefly describe the methods of data collection and analysis. Methods and data The chapter has arisen in the context of the research programme looking at people’s experience of works of art displayed in museums, as undertaken by members of

Assembling compositions

183

the Work, Interaction and Technology Research Group at King’s College London. In 2006, while I was collecting video-data in various art museums in the UK, the National Portrait Gallery staged an exhibition of touchable exhibits. The manage­ ment and curators gave me permission to gather video data within the exhibition while VIPs explored it with volunteers who served as their sighted companions. Both the VIP and their companions also agreed to participate in the research. To collect the data, I set up three cameras mounted on tripods in the gallery. The cameras recorded the talk and interaction of the participants as they were at or near exhibits that I had selected in discussion with the managers and curators of the exhibition. The selection of exhibits was made, first, on a pragmatic basis, as I had to ensure the cameras would not obstruct walkways and fire exits. Second, I was keen to include a wide range of exhibits, such as paintings and sculptures, made from different materials. In my previous studies, participants rarely directly responded to the camera – or if they did so, their actions are clearly recognizable as directed to the camera. This observation is consistent with the collection of videodata by scholars who have undertaken video-based research in different settings (Heath et al., 2010; vom Lehn, 2018a). In this research, the research subjects were unable to see the camera setup in the gallery. The museum, therefore, informed the VIPs about the recordings in a meeting prior to them entering the gallery. Video recordings are a complex form of data that show multiple participants talking and producing bodily and material action. The systematic examination of such complex data requires the use of an approach that both reveals orderly prac­ tice and allows for meaningful conclusions. Like many other contributions in this volume, I use “ethnomethodology” developed by Harold Garfinkel since the 1940s (Garfinkel, 2006) as a “sociological attitude” (Garfinkel, 1962) to examine the organization of people’s conduct and interaction. This attitude draws our attention to the situated and emergent character of social action. Coupled with “conversation analysis” (Sacks, 1992), ethnomethodology allows the researcher to unpack the organization of action and reveal how the participants themselves orient to each other’s action and the environment around them. This unpacking of the organiza­ tion of action requires a detailed inspection of data that shows how actions are related to each other – in particular, how an action is produced in the light of a prior action and provides the context for each next action. Thus, the context of action is not pregiven by the material surroundings but acts as an emerging frame of actions that is continually renewed by each subsequent action (Heritage, 1984). Over the past 50 years or so, conversation analysts have developed a systematic method of transcription that allows researchers to map out the temporal organiza­ tion of talk (Jefferson, 1984). A comparable system for the transcription of non­ vocal action has not yet been produced, despite prominent attempts, for example by Mondada (2018).5 In my analysis, I have used a version of the system devised by Heath et al. (2010), which uses Jefferson’s (1984) transcription system for the capturing of talk and a method for the transcription of non-vocal action that maps body movements onto the production of utterances. The detailed examination of recorded excerpts of interaction allows me to explore how participants orient to each other’s action as they approach and inspect exhibits in interaction with each other. In comparison to previous studies undertaken with

184

Dirk vom Lehn

sighted participants, the inclusion of VIP in a video-based investigation raises inter­ esting challenges for ethnomethodological analysis. The blind sociologist Siegfried Saerberg (2006) argues that VIP use a different “experiential style”6 from sighted participants. Therefore, their experience of the social world will invariably differ from that of sighted sociologists. However, my interest lies not in understanding the individual participants’ subjective experience of the exhibits, but in how the partici­ pants’ experience of exhibits arises in, and through, their interaction practices. The analysis will therefore examine video recordings of the participants’ actions and interaction to reveal how they can be seen to develop a sense of a “reciprocity of perspectives” (Schutz, 1967) or intersubjective experience, even though they have differential access to the exhibits, as the VIP are unable to see the objects. While developing the data-analysis method, I began with a screening of the cor­ pus of recordings that I produced over the course of a one-day workshop. This data corpus consisted of 50 excerpts of interaction between ten VIP and nine sighted companions at different exhibits. While screening the data corpus, I was able to identify events and activities that appeared to be interesting or relevant for further examination. I created collections of such events and then compared and contrasted the organization of their occurrence across different cases. In this way, I was able to identify patterns and commonalities in the action and interaction across the corpus. For the purpose of this chapter, I have selected excerpts that particularly clearly show the issues I focus on in my discussion of interaction between VIP and sighted companions in the exhibition. In the following, I will discuss three issues to which my analysis gives rise: first, how VIP and their companions locate works of art; second, how they come to find a particular exhibit feature to inspect and make sense of; and third, how, based on their examination of individual exhibit features, they assemble the composition of a work of art. Analysis Locating works of art: taking touch-points

When VIP and their sighted companions explore the gallery, they often have dif­ ficulties locating exhibits. As they approach an artwork, the sighted companions often slow down, or sometimes move the VIP’s hands up to touch the piece and announce their arrival at “another work of art”. From changes in the walking speed and their companion’s talk, VIP can sense that they are approaching a work of art. Yet whilst sighted visitors can pre-select their stand- and viewpoint as they approach, VIP gradually adjust their stand- and then touch-points, that is the standpoint where they can touch the work of art while approaching the exhibit. The sighted companions sometimes provide support to help them organize their approach to exhibits by describing the works and answering the VIP’s questions. Consider excerpt 9.1. It begins when a visually impaired person, Greta, arrives with her sighted companion, Eve, at a portrait created as a three-dimensional col­ lage glued onto a large canvas. Eve stands to Greta’s left, slightly closer to the exhibit than the visually impaired person, who faces the collage from the front with her arms lifted.

Assembling compositions

185

Excerpt 9.1 Eve (in dark top) and Greta (visually impaired person in light top to the right) 1 G:

This is number one?

Excerpt 9.1.a 2 E: 3 G: 4 E: 5 (.3) 6

yah am I allowed teh touch yea:h if you take one step fo:rward Yah (.) there we go:

Excerpt 9.1.b

As they approach the canvas, Greta displays that she assumes that now they are standing in front of the first exhibit. By saying, “This is number one?” (line 1), with a falling intonation, Greta occasions Eve to immediately affirm her assumption that this is the first exhibit they will examine. Eve’s affirmation, “yah” (line 2), encourages Greta to ask if she is “allowed teh touch” (line 3) the piece. Eve again affirms the visu­ ally impaired person’s enquiry and emboldens her to “take one step fo:rward” (line 4). Greta carefully shuffles forward with her open hands stretched out in front (Fig­ ure 9.1.a). Just when her fingertips touch the surface of the canvas, Eve confirms that

186

Dirk vom Lehn

Greta has arrived at a touch-point, “Yah (.) there we go” (line 6), encouraging her to examine the exhibit’s features by moving her hands across its surface (Figure 9.1.b=). The analysis of excerpt 9.1 suggests that in this exhibition, VIPs locate works of art and establish touch-points from which they can begin to examine exhibits in inter­ action with their sighted companions. The companions monitor the VIP’s actions in relationship to the exhibit and provide them with information they can use to manage their bodily orientation to the piece. Consider excerpt 9.2, which was recorded at the same exhibit. It begins when Mary and the visually impaired person, John, approach the work of art. On arrival, standing about one meter from the painting, Mary begins to describe the piece. She talks about the person captured by the portrait and his love of books, as shown in the collage by the spines of books glued onto the canvas. Excerpt 9.2 Mary (dark top) and John (visually impaired person, light top, to the right) 1 M:

so if you touch i:t (.) yah:a

2 J:

just here?=

3 M: 4 J:

=yah just here yah oh[h

Excerpt 9.2.a

Excerpt 9.2.b

5 M: [( ) 6 J: mhm

Excerpt 9.2.c

As Mary brings her description of the collage to a close, she encourages John to “touch it” (line 1; Figure 9.2.a). John, who holds a cane in his right hand, slowly lifts his left arm, preparing to touch the work of art while saying “just here?” (line 2). This action encourages his companion to gently support the movement of his arm with her left hand. As she holds her left hand underneath John’s wrist, which is slowly mov­ ing closer to the work of art, Mary vocally affirms the trajectory of John’s action, “yah just here yah” (line 3; Figure 9.2.b). At the same time, however, Mary almost imperceptibly adjusts the forward movement of John’s left hand by slightly changing the way in which she touches his wrist (Figure 9.2.c). John immediately adjusts the movement of his left arm and a moment later carefully moves his body closer to the

Assembling compositions

187

canvas, arriving at a position where his fingertips touch the surface of the canvas. He displays vocally that he has established a touch-point at the work of art, “ohh” (line 4), occasioning Mary to withdraw her hand from his wrist. From now onwards, he examines the collage with his left hand while his companion observes the action. The analysis of excerpt 9.2 suggests that the participants organize their approach to the exhibit in cooperation with each other. In doing so, they show deference to each other’s differential approach to the piece. As John steps closer to the exhibit, Mary provides vocal and tactile information he can use to adjust his bodily and tactile actions. This supporting information supports John in establishing a touchpoint from which he can examine the artwork with his hands. Throughout the excerpt, Mary avoids giving the impression that she is guiding John’s approach and examination of the exhibit. Instead, she monitors his changing bodily and tac­ tile orientation to the piece and uses his actions as a resource to provide him with further information that enables him to gain some independence from her support­ ing actions. John, in turn, does not create a situation in which Mary feels she has to offer guidance. He produces minimal vocal actions and requests that encourage the sighted companion to assess the situation and provide just enough information to enable him to adjust his bodily and tactile orientation so that he can examine the work of art without having to request additional support. Discovering exhibit features

VIP and their companions have differential access to the exhibits and the informa­ tion about them provided in labels. Upon arriving at an exhibit and touching its features with their fingers, VIP often wonder what the object is they are examining. Although the sighted companions can see the exhibit, they use the time while the VIP situate themselves at a piece to read the label and find information they can use when they examine the artwork in concert with the VIP. Consider excerpt 9.3, in which Mary and John have just arrived at the sculpture Top Gear Gang by Kevin Kormi. As they approach the sculpture, Mary walks to John’s left and holds his arm until he stands close by the exhibit. Mary then walks around him and comes to stand to his right, by the label that describes the work and features quotes by the artist outlining his motivation for the piece. Label Top Gear Gang By Kevin Kormi Each model was made by shaping wire into a figure and then covering it with modroc. The car was modelled from plastic cartons and then covered with modroc. I watch Top Gear every week and it is my favourite programme. I never miss it! I’ve really enjoyed getting messy whilst making it. It’s been great to see my models beginning to look like people.

188

Dirk vom Lehn

As Mary stands to John’s right, she bows down and begins to read the label qui­ etly (Figure 9.3.a). A few moments later, she lifts up her body and, while initially still looking at the label, vocalizes some of the written words in her talk. As she produces her talk, she ensures that John is attending to her description. For exam­ ple, when Mary begins to describe the exhibit, “It’s called” (excerpt 9.3, line 1), she briefly pauses and then restarts her description by saying “the work of ar:t is called top gear gang” (lines 1–2). The pause in Mary’s utterance encourages John to change his bodily and tactile orientation to the work of art. As Mary pauses her talk, he noticeably turns his head towards Mary while continuing to touch and feel the figures in the sculpture with his left hand (Figure 9.3.b). Excerpt 9.3 Mary and John (visually impaired person) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

M: It’s called (.) the work of ar:t is called top gear gang J: mhmh (2.3) M: It’s made out of wi:re J: mhmh (.8) M: that was shaped into the figure (.) and then covered in modroc (.2) J: what? M: modroc J: oh modroc M: Modroc? J: I have heard of that (that’s sort of) M: exactly and it’s all in white J: mhm M: and what you have he:re is a car: and three guys leaning on the car J: oh:

Figure 9.3.a 21 22 23 24

Figure 9.3.b

Figure 9.3.c

M: okay that’s the car can you touch the car J: yah M: and fee:l it and then there are three gu:ys

Assembling compositions 25

(.3)

Figure 9.3.d 26 27 28 29 30 31

189

Figure 9.3.e

this one is the bigger (.) J: oh yah: M: it’s hu:ge J: he is very M: he is very huge

Having given the name of the sculpture as “top gear gang” (line 1), Mary first talks about the material characteristics of the exhibit and its colour; “it’s made out of wi:re . . . and then covered in modroc” (lines 5–16) and “it’s all in white” (line 16). While Mary talks about the material and technical qualities of the exhibit, John continues to slide his left hand along and around one of the figures of the sculpture. After John has confirmed his understanding of the material qualities of the sculp­ ture, Mary turns to its composition and encourages him to discover it for himself with his hands. As she begins to describe it, “what you have he:re is a car: and three guys” (lines 18–19), John shifts his tactile orientation from the figure on the left to the car at the centre of the sculpture. This shift in orientation involves John turning his upper body slightly to the right and moving his left hand over the shoulder of the figure to a neighbouring object that Mary identifies for him as the car, “okay that’s the car” (line 21). As Mary brings her description of the object as “the car” to a close, John slides his hand over the top of the object without displaying that he is aware that this object is the car. When he slides his hand to the right, Mary reformulates her earlier utterance, “can you touch the car” (Figure 3.3, line 21; Figure 9.3.a–9.3.c), thereby encouraging John to change the position of his hand and stroke the side of the car, just as he confirms that he is aware that he is touching the car, “yah” (line 22). As he continues to stroke the side of the car, Mary brings her utterance to a close by saying, “and feel it” (line 23). The analysis reveals how the participants discover features of the artwork in inter­ action with each other. While observing John’s hand movements across the sculpture, Mary produces descriptions of the piece in coordination with his tactile actions. John in turn adjusts the movement of his hand across the exhibit by listening to and adjust­ ing his tactile actions regarding Mary’s descriptions. Her descriptions of the exhibit encourage John to adjust the movement of his hand along the various aspects of the sculpture and to enhance his tactile experience of the exhibit by providing information about the piece that is available only to sighted participants. For example, for VIP it is not immediately apparent that the sculpture is made of wire covered in modroc, and

190

Dirk vom Lehn

certainly not that it is white. While such descriptions are not critical for VIP to make sense of the exhibit, the sighted companion’s voicing of such descriptions provides VIP with information they can use when examining and experiencing the works of art. After John has examined the car in the centre of the sculpture for a few moments, Mary directs his attention to the “three guys” (line 24), encouraging John to again shift orientation from one part of the exhibit to another. He attends to Mary’s mentioning of the “three guys” (line 18) by moving his left hand slowly upward, where he discov­ ers the tall figure standing behind the car. This shift in orientation from the car to the sculpture, occasioned by Mary’s utterance, leads to a tactile examination of the object. John slowly moves his hand along the left side of the sculpture until he reaches the elbow of the “guy” (Figure 9.3.d). As his hand then glides downward, Mary suggests that “this one is the bigger” (line 26), occasioning John to move his hand upward, beyond the “guy’s” shoulder and up to the head (Figure 9.3.e). While he feels his way up to the top of the sculpture, John affirms his companion’s description of the object, “oh yah:” (line 28). She subsequently provides an assessment of the object’s qualities, “it’s hu:ge” (line 29), which first John and then Mary repeat (lines 30–31). The analysis suggests that the VIP use the sighted companions’ vocal descrip­ tions of exhibits to discover the exhibit features with their hands and make sense of them. These vocal descriptions are produced by the sighted companions in light of the VIP’s touch-point and tactile actions – that is what can they reach and touch from where they are standing. The design of the descriptions does not suggest they are produced to instruct the VIP’s actions but encourage them to independently explore the exhibit with their hands while using the sighted companion’s talk as a resource to help make sense of their tactile experience. Assembling a composition As we have seen in the discussion of the excerpts in the previous section, sighted visitors are able to notice various exhibit features at a glance, whilst VIP progres­ sively examine the pieces with their hands and in this way assemble the composi­ tion of the work of art touch-by-touch. Still, a glance is not always sufficient to see a work of art in its entirety, and some exhibit features might be discovered only through multisensory and multimodal action and interaction. Excerpt 9.4.1 Pete and Jim (visually impaired person)

