The Story of Stilton Cheese: Place-based Production and the Protected Food Names System

By Matthew J Rippon

“Morrisons Mature Blue Stilton with PDO Logo.jpg” Blue Stilton from Morrisons supermarket which displays the Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) logo (in red). Photo: Matthew J Rippon.

Blue Stilton from Morrisons supermarket which displays the Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) logo (in red). Photo: Matthew J Rippon.

In the last year, eleven British foods have been awarded Protected Food Name (PFN) status. These are Stornoway Black Pudding (Isle of Lewis), Lakeland Herdwick (Cumbrian lamb), East Kent Goldings (hops), Fenland Celery (Cambridgeshire), Fal Oysters (Cornwall), Orkney Scottish Island Cheddar, Pembrokeshire Earlies (potatoes), Yorkshire Wensleydale, West Country Beef, West Country Lamb and Anglesey Sea Salt. These join a host of British PFNs which include Cornish Clotted Cream, Jersey Royal Potatoes, Melton Mowbray Pork Pies, Stilton Cheese and Yorkshire Forced Rhubarb. The UK currently has 62 PFNs.

PFNs are the EU arm of the international Geographical Indications (GI) structure. GIs are awarded to foods, drinks and agricultural products that originate from defined locations and are made in supposedly traditional ways. The quintessential GI is Champagne. Only alcoholic beverages that derive from the Champagne region of north-eastern France and are made in accordance with la méthode traditionnelle can legally be entitled ‘Champagne’. GIs are a form of Intellectual Property (IP) which possess two unique features. First, they allow firms to, in effect, ‘own’ common geographical terms. Second, unlike trademarks and patents, GIs are a collective form of IP as any number of producers of a particular food can utilise the same geographical name.

Stilton Cheese is one of the most interesting PFNs. This is partly because it is unlawful to manufacture ‘Stilton Cheese’ in the parish of Stilton. This is due to the historical geography codified in the Stilton PFN regulation which states that the eighteenth and nineteenth century’s inhabitants of the village retailed imported cheese but never consistently generated their own outputs. Moreover, Stilton, by law, must use pasteurised milk. The PFN thus functions as a safety mechanism which prohibits firms that make raw milk cheese from ever assuming the valuable ‘Stilton’ moniker.

“Bell Inn Stilton Village.jpg” The Bell Inn in Stilton parish argued by the village campaign to be the birthplace of Stilton Cheese. Photo: Matthew J Rippon.

The Bell Inn in Stilton parish argued by the village campaign to be the birthplace of Stilton Cheese. Photo: Matthew J Rippon.

Yet the place and methods of production are currently under attack from two independent antagonists that wish to destabilise the PFN regulation. The first – the Stilton village campaign – seeks to add the parish of Stilton to the protected zone. The second – from Stichelton Dairy – aims to create unpasteurised ‘Stilton’. The Stilton Cheesemakers’ Association (SCMA), which represents the ‘genuine’ Stilton manufacturers, is demanding that the status quo be maintained.

This ongoing conflict reveals how the PFN model cements the places and production methods that use economically and culturally esteemed geographical place-names while noting that motivated actors can nonetheless challenge both the regulated geography and formalised manufacturing styles.

About the author: Dr Matthew J Rippon obtained his PhD from the School of Geography at Queen Mary, University of London.

books_icon Rippon, M. J. (2014), What is the geography of Geographical Indications? Place, production methods and Protected Food Names. Area. doi: 10.1111/area.12085

60-world2 There’s ‘Stilton’ and then there’s ‘Stilton’ cheese Food and Geography Blog 11 January 2014

60-world2 Stilton seeks right to use its own name for its cheese Daily Telegraph 18 April 2014

60-world2 War of the cheeses Telegraph Magazine 01 December 2007 (pdf)

60-world2 Stilton Cheese Protected Designation of Origin (pdf)

60-world2 Stilton Cheesemakers’ Association

The Canary Islands, a crossroads magnet in the Mid-Atlantic

by Rosalia Avila-Tàpies and Josefina Domínguez-Mujica

Port of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria (Spain). Photograph used with permission of Claudio Moreno Medina.

Port of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria (Spain). Photograph used with permission of Claudio Moreno Medina.

