In Conversation with Judith Bovensiepen

I’ll start with one of my favorite quotes:

“Anthropology opens windows on other possible forms of human social existence, for it constantly reminds us that much of what we take to be immutable was, at other times and in other places, arranged quite differently; and that human possibilities are therefore, in almost every way, greater than we ordinarily imagine. Anthropology also offers us new perspectives on familiar problems.” ¹ Graeber, David (2007) Possibilities: Essays on Hierarchy, Power and Desire, page 1.

David Graeber captures perfectly what, for me, constitutes the core of anthropological research. He describes exactly what drew me to anthropology in the first place. I believe many share this motivation, and it could play a central role in public anthropology. While we must be careful not to project our own fantasies onto others when searching for alternatives, the ability to imagine alternative futures is a valuable vision for a public-facing anthropology.

For me, the central strength of our discipline remains the method of long-term ethnographic fieldwork. Research that prioritizes empathic proximity, personal encounters, and continuous exchange allows for a deep understanding of social dynamics. In my view, this specific form of "research-based listening" and working in direct contact is a crucial starting point for making anthropological knowledge accessible and relevant beyond the university.

My vision for public anthropology is one that embraces the narrative aspect, direct encounters, and the contradictions at the heart of human sociality. Public anthropology should conduct socially relevant research that empathically seeks to understand the "otherness" of people while simultaneously exposing broader societal contexts, such as political, economic, and gender-based inequalities.

Public anthropology can provide a space for activist research—projects that work alongside activists or marginalized groups to document and critically scrutinize exploitation, exclusion, and injustice. At the same time, I don’t believe all public anthropology must be activist in nature. There also needs to be room for research with people who are not part of marginalized groups or who don't qualify as "likeable others," as Olaf Zenker has phrased it.

Temporary objectification—that is, the temporary translation of complex social realities into terms, categories, or models—is a part of every anthropological analysis. It is a fundamental component of any social theory. At the same time, I have the impression that anthropologists too often lose sight of life's uncertainties, ambivalences, and internal contradictions in an effort to formulate the most cohesive and convincing analyses possible. It is not uncommon to see a tendency to comb through the statements and ideas of interlocutors specifically for the most radical or provocative formulations in order to develop new, and often trendy, theoretical positions.

In my view, one of the greatest pitfalls of social anthropology lies in giving too little attention to ambiguous and often humorous statements. I believe it is important to take doubt and uncertainty seriously and to draw attention to the contradictory realities of everyday life. A central challenge of the discipline is to find a balance between uncovering real-life contradictions and attempting to understand and describe broader contexts.

For me, dealing with uncertainty is therefore primarily a methodological challenge—it is about allowing uncertainties and unknowns to truly reach us. There are many exciting approaches to the topic of uncertainty: from the phenomenological idea that radical uncertainty forms a background against which social reality is constructed, to sociological suggestions that uncertainty is a central driver of human sociality. Personally, I am drawn to the pragmatic approach recently developed by François Berthomé, Julien Bonhomme, and Grégory Delaplace. ² Berthomé, F., Bonhomme, J. and Delaplace, G., 2012. Preface: cultivating uncertainty. HAU: Journal of Ethnographic Theory, 2(2), pp.129-137. They argue that uncertainty should not be seen merely as a background to social reality or as a disruption of the social order; rather, we should investigate how uncertainty arises in interactions and how it allows people to negotiate social relationships. For example, uncertainty plays a central role in "joking relations," in ritual interactions, but also—as these authors show—in rumors or romantic relationships.

In my own research, I show how resource extraction in Timor-Leste can lead to a kind of shift in uncertainty, while simultaneously giving rise to new spheres of certainty. Relationships with spirits and ancestors, which are otherwise characterized by ambivalence and unknowability, must suddenly be presented as unambiguous and stable. This is the only way it becomes possible to confront extractive industries with clarity and to make one’s own practices "legible" to the state. At the same time, however, existential uncertainty regarding livelihoods and future prospects is growing. Many people increasingly find themselves in economically precarious situations and are faced with ever-greater uncertainty regarding their future lives.

Uncertainty can also be a foundation for resistance and resilience. Those who can manage uncertainty and withstand contradictions and ambiguities are often better equipped to weather difficult times. Simultaneously, states and other social or political institutions often attempt to eliminate or instrumentalize uncertainties—that is, to stabilize interpretations, frame the status quo as "common sense," and make situations appear as if there were no alternative. Uncertainty, however, can undermine such dominant representations; it can be a decisive first step toward formulating critique and, ultimately, resistance (a central idea in Luc Boltanski’s On Critique). ³ Boltanski, L., 2011. On critique: A sociology of emancipation. Polity. For this very reason, I believe it is important not only to look for where we find uncertainties "on the ground," but also to incorporate them into our own practice and analysis.

Our strengths include our extensive regional expertise in various parts of Asia, as well as a strong tradition of bridging ethnographic and historical research. Building on this expertise, we have collaboratively developed several thematic priorities that we intend to expand significantly in the future.

These include, for example, the intersections of environment and health, multidisciplinary perspectives on the material world, and the study of society's digital transformation. Research on colonialism, postcolonialism, totalitarianism, and the history of science is also a key part of this. Each year, we plan to dedicate ourselves to a specific concept—in 2026, for instance, we will focus on the concept of "destruction," followed by "waste" in 2027, and "making" in 2028. We aim to explore these concepts ethnographically while testing the theoretical boundaries that comparative ethnographic analysis opens up for us.

My hope is to establish the ISA as a leading international institute—a kind of hub for early-career researchers in Europe, where scholars have the opportunity to develop innovative research projects over extended periods without the heavy pressure of extensive teaching and administrative duties.

The institute is already internationally oriented, and I want to further expand these connections. Collaboration with social anthropology departments in Germany and Switzerland is particularly important, as are contacts throughout Europe and within our research regions in Asia. We already have exciting exchange programs in place with the latter (for example, with Syarif Hidayatullah State Islamic University in Yogyakarta, Indonesia). The goal is to create an innovative and supportive research environment that encourages early-career researchers to bring their projects to us and develop new ideas together.

One of the biggest challenges will be communicating the relevance of social anthropology to researchers from other disciplines—and, in particular, securing the most vital foundation of our work: long-term fieldwork. This is something that funding bodies and policymakers outside our field often do not fully understand. I am convinced that social anthropology must demonstrate its societal relevance; however, at the same time, we cannot allow ourselves to be constrained by the notion that everything we do must serve an immediate social, political, or economic purpose. There must be space for research for research’s sake—simply because knowledge about human diversity in the world possesses intrinsic value.