Figure 9.4.1.a

Figure 9.4.1.b

Assembling compositions

191

1 J: two people? 2 P: yep

Figure 9.4.1.c 3 (15)

Consider the following and final excerpts, 9.4.1 and 9.4.2,7 recorded at the same sculpture. In excerpt 9.4.1, as they begin their examination of Top Gear Gang, Pete and Jim (visually impaired person) are standing in front of the sculpture. Jim is closer to the exhibit, touching various parts of it, while Pete stands a little behind, observing the action. During this initial tactile exploration, Jim touches different parts of the exhibit with both hands. He first touches the two figures on the left and right corner of the sculpture with both his hands simultaneously (Figure 9.4.1.a). After a few moments, he slightly turns and examines the figure on the right, slowly moving both hands from the top to the bottom of the figure (Figure 9.4.1.b). As he moves his hands downward, the back of his left hand touches the figure on the left of the sculpture. He then slightly shifts orientation and examines this figure in more detail with his left hand, while keeping his right hand on one of the legs of the other figure. Pete remains standing quietly behind him, observing Jim’s actions, until the Jim stops moving his hands and voices his assumption that the sculpture consists of “two people”, or that the two objects he has been exploring are “two people”, which Pete confirms (Figure 9.4.1.c). Excerpt 9.4.2 Pete and Jim (visually impaired person) – Top Gear Gang 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

J: it’s paper mâché over wire I suppo:se= Figure 9.4.2.a =P: it feels like that ( ) J: something like tha yah (6.3) P: Modroc it’s covered in mod[roc J: [oh Modroc yes yes yes yes yah that’s the ehm plaster bandage P: hehe that’s funny what the ( ) says I watch top gear every week J:. hhhhh

192 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Dirk vom Lehn P: it’s my favourite programme I never miss it I really enjoy getting messy I’ve really enjoyed getting messy whilst making it it’s been great to see my models (.) beginning to look like people and it’s called top gea:r gang so there’s a thir:d person behin:d (.) the people you were fee:ling J: ri:ght >yah
yahmersi.< yes thanks

Oliver does not only bring drinks to the table: he also does an announcement (1), which mentions their containers (bottles vs. glasses) and which is consequential for the next objects’ manipulations, pouring the liquid. Moreover, whereas Janet immediately acknowledges the arrival of the bottle, probably grasping it, Nina is asked by Oliver whether he can give one to her (5). Nina does not answer immedi­ ately; instead, she initiates the repair of the place where Oliver is holding or putting the bottle (7). Janet responds on his behalf, and Nina thanking action is preceded by a change-of-state token ah/“oh” (10), displaying that her receiving the bottle was not straightforward. Moreover, her closing thanking action seems not to be enough for Oliver, who further asks for a confirmation (11), now positively responded to by Nina (12). This short extract reveals the not taken-for-granted unfolding of a simple action, bringing and receiving the ordered drinks. The way Oliver announces the drinks, offers to deliver them, and requests for confirmations shows the methodic practices

The limits of vision 205 through which he segments the ongoing action and makes it literally graspable, step-by-step, for the customers. Simple actions are here instructed in quite some detail. The way the customers, and in particular Nina, respond to these actions – with repairs and manifestations of change of state – also shows they are not straightforward. The next ensuing interaction confirm the awkward character of simple actions made in preparation of drinking – such as pouring drinks in a glass: Extract 10.1b 13 (0.9) 14 JAN i bi da am güdere. I am spilling here 15 NIN oh muess i selber ihschenke? oh must I pour (it) myself 16 (0.5) 17 MAR chasch: (.) chasch au ab de fläsche trinke. ((laughs)) you can you can also drink from the bottle ((17 lines omitted)) 35 (0.6) 36 NIN d- düend dir is glas ihschenk[e? d- do you pour it into the glass? 37 MAR [Nä äh. ((loud laughter)) 38 JAN [nei i glaub no I think 39 i trink- n(h)ei. I drink- n(h)o 40 (0.4) 41 NIN i glaub i due is glas ihschenke. I think I’ll pour (it) into the glass 42 (0.5) 43 MAR also. so 44 (0.2) 45 NIN aber i muess dr finger inne ha dassi wei:ssbut I need to have the finger inside so I know46 MAR mhm. uh huh 47 (1.8) 48 MAR wenn dr schuum ufe chunnt gäll? when the foam is coming up right 49 NIN °ja.° yes 50 (5.0) 51 NIN jetzt isch guet. (0.2) hi hh now is good ((laughs)) 52 (1.4)

206

Lorenza Mondada

53 NIN hey pro:scht. hey cheers 54 (0.2) 55 NIN wemer [astosse? do we want to clink glasses 56 JAN [momänt. i bi [noni so wit, hold on. I’m not ready yet 57 MAR [ja: chumm. yes come 58 JAN °i bi noni so wi:t.° I’m not ready yet 59 (0.5) 60 NIN bisch au am ihschenke? are you also pouring (it) 61 (0.2) 62 JAN ja. yes 63 (0.2) 64 NIN heh? huh 65 (0.3) 66 JAN ja::h. yes 67 (1.3) 68 JAN i chumm mir vor wie behinderet. (.) sorry. I feel like handicapped (.) sorry 69 (1.5) * (2.2) jan? *pours liquid into the glass–>>

Janet formulates a problem she encounters (14), spilling her drinks on the table, while Nina realizes – using another change-of-state token – that she has to help herself pour her Coke into a glass (15). Marie offers an alternative, laughing (17), consisting in drinking from the bottle. These turns show how the familiar action of pouring liquid in a glass emerges as a problem. A while after, Nina comes back to the issue of pouring the drink into a glass (36), retrospectively manifesting that she has been continuously busy with this problem. Marie responds with some laughter and Janet negatively, displaying again the nonstraightforwardness of that action. Nonetheless, Nina persists (41), announcing what she is about to do. As Marie tries to progress in the activity (43), Nina further formulates a technique she is about to use (45), putting her fingers in the glass. This is understood by Marie, who collaboratively completes Nina’s utterance, not as concerning the pouring of the drink, but rather the control of the quantity poured, which supposes the achievement of the pouring: by so doing, Marie supposes the former problem solved, which does not seem to be the case (Nina minimally responds with a very soft positive token, 49). After five seconds, Nina announces to have succeeded (51), with some laughter, and progresses into the activity, pro­ posing a toast (53–55). Janet however delays it (56, 58), while Marie aligns with

The limits of vision 207 it (57). Nina identifies Janet’s problem as the same as hers before (60, au/“also”), and Janet apologies by using a self-categorization (“I feel like handicapped” 68). The action of pouring drinks not only takes time, occasioning delays, but is questioned, instructed, and formulated in so-many-words. Laughter, but also apol­ ogies and deprecative self-categorization, orient to the way the action is performed as something familiar made strange. Finally, the next action of doing a toast confirms the difficulty not only of man­ aging the drink for oneself but also of coordinating further actions with the glasses: Extract 10.1c 71 JAN wo bisch? where are you 72 (0.6) 73 NIN wart schnell, wait a second 74 (0.6) 75 NIN m- mis glas, m- my glass 76 (0.3) 77 NIN d- (0.2) >wart schnell,< (0.2) ouh ui. dwait a second ouh ui 78 (0.2) 79 MAR i ha eifach angscht dassi öppis abe [ri:ss. I just fear that I tear something apart 80 JAN [HA ha 81 (0.2) 82 JAN [HEhe hehe 83 NIN [da:? here 84 (0.2) 85 JAN ja. yes 86 (0.5) 87 NIN okay.= okay 88 MAR =wo sindr? where are you 89 (0.5) 90 JAN pr[ost eh. cheers eh 91 NIN [pröschtli. cheers ((diminutive)) 92 (0.6) 93 NIN >pröschtli< [mersi viu [mau he. cheers [dim.] thank you so much PRT

208

Lorenza Mondada

94 MAR

[zum wo:uh. cheers 95 JAN [wo bisch mari?= where are you Mari 96 JAN =↑da[: prost. ((big laughter)) here cheers 97 MAR [zum WO:[:UH. ((big laughter)) cheers

Having heard the sound of a drink being poured (69), the participants engage in the toast, but this collective action is delayed by Janet searching for Nina (71), Nina searching for her glass (73–77), and Marie formulating the fear of messing things around (79). The toast is preceded by questions concerning their respective locations (88, 95). It is finally accomplished (90–94, 96–97) while participants manage issues of mutual coordination and shared space through explicit formulations, instructions, repairs, and checks. The absence of mutual visual access and the spatial, embodied, and temporal troubles it generates reveals intersubjective practices that are ordinarily done without a word. This confirms what Garfinkel says about the inverted lenses: The use of inverting lenses furnishes us a perspective by incongruity. (The phrase is borrowed from Kenneth Burke.) They introduce a Heideggerian troublemaker into ordinary human jobs. Practices that have become embod­ iedly transparent in their familiarity – in the familiarity of a skill – now become examinable again. The inverting lenses as troublemakers are immensely instructive on that score. (2002: 211) Furthermore, this breaching experiment also vividly reveals that vision does not just involve the eyes but is also a total embodied phenomenon: Think of these as jobs of bodies-not anatomists’ bodies, or biologists’ bodies, but work’s bodies. The bodies of practices. These bodies have eyes that are skills; eyes that are skills in the ways that eyes do looking’s work. Where see­ ing is something more, other and different than formal analytically describ­ able positioning the orbs to assure certain retinal registration of a perceptual field, let alone a visual field. (2002: 210) The breaching experiment, consisting in altering and removing sight, reveals by incongruity not only the organizational details of ordinary actions but also the fun­ damental properties of embodied vision. Looking, but not fully sensing Modern Western culture has often been described as ocularcentric, not only in its Cartesian philosophy but also in its organization of representation and action

The limits of vision 209 in space and architecture. The invention of perspective is perhaps the best exam­ ple, but also other dispositifs, like the invention of printing, of the telescope and the microscope, the panopticon, etc. All these devices reinforce the primacy of the visual in the sensorial and intellectual apprehension of the world, as well as its power of objectivation, by exploiting the standpoint of a distant disembodied spectator looking at the world through a window shaped by Alberti’s perspective (Jay, 1993). Consequently, this scopic regime favoured the withdrawal of embod­ ied involvement, emotional apprehensions, and the use of senses other than vision. This ocularcentric regime has been relativized by the anthropology of the senses (Howes, 1991) referring to cultures in which other senses might predominate and the primacy of vision might be misleading (for example, the Navajo sand paintings are primarily made to be haptically pressed onto the bodies of the participants in healing rituals, rather than to be seen, even making it sacrilegious to preserve a sandpainting untouched, Classen, 1997: 403). It has also been relativized by the history of sensibility (Febvre, 1973/1941), attributing to the culture of the Middle Age a preference for haptic and hearing sensoriality by contrast with the hegemony of vision in the post-Enlightenment era. Ocularcentrism has also been relativized within modern and contemporary Western philosophy, within what Jay (1993) calls the denigration of and distrust in vision, in scholars like Merleau-Ponty, Derrida, Foucault, Levinas, and feminism. This critique of vision concerns both the relation to the other and the relation to the material world. For instance, the ethics of Levinas is critical about the gaze on the other (including in face-to-face interaction), because it reduces them to an object observed; Levinas (1989) rather highlights the audible and tangible contact and encounter with the other. The phenomenology of Merleau-Ponty (1945/1962) insists on the intersensory access to the world, the imbrication of the senses which is anterior to the differentiation of the senses. Corporeity is the existential condition that makes the world graspable; it con­ stitutes the interplay between the visible and the invisible (1968), vision itself being in the world rather than merely on the world. In any case “what is certain is that the perceived is not limited to that which strikes my eyes” (Merleau-Ponty, 1963: 249). The critique of hegemonic vision is not only a matter of philosophical debates but is also experienced in actual situations in which people engage in perceiving the world, encounter discrepancies between different sensorial accesses, and orient to the relevance of specific senses. Thus, the critique of vision can be respecified as a member’s concern, emerging not in abstract and general terms, but in situ, within courses of action in which sensoriality is a relevant issue. In particular, sighted people experience the limitations of sight in a diversity of situations in which vision constitutes the first (and sometimes the normative) mode of access to objects but does not reveal their material and sensorial quali­ ties. Such cases – such as activities with food products at the market, studied next – occasion the participants to respecify the hierarchy of the senses and to orient, and sometimes formulate, the limitations of sight, with respect to other senses (see Nishizaka, 2011; Mondada, 2021). Although sight can be used to apprehend material objects, specific sensory qual­ ities of these objects are not revealed by looking at them, escaping vision. In selling

210

Lorenza Mondada

food, the visual appearance of products is often the first sensory aspect oriented to by the customer entering the shop or approaching the stall (Mondada, 2022) – but is also often dismissed as deceptive. The market is therefore a social arena in which trust and mistrust in the visual are locally elaborated by the participants. In some cases, the visual appearance is confirmed as corresponding to other sensory qualities of the product, as in the next extract, from a food market in Helsinki. The cus­ tomer asks a question about a cheese, pointing at it and using a demonstrative referring to its colour (1, Figure 10.2.1). In this way, he privileges the visual access to it. Extract 10.2 (FRO_FIN_HEL_090216_0.44.16) 1 CUS cus sel sel fig

†mi- *mikäs tuo *(0.2)#*+(0.2)* keltanen on. wh- what is that yellow. *RH points-*taps--*,,,,,,* †looks at cheese-> +. . . . .--> #fig.10.2.1

10.2.1 2

(0.2)+ ->+ +tää?+ this? sel +RH points+ 4 + (0.2) + (0.2) sel +grabs cheese+,,,,,--> 5 CUS °(-)° 6 SEL le mar+†caire. Le Marcaire. sel ->+opens wrapping–> sel †looks down at cheese–> 7 (0.6) 8 SEL juuri sem makuinen kum miltä näyttääki. with a taste exactly as it looks like. 9 mä annan tästäki maistiaisej jos haluut. .h[hh I give you a sample of this too if you want.. h[hh 10 CUS [joo. [yes.