The geographic location of the Canary Islands has determined its historical importance in transcontinental trade and maritime traffic as a crossroads of routes in the Mid-Atlantic. For centuries, the close ties that were forged between the shores of Africa and Europe on the East and the Americas on the West ensured the position of the archipelago as a major Atlantic meeting point for different peoples and cultures from these three continents.

Moreover, due to their proximity to highly productive marine waters and their system of free ports, this location was also valued by the faraway Japanese. Therefore, as of the 1960s, the Canary Islands became the operational base of the Japanese fishing fleets in search of tuna. This gave rise to a small Japanese settlement made up of fishermen, ship repairers, traders and civil servants, who were supported by the Consulate General of Japan in Las Palmas and other institutions such as the Japanese School, the House of Japan, and even Japanese nurses at local hospitals. Despite the gradual decline in numbers, Japanese presence and social interaction left a positive impression on the islands, especially on Gran Canaria. Conversely, the migration of Japanese to the Canary Islands also has had some profound implications for them, as we have argued in our Area article. In this respect, and by using a biographical approach to the study of Japanese experiences of migration and cross-cultural processes, we confirm the acknowledgement of migration and mobility as transformative experiences that shape identities and have a deep impact on every aspect of the migrants’ lives.

During the past decades, however, the Canary Islands have become one of the most important Southern maritime borders of the European Union, a fault-line that delimits wealth and poverty. As a consequence, they have been acting as a powerful magnet for the hopes of young Africans, who enter into the territory in dramatic and vulnerable situations.

Concurrently, the Port of Las Palmas has become an important logistic platform for services for and cooperation with Africa, dispatching the most urgently needed humanitarian aid to disaster locations. In 2009, the Red Cross International Federation and Red Crescent Societies established one of their four world logistic centers in the port area of Las Palmas and the World Food Program (WFP) will create its sixth hub of the network of the United Nations Humanitarian Response Depot (UNHRD) inside the port precinct. Thus, the proximity with the African continent implies challenges and opportunities for the islands, stressing their border location as a place for the development of cooperation policies concerning migration flows and emergency responses to humanitarian crises.

The authors: Dr. Rosalia Avila-Tàpies is Researcher in Doshisha University-Japan and Dr. Josefina Domínguez-Mujica is Permanent Professor in the Department of Geography, University of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria-Spain.

books_icon Avila-Tàpies, R. and Domínguez-Mujica, J. (2014), Interpreting autobiographies in migration research: narratives of Japanese returnees from the Canary Islands (Spain). Area. doi: 10.1111/area.12081

books_icon Domínguez-Mujica J. and Avila-Tàpies R. (2013), The in-between lives of Japanese immigrants in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, Spain Gender, Place & Culture: A Journal of Feminist Geography 20-7 896-913

books_icon Avila-Tàpies R. and Domínguez-Mujica J. (2011), Canarias en el imaginario japonés: el análisis de tres narrativas contemporáneas Anuario de Estudios Atlánticos 57 525- 62

60-world2 Red Cross to use Las Palmas as logistics base, IslandConnections.eu, 26 November 2008

60-world2 WFP Joins Forces With Spain In New Initiative To Fight Hunger Worldwide, World Food Programme – News19 July 2012

 

Academic Writing and Geography Narrated

by Fiona Ferbrache

The ruins of Erskine Beveridge, is Fraser MacDonald’s (2013) narrative essay available as an early view article in Transactions. It tells the story of a house – Taigh Mòr, built by Erskine Beveridge on an intertidal island in the Outer Hebrides – and its inhabitants – the Beveridge family, who used the property as a summer retreat. It is also a first class piece of geographical writing.

Ruined_house_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1428145

House ruins (Source: Wikimedia Commons: Graham Horn)

MacDonald’s narrative non-fiction is unusual in style and form, and may at first appear unconventional for some geographers. This is not a style that appears frequently in published journals of our discipline, but may be situated within a renewed interest in literary geographies, including geographies of storytelling, and bio-geo-geography (see for example Lorimer and Wylie). In another way, the text reminded me of the personalised and enquiring travels made and recounted by Robert Macfarlane in The Old Ways. The style and methods are not dissimilar.

