Tournament: USC | Round: 2 | Opponent: Harvard-Westlake WB | Judge:
The centrality of free speech to is a negation of embodied experience that excludes bodies mapped by schemas that deviate from “proper” performance. Attempting to separate meaning from voice is a fantasy of liberal humanism that renders agency inaccessible by the person with disability
St. Pierre 15 Joshua, Department of Philosophy at the University of Alberta, March 31, “Cripping Communication: Speech, Disability, and Exclusion in Liberal Humanist and Posthumanist Discourse,” Communication Theory, 25, pg. 331-5/AKG
Liberal humanism is a broad-based political and intellectual emergence within the Enlightenment, which gained full ascendency in the 19th and 20th centuries, valuing “open and undogmatic inquiry, freedom of the individual conscience” and aiming for a “respect for social justice, social and psychological utility, decency, and liberality” (Coates and White, 1970, p. 447). At its center, liberal humanism is a marriage between the long humanist tradition and liberal ideals: a dual commitment to “man” and “freedom.” However, in its effort to secure “man” as a completely autonomous being, liberal humanism must first transcend group differences and generalize attributes of humanity in a movement of essentialization. What defines a human in this tradition is accordingly not accidental attributes— for example race, gender, age—but the possession of rationality. The liberal subject, as Katherine Hayles has observed, identifies the self with the rational mind merely in possession of a body (1999, p. 4). This move is unquestionably overdetermined, yet can in large measure be traced back through Cartesian rationalism to the Discourse on the Method. Asserting the cogito, Descartes writes: from this I knew I was a substance whose whole essence or nature is solely to think, and which does not require any place, or depend on any material thing, in order to exist. Accordingly, this ‘I’— that is, the soul by which I am what I am—is entirely distinct from the body, and indeed is easier to know than the body, and would not fail to be whatever it is, even if the body did not exist (2009, p. 36, emphasis added). Distinct from the body and free from context, the existence of the rational “I” stands above the historical moment. While Descartes himself is not the brash dualist so often presumed, the methodological distinction between res extensa and res cogitans nevertheless sets the stage for the humanist erasure of embodiment that carries through into posthumanism. Compared to the axiomatically derived self-evidence of the rational self, the body is deemed epistemically untrustworthy, accidental, and historical. Transcribed through liberal humanism, this binary conceives the subject as an inner and universal rationality possessing an external and particular body. The liberal subject emerges as autonomous and unitary, yet as interior, in need of externalizing his/her social and political nature. It is here that speech takes on a significant, yet surprisingly underrepresented, role within liberal humanist discourse. In 1923, H. Wildon Carr, a former president of the Aristotelian Society, argued that the very idea of reason requires discourse because reason is an activity directed outwards. “The origin of speech,” said Carr, “is in the nature of human mentality. Reason in its human form would not and could not exist without speech” (1923–1924, p. 97). A similar position is taken up more recently by Frank E. X. Dance and Carl E. Larson who have contended that speech communication is a pedagogical initiation into humanity. “Speech communication,” they write, “functions so importantly in the life of a human being that the understanding and study of speech communication are at the very core of a liberal education” (1972, p. 6). Toeing the party line, Dance and Larson have maintained that speech communication has three functions: (a) linking the individual with his environment, (b) developing higher mental processes, and (c) regulating behavior (1972, p. 64). Speech is an enactment of reason and therefore of human identity, since “evolutionarily speaking, the hand is shaped by the labor in which it engages, man’s interiority simultaneously shapes and is shaped by speech communication” (1972, p. 71). For Carr, Dance, and Larson, then, speech is an extension of rationality, belonging not to the body, but to the articulation and formation of reason. The liberal humanist assessment of speech exemplified by Carr, Dance, and Larson relies on an ambiguity and slippage between the rational interior and embodied exterior. Speech is given in liberal humanism as a mode of rationality, yet the body is also needed for the enactment of speech. This duality raises troubling questions regarding the boundaries of reason and the self. Does speech modulate from a form of rationality to a conditional act as it passes through the lips? Where does the universal reason stop and contingent embodiment begin? While speech, mediating the threshold between the public and private and the universal and accidental, can be understood as the sine qua non of the liberal humanist subject, it simultaneously occupies an ambiguous position. This ambiguity translates as a fundamental instability in the rational self’s identity and boundary that can be detailed through the voice, chiastically hinging language and the body. The voice is dually constituted by the phonological and the phonetic: the meaning laden, immaterial aspect of the phoneme and its material, auditory support. While the existence of the phonological depends upon the phonetic (however