sel 3 SEL

The limits of vision 211 After having secured the understanding of the indexical reference (3), the seller grabs the cheese and unwraps it. She gives its name (6) and describes it, claiming the convergence between its visual and tasting features (8). This aligns with the customer’s choice, based on sight, and affirms the congruence between what is revealed by vision and by taste. Nonetheless, she also offers the opportunity to taste, as a way to alternatively experience and check this convergence. By contrast, in other cases, participants rather orient to a divergence between what is visible and what is tastable. In the next fragment, recorded in Paris, the cus­ tomer looks at a cheese with an unusual black paste, an Irish Porter Cheddar (IPC) for quite some time, with a thinking face, the hand on his chin, while the seller is busy with another order (Figure 10.3.2): Extract 10.3 (FRO_F_PAR_100715_ 2.11.47/cli20_guinness) 1

(1) ± (2)# ± cus >>stares at the IPC-->> cus ±hand on chin± fig #fig.10.3.2

Excerpt 10.3.2 2 CUS cus fig 3 SEL 4 5 6 CUS 7 SEL 8 9

Excerpt 10.3.3

*irish porter* ched*dar j’connais pas# ç*a:* irish porter cheddar I don’t know this *points–-----* *points–------------*,,* #fig.10.3.3 alors ça c’est un cheddar jeune qui va être affiné so this is a young cheddar which will be curated avec de la guinness .h c’est beaucoup plus doux (0.3) with some Guinness .h it’s much sweeter (0.3) [que euh:] que & [than ehm] than [ouais ] [yeah] &c’qu’on pourrait croire. (.) quand on l’voi:t what you could imagine (.) when you see it ça fait un peu: euh impressionnant: euh sombre, it looks quite eh impressive eh dark, [et en fait en termes-] [and actually in terms-]

212

Lorenza Mondada

10 CUS 11 SEL 12 13 14 CUS 15

[ça fait pain d’épices] [looks like gingerbread] un ptit peu ouais (.) j’peux vous faire goûter a little bit yeah (.) I can give it to taste si vous voulez? if you want? (0.9) ah avec plaisir oh with pleasure ((SEL gives CUS cheese to taste))

The customer points at the cheese (IPC Irish Porter Cheddar) he was staring at (Figure 10.3.3), reading its name on the label, and claims not to know it. The visual aspect has attracted his attention, as observable in his long immobile staring gaze. The claim not to know works as a request for more information. The seller responds with a description of the product (3–12). This description highlights several contradictions between what one sees, and what one expects it to taste like (4–12). The use of ça fait (translated with “it looks”, but literally meaning “it makes”, in the sense of “it seems”), both by the seller (7) and the customer (10), also hints at this discrepancy between vision and taste. The customer (10) uses the same expression to refer to what he guesses from the dark colour of the cheese, as well as from the sweetness described by the seller (4). At this point, the seller uses another practice to convey what the cheese is like: he offers the customer a chance to taste it (11–12), which the customer eventually accepts (14). The seller’s turn addresses the insufficiency of both a mere visual access to the cheese and a verbal description of its tasting qualities. The offer to taste is a way to further make its characteristic features accessible – in a sensorial rather than visual or intellectual way. The transition from verbal explanation to the sensorial experience of tasting addresses both the limitations of vision and the limitations of language and the relevance of alternative ways of accessing the referent, here tasting. These practices are ordered: first products are sighted, then verbally described, then possibly tasted – reproducing a local hierarchy of the senses. So, although vision might constitute the first access to an object, it is not always the most trustful sense. This is further demonstrated in another except recorded in a market in France, in which customers engage in a multisensorial approach of the products. The seller (SEL1) greets a customer (CUS1) looking at some clementines: Extract 10.4 (MULH_1–15–20) 1

cus1 2 SEL1 cus1 fig

(5)* >>comes closer* *bon#jou::r good day *touches and presses one clementine-> #fig.10.4.4A/B

The limits of vision 213

Excerpt 10.4.4.a 3 CUS1

Excerpt 10.4.4.b

Excerpt 10.4.5

elles sont encore bien?# are they still good fig #fig.10.4.5 4 SEL1 ah (.) très* juteuses et très sucrées oh (.) very juicy and very sweet cus1 ->*holds it in his hand–> 5 SEL2 xx*x$xxx$ (goûtez-en) xxx xxxxxxx (taste) xxx sel2 $thumb up$ cus1 ->*grasps another one–> ((16 lines omitted, CUS1 asks another question)) 22 (14.3) cus1 >>peels one clementine–> 23 SEL1 goûtez goû*tez taste taste cus1 ->*puts into mouth–> 24 (1.5) * (3.5) * (2.7) * cus1 ->* *gives a bit to CUS2* 25 CUS1 MM::h 26 SEL1 elles sont bonnes hein they are good right 27 CUS1 •oui• yes cus1 •head toss• ((10 lines omitted, CUS1 decides to buy more clementines)) 38 CUS3 j’en prends quelques uns [aussi I take some too 39 SEL1 [oui: yes 40 ben j’vous donne* un paquet jeune fille PRT I give you a bag young women cus1 ->*puts bunches of C in the bag–>> 41 vous choisissez, you choose 42 (0.5)

214

Lorenza Mondada

43 SEL1 44 45 46 SEL1 47 CUS1 48? 49 SEL1 50 51 52

khh elles sont très bonnes, il faut pas khh they are very good you don’t have to s’fier à la couleur de la peau. trust to the skin color (1.2) la peau ne veut rien dire hein the skin does not mean anything right ah non oh no non non no no puisque vous savez qu’au maroc: (1.7) ils mangent since you know that in Morocco (1.7) they eat que les clementines vertes. (0.4) pas comme nous only the green clementines (0.4) not like us on les mange euh oranges bien colorées. (0.4) we eat them eh orange well colored (0.4) ils les mangent plus vertes they eat them greener

The seller’s greeting is countered by a question (3), rather than another greeting: the greeting is understood as a way the seller shows her availability for Customer1 in the midst of various other customers (Figures 10.4.4.a–b – documenting the same moment from two camera angles). The question uses the feminine pronoun elles/“they”, treating the reference to the clementines as made evident by the cus­ tomer’s hand touching them. Customer1 continues to touch and even press the fruit as he asks the question, which displays that this haptic access is relevant but not yet sufficient to fully appreciate the quality of the fruit (Figure 10.4.5). Two sellers respond to his query: the seller he is looking at (SEL) states two positive qualities, juiciness and sweetness (4), and another seller (SEL2), busy with other products a bit further away, produces a positive assessment (partially audible on the recording, 5, but visibly positive thanks to the thumb up). Customer1 aligns with these responses by continuing to pick up fruits. He also asks another question (not shown here) which also displays some skepti­ cism about their quality, while he continues to touch, palpate, press, and pick up a number of clementines. Moreover, he begins to peel one of them, projecting its tasting, as a way to complete his sensorial engagements. The seller, monitoring his action, invites him to taste the fruit (23). Customer1 puts the fruit in his mouth, sharing it with his companion, Customer2 (23–24). The outcome of this tasting (an audible gustatory MMh; Wiggins, 2002) is understood by the seller as a posi­ tive assessment (26), confirmed by the customer and further treated as a decision to buy. This is monitored by another customer, who, despite having already paid (not shown), requests to buy clementines as well. The seller describes the product again (43–52) in a way that explicitly addresses its sensorial qualities: she con­ trasts their visual appearance (skin colour) and the internal qualities (sweetness),

The limits of vision 215 referring to a cultural authority (how Moroccans use to eat them). This description comes after Customer1 has touched and tasted them and addresses the contrast between what can be seen and tasted, making sense of it and dissolving its pos­ sible discrepancies. In this case, the customer has accessed the fruits first by sight, then by touch, finally by tasting them, in this order, which addresses both the primacy of vision and its limitations. The seller orients to the problematic character of the discrep­ ancy between colour (green rather than orange) and tastiness (sweet rather than bitter) in two ways: by inviting the customer to sensorially check the quality and by telling stories about the fruits (referring to Moroccan taste). Here the hierarchy of the senses is reordered for all practical purposes, by the customer checking the quality of what he is buying, and by the seller building the accountability of the excellence of her products. Looking, but not yet seeing

Looking at things does not always mean seeing them. Looking and seeing are a practical interactional accomplishment that relies on embodied practices of exam­ ining, searching, scrutinizing, as well as possibly touching and engaging other senses, and on practices of showing, instructing, and guiding vision. Looking does not only imply the eyes, but also the entire body – and possibly other senses; it also implies some way of knowing how to look. Interested in the “skilled vision” of breeders who raise cows in the farms and sell and buy them on the markets, Grasseni (2004) explicitly engages with the critique of ocularcentrism – which she calls visualism, following Fabian (1983): vision is not always characterized as gaze, but as a way of looking at the world: in other words, skilled vision is not necessarily “visualist”. In fact, vision is not always identifiable with “detached observation”, and should not be opposed by definition to “the immediacy of fleeting sounds, ineffable odors, confused emotions, and the flow of Time passing”. (Fabian, 1983: 108) Vision, like the other senses, “needs educating and training in a relationship of appren­ ticeship and within an ecology of practice” (2004: 41). Her approach to the skilled vision of breeders is embodied and multisensorial, most often involving touch. Studying an astronomers’ team during a night of observation, Garfinkel et al. (1981) show that their way of looking does not merely involve scrutinizing the sky and finding relevant astronomic objects, but involves checking, doubting, address­ ing the issue of whether what they see is an instrument’s bias or a phenomenon in the sky. Seeing is a progressive accomplishment slowly emerging from talking and looking through the telescope. Visual practices in institutional settings have been investigated in EMCA in relation to a diversity of professional activities. Goodwin (1994) speaks of “professional vision” (Goodwin, 1994), that is a form of skilled

216

Lorenza Mondada

vision specifically characteristic of a professional community, through which details relevant to the professional activity are identified and mobilized: crucial work in many different occupations takes the form of classifying and constructing visual phenomena in ways that help shape the objects of knowl­ edge that are the focus of the work of a profession . . .. Such professional vision constitutes a perspicuous site for systematic study of how different kinds of phenomena intersect to organize a community’s practices of seeing. (Goodwin, 2000b: 167) A telling example is how archeologists scrutinize the dirt and categorize its colour, using the Munsell chart to enhance their vision (Goodwin, 2000c): the visual fea­ tures of objects and their surroundings are the result of skilled practices of looking and categorizing. Medicine constitutes another field in which professional vision, the negotiation of what is visible through in situ visual activities, the achievement of visibility of objects that are not available at first sight for non-competent members are pervasive features (see Hartswood et al., 2002 on mammographs; Nishizaka, 2011 on ultrasound; Koschmann et al., 2011; Mondada, 2011; Svensson et al., 2009 on surgery; Lindwall and Lymer, 2014 on odontology). Connoisseur ways of see­ ing also characterize food and drink tasting: Mondada (2018a) shows how tasters categorize the colour of beer using very similar tools as the Munsell chart; Mondada and Fele (2020) show how the visual appearance of cheese is categorized by tasters using specialized terminology and evaluation sheets. The colour of beer, wine, and cheese is not only categorized per se but related to other sensorial qualities, such as consistency, intensity, and taste, which are explored next in the tasting session. In the cheese shops, the visual examination of cheeses also constitutes the first approach to products, from which other sensorial characteristics can be inferred, or which can then be followed by other sensory explorations (Mondada, 2021: chapters 3–4). What is seen, thanks to the professional vision by an expert, might not be seen – even if looked at – by a novice or an outsider. This defines asymmetries of vision, expertise, and knowledge and also distinctions between the visual and the visible (what is visually available might not be visible to unskilled eyes). The novice surgeon does not see the anatomic detail until the expert surgeon guides their vision through the operating theatre (Koschmann et al., 2011; Mon­ dada, 2014a). Likewise, the audience at the trial of Rodney King does not see the movement of the policemen beating him as self-defence and legitimate action unless the expert guides their vision with reference to codes making their actions seeable as legitimate responses to King’s actions of escalating violence, rather than as actually instigating violence on their part (Goodwin, 1994). The novice does not see the emerging and gradual transformations of black colour unless an expert shows them when the expected blackness has been achieved (Goodwin, 1997). The oceanographers do not read each other’s instruments in the same way (Goodwin, 1995). These cases from the literature show that looking is not enough and that a professional vision is needed to see what for the expert is in the picture but that remains invisible for the novice or for experts from other disciplines.

The limits of vision 217 The next case shows how the evidence of visual representations can be seen (or not) in different ways by different participants. The extracts come from a working session in which two agronomists and a computer scientist are engaged in read­ ing aloud and discussing maps of agricultural domains provided by one of them, in order to produce a more abstract and general modellization of the space they represent. We join the action as Viviane, a senior researcher who has done a lot of fieldwork in the area represented, tells what the map represents for her (excerpt A), which is not shared by Michel, a junior researcher expert in cartography but without a first-hand knowledge of the farm referred to, and by Laurence, a com­ puter scientist in charge of the modelling. First, Viviane explains what she sees on her map: Extract 10.5A (inra2 K1, 12.08-) 1 VIV viv fig 2 3 VIV fig 4 viv 5 VIV viv fig 6

*mais pour M*OI,# but for me *. . . . . .*puts pen acr rect–> #fig.10.5.6 (0.7) c*ette partie# là, du territoire elle est LOIn, this part there of the territory it is far away, ->*moves index on upper part–> #fig.10.5.7 (0.9)*(0.3) –>*,,,--> .h *elle est loin, (0.7) du siège# .h it is far away (0.7) from the headquarters –>*pts heatquarters on lower part–>> #fig.10.5.8 de l’exploitation. of the farm

Extract 10.5.6 7 8 MIC

(1.0) ouais. (.).hhhhh yeah (.) .hhhhh

Extract 10.5.7

Extract 10.5.8

218

Lorenza Mondada

Viviane distinguishes two parts in a rectangle representing the territory of the farm: the lower part that is near the buildings and the upper part that is far away. She prefaces her description by referring to her personal perspective (1); she achieves the intelligibility of her bipartite description by putting a pen across the rectangle (Figure 10.5.6), and by successively pointing at the upper (Figure 10.5.7) and then the lower part (Figure 10.5.8). Her pointing gestures and her mobilization of an artefact, a pen used as a demarcating line, enhance the visual qualities she is describing. Michel responds with a positive token a ouais/“yeah” (8) which is more tenta­ tive than a clear oui/“yes” which aligns with her description, but produces then a soft laughter that projects some trouble. A bit later he develops his response, clearly disaligning with her. Extract 10.5b (inra2 K1, 12.08-) (30 seconds later) 20 MIC pask’c’+qu’est clair,# c’est que: cause what’s clear is that mic +. . .--> fig #fig.10.5.9 21 +en tout cas euh : quand # in all the cases eh when ->+points w pencil along rect-> fig #fig.10.5.10 22 tu dis +c’est loin# ici:,+ you say it’s far away here mic –>+pts along upper side+ fig #fig.10.5.11 23 cette +notion-là+ moi j’l’ai pas.+ I don’t have this notion mic +. . . . . +opens hands-----+

Extract 10.5.9 24

Extract 10.5.10

Extract 10.5.11

Extract 10.5.12

(0.4) c’est-à-dire que -fin j’- j’ai pas +et j’ai: (0.4) that is well I I haven’t and I have mic +shows rect--> 25 c’est vrai que j’ai j’ai pas# regardé+ ton. h ton: it’s true that I have I haven’t looked at your your mic ->+ fig #fig.10.5.12