MacDonald’s aim in this piece is to “maintain a primary commitment to storytelling as an exemplar of geographical writing” (p.2). Yet, it goes further than this as it is inherently about (historical) geography. The deteriorating Taigh Mòr is situated at the centre of the tale, around which the lives of its inhabitants are explored and retold. The work touches at least three geographical themes: ruins, spaces of science and antiquarian knowledge, and fieldwork. The methods underpinning the ‘fieldwork’ included walking, interviewing, synthesising published sources, interpreting material remains in the landscape, and triangulating observations against other archives. Thus, the rich text is descriptive and analytical as it probes, explores and lays a thread for the reader to follow.

MacDonald argues that geographers “have some way to go before matters of form and style receive the same sort of attention currently given to methodology” (p.2). For young geographers, this commitment to storytelling, as an exemplar of geographical writing, will hopefully inspire creativity and originality, beyond geography’s more familiar writing conventions.

books_icon  MacDonald, F. 2013 The ruins of Erskine Beveridge. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers.  DOI: 10.1111/tran.12042

books_icon  Lorimer, H. 2003 Telling small stories: spaces of knowledge and the practice of geography. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 28, pp.197-217

books_icon  Wiley, J. 2009 Landscape, absence and the geographies of love. Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 34, pp.275-289

60-world2  Stylish Academic Writing – a guide

Redefining the Upper Amazon River

By James (Rocky) Contos

 

The Amazon River basin, including dark traces for each proposed source rivers: Napo, Marañón, Huallaga, Urubamba, Apurímac, and Mantaro.  Source: James Contos

The Amazon River basin, including dark traces for each proposed source rivers: Napo, Marañón, Huallaga, Urubamba, Apurímac, and Mantaro.
Source: James Contos

A full descent of the world’s largest river can be likened to a full ascent of the highest mountain, with various natural challenges along the way. The Amazon River is generally considered the mightiest river in the world because of its incredible volume (it carries over eight times as much water as the next largest river, the Congo), its maximal length (which may be slightly more than that of the Nile), and the importance of its basin for the world’s ecology. The entire Amazon River, including its source, has intrigued the public, geographers, and adventurers for centuries.

The allure of descending the Amazon goes back at least to the time of Francisco de Orellana, whose 1540 expedition started on the Napo River. Since then, dozens of expeditions have sought to travel the entire length of the Amazon. For adventurers, the location of the river’s source is critical because it defines the route, including the most difficult part of the journey through the formidable whitewater of the Andes mountains.

During most of the past century, the source of the Amazon River was considered to be the Apurimac River, based on the belief that it was the most distant upstream extension in the Amazon basin. Initial attempts to navigate the river starting in the 1950s ended in disasters with team members drowning in the difficult rapids. Although many other would-be Apurimac-Amazon adventurers failed in their attempts, several teams have successfully made the descent – starting with Piotr Chmielinski and companions in 1985-1986.

However, our new research results published in Area demonstrate that the most distant source of the Amazon is not the Apurimac River as previously thought.  Rather, it is the Mantaro River, a neighbouring stream that joins the Apurimac to form the Ene River. These new findings change the uppermost ~800 km of the Amazon source-to-sea journey, including all of the whitewater. This result drastically changes the journey down the Amazon.

While gathering data for the article in Area, I realized that distance measurements based on topographic maps and satellite images were limited because these methods often have low resolution and sometimes do not show current river channels. Simply measuring distances on topographic maps and satellite images would not suffice, because these often have low resolution (and therefore errors) and sometimes do not show current river channels. The best way to obtain an accurate up-to-date measurement is via direct GPS tracking on a descent of the river. It is for this reason that I descended both the Mantaro and Apurimac Rivers from their sources – no easy task with the numerous class V rapids (the most severe whitewater classification) on each river.

Since my initial scientific expedition in 2012, which also included a GPS-measurement of the entire Amazon to the Atlantic, at least two other expeditions have descended the Mantaro River down the Amazon to the sea, prompting attention from the paddling community and public. Had such attention been directed to the Mantaro River decades ago, it might have prevented its desecration with pollution and damming.