The limits of vision 219 26

le schéma +en termes de proximité et éloigne+ment, the scheme in terms of proximity and remoteness mic +alternate hand movements---------+

Michel’s response disaligns with Viviane’s description, negating the relevance of the description in terms of remoteness. He also approaches the rectangle as he begins to speak (Figure 10.5.9) and gestures above it, but in very different ways than Vivi­ ane. For instance, he follows with the pencil the longer side of the rectangle (Fig­ ure 10.5.10) and then the shorter side (Figure 10.5.11), thus treating the geometric figure in its entirety. Moreover, when he denies seeing any proximity/distance, he does a gesture with both hands open (23–24) and then with a vaguely pointing ges­ ture, with an open palm (Figure 10.5.12). In this way, he does not only claim that he does not look at the map like her, he also enacts his different visual apprehension of it. A third interpretation of the rectangle is offered by Laurence a few minutes later, proposing a solution for re-establishing their intersubjective vision: Extract 5c (inra2 K1, 12.08-) (two minutes later) 40 LAU 41

lau

42 43

lau

lau fig 44

[%et tu pouvais pas faire comme. hh (.) [and you could not do as. hh (.) %approche son stylo du chr–> pour revenir à celui qu’on a fait hier, to come back to the one we did yesterday %(0.5) les his- les histoires% (0.5) the id- the idea ->%circles whole rect--------% %de quartier? (0.4) %ça c’est pt-#être of quarters? (0.4) this is perhaps %circles lower part-%circles lower part slowly-> #fig.10.513 le: le quartier the the proximal

Excerpt 10.5.13 45

Excerpt 10.5.14

Excerpt 10.5.15

de proximité% et puis le #quarti%er:% plus loin, quarter and then the quarter further away

220

Lorenza Mondada

lau --->%circles upper part-%,,,% fig #fig.10.5.14 46 (0.4) 47 VIV oui. (.) alors [on yes (.) then [we 48 LAU [à c’moment-là si tu si tu décomposes [in that case if you if you segment 49 en quartiers, on %va on va avoir# t’d’suite into quarters we’ll we’ll have immediately %lateral gest w 2H parallel--> fig #fig.10.5.15 50 la sensa%tion de: the sense of ->% 51 (0.7) 52 VIV mhm. parce que: [parce que: mhm. because [because 53 LAU [de proximité et d'éloignement. [of proximity and remotedness

Laurence refers to a previous solution they found, by offering the idea (infor­ mally formulated as a histoire/“story” 42) of quartier/“quarter” which enables her to distinguish two units, formulated in terms of proximal vs. remote quarters, also indicated by a circular gesture above the two parts of the rectangle (Figures 10.5.13 and 10.5.14) (which are further expressed by a gesticulation of her parallel hands, Figure 10.5.15). By so doing, Laurence aligns with Viviane’s version, albeit offer­ ing a different type of gesticulation, figuration, and formulation. Interestingly, she refers to the result of this figuration as providing for the “sense” or “sensation” of distance (50). Viviane agrees and confirms in overlap (47, 52). On this basis, Viviane proposes to figure the two quarters by separating them with a dotted line (not shown) and a separation line and explicitly asks Michel whether this would change his vision of the map: Extract 10.5d (inra2 K1, 12.08-) (30 seconds later) 61 VIV et à ce moment-là, si *on le figu#rait comme ça,* and at that point if we would figure it like that viv *traces line in the middle* fig #fig.10.5.16

Excerpt 10.5.16

Excerpt 10.5.17

Excerpt 10.5.18

The limits of vision 221 62 63 64 MIC 65 VIV 66 MIC 67 68

mic mic

mic fig 69 mic fig 70 71

mic mic

tu tu verrais *le: (0.9)* en fait *tu tu* euh you you would see the (0.9) actually you you eh *pts lower p* *pts rect* (0.4) .h [ben euh .h [well ehm [tu verrais une not- une notion d'éloignement? [you would see a not- a notion of remoteness? ben j'pense qu'on verrai- c'est +vrai que moi pour+ Well I think that we’d see- it’s true that me until +opens 2H---------+ l'instant j'avais l'im- +j'avais l'impression +d’voir now I had the im- I had the impression to see +opens 2h-------------+circles­ #un seul ensem+ble (0.7)+ (0.3) euh:: après si tu: a unique ensemble (1.0) ehm then if you -all the rect-+opens 2H-+ #fig.10.5.17 +si#+ tu sépares comme ça, déjà euh dans l’regard, if you separate like that PRT ehm in the gaze +middle line+ #fig.10.5.18 tu vas+ t’dire y+ a (0.3) y a deux choses, (0.5) you’ll realize there’re (0.3) there’re two things (0.5) +palm vert shows upper+shows alternatively up/low-> dans + c’te exploitation. in this farm ->+

Viviane requests a confirmation from Michel, which depends on a conditional phrase (si/“if”), referring to a change in the representation and annotation of the image (si on le figurait/“if we would figure it” 61). She does a simple gesture indicating a middle line (Figure 10.5.16). The question explicitly refers to Michel’s vision (expressed in the conditional mode, tu verrais/“you would see” 62, 65). Michel responds in a dispreferred way (beginning with “well” and delaying his alignment). Before confirming what Viviane hints at, he formulates what he saw until then (as j’avais l’impression de voir/“I had the impression to see” 67 in the past tense and relativizing vision as a subjective impression) as seeing a unique figure (which he also shows again by circling the entire rectangle, Figure 12). In this way, he re-enacts his previous vision. He then contrasts it with what he could see under Viviane’s conditions (he recycles the “if”-clause, 68–69), and aligns with her by doing the same gesture (tracing a line in the middle of the rectangle when he speaks of separation) and by confirming that there are “two things” to be seen. He formulates his vision not only as depending on the new figuration, but also as associating seeing and saying (dans l’regard, tu vas t’dire, literally, “in the gaze you’ll tell to yourself” 69–70). The practice of seeing is a multimodal achievement intimately connected with gesturing bodies and talk.

222

Lorenza Mondada

Conclusion Despite its hegemony, the primacy of vision in Western philosophy and culture has always coexisted with skeptical critical opinions, highlighting the importance of other senses for our access to the world. Starting from the activities of VIP studied in this book, as revealing both the importance of vision as well as of a social world without vision, relying on alternative sensory practices, this chapter has addressed the primacy of sight in a situated, endogenous, and praxiological way. By focus­ ing on three configurations in which vision is suspended or relativized, I discussed how participants in social interactions might be confronted with the limits of sight and how they consequently orient to other senses as more relevant, adequate, and precise. By doing so, they also explicitly formulate problematic aspects of seeing – providing for a respecification of vision. In the first configuration, participants are “blinded”: this can be done either by “blindfolding” objects looked at, or the eyes looking at them, or, more radically, by putting the bodies of sighted persons in the dark. The analysis of a dinner in the dark demonstrated how familiar actions – receiving a bottle, pouring liquid in a glass, toasting, drinking – become strange and difficult, and how participants per­ form them by methodically reorganizing, instructing, and formulating basic prac­ tices. Darkness constitutes a breaching experiment revealing, within a perspective of incongruency, the organizational details of mundane actions. In the second configuration, participants visually access objects which emerge as having qualities that sight can only very partially – and sometimes misleadingly – approach. Selecting products on market stalls is an experience that relies first on a visual access to them, which might then evolve into a distrust towards visual features, as well as into a multisensorial reorientation privileging touching, smell­ ing, and tasting. Participants might explicitly express their skepticism towards what sight reveals; in the market context, they might address the (in)congruency between various sensorial appraisals of the products as a matter of trust in the com­ mercial relation with the seller. In the third configuration, people look at an object but do not necessarily see its visual features. This incongruency between looking and seeing, often revealed by people seeing different things, or by one not seeing what the other does, ending in visual disagreements, shows how vision is an embodied skilled practice, rather than an objective form of perception. Video analyses of a team of scientists look­ ing at the same map and seeing different things, before finally building a shared vision, shows how seeing is not just a matter of eyes, light, and materiality, but a multimodal achievement, involving the entire body and talk. These configurations show different ways in which participants in social inter­ action locally encounter some kind of limitations of their visual access to the world. The consequences for a conception of vision are multiple. First, vision cannot be reduced to the eyes but is embodied, involving the entire body. Sec­ ond, vision is often embedded within other senses, in multisensorial experiences. Third, vision is essential for the situated achievement of the accountability of face-to-face co-present interactions, although this might also be secured by other

The limits of vision 223 senses, like hearing or touching. Fourth, vision relates to cultured, socialized, skilled ways of seeing that might or might not be shared among the participants. Thus, although vision often provides for a sense of evidence and its output is often supposedly shared, vision is also the locus of micro-controversies and disagreements in social interaction. These disagreements trouble the evidence of vision and might generate some distrust in it. Fifth, troubles with vision, or trou­ bled visions often produce not only sensorial reorientations, exploring alternative sensorialities or multisensoriality, but also explicit formulations of the limits of vision. Sixth, more generally, the confrontation with and experience of the limits of vision generate various forms of respecification (Garfinkel, 1991) of vision, in which the participants engage in embodied conducts or in verbal accounts that discuss, contest, and reframe the power of vision. The hierarchy of the senses and the primacy of vision are actively respecified by the participants, not within a generic philosophical discourse, but within the situated course of their affairs and in a way that is locally relevant for them. Transcription conventions Talk was transcribed using Jefferson’s conventions (2004) and embodied actions using Mondada’s conventions (2018b, www.lorenzamondada.net/multimodal­ transcription). References Cekaite, A. (2015). The coordination of talk and touch in adults’ directives to children: touch and social control. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 48(2), 152–175. Cekaite, A. & Mondada, L. (eds.) (2020). Touch in Social Interaction: Touch, Language, and Body. Abingdon: Routledge. Classen, C. (1997). Foundations for an anthropology of the senses. International Social Sci­ ence Journal, 153, 402–423. Due, B., Kupers, R., Lange, S. & Ptito, M. (2017). Technology enhanced vision in blind and visually impaired individuals. CIRCD Working Papers in Social Interaction, 3(1), 1–31. Due, B. & Lange, S.B. (2018). Semiotic resources for navigation: a video ethnographic study of blind people’s uses of the white cane and a guide dog for navigating in urban areas. Semiotica, 222, 287–312. Fabian, J. (1983). Time and the Other: How Anthropology Makes Its Object. New York: Columbia University Press. Febvre, L. (1973 [1941]). Sensibility and history. In P. Burke (ed.) A New Kind of History: From the Writings of Febvre. London: Routledge, 12–26. Fele, G. (2019). Olfactory objects: recognizing, describing and assessing smells during pro­ fessional tasting sessions. In D. Day & J. Wagner (eds.) Objects, Bodies and Work Prac­ tice. Bristol: Multilingual Matters, 250–284. Garfinkel, H. (1991). Respecification. In G. Button (ed.) Ethnomethodology and the Human Sciences. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 10–19. Garfinkel, H. (2002). Ethnomethodology’s Program: Working Out Durkheim’s Aphorism. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

224

Lorenza Mondada

Garfinkel, H., Lynch, M. & Livingston, E. (1981). The work of a discovering science con­ strued with materials from the optically discovered pulsar. Philosophy of the Social Sci­ ences, 11(2), 131–158. Goodwin, C. (1981). Conversational Organization: Interaction between Speakers and Hearers. New York: Academic Press. Goodwin, C. (1994). Professional vision. American Anthropologist, 96(3), 606–633. Goodwin, C. (1995). Seeing in depth. Social Studies of Sciences, 25, 237–274. Goodwin, C. (1997). The blackness of black. In L.B. Resnick, R. Salijo, C. Pontecorvo & B. Burge (eds.) Discourse, Tools and Reasoning: Essays on Situated Cognition. Berlin: Springer, 111–140. Goodwin, C. (2000a). Action and embodiment within situated human interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 32, 1489–1522. Goodwin, C. (2000b). Practices of seeing: visual analysis. In T. van Leeuwen & C. Jewitt (eds.) Handbook of Visual Analysis. London: SAGE, 157–182. Goodwin, C. (2000c). Practices of color classification. Mind, Culture, and Activity, 7(1–2), 19–36. Goodwin, C. (2003). Pointing as situated practice. In S. Kita (ed.) Pointing. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, 217–241. Goodwin, C. (2017). Co-Operative Action. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Grasseni, C. (2004). Skilled vision: an apprenticeship in breeding aesthetics. Social Anthro­ pology, 12(1), 41–55. Hänggi, P. (2019). Dining in total darkness: A multimodal conversation analytic approach. MA thesis. Basel: University of Basel. Hartswood, M., Procter, R., Rouncefield, M. & Slack, R. (2002). Performance management in breast screening: a case study of professional vision. Cognition, Technology & Work, 4(2), 91–100. Heath, C. (1984). Participation in the medical consultation: the co-ordination of verbal and nonverbal behavior between the doctor and patient. Sociology of Health & Illness, 6(3), 311–388. Heath, C. & Luff, P. (2000). Technology in Action. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Heath, C. & vom Lehn, D. (2004). Configuring reception: (dis-)regarding the ‘spectator’ in museums and galleries. Theory, Culture & Society, 21(6), 43–65. Hindmarsh, J. & Heath, C. (2000). Embodied reference: a study of deixis in workplace interaction. Journal of Pragmatics, 32(12), 1855–1878. Howes, D. (ed.) (1991). Varieties of Sensory Experience: A Sourcebook in the Anthropology of the Senses. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. Iwasaki, S., Bartlett, M., Manns, H. & Willoughby, L. (2019). The challenges of multimo­ dality and multi-sensoriality: methodological issues in analyzing tactile signed interac­ tion. Journal of Pragmatics, 143, 215–227. Jay, M. (1993). Downcast Eyes: The Denigration of Vision in Twentieth-Century French Thought. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Jefferson, G. (2004). Glossary of transcript symbols with an introduction. In G. H. Lerner (ed.) Conversation Analysis: Studies from the First Generation. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 13–31. Jefferson, G. (2018). Repairing the Broken Surface of Talk: Managing Problems in Speak­ ing, Hearing, and Understanding in Conversation. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Jonas, H. (1954). The nobility of sight. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 14(4), 507–519.

The limits of vision 225 Jutte, R. (2005). A History of the Senses: From Antiquity to Cyberspace. Cambridge: Polity Press. Kendon, A. (1967). Some functions of gaze-direction in social interaction. Acta Psycho­ logica, 26, 22–63. Kidwell, M. (2005). Gaze as social control: how very young children differentiate “the look” from a “mere look” by their adult caregivers. Research on Language and Social Interac­ tion, 38(4), 417–449. Kidwell, M. (2006). ‘Calm down!’: the role of gaze in the interactional management of hysteria by the police. Discourse Studies, 8(6), 745–770. Kidwell, M. (2009). Gaze shift as an interactional resource for very young children. Dis­ course Processes, 46(2–3), 145–160. Koschmann, T., LeBaron, C., Goodwin, C. & Feltovich, P. (2011). “Can you see the cystic artery yet?”: a simple matter of trust. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(2): 521–541. Koschmann, T. & Zemel, A. (2014). Instructed objects. In M. Nevile, P. Haddington, T. Heinemann and M. Rauniomaa (eds.) Interacting with Objects: Language, Materiality, and Social Activity. Amsterdam: Benjamins, 357–378. Levinas, E. (1989). Ethics as first philosophy. In The Levinas Reader. Oxford: Blackwell, 75–87. Liberman, K. (2013). The phenomenology of coffee tasting: lessons in practical objectivity. In More Studies in Ethnomethodology. New York: SUNY Press, 215–262. Licoppe, C. (2017). Showing objects in Skype video-mediated conversations: from showing gestures to showing sequences. Journal of Pragmatics, 110, 63–82. Lindwall, O. & Lymer, G. (2014). Inquiries of the body: novice questions and the instructa­ ble observability of endodontic scenes. Discourse Studies, 16(2), 271–294. Lynch, M. (2006). Cognitive activities without cognition? Ethnomethodological investiga­ tions of selected ‘cognitive’ topics. Discourse Studies, 8(1), 95–104. Majid, A., et al. (2018). Differential coding of perception in the world’s languages. Proceed­ ings of the National Academy of Sciences, 115(45), 11369–11376. Merleau-Ponty, M. (1945/1962). Phenomenology of Perception. London: Routledge. [Phé­ noménologie de la perception. Paris: Gallimard, 1945] Merleau-Ponty, M. (1963). The Structure of Behavior. Boston: Beacon Press. Merleau-Ponty, M. (1968). The Visible and the Invisible. Evanston: Northwestern University Press. Mondada, L. (2011). The organization of concurrent courses of action in surgical demonstra­ tions. In J. Streeck, C. Goodwin & C. LeBaron (eds.) Embodied Interaction: Language and Body in the Material World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 207–226. Mondada, L. (2014a). Requesting immediate action in the surgical operating room: time, embodied resources and praxeological embeddedness. In E. Couper-Kuhlen and P. Drew (eds.) Requesting in Social Interaction. Amsterdam: Benjamins, 271–304. Mondada, L. (2014b). Pointing, talk and the bodies: reference and joint attention as embod­ ied interactional achievements. In M. Seyfeddinipur & M. Gullberg (eds.) From Gesture in Conversation to Visible Utterance in Action. Amsterdam: Benjamins, 95–124. Mondada, L. (2018a). The multimodal interactional organization of tasting: practices of tast­ ing cheese in gourmet shops. Discourse Studies, 20(6), 743–769. Mondada, L. (2018b). Multiple temporalities of language and body in interaction: chal­ lenges for transcribing multimodality. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 51(1), 85–106.

226

Lorenza Mondada

Mondada, L. (2019). Participants’ orientations to material and sensorial features of objects: looking, touching, smelling and tasting while requesting products in shops. Gesprächsforschung, 20, 461–494. Mondada, L. (2020). Audible sniffs: smelling-in-interaction. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 53(1), 140–163. Mondada, L. (2021). Sensing in Social Interaction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mondada, L. (2022). Appealing to the senses: approaching, sensing and interacting at the market’s stall. Discourse & Communication, 16(2), 160–199. Mondada, L., & Fele, G. (2020). Descrittori visivi per l’assaggio professionale: lessico, sensorialità e standardizzazione. Rivista Italiana di Linguistica Applicata, XLIX(3), 651–681. Mondémé, C. (2019). La socialité interspécifique: une analyse multimodale des interactions hommes-chiens. Limoges: Lambert-Lucas. Mondémé, C. & Kreplak, Y. (2014). Artworks as touchable objects: guiding perception in a museum tour for blind people. In M. Nevile, P. Haddington, T. Heinemann & M. Rauni­ omaa (eds.) Interacting with Objects. Amsterdam: Benjamins, 289–311. Morgan, M. J. (1977). Molyneux’s Question: Vision, Touch and the Philosophy of Percep­ tion. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Nishizaka, A. (2007). Hand touching hand: referential practice at a Japanese midwife house. Human Studies, 30(3), 199–217. Nishizaka, A. (2011). The embodied organization of a real-time fetus: the visible and the invisible in prenatal ultrasound examinations. Social Studies of Science, 41(3), 309–336. Nishizaka, A. (2014). Instructed perception in prenatal ultrasound examinations. Discourse Studies, 16(2), 217–246. Noë, A. (2004). Action in Perception. Cambridge: MIT Press. O’Shaughnessy, B. (1989). The sense of touch. Australasian Journal of Philosophy, 67, 37–58. Relieu, M. (1994). Les catégories dans l’action. L’apprentissage des traversées de rue par des non-voyants. Raisons Pratiques, 5, 185–218. Rossano, F. (2012). Gaze Behaviour in Face-to-Face Interaction. Ph.D. dissertation, Nijmegen: Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics. San Roque, L., Kendrick, K. H., Norcliffe, E., Brown, P., Defina, R., Dingemanse, M., Dirksmeyer, T., Enfield, N. J., Floyd, S., Hammond, J., Rossi, G., Tufvesson, S., van Putten, S. & Majid, A. (2015). Vision verbs dominate in conversation across cultures, but the ranking of non-visual verbs varies. Cognitive Linguistics, 26, 31–60. Stukenbrock, A. (2015). Deixis in der Face-to-Face-Interaktion. Berlin: De Gruyter. Sudnow, D. (1972). Temporal parameters of interpersonal observation. In D. Sudnow (ed.) Studies in Social Interaction. New York: Free Press, 259–279. Svensson, M.S., Luff, P. & Heath, C. (2009). Embedding instruction in practice: contingency and collaboration during surgical training. Sociology of Health & Illness, 31(6), 889–906. vom Lehn, D. (2010). Discovering “experience-ables”: socially including visually impaired people in art museums. Journal of Marketing Management, 26(7–8), 749–769. Wiggins, S. (2002). Talking with your mouth full: gustatory mmms. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 35(3), 311–336.

11  The significance of EM/CA  studies in multimodal interaction involving visual impairment in the field of  “atypical interaction research” Gitte Rasmussen Introduction Vision is crucial in ordinary everyday life. Ordinarily, members of society approach the world unhesitatingly, with the underlying assumption that the world and “real­ ity” are self-evident and intersubjective (Schutz, 1945). It is a normalized world, embodying normalized meanings and actions used as normalized means for achiev­ ing normalized purposes in normalized situations. As research in the realm of con­ text analysis (Birdwhistell, 1970; Kendon, 1973), analysis of embodied interaction (Meyer et al., 2017; Streeck et al., 2011), and ethnomethodological conversation analytic (EM/CA) studies of multimodal interaction (Mondada, 2007, 2009) have demonstrated, members in interaction readily draw upon assemblages of a vari­ ety of modalities for the purpose of action construction and meaning-making,1 for example language, talk, writing, gestures, bodily movements, material and digi­ tal objects of any kind, and, importantly, gaze. Furthermore, EM/CA research has demonstrated how members in interaction work methodically to achieve an intersubjective understanding, in that they exchange and organize actions in systematic, recognizable ways as they orient towards the details of the actions (Sacks, 1995). And they take all of this for granted. However, members of society may not always be able to adapt their actions to the social world or make their action details “adequately”2 align with those of co-present others in specific social situations. EM/CA research investigates how the ordinary social world deals with “deviance” and “disabilities” in and through interaction. The purpose of this research is to understand, for example the “ordinary” through the lenses of “deviance”, “deviance” through the lenses of the “ordinary”, and how “deviance” and “disability” result from the “ordinary” (Goffman, 1963; Goode, 1994; Rapley, 2004; Robillard, 1999). As such, EM/CA research into disabilities often leads to respecifications of the understanding of phenomena or the everyday social order, as well as researchers’ and research programmes’ descriptions of them. Atypical interaction research3 EM/CA research into so-called atypical populations (Antaki and Wilkinson, 2013) has, over the years, developed into a coherent programme of work. The DOI: 10.4324/9781003156819-11

228

Gitte Rasmussen

research collection by Ray Wilkinson et al. (2020) and an overview of the field by Charles Antaki and Ray Wilkinson (2013) presented studies in interaction of participants who have been diagnosed with speech-, language- and hearing impair­ ments, impaired cognitive abilities, or psychiatric conditions. The research pre­ sented in these works concern, for example aphasia, autism, dementia, dysarthria, learning disabilities, sign language, stammering, and the use of augmentative and alternative communication. This type of research pursues interests in language and communicative competences, including in clinical linguistics – a subdiscipline of applied linguistics aimed at improving the assessment, treatment, and analysis of language and communication disabilities. It applies CA methods (Schegloff, 1996) and findings (cp. Wilkinson et al., 2020), including “overall structural organization” (Barnes et al., 2013; Schegloff and Sacks, 1973), “sequence organization” (Helasvuo et al., 2004; Schegloff, 2007; Wilkinson, 1999), “repair organization” (Laakso, 2020; Merrison and Merrison, 2005; Schegloff et al., 1977), “turn construction” (Clayman, 2013; Ochs et al., 1996; Pilesjö and Rasmussen, 2011), and “turn-taking organization” (Sacks et al., 1974; Schienberg and Holland, 1980) in talk-in-interaction (Psathas, 1995). These studies concern how language, hearing, and communication disorders play out in everyday life. This kind of work can be traced back to the 1970s and ’80s (Schien­ berg and Holland, 1980; Yearley and Brewer, 1989) (for an overview, see Antaki and Wilkinson, 2013; Wilkinson et al., 2020). The subfield is termed atypical inter­ action (Wilkinson, 2019), and researchers in the field have established the Atypical Interaction Conference (AIC).4 In addition to CA-informed research concerning communicative competence, research in “atypical interaction” is conducted with an EM/CA approach, which has a broader perspective on how intersubjective understanding is achieved, and on various aspects of human socialities more generally. The field attracts researchers from sociology, anthropology, psychology, and linguistics. In particular, researchers with a background in linguistics and language studies (e.g. pragmatics and socio­ linguistics) conduct EM/CA research with a special interest in if and how impair­ ments impact the resources that co-participants draw upon to construct actions and organize interactions. That is, in accordance with developments in EM/CA research in normalized interaction (e.g. see Deppermann, 2013; Mondada, 2016b, 2019a, 2019b; Rasmussen et al., 2014), the studies analyze how talk (cp. (Psathas, 1995), embodied action (Goodwin, 2003; Streeck, 2017) and other “modes” and “media” (Kress and Leeuwen, 2001) are constructed, drawn upon, and organized in everyday social activities. In this way, the studies use an EM/CA approach to analyze “atypical” multimodal interaction.5 Research in this vein of EM/CA studies includes studies of the organization of activities such as baking together (Majlesi and Ekström, 2016), when the coparticipants include people with dementia, whose “executive functioning”, that is their ability to manage actions, is affected. Tarja Aaltonen et al. (2014) study the activity of photo-sharing accomplished by individuals with aphasia and their coconversationalists. A study by Wilkinson and colleagues (Wilkinson et al., 2011) describes the use of graphic resources in conversations involving co-participants

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

229

with communication disorders. In a series of studies, Douglas Maynard et al. (e.g. Maynard and Turowetz, 2022a; Maynard and Turowetz, 2020; Turowetz and May­ nard, 2017) analyze how the common-sense order of reasoning is challenged in interactions involving autistic children and young people in different kinds of envi­ ronments. Antonia Krummheuer (2019) investigates how a wheelchair user with cognitive impairments and her assistant organize assisted shopping, while Gitte Rasmussen (2023) studies how wheelchair use in a sports-oriented high school may influence the configuration of interactional spaces and the initiation of conver­ sations. Furthermore, studies in interactions involving visually impaired persons (VIPs), as also excellently presented in this volume, describe the organization of, for example visits to museums (vom Lehn, 2013), navigation (Due and Lange, 2017), and interspecies interaction (Mondémé, 2020). Finally, studies in the area investigate if and how the co-participants orient to “self” or “other” as being impaired (e.g. Brouwer and Rasmussen, 2019; Nielsen, Chapter 6, this volume; Rasmussen, 2013, 2018), categorize each other as impaired, ascribe some specific conduct to a specific population (“people with dementia”, “children with ASD”) through practices captured by membership categoriza­ tion analysis (MCA) (Housley and Fitzgerald, 2009; Schegloff, 2007), or fail to ascribe it to an adequate social category (Maynard & Turowetz, 2020). Importantly, research in “atypical interaction” may also describe how co-participants respond to “deviant” or “atypical” conduct in conforming ways, and as such contribute to recognizable patterns of “atypical” interaction. In other words, “atypical interaction” research entails studies of interactions and activities involving any kind of “mode” and “medium”, and any kind of impair­ ment in any kind of environment. It studies how participants whom society has ascribed to specific social groups, for example through formal assessments in terms of medical diagnoses, carry out and organize everyday affairs, and as such it contributes to research in human social life and inspires a rethinking of some of its basic aspects (see, e.g. Maynard and Turowetz, 2022b; Mikesell, 2010; Smith, 2010; and Due’s introduction to this volume). Importantly it recognizes, as is clear from this book’s discussions in the intro­ duction, Chapter 1 (The practical accomplishment of living with visual impairment: an EM/CA approach), that “disability” and “atypicality” among other categories are problematic to impose on the empirical world beforehand but must instead be shown to be relevant (or not) within unfolding situations. This ethnomethodologi­ cal stance is, as shown by Due in the introduction, a constant reminder that research done within the “atypical interaction” programme calls for an ongoing critical dis­ cussion of how “normal”/“atypical” are produced in situ by members themselves. Furthermore, the area recognizes that it may not meet the EM criteria of the “unique adequacy requirement of methods” (Garfinkel, 2002; Garfinkel and Wieder, 1992). Analysts in the field may not be members of the group of peo­ ple who are involved in the studies, as they may not have been diagnosed with, for example autism, Down’s syndrome, aphasia, dementia, or hearing or visual impairments (see, however, Robillard, 1999). Thus, the researchers may not pos­ sess, nor be able to gain, the “vulgar competence” in the practices being studied to

230

Gitte Rasmussen

produce findings for the members. It holds, however, that the researchers may work to obtain insights into how actions by members of society with specific diagnoses usually occur (Goode, 1994), and into the usual responses to these actions by their co-participants, who, like the analyst, have no diagnosed impairments. This book on actions, interactions, and activities accomplished by visually impaired persons (VIP) is a culmination of EM/CA research over the years. As the volume documents, it contributes not only with important insights into the practical accomplishment of living with visual impairments (hence the title of the book), but also with aspects that may have been left unnoticed by scholars in other disciplines, and by EM/CA researchers focusing on both normalized and “atypical” social interaction. As such, this book makes a specific and a significant contribution to EM/CA research in general, and to the field of “atypical” interaction research in particular. The remainder of this chapter aims to detail how current and future research in blindness and visual impairment, and this book specifically, are impor­ tant to “atypical interaction” research. In doing so, it will demonstrate how EM/ CA research in general, “atypical interaction” research in particular, and research in interaction involving visual impairment can inform and enrich each other, and, thus, how an interplay between these “domains” may increase our understanding of social interaction and human sociality. The significance of current and future research in blindness and  visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction” Research in gaze behaviour and its role in the organization of ordinary, social, face-to-face interaction has provided remarkable insights into the ways in which co-participants use gaze as a method to co-organize actions, for example prior to exchanging talk (Goodwin, 1981); while organizing talk, which includes allocat­ ing turns at talk (Heath, 1984); and terminating conversations (Rossano, 2012) and activities in interaction (Broth and Mondada, 2013). Studies in “atypical interaction” involving speech-, language-, and communica­ tion impairments have shown how conditions such as autism, dementia, and cerebral palsy may affect interaction as gaze is withdrawn to compose turns using VOCA6 (Engelke and Higginbotham, 2013; Hörmeyer, 2012) or to engage with a computer while producing turns (Korkiakangas and Rae, 2014). In such cases, mutual gaze is often not achieved at turn-transition-relevant places. Furthermore, in interactions involving dementia, gaze may not unhesitatingly be relied upon as a method for indicating availability or unavailability for conversation (Rasmussen et al., 2019). Studies that concern how visual impairment impacts interaction contribute impor­ tant insights to research on gaze behaviour. For example, they target an understanding of how turns-at-talk are organized in face-to-face interaction when eyes cannot meet; how engagements with objects in interaction with co-present others are organized; how digital “mediated” interaction is organized; how engagements with the physical environment in the co-presence of others are organized; as well as, of course, how non-vocal embodied interaction is organized when one participant is walking with a white stick and/or a guide dog, while co-present sighted people are not.