About the Author: James Contos is director of the non-profit river conservation organization SierraRios and completed the Area study along with   Nicolas Tripcevich, an archeologist at UC Berkeley who has expertise with GIS software and the ancient cultures of Peru.

books_icon Contos J and N Tripcevich (2014) Correct placement of the most distant source of the Amazon River in the Mantaro River drainage. Area 47: pp-pp. DOI: 10.1111/area.12069

60-world2 Schaffer G (2013) “Fastest to the Atlantic Wins”; Outside Magazine : January 2013: 38-39.

60-world2 Moag J. (2013) “True Source”; Canoe & Kayak. June 2013: 42-50, 86-88.

60-world2 “Flood in Huancavelica, Peru.” Disaster Charter.org. January 21, 2014

Doing flood risk science differently?

By Helen Pallett

uk flooding 2007

The Summer 2007 UK foods. Image credit: Mat Fascione

A group of scientists at the University of Oxford have launched a new citizen science project to help them better understand the 2013-14 winter storms and flooding in the UK. Flooding events over the last decade have received increasing media attention and have been the object of controversies around the official responses. Debates have centred around the contribution of urbanisation to the increased frequency of flooding events, as well as the inadequacy of flood protection and flood response systems. But perhaps the most consistent topic of public debate has been the connection between (human induced) climate change and these extreme weather events.

The Oxford University project Weather@home 2014 asks whether and how much climate change has had an effect on the winter 2013-14 storms and floods and seeks to answer this question through the use of climate models. As the Guardian’s environment editor Damian Carrington explains here, running climate models can be time consuming but the more runs the team has to compare and plot, the clearer any trend will be. So the scientists invite anybody who is interested to sign up and help complete up to 30,000 climate model re-runs of winter 2013-14 with different assumptions about the influence of climate change on weather patterns.

This is an innovative citizen science project in that it expects its citizen scientists to contribute to the work of scientific analysis, rather than simply data collection (though the practice of climate modelling rather blurs this distinction). And it does seem an appropriate project in what has been labelled, ‘the year of the code’ (see for example, here). As with any citizen science project, however it has its limitations, especially in the role carved out for the citizen scientists. Assuming the participants are able to code (and clearly many people cannot), they are free to run as many model runs as they like, set within the scientific and technological framework provided by the Oxford University scientists. The participants, cannot for example, come up with competing models, do runs which seek to answer different questions about the floods, or draw on their own knowledge or experience of the winter floods in their engagement with the project. The scientific framing of this project is a highly contentious one within the climate science community, with many other scientists arguing that the task of attempting to attribute extreme weather events to climate change is impossible and unhelpful. Yet the participants have no say in this.

This shouldn’t surprise us of course, and does not prevent it from being a potentially productive and enriching experience for the both the scientists and citizen scientists involved. But another group of researchers has also been experimenting with involving non-scientists in flood-risk science in a very different way. The flood scientist Stuart Lane along with an interdisciplinary team of natural and social scientists attempted an experiment in flood management involving scientific experts and citizens with experience of flooding, but without giving them pre-defined roles. Natural and social scientists and citizens worked together to generate new knowledge about a flooding event, and to negotiate the different assumptions and commitments of each group, in order to inform public interventions in flood risk management. Thus all members of the group were seen to have relevant and useful knowledge, and efforts were made to develop collective understandings which were not differentiated between academics and non-academics. This research project contributed to scientific understandings of flood hydrology through the creation of new models for example, and also the collection of qualitative understandings and experiences of flooding. But it also helped to overcome an impasse in the management of floods in Pickering, the area under study, where no decision had been made about the appropriate use of resources for flood risk management, by helping to reconfigure relationships between the scientific ‘experts’ and local people.

These contrasting citizen science projects, both focussed on flooding, help to showcase the wide range of ways in which non-scientists can be involved in research projects. However, they also show the importance of aims and framing in determining the outcomes of the project and the ways in which non-scientists participate. The Oxford University project was framed as a conventional scientific study aiming to show how climate change had influenced recent extreme weather events, and co-opting citizen scientists as volunteers to help get the scientific work done more quickly. In the case of the Pickering flooding experiment, the researchers had no clear scientific aim, but rather were deliberately attempting to unsettle power relations between so-called experts and non-experts, and to see if this had an impact of the flood management plans people emerged with. Whilst many will claim that the scientific robustness of the knowledge and flood models generated by the latter project are undermined by the researcher’s determination to involve non-scientists at all stages, the project’s political and practical outcomes (and therefore the impacts on the citizen scientists) were overwhelmingly positive.