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

231

The significance of current and future research in gaze behaviour

Research in language-, communication- and cognitive disorders has found that the asymmetrical distribution of resources for interaction often results in an asymmet­ rical distribution of types of turns-at-talk. In other words, participants with speechand language disorders produce more (minimal) responsive turns to others’ stories than extended turns. In a sociolinguistic case study, Elisa Everts (2012) found that a blind co-participant self-selected when producing “narrative” turns, whereas the sighted co-participants’ “narrative” turns were other-selected. Studies like this sup­ port findings that demonstrate the significance of gaze behaviour for when and how co-participants ordinarily initiate, respond, extend, allocate (Mondada, 2007) or take turns-at-talk (Goodwin, 1980, 1981), and initiate and carry out repairs of ongoing or prior turns and behaviour. They open a range of relevant research ques­ tions in relation to interactions involving visual impairment and blindness, for example how are repairs of (both the self’s and the others’) actions and behaviour made relevant, and how does this unfold? How are repairables discovered? Also of interest may be similarities and differences in doing repair compared to interac­ tions involving other impairments, for example autism and Asperger’s. There is, therefore, a need for more studies of when and how co-participants with a visual impairment are (or are not) treated as possible contributors to an ongoing conversation in any given local interactional environment when they do not recognizably orient towards the details of gaze behaviour. What resources and actions do co-participants draw upon to recognizably indicate and recognize, for instance possible recipiency, (extended) speakership and other participant statuses, such as bystanders, overhearers, and eavesdroppers (Goffman, 1981), when one of the participants has to rely on the sense of hearing, and thus on the meaning potentials of audible behaviour? In an exploratory study, Sharon Avital and Jürgen Streeck (2011) describe how visually impaired students employ what the authors call audible gestures, that is behavioural resources and techniques that can be heard, to indicate not only the students’ locations, but also their stances with regard to the context and topic at hand. How does interactional behaviour result in producing and treating people with impairments as (non)relevant, (in)competent conversationalists, whether in a clini­ cal (Maynard and Marlaire, 1992) or any other social context (Kovarsky et al., 1999; Rasmussen et al., 2012)? Maija Hirvonen’s Chapter 4 (this volume) is a com­ pelling contribution to the investigations in this area. It focuses on how visually impaired people participate in the audio-description of films and TV programmes in interaction with sighted people, to enhance the understandability and style of the media being produced. In contrast, Gitte Rasmussen (Rasmussen, 2022) notices that people with visual impairment may, in other contexts, that is in care units for persons diagnosed with dementia, not be treated as possible conversational­ ists at all. Conversation initiations are conventionally preceded by interlocutors, and by the potential conversationalists’ coordination of gaze behaviour and other visual behaviour (Kendon, 1973; Mondada, 2009), which they treat as indica­ tions of interest or disinterest in exchanges of talk (Goffman, 1963, 1981). The

232

Gitte Rasmussen

coordination of gaze behaviour begins as soon as one person enters a room in which other persons are co-present and is decisive for whether or not co-present individu­ als exchange greetings (Rasmussen et al., 2019). Louise Lüchow (Chapter 5, this volume) contributes very interesting insights to this topic. She demonstrates how a visually impaired person orients to co-present sighted persons through embodied actions aimed at doing being a possible recipient, which results in subsequent talk being directed to the visually impaired person. The studies point to how blindness and visual impairment impact actions in interaction leading to talk, and how gaze behaviour is therefore significant for participation and social inclusion. The (lack of) initiation and the organization of interactions involving blindness or visual impairment mean that it is of paramount importance to investigate the reflexive relation between social (“atypical”) category, (“atypical”) actions, and (“atypi­ cal”) behaviour, as oriented to by participants in interaction. Also, the analysis and discussion by Jürgen Streeck and Rachel Chen (Chapter 7, this volume) of how sighted individuals understand visually impaired children’s repetitive motor behav­ iour in school make investigations of this kind pertinent. The authors argue that seeing this behaviour as a way in which the children engage with and appropriate the material world and create a secure place within it may be more apt for capturing what the children do, rather than conceptualizing it as stereotypical and striving to make the children abandon it. Interactions involving no talk at all

Just as members of society organize social activities through talk-in-interaction, they also organize activities in which talk is not used as a resource at all. There exists extensive research literature in “atypical interaction”, with an interest in com­ municative competences, that considers the co-participants’ use of “non-verbal” resources that accompany, preface, or alternate with talk. By contrast, research into how a condition influences how people interact in various everyday situations – for example navigating and avoiding collision in the streets (Mondada, 2014; Wolfinger, 1995) and in self-service shops (Rasmussen and Kristiansen, 2022); establishing interactional spaces (De Stefani and Mondada, 2018); observing arte­ facts in museums (vom Lehn et al., 2001); or examining products in supermarkets, as well as the consequences of such interactions (Clark and Pinch, 2010) – is scarce (see, however, Krummheuer, 2019; Rasmussen, 2023). Some of the gaps in this field are filled by research into how visually impaired people interact with sighted people when co-orchestrating conduct in shared spaces, such as pedestrian crossings or sidewalks. Marc Relieu (Chapter 2, this volume) shows this in his chapter on how passers-by approach visually impaired people with information queries. These initiations of exchanges of talk are responses to visually impaired people’s embodied displays of trouble when trying to cross the street. The embodied displays may therefore be understood as ways of recruit­ ing help (Kendrick and Drew, 2016). Brian Due and Simon Lange (2017) study how sighted and blind pedestrians organize their walking trajectories to avoid col­ lision in orderly and accountable ways. Their study shows, in line with research

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

233

in “talk-in-atypical-interaction”, how resources are distributed in ways that differ from normalized interaction, which results in sighted pedestrians moving aside to give space to the visually impaired person, the guide dog, and the white stick used to avoid obstacles. It shows how members orient to each other’s multimodal and embodied engagement with the material world, as indicated through embodied mul­ timodal responses in interaction – sometimes followed (or accompanied) by mem­ bers’ descriptions and analysis of the behaviour and actions (Rasmussen, 2018). The role of material things in social activities and interaction

Blindness and visual impairment may influence how material things are used for social activities and interaction. Things in the environment are “phenomenally available to us by way of our senses” (Day and Wagner, 2019: xiv), and EM/CA studies have shown how participants in interaction ordinarily make them relevant for actions, interaction, and activities by naming, touching, manipulating, and pointing and referring to them (Richardson and Stokoe, 2014; Nevile et al., 2014). The studies demonstrate how things are embedded in emerging courses of action in interactions and activities and, moreover, how co-participants unhesitatingly accomplish these actions verbally, bodily, and sensorily (Mondada, 2020). How­ ever, the co-participants’ ordinary methods for turning things into resources in copresent face-to-face interaction presuppose the ability to see – and, moreover, the ability to engage in ordinary practices of seeing in specific ways (Goodwin, 2000). In the realm of current “atypical interaction” research, research into how things become a resource for action and interaction is overwhelmingly concerned with how they are used to alternate or augment spoken language, or to initiate and gen­ erate topics for conversation, or how they may involve particular interactional practices and forms of engagement (Day and Rasmussen, 2019). The “things” that have been in focus so far include graphic resources, in terms of pens and paper (Wilkinson et al., 2011), letters (Rasmussen, 2013), pictures and photos (Aaltonen et al., 2014, 2019), and communication boards (Norén and Pilesjö, 2016; Norén et al., 2013). The research in interaction involving blindness and visual impairment adds a range of interesting and important topics to this area. Due, Sakaida, Nisisawa, and Minami (Chapter 8, this volume) show how visually impaired people engage with co-present individuals to detect obstacles when navigating, as they orient to a distribution of perceptions (Due, 2021). Whether in urban environments or in semi-experimental settings, they and co-present (acquainted) others draw upon others’ sense of sight and orient towards it in their talk. This talk may involve other people’s announcements of upcoming barriers on a walking path, or the visually impaired participants’ own reports of audible feedback from a device that measures and gives information about the environment. It also demonstrates how the co-par­ ticipants engage in sequences of interaction through which they seek to “see” the environment in the “same” way, and how the blind co-participant embeds recogniz­ able scanning techniques in these sequences of interaction, for example sweeping their arms, touching the object, or using the white stick.

234

Gitte Rasmussen

The chapter by Dirk vom Lehn (Chapter 9, this volume) also contributes to this line of investigation. Building on his previous extensive research into visits to museums and galleries (vom Lehn and Heath, 2007; vom Lehn, 2013; Patel et al., 2016), the chapter explores how (sighted) people achieve an intersubjective under­ standing of the artworks that they look at and examine through interaction (see also Kreplak and Mondémé, 2014). It analyzes how interactions between visually impaired visitors and sighted guides are organized in terms of coordinating and interweaving, for example tactile explorations and descriptions of the works of art.7 This kind of research opens up for an almost inexhaustible range of research topics, for example when and how are scanning activities and tactile explora­ tions relevant and made relevant for interaction with sighted participants? When and how are they made relevant in interactions with which kinds of technology? How are scanning, inspections, and particular techniques for touching things (for instance through tapping) embedded in ongoing interactions or activities? When and how are tactile sensations made relevant in interactions involving only sighted people, compared to interactions involving visually impaired people? How are tac­ tile sensations “done” in interaction? How do they affect the flow of human–human (Cekaite and Mondada, 2020) or interspecies interaction (Mondémé, 2020)? Are they turned into topics of talk? If so, how? When and how are objects dealt with, and how are interactions and the environments in which they play a role oriented to and organized? How does visual impairment affect how salespersons and cus­ tomers organize workspaces on service desks in shops (Kristiansen and Rasmus­ sen, 2023) and other working environments (Day and Rasmussen, 2019)? How are objects at a distance made relevant in interactions involving visual impairment? How are objects in close proximity made relevant (Goldin-Meadow, 2003; Iverson et al., 2000)? In other words, how do blindness and visual impairments affect engagement with objects as part of interactions with other human beings and/or with a guide dog (Due and Lange, 2017)? Interaction involving digital technologies

The use of digital technologies is a topic of concern for research in “atypical inter­ action” involving speech-, language-, and communication disorders. The studies to date have focused primarily on the use of technologies designed and developed to alternate with or augment communication that is challenged due to speech- or language disorders, that is speech-generating devices. Several studies concern the use of voice output communicating aid (VOCA) (e.g. Clarke and Wilkinson, 2007, 2008, 2010; Engelke and Higginbotham, 2013; Higginbotham and Wilkins, 1999; Pilesjö and Norén, 2017; Norén and Pilesjö, 2016). These studies demonstrate, for instance, how the processes of operating the device to compose sentences results not only in a loss of interactional progressivity, but also, as previously mentioned, the withdrawal of the operator’s gaze, which may result in interactional misalign­ ment. As such, further work may be required to maintain the operator’s role as an accountable, autonomous principal (Goffman, 1981) of the talk generated through VOCA (Auer et al., 2000).

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

235

In addition, a few studies have emerged that focus on other augmentative and alternative communication devices. In a CA-informed case study with a quantita­ tive dimension, Elias Ingebrand and colleagues (Ingebrand et al., 2020) describe, for instance how a woman diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and her husband engage with mainstream technology – specifically, an iPad and the application GoTalkNOW, which is designed to work like a communication book with personal pictures and videos. The purpose of the study is to demonstrate that persons with dementia can learn. However, the augmenting technologies in these studies are rather ocularcentric. Interestingly, mainstream digital technologies have been seeking to address this problem for years via their research and design (Shinohara and Tenenberg, 2009; Simonnet et al., 2019). This has led to the development of specific software appli­ cations, for example screen readers that convey to people what is displayed on the screen, through text-to-speech software, or a refreshable Braille display8 that allows visually impaired people to read and type using a keyboard and a tactile and/or acoustic display. Some areas of research in the software field advocate for universal designs for digital platforms so that they are accessible to anyone, that is regardless of (dis)ability, in different situations, and under various circumstances (Capiel, 2014; Summers et al., 2012). Developments of these kinds may well be based on insights from EM/CA studies of multimodal interaction, as pointed out by, for example Abrahamson, Siu, and Floyd (Abrahamson et al., 2019). The use of digital platforms, including mainstream platforms and devices, by individuals who have been diagnosed with an impairment, no matter the type, gives rise to a range of important research questions. For example: The use of mainstream digital platforms may well be used in the co-presence of others, and as such impact the organization of interaction between co-present inter­ locutors. Visual impairment can affect interaction when, for example refreshable Braille displays or screen readers are used, or when co-present others read the screen for non-sighted participants in interaction. Ann Merrit Rikke Nielsen (Chapter 6, this volume) contributes to this line of investigation. Her chapter describes how users of new technologies construct identities in interaction with sighted, co-present coparticipants, such that actions dealing with technological issues are assumed to fit, and how membership categories (“blind” or “visually impaired”) are both resisted and made relevant. In addition, the chapter by Brian Due, Rui Sakaida, Hiro Yuki Nisisawa, and Yasusuke Minami (Chapter 8, this volume) exemplifies the interest in this area, in that the authors describe how a visually impaired participant responds to audible inputs from a smartphone that she holds in her hand. The phone has an appli­ cation that measures distances to objects and alerts the user to possible obstacles. The chapter shows how the visually impaired participant simultaneously interacts with a co-present instructor. Incidentally, the studies by Nielsen and by Due, Sakaida, Nisisawa, and Minami that deal with instruction, teaching, and training have some common interests with other (intervention and classroom) studies involving other impairments in “atypical interaction” research (e.g. Pilesjö and Norén, 2017). Digital platforms are used to mediate interaction with others, for example for shopping (Rasmussen et al., u. review), chatting (Andersen, 2015), or dating