S N Lane, N Odoni, C Landstrom, S J Whatmore, N Ward & S Bradley 2011 Doing flood risk science differently: an experiment in radical scientific methodTransactions of the Institute of British Geographers 36(1): 15-36

Citizen scientists test influence of climate change on UK winter deluge: results poor in Guardian – Damian Carrington’s Environment Blog, March 24th

Weather@home 2014: the causes of the UK winter floods, climateprediction.net

Time to rethink the e-waste problem

By Josh Lepawsky

My eye is caught by a recent news headline that proclaims “U.S. Isn’t Flooding the Third World with E-waste“. In the article, journalist Adam Minter – who in January spoke at the RGS-IBG Monday Night Lecture series – reports that the export of e-waste from the US is a trickle, rather than the flood it is often portrayed to be in a variety of NGO reports, news media, and academic publications. Tracing global flows of e-waste is a challenging task, one I take up most recently in The Geographical Journal.

After an analysis of 16 years of trade data for 206 territories and more than 9400 trade transactions, I’ve found that, indeed, it is necessary to rethink common representations of e-waste flows. Instead of a flood of e-waste flowing from so-called ‘developed’ countries to ‘developing’ countries, between 73-82 percent of total flows are traded between countries designated as ‘Annex VII’ signatories (the EU, OECD, and Lichtenstein) to the Basel Convention on the Control of Transboundary Movements of Hazardous Wastes and their Disposal - a key international agreement regulating the trade of hazardous wastes, including e-waste. More importantly, I’ve found that flows from ‘developing’ to ‘developed’ countries – the opposite of the usual e-waste storyline - grew substantially over the 16 years of available data. Indeed, flows of e-waste from non-Annex VII territories (or ‘developing’ countries’) to Annex VII territories (‘developed’ countries) climbed from just of 6.5 million kilograms in 1996 to over 140 million kilograms in 2012.

These findings offer crucial conceptual and policy insights into the issue of e-waste. Conceptually, the intense focus on e-waste dumping means that efforts at amelioration remain fixated on end-of-pipe solutions. As a consequence, insufficient effort is directed by those concerned about e-waste toward changing how the extraction of raw materials for them, their design, manufacturing, or their durability is done. Policies premised on halting the flow of e-waste from the global ‘North’ to the global ‘South’ via industrial recycling mean that a variety of environmental and economic benefits of repairing, reusing, and refurbishing digital equipment are destroyed. Moreover, trade bans like those envisioned under the Basel Convention, are increasingly irrelevant to present and likely future e-waste trade patterns – such trade is occurring almost entirely in directions that are either permissible under extant rules or in patterns not even imagined by those rules to be worthy of regulation. It is time to rethink the e-waste problem.

About the Author: Josh Lepawsky is a Professor in cultural, economic & political geography at the Department of Geography, Memorial University of Newfoundland, Canada.

open-access-icon Lepawsky, J. (2014), The changing geography of global trade in electronic discards: time to rethink the e-waste problem. The Geographical Journal. doi: 10.1111/geoj.12077

60-world2 Minter, A., U.S. Isn’t Flooding the Third World With E-WasteBloomberg View, 26 May 2013.

Movie Icon Minter, A., Our junkyard planet: travels in the secret trash tradeRGS-IBG Monday Night Lecture Series, 20 January 2014. [Members and Fellows of the Society can re-watch this lecture online].

The Future of European Aviation?

by Benjamin Sacks

Proposed European FABs.

Proposed European FABs.

The eruption of Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökul volcano on 20 March 2010 demonstrated the weaknesses in Europe’s diverse air traffic control network. As a massive ash cloud up to 8 kilometres high gradually extended across western Europe, forcing the cancellation of thousands of flights and stranding millions of passengers across the entire continent. Although European air controllers correctly prioritised passenger safety above all other factors, the scenario left many airline industry commentators and journalists frustrated with the European Union’s apparent inability to swiftly and effectively act on changing meteorological and airline information. With few exceptions, the maintenance of separate airspace quadrants by each EU member, each with different processes, response mechanisms, as well as external pressures from airlines and politicians, all contributed to delayed and even contradictory responses in London, Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin, and Oslo.

In Eyjafjallajökull’s wake, the International Aviation Transportation Authority (IATA), in cooperation with the EU, proposed the establishment a single European air zone, divided into nine ‘functional airspace blocks’. Citing the current system’s woefully inefficiency – e.g., ‘With fewer air traffic controllers the United States FAA [Federal Aviation Authority] is able to deliver 70% more controlled flight hours than Europe]’ – the IATA / EU consortium called for a reorganisation, or ‘rationalisation’ of air traffic control hierarchies, technological modernisation, and substantially better (and more transparent) communication between national aviation authorities. Optimistically entitled ‘Single European Sky’ (SES), officials set a date of 4 December 2012 for its implementation.

But, as Dr Christopher Lawless (Durham University) reminds us in his March 2014 Geographical Journal commentary, 4 December 2012 came and went with little change. Only two of the nine blocks – Denmark-Sweden and UK-Ireland – had reached operational status. National-level aviation oversight bodies – intended to be the vanguard of transnational cooperation – had made little progress in communicating or facilitating with their neighbouring counterparts. Bickering, unsurprisingly, had early on replaced collaboration. At the EU Aviation Summit in Limassol, Cyprus, Siim Kallas, European Commission joint Vice President and Transport Commissioner, attacked EU states for ‘their “undue protection of national interests’” (Lawless p. 76).

Of the seven non-operational airspace blocks, two (Iberian Peninsula and Central Mediterranean) had not even progressed beyond the ‘definition stage’ (p. 77). Fearing the loss of their jobs and the complete overhaul of learned ATC procedures, French and German air traffic controllers repeatedly threatened strikes.

Lawless examined SES’s problematic history through Sheila Jasanoff and Sang-Hyun Kim’s 2009 paradigm of ‘sociotechnical imaginary’. The European SES programme sought to mix technological requirements with larger political aspirations, inevitably leading to discord between various member states. Airlines, already struggling to break even financially, balked at restructuring costs (p.80). Spatially, air spaces were eventually designed along largely existing geographical and geopolitical lines, as the UK-Ireland, Denmark-Sweden, and Italy-Mediterranean sectors clearly demonstrate (p. 78). In reality, these geopolitically-influenced air spaces make little sense with the traffic patterns of most passenger flights:

[T]he highest density region of European air traffic…spans a corridor encompassing the airspace of the UK, Belgium, The Netherlands, Luxembourg, France, Germany, Switzerland, Austria and Italy. Under the current arrangement, this straddles four separate FABs…(p. 78).

Lawless concludes by calling for a comprehensive inquiry into sovereign states’ concerns, risk assessments, and considerations, and re-drawing the air space landscape in a more logical (and less state-specific) manner. Ultimately, he stressed that even such ‘apolitical’ projects as SES are unfortunately ridden with politics, negotiation, and self-interests.

The SES debate will continue to fascinate observers for some time. Agonising, protracted discussions over the future of London’s airspace – the world’s busiest – between Conservative officials, led by Boris Johnson, and Labour opponents seem unlikely to end amicably, or soon. This regional crisis, combined with Britain’s current national debate over its long-term role within the EU, will only further complicate the SES’s possible re-development and implementation.    

books_icon

Gertisser R, Eyjafjallajökull volcano causes widepread disruption to European air trafficGeology Today 26.3 (May-Jun.: 2010), 94-95.

books_icon IATA / EU, A Blueprint for the Single European Sky: Delivering on safety, environment, capacity and cost-effectiveness, 2011.

books_icon Lawless C, Commentary: Bounding the vision of a Single European SkyThe Geographical Journal, 180.1 (Mar., 2014): 76-82.

60-world2 Sacks B, Eyjafjallajökull: Geography’s Harsh ReminderGeography Directions, 18 February 2011.

60-world2 Q&A: EU response to Iceland volcano ashBBC News, 25 May 2011.

60-world2 Iceland volcano ash: German air traffic resumingBBC News, 25 May 2011.

60-world2 Hofmann K, French, German ATCs postpone strikes over Single European SkyAir Transport World, 24 January 2014.