236

Gitte Rasmussen

purposes (Licoppe, 2020). When examining life with an impairment, EM/CA research in “atypical” multimodal interaction must examine how impairments may impact these kinds of mediated interaction. However, the use of digital platforms has become part of daily life, including for purposes other than interacting with other human beings. The platforms are designed to respond to the ways in which users operate them. For example the system may be designed to recognize that when the key “G” is activated on the keyboard, it should represent the character “G” on screen or through digital speech such as with screen readers (/g/). It may also be designed to recognize a string of characters, that is characters in a context, and search to find and represent suggested responses to this string, such as when the user searches in browsers or chats with a bot when e-shopping. In these latter cases, the responses may be provided in terms of text (“gloves”), or speech (/glə́vz/), for example by way of the intelligent virtual assistants Siri and Alexa. The operators’ engagement with digital systems that are designed to browse and represent sug­ gested responses are ordinarily categorized by programmers and recognized by users as a specific form of interaction, as reflected in the name of the research field: human–computer interaction (HCI). This is a specific type of interaction that, of course, differs from human–human and interspecies interaction. In fact, engaging in digital interaction has become mundane, at least among some social groups, who in and through their responses to the digital system, treat its responses as accountable, that is explicable and intelligible (Garfinkel, 2002). However, it is unlikely that they hold the system, rather than its developer or vendor, accountable for its errors and omissions. EM/CA research in digital interaction that branches out from this field to cover digital interactions involving impairments contributes crucial insights, not only into the digital research field but also into research in (social) life with impair­ ments, for example aphasia, cerebral palsy, dementia, and visual impairment. The interesting chapter by Nielsen (Chapter 6, this volume) on how visually impaired people deal with technological challenges exemplifies studies of this kind. Conclusion As with EM/CA research in “normalized interactions” in everyday life, EM/CA research in the specific programme named “atypical interaction” is a diverse field (Maynard and Clayman, 1991). It brings together researchers from linguistics, language studies, speech- and language pathology, sociology, and psychology. It entails studies of action-construction, the organization of interaction and activities, membership categorization, etc., involving a range of impairments. It applies CA findings or uses ethnographic and EM/CA approaches with a more general interest in human sociality. Moreover, it uses EM/CA for the purpose of investigating how co-participants draw upon a variety of “modes” for the purpose of action construc­ tion and the organization of activities, that is to investigate multimodal interac­ tion. The impairments in question are mostly diagnosed, and the research examines how these impairments manifest in social interaction, and how individuals with these impairments manoeuvre through their daily routine. Specifically, the research investigates how co-participants respond to these impairments; how they ascribe

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

237

meaning to each other’s behaviour; and how they assign social categories to each other. The scope of the research is not limited to specific types of impairments, and it encompasses any type of interactional work aimed at establishing social order. By examining these interactions, this area of study contributes to a better understanding of aspects of basic human socialities, as noted by Brian Due in the introduction to this book in relation to the study of visually impaired people. As such, studies of this kind represent a valuable resource for professionals working in fields such as health, rehabilitation, teaching, pedagogy, and society (see also Maynard and Turowetz, 2022b), as well as anyone interested in the fundamental aspects of human interaction. This book is an important addition to the “atypical interaction” research programme. It presents significant findings related to how individuals with visual impairment navigate everyday life. Based on EM/CA analysis of real-life interac­ tions, it provides insights into “atypical” navigation, object perception, and social inclusion as locally produced through interaction. By providing detailed accounts of how individuals with visual impairments manage their environment and social interactions, the book contains a treasure trove of insights into the challenges they face and the strategies they use to overcome them, which professionals can use to improve their understanding of social interaction and better support individuals with visual impairment in their daily lives. However, the book also challenges our understanding of human cooperation and sense-making, making it an important reference for anyone interested in human interaction and social dynamics. Notes 1 “For the purpose of action construction” means that co-participants and members of soci­ ety ordinarily ascribe “intentions”, “motives”, and “purposes” to each other’s actions. In other words, it does not claim that the participants have, for example “intentions” at the onset of a given action. 2 “Adequately” means that members of society treat the actions as not adequately fitted. 3 It is not the aim of this section to represent all research in the field. The list of interesting works is far larger than space allows. 4 AIC conferences were held 1997, 2013, and 2022 in the UK, 2016 in Denmark, and 2019 in Finland. 5 In accordance with research in multimodality (see Kress GR (2010) Multimodality: A So­ cial Semiotic Approach to Contemporary Communication. London: Routledge), many researchers in multimodal interaction conceptualize the available resources for action construction as semiotic. 6 Voice output communication aid. 7 Engagements with works of art are increasingly attracting practical and political interest, including in the area of dementia (www.matiafundazioa.eus/en/blog/cultural-mediation­ dementia-international-approach), and studies are being carried out in this area, too (see, e.g. Isaac, A. and Hamilton, H.E. (2020)). Meaningfulness at the intersection of knowl­ edge and environmental objects: Investigating interactions in art galleries and residences involving persons with dementia and their carers. In: Strickle T (ed.) Learning from the Talk of Persons with Dementia: A Practical Guide on Interaction and Interactional Re­ search. London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 135–163). 8 An electro-mechanical device for displaying Braille characters. Braille is a tactile writing system.

238

Gitte Rasmussen

References Aaltonen, T., Arminen, I. and Raudaskoski, S. (2014). Photo Sharing as a Joint Activity. In: M. Nevile, P. Haddington, T. Heinemann, et al. (eds.), Interacting with Objects: Lan­ guage, Materiality, and Social Activity. Amsterdam: Benjamins, pp. 125–144. Abrahamson, D., Flood, V.J., Miele, J. and Siu, Y.-T. (2019). Enactivism and ethnometh­ odological conversation analysis as tools for expanding Universal Design for Learning: The case of visually impaired mathematics students. ZDM: The International Journal on Mathematics Education 51: 291–303. Andersen, E.M. (2015). What’s Your Problem? On How Participants Understand and Deal with Experienced Bodily Problems in an Online Discussion Forum about Metabolism – A Contribution to Micro-Analytic Research that Investigate Online Data. Odense: Uni­ versity of Southern Denmark. Andersen, E.M., Kristiansen, E.D. and Rasmussen, G. (2019). Routines of ‘sitting’ and ‘enjoying ourselves’ in the common room of a dementia unit. Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology 44(1): 23–30. Antaki, C. and Wilkinson, R. (2013). Conversation Analysis and the Study of Atypical Pop­ ulations. In: J. Sidnell and T. Stivers (eds.), The Handbook of Conversation Analysis. Chichester: John Wiley & Sons, Ltd. Auer, P., Bauer, A. and Hörmeyer, I. (2000). How Can the ‘Autonomous Speaker’ Survive in Atypical Interaction? The Case of Anarthria and Aphasia. In: R. Wilkinson, J. Rae and G. Rasmussen (eds.), Atypical Interaction: The Impact of Communicative Impairments within Everyday Talk. London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 373–408. Barnes, S.E., Candlin, C.N. and Ferguson, A. (2013). Aphasia and topic initiation in conversation: A case study. International Journal of Language & Communication Disorders 48(1): 102–114. Birdwhistell, R.L. (1970). Kinesics and Context: Essays on Body Motion Communication. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press. Broth, M. and Mondada, L. (2013). Walking away: The embodied achievement of activity closings in mobile interaction. Journal of Pragmatics 47: 41–58. Brouwer, C.E. and Rasmussen, G. (2019). Piling up and spelling out! Repair work in challenged interaction. RASK – International Journal of Language and Communication 50: 17–42. Capiel, G. (2014). Born accessible. Journal of Electronic Publishing. https://doi.org/10.3998/ 3336451.0017.121. Cekaite, A. and Mondada, L. (2020). Touch in Social Interaction: Touch, Language, and Body. London: Routledge. Clark, C. and Pinch, T. (2010). Some Major Organisational Consequences of Some ‘Minor’ Organised Conduct: Evidence from a Video Analysis of Pre-verbal Service Encounters in a Showroom Retail Store. In: N. Llewellyn and J. Hindmarsh (eds.), Organisation, Interaction and Practice: Studies of Ethnomethodology and Conversation Analysis. Cam­ bridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 140–171. Clarke, M. and Wilkinson, A. (2008). Interaction between children with cerebral palsy and their peers 2: Understanding initiated VOCA-mediated turns. Augmentative and Alterna­ tive Communication 24(1): 1–15. Clarke, M. and Wilkinson, R. (2010). Speaker Transfer in Non-Speaking Children’s Peer Conversation: Time, Timing and the Use of Voice Output Communication Aids. In: H. Gardner and M. Forrester (eds.), Analysing Interactions in Childhood: Insights from Con­ versation Analysis. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell, pp. 249–266. Clarke, M.T. and Wilkinson, R. (2007). Interaction between children with cerebral palsy and their peers 1: Organizing and understanding VOCA use. Augmentative and Alternative Communication 23(1): 336–348.

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

239

Clayman, S.E. (2013). Turn-Constructional Units and the Transition-Relevent place. In: J. Sidnell and T. Stivers (eds.), The Handbook of Conversation Analysis. Oxford: WileyBlackwell, pp. 151–166. Day, D. and Rasmussen, G. (2019). Interactional Consequences of Object Possession in Institutional Practices. In: D. Day and J. Wagner (eds.), Objects, Bodies and Work Prac­ tice. Bristol, Blue Ridge Summit: Multilingual Matters, pp. 87–112. Day, D. and Wagner, J. (eds.). (2019). Objects, Bodies and Work Practice. Language at Work (Vol. 3). Bristol, Blue Ridge Summit: Multilingual. Deppermann, A. (2013). Conversation analytic studies of multimodal interaction. Journal of Pragmatics 46(1): 1–172. De Stefani, E. and Mondada, L. (2018). Encounters in public space: How acquainted versus unacquainted persons establish social and spatial arrangements. Research on Language and Social Interaction 51(3): 248–270. Due, B.L. (2021), Distributed perception: Co-operation between sense-able, actionable, and accountable semiotic agents. Symbolic Interaction 44(1): 134–162. Due, B.L. and Lange, S.B. (2017). The Moses effect: The spatial hierarchy and joint accom­ plishment of a blind person navigating. Space & Culture 1–16. Engelke, C. and Higginbotham, D.J. (2013). Looking to speak: On the temporality of mis­ alignment in interaction involving an augmented communicator using eye-gaze technol­ ogy. Journal of Interactional Research in Communication Disorders 4: 95–122. Everts, E.L. (2012). In the Face of blindness: Negotiating Identity and Relationship in Blind/Sighted Interaction. Doctor of Philosophy in Linguistics. Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, Georgetown University. Garfinkel, H. (2002). Ethnomethodology’s Program: Working out Durkheim’s Aphorism. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Garfinkel, H. and Wieder, D.L. (1992). Two Incommensurable, Asymmetrically Alternate Technologies of Social Analysis. In: G. Watson and R.M. Seiler (eds.), Text in Context: Studies in Ethnomethodology. Newbury Park, CA: SAGE, pp. 175–206. Goffman, E. (1963). Behavior in Public Places: Notes on the Social Organization of Gather­ ings. New York: The Free Press. Goffman, E. (1981). Forms of Talk. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press. Goldin-Meadow, S. (2003). Hearing Gesture: How Hands Help Us Think. Cambridge, MA and London: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Goode, D. (1994). A World Without Words. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press. Goodwin, C. (1980). Processes of mutual monitoring implicated in the production of description sequences. Sociological Inquiry 50: 303–317. Goodwin, C. (1981). Conversational Organization. New York: Academic Press. Goodwin, C. (2000). Practices of Seeing: Visual Analysis: An Ethnomethodological Approach. In: T.V. Leeuwen and C. Jewitt (eds.), Handbook of Visual Analysis. London: SAGE, pp. 157–182. Goodwin, C. (2003). The Body in Action. In: J. Coupland and R. Gwyn (eds.), Discourse, the Body and Identity. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 19–42. Heath, C. (1984). Talk and Recipiency: Sequential Organization in Speech and Body Move­ ment. In: J.M. Atkinson and J. Heritage (eds.), Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Helasvuo, M.-L., Laakso, M. and Sorjonen, M.-L. (2004). Searching for words: Syntactic and sequential construction of word search in conversations of Finnish speakers with aphasia. Research in Language and Social Interaction 37(1): 1–37.

240

Gitte Rasmussen

Higginbotham, D.J. and Wilkins, D.P. (1999). Slipping Through the Timestream: Social Issues of Time and Timing in Augmented Interaction. In: D. Kovarsky, J. Duchan and M. Maxwell (eds.), Constructing (In)competence. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, pp. 49–82. Housley, W. and Fitzgerald, R. (2009). Membership categorization, culture and norms in action. Discourse & Society 20(3): 345–362. Hörmeyer, I. (2012). The Importance of Gaze in the Constitution of Units in Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC). In: J. Bergmann, M. Pfeiffer and W. Reber (eds.), Prosody and Embodiment in Interactional Grammar. Berlin: de Gruyter, pp. 237–264. Ingebrand, E., et al. (2020). A person living with dementia learning to navigate an iPad: A case study. Disability and Rehabilitation: Assistive Technology 1–9. Isaac, A. and Hamilton, H.E. (2020). Meaningfulness at the Intersection of Knowledge and Environmental Objects: Investigating Interactions in Art Galleries and Residences Involving Persons with Dementia and Their Carers. In: T. Strickle (ed.), Learning from the Talk of Persons with Dementia: A Practical Guide on Interaction and Interactional Research. London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 135–163. Iverson, J.M., Tencer, H.L., Lany, J. and Goldin-Meadow, S. (2000). The relation between gesture and speech in congenitally blind and sighted language-learners. Journal of Non­ verbal Behavior 24: 105–130. Kendon, A. (1973). The Role of Visible Behavior in the Organisation of Social Interaction. In: M. von Cranach and I. Vine (eds.), Social Communication and Movement. London: Academic Press, pp. 29–74. Kendrick, K. and Drew, P. (2016). Recruitment: Offers, requests, and the organization of assistance in interaction. Research on Language & Social Interaction 49(1): 1–19. Korkiakangas, T. and Rae, J. (2014). The interactional use of eye-gaze in children with autism spectrum disorders. Interaction Studies 15(2): 233–259. Kovarsky, D., Duchan, J.F. and Maxwell, M. (1999). Constructing (In)Competence: Disa­ bling Evaluations in Clinical and Social Interaction. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Kreplak, Y. and Mondémé, C. (2014). Artworks as Touchable Objects: Guiding Perception in a Museum Tour for Blind People. In: M. Nevile, P. Haddington, T. Heinemann and Rauniomaa, M. (eds.), Interacting with Objects: Language, Materiality and Social Activ­ ity. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company, pp. 295–318. Kress, G.R. and Leeuwen, T.V. (2001). Multimodal Discourse: The Modes and Media of Contemporary Communication. London: Edward Arnold. Kristiansen, E.D. and Rasmussen, G. (2023). Would You Like a Bag for That? Environ­ mental Awareness and Changing Practices for Closing Buying and Selling Encounters in Retail Shopping. Pragmatics & Society 14(1): 143–169. Krummheuer, A.L. (2019). Instrumental and Moral Assistance: An Embodied Interaction Analysis of Assisted Shopping Activities Between a Person With Acquired Brain Injury and Her Caregivers. Pragmatics and Society. Laakso, M. (2020). Repair Organization in Linguistically Asymmetric Interaction: Compar­ ing Child-Parent Conversations and Conversations Involving Speakers With Aphasia. In: R. Wilkinson, J. Rae and G. Rasmussen (eds.), Atypical Interaction: The Impact of Com­ municative Impairments Within Everyday Talk. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 257–288. Licoppe, C. (2020). Liquidity and attachment in the mobile hookup culture. A comparative study of contrasted interactional patterns in the main uses of Grindr and Tinder. Journal of Cultural Economy 13(1): 73–90. Majlesi, A.R. and Ekström, A. (2016). Baking together – The coordination of actions in activities involving people with dementia. Journal of Aging Studies (38): 37–46. Maynard, D.W. and Clayman, S. (1991). The diversity of ethnomethodology. Annual Review of Sociology 17: 385–318.

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

241

Maynard, D.W. and Marlaire, C.L. (1992). Good Reasons for Bad Testing Performance: The Interactional Substrate of Educational Exams. Qualitative Sociology 15(2): 177–202. Maynard, D.W. and Turowetz, J. (2020). Sequence and Consequence: Transposing Responsive Actions into Provocations in Forensic and Clinical Encounters Involving Youths with Autism. In: R. Wilkinson, J. Rae and G. Rasmussen (eds.), Atypical Interaction: The Impact of Com­ municative Impairments within Everyday Talk. London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 39–63. Maynard, D.W. and Turowetz, J. (2022a). Autistic Intelligence: Interaction, Individuality, and the Challenges of Diagnosis. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press. Maynard, D.W. and Turowetz, J.J. (2022b). Ethnomethodology and Atypical Interaction: The Case of Autism. In: D.W. Maynard and J. Heritage (eds.), The Ethnomethodology Program: Legacies and Prospects. online edn. New York: Oxford Academic. Merrison, S. and Merrison, A.J. (2005). Repair in speech and language therapy interaction: Investigating pragmatic language impairment in children. Child Language Teaching and Therapy 21: 191–211. Meyer, C., Streeck, J. and Jordan, J.S. (2017). Intercorporeality: Emerging Socialities in Interaction. New York: Oxford University Press. Mikesell, L. (2010). Repetitional responses in frontotemporal dementia discourse: Asserting agency or demonstrating confusion. Discourse Studies 12(4): 465–500. Mondada, L. (2007). Multimodal resources for turn-taking: Pointing and the emergence of possible next speakers. Discourse Studies 9(2): 195–226. Mondada, L. (2009). Emergent focused interactions in public places: A systematic analysis of the multimodal achievement of a common interactional space. Journal of Pragmatics 41(10): 1977–1997. Mondada, L. (2014). Bodies in action: Multimodal analysis of walking and talking. Lan­ guage and Dialogue 4(3): 357–403. Mondada, L. (2019a). Contemporary issues in conversation analysis. Embodiment and materiality, multimodality and multisensoriality in social interaction. Journal of Prag­ matics 145: 47–62. Mondada, L. (2019b). Rethinking Bodies and Objects in Social Interaction: A Multimodal and Multisensorial Approach to Tasting. In: U.T. Kissmann and J. van Loon (eds.), Dis­ cussing New Materialism: Methodological Implications for the Study of Materialities. Wiesbaden: Springer Verlag, pp. 109–134. Mondada, L. (2020). Orchestrating multi-sensoriality in tasting sessions: Sensing bodies, normativity, and language. Symbolic Interaction 44(1): 63–86. Mondémé, C. (2020). Touching and Petting: Exploring “Haptic Sociality” in Interspecies Interaction. In: A. Cekaite and L. Mondada (eds.), Touch in Social Interaction: Touch, Language and Body. Abingdon, Oxon; New York: Routledge, pp. 171–196. Nevile, M., Haddington, P., Heinemann, T., Rauniomaa, M. (2014). Interacting with Objects: Language, Materiality, and Social Activity. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Norén, N. and Pilesjö, M.S. (2016). Supporting a child with multiple disabilities to partici­ pate in social interaction: The case of asking a question. Clinical Linguistics & Phonetics 10: 790–811. Norén, N., Samuelsson, C. and Plejert, C. (2013). Aided Communication in Everyday Inter­ action. London: J&R Press. Ochs, E., Schegloff, E.A. and Thompson, S.A. (1996). Interaction and Grammar. Cam­ bridge; New York: Cambridge University Press. Patel, M., Heath, C., Luff, P., vom Lehn, D. and Cleverly, J. (2016). Playing with words: Creativity and interaction in museums and galleries. Museum Management and Curatorship 31(1): 69–86.

242

Gitte Rasmussen

Pilesjö, M.S. and Norén, N. (2017). Teaching communication aid use in everyday conversa­ tion. Child Language Teaching and Therapy 33(3): 241–253. Pilesjö, M.S. and Rasmussen, G. (2011). Exploring interaction between a non-speaking boy using aided AAC and his everyday communication partners: Features of turn organizing and turn design. Journal of Interactional Research in Communication Disorders 2(2). Psathas, G. (1995). Conversation Analysis: The Study of Talk-in-Interaction. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE. Rapley, M. (2004). The Social Construction of Intellectual Disability. Cambridge: Cam­ bridge University Press. Rasmussen, G. (2013). That’s my story! Resisting disabling processes in a therapeutic activ­ ity. Journal of Interactional Research in Communication Disorders 4(2): 273–298. Rasmussen, G. (2018). On the social constraints of having a world. RASK: International Jour­ nal of Language and Communication (7, Special Issue: The World at Your Feet): 79–107. Rasmussen, G. (2023). Analyzing interaction involving wheelchairs: Configuring ´inter­ actional spaces to engage in activity and initiate conversation. Journal of Interactional Research in Communication Disorders 14(2): 328–355. Rasmussen, G. (2022). Meningsfuldhed er noget vi skaber sammen – har du talt med bebo­ eren med demens i dag? In: J. Emiliussen and S.H. Klausen (eds.), Ældrevelfærd – sam­ tidsperspektiver på aldring og det gode liv. Aalborg: Aalborg Universitetsforlag. Rasmussen, G., Andersen, E.M. and Kristiansen, E.D. (2019). Working out availability, una­ vailability, and awayness in social face-to-face encounters: The case of dementia. Dis­ course Studies 21(3): 258–279. Rasmussen, G., Brouwer, C.E. and Day, D. (2012). Evaluating Cognitive Competences in Interac­ tion. Pragmatics and Beyond New Series. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Rasmussen, G., Hazel, S. and Mortensen, K. (eds.). (2014). A body of resources: CA studies in social conduct. Journal of Pragmatics 65: 1–156. Rasmussen, G. and Kristiansen, E.D. (2022). The sociality of minimizing involvement in self-service shops in Denmark: Customers’ multi-modal practices of being, getting and staying out of the way. Discourse & Communication 16(2): 200–232. Richardson, E. and Stokoe, E.H. (2014). The Order of Ordering: Objects, Requests and Embodied Conduct in a Public Bar. In: M. Nevile, P. Haddington, T. Heinemann, and Rauniomaa, M. (eds.), Interacting with Objects: Language, Materiality, and Social Activ­ ity. Amsterdam; Philadelphia, PA: John Benjamins, pp. 31–56. Robillard, A.B. (1999). Meaning of a Disability: The Lived Experience of Paralysis. Phila­ delphia, PA: Temple University Press. Rossano, F. (2012). Gaze Behaviour in Face-to-Face Interaction. Nijmegen: Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics Series. Sacks, H. (1995). Lectures on Conversation. Oxford: Blackwell. Sacks, H., Schegloff, E. and Jefferson, G. (1974). A simplest systematics for the organiza­ tion of turn-taking for conversation. Language 50. Schegloff, E. (1996). Confirming allusions: Toward an empirical account of action. Ameri­ can Journal of Sociology 102(1): 161–216. Schegloff, E. (2007). A tutorial on membership categorization. Journal of Pragmatics 39: 462–482. Schegloff, E., Jefferson, G. and Sacks, H. (1977). The preference for self-correction in the organization of repair for conversation. Language 53: 361–382. Schegloff, E. and Sacks, H. (1973). Opening up closings. Semiotica 8(4): 289–327. Schegloff, E.A. (2007b). Sequence Organization in Interaction: A Primer in Conversation Analysis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Visual impairment in the field of “atypical interaction research”

243

Schienberg, S. and Holland, A. (1980). Conversational Turn-Taking in Wernicke’s Aphasia. In: R. Brookshire (ed.), Clinical Physiology Conference. Minneapolis, MN: BRK, pp. 106–110. Schutz, A. (1945). On multiple realities. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 5(4): 533–576. Shinohara, K. and Tenenberg, J. (2009). A blind person’s interactions with technology. Com­ munications of the ACM 52(8): 58–66. Simonnet, M., Brock, A.M., Serpa, A., Oriola, B. and Jouffrais, C. (2019). Comparing inter­ action techniques to help blind people explore maps on small tactile devices. Multimodal Technologies and Interaction 3(27): 1–18. Smith, M. S. (2010). Exploring the Moral Bases of Frontotemporal Dementia through Social Action. In: A. Mates, W. L. Mikesell and M. S. Smith (eds.), Language, Interaction and Frontotemporal Dementia. London: Equinox, pp. 49–84. Streeck, J. (2017). Self-Making Man: A Day of Action, Life, and Language. New York: Cam­ bridge University Press. Streeck, J., Goodwin, C. and LeBaron, C.D. (2011). Embodied Interaction: Language and Body in the Material World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Summers, E., Langston, J., Allison, R., Cowley, J. (2012). Using SAS/GRAPH to create visualizations that also support tactile and auditory interaction. SAS Global Forum 12. Corpus ID: 9749682. Turowetz, J. and Maynard, D.W. (2017). Narrative methods for differential diagnosis in a case of autism. Symbolic Interaction 41(3): 357–383. vom Lehn, D. (2013). Withdrawing from Exhibits: The Interactional Organisation of Museum Visits. In: P. Haddington, L. Mondada and M. Nevile (eds.), Interaction and Mobility: Language and the Body in Motion. Berlin: De Gruyter, pp. 65–90. vom Lehn, D. and Heath, C. (2007). Social Interaction in Museums and Galleries: A Note on Video Based Field Studies. In: B. Barron, R. Goldman, R. Pea and S. Derry (eds.), Video and the Learning Sciences. Los Angeles; London: LEA, pp. 287–301. vom Lehn, D., Heath, C. and Hindmarsh, J. (2001). Exhibiting interaction: Conduct and col­ laboration in museums and galleries. Symbolic Interaction 24(2): 189–216. Wilkinson, R. (1999). Sequentiality as a problem and a resource for intersubjectivity in apha­ sic conversation: Analysis and implications for therapy. Aphasiology 13(4–5): 327–343. Wilkinson, R. (2019). Atypical interaction: Conversation analysis and communicative impairments. Research on Language and Social Interaction 52(3): 281–299. Wilkinson, R., Bloch, S. and Clarke, M.T. (2011). On the Use of Graphic Resources in Inter­ action by People with Communication Disorders. In: J. Streeck, C. Goodwin and C.D. LeBaron (eds.), Embodied Interaction: Language and Body in the Material. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 152–168. Wilkinson, R., Rae, J.P. and Rasmussen, G. (2020). Atypical Interaction: An Introduction. In: R. Wilkinson, J.P. Rae and G. Rasmussen (eds.), Atypical Interaction: The Impact of Com­ municative Impairments within Everyday Talk. London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 1–36. Wolfinger, N.H. (1995). Passing moments: Some social dynamics of pedestrian interaction. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography 24(3): 323–340. Yearley, S. and Brewer, J.D. (1989). Stigma and conversational competence: A conversation analytic study of the mentally handicapped. Human Studies 12: 97–115.

Index

accounting 50, 57, 82, 100, 115, 120, 132 action formation 95 affordances 11, 60, 65, 108, 137, 154, 157, 174 alleviating responsibility 115 assistance 26–48 assistive technology 15, 113–114 atypical 5, 7, 16, 89, 149, 227–236 breaching experiment 2, 8, 200–202, 222 characterization 39, 43, 155, 163–167, 169–174 cognitive 4, 10, 29, 53, 65 communication 1, 6–7, 50, 70, 228, 234–235 competences 6–7, 70, 76, 115–116, 125 co-operative 8, 10–11, 99, 156 crossing 27–38, 42–44, 54, 64, 156, 158 deictic 63, 102, 170–173 dementia 228–231 digital 96, 104, 234–236 digital literate 117–120, 125 disability studies 4–6, 116 distributed perception 10, 88 dog 9, 14, 49–65, 230, 234

help 29, 32, 37–38, 43–44, 63, 120, 206, 232 hierarchy of the senses 199–202, 212, 223 human–computer interaction (HCI) 126, 236 identity 5, 7–12, 37, 106, 112, 114–120, 123–126, 181 inclusion 3, 96, 108, 184, 232, 237 instruction 44, 55, 140, 182, 203 interspecies 49–53, 66, 229, 236 intersubjectivity 13, 92–95, 108, 134, 155 joint attention 11, 96–99, 107–108, 174 materiality 107, 201, 222 membership categorization analysis (MCA) 7, 29, 112–115, 229 mobility 3, 8–9, 26–27, 50, 113, 133, 136, 158 multisensorial 1, 71, 92, 107–108, 155, 203, 222 navigation 4, 9, 26, 50, 58, 156, 160 obstacles 49, 57–63, 155–160, 173, 233 ocularcentrism 2, 10, 13, 209, 215

excuses 115–118 experience 3, 11, 94, 126, 134, 149–150, 180–184, 193, 200–203, 222 experiment 3, 166, 199

perception 8, 10–13, 30, 57, 60, 65, 72–79, 88, 92–108 perspicuous 8, 10, 26, 32, 93, 108, 199, 216 phenomenal 8–10, 156, 203

gaze 13, 71, 75, 93–99, 102–103, 108 guide 9, 49–65, 88

recipient design 63, 92–95, 107–108 reflexive 54, 72, 92, 232 resource 13, 53, 63, 69, 83, 89, 95, 97, 107–108, 123, 126, 131, 146, 154, 187, 202, 233 respecification 10, 12, 14, 201, 222

haptic 50, 53, 60, 95, 154–158, 174 hearing 31, 71, 199 Helen’s kitchen 3, 8, 116

Index scanning 117–118, 154–155, 161, 166, 168, 172–175 sensoriality 45, 93, 95, 105, 154, 157–158, 165, 175, 200–202, 209, 212, 214, 222 social model 4, 12 tactile 6, 11, 50, 54–58, 66, 93, 96, 103–108, 120, 154–158, 162–175, 180, 187–194, 234

245

technology 52, 69, 96, 112–118, 125–126 touch 50, 53–54, 154, 157, 168, 174, 182–193, 199–203, 214 unique adequacy 14, 229 white cane 9, 29, 37, 53, 113, 155, 161, 168 white stick 230, 233