short-lived its existence), the logic of phonocentrism permeating liberal humanism systematically obscures the phonetic as the trace of embodiment. “Requiring the intervention of no determinate surface in the world, being produced in the world as pure auto-affection, the voice,” explains Derrida, “is a signifying substance completely at our disposition. For the voice meets no obstacle to its emission in the world precisely because it is produced as pure auto-affection” (1973, p. 79). This dominant tradition understands the phonetic, embodied aspect of the voice to be utterly passive and invisible, and thus “the voice” comes from within, circumventing the body, and directly expresses interiority. Yet, tying the signifier to the body, the voice is not so easily divorced from its embodied source. Somewhat overstated by the dysfluent speaker, the phonetic aspect of the voice often does not self-effacingly recede once the phonological function has been dutifully carried out, but rather lingers and stretches, drawing attention to itself and threatening to subvert its linguistic purpose. The voice of one who has cerebral palsy, for example, is decidedly not at his/her complete disposition precisely because the body obtrudes its continuous emission into the world. The conception of the voice as pure auto-affection can be maintained only by abstracting speech from lived experience. I accordingly argue that the rational human materializes himself through the voice precariously; the slippage is manifested both phonetically and affectively. Mladen Dolar (2006) contends that even though the phonetic voice does not contribute to meaning and is therefore inconspicuous when the semantic operation of speech is “properly” carried out, there is always something leftover, whether accent, individuality, or other tonal qualia. The role assigned to the remainder of the voice by Dolar is somewhat peculiar. On the one hand, the remainder is an obstruction overcome when one becomes adjusted to a different accent, for example, and can focus simply upon the intended meaning. The voice in this regard is simply an impediment to the communicative operation of language. Yet on the other hand, Dolar notes that a voice devoid of any remainder would conflate with mechanical iterability and thus lose its human characteristic: Paradoxically, it is the mechanical voice which confronts us with the object voice, its disturbing and uncanny nature, whereas the human touch helps us keep it at bay. The obstacle it appears to present actually enhances the sense-making effect; the seeming distraction contributes to the better fulfillment of the goal (2006, p. 22). The phonetic side effect of the voice enables its recognizability and identification as a human voice. Implicit here is the narrow phonetic line sheltering the human voice in between the mechanical and noise—between merely iterating signifiers and chaotic distraction. At far ends of the spectrum, voices of intellectually disabled people are often read as subhuman at best, while voices with no inflection can be read as eerily mechanical or computerized. Depicting the former phenomenon, a vitriolic letter was recently sent to the caretaker of an autistic boy, in which the anonymous author complained, “You selfishly put your kid outside every day and let him be nothing but a nuisance and a problem to everyone else with that noise polluting whaling sic he constantly makes! That noise he makes when he is outside is DREADFUL sic . . . It scares the hell out of my normal children! . . . Do the right thing and move or euthanize him!” (“Hateful Letter,” 2013). This instance is repugnant and likely not representative in degree. However, inasmuch as speech and reason are tightly correlated through the linguistic function of the voice, performing the voice in any way that strays beyond codified vocalic boundaries and unsettles the effortless production of meaning calls into question the rationality of the performer “behind” the voice. More moderately disabled voices, like the stuttering voice, are in this regard not outright rejected as a signifying voice like the voices of the (presumed) intellectually disabled. However, recognition can nevertheless be denied in degree. The failure to signify in a quotidian manner results in a desperate struggle for the disabled voice to maintain a uniform performance of reason if the speaker wishes to be afforded the privileges of full participation given to those deemed rational. Speaking as a rational human is a delicate performance that can easily go sideways. The knife-edge of human vocality is honed even finer by taking into account normalized vocal affectivity. Joshua Gunn (2010) has argued that the affective power of the voice is culturally policed because it is fundamentally public; the phonetic aspect of the voice generates “public feelings” that communicate on their own accord. Rhetorical training aims to tame this affective power to match, support, and enliven the semiotic character of the voice. However, citing the public anxiety around “uncontrolled speech” that transgresses vocal norms, Gunn points out how easily the affective force can go awry, so much that he claims “within speech is always a tacit threat of the loss of control” (2010, p. 189). Gunn references the grunting of female tennis players and the unintentional yelps of politicians; yet, it would be helpful here to widen his observation of uncontrolled speech to include such voices as those belonging to the transgendered and the disabled. These voices accentuate the volatile affective power of the voice and the tenuous hold we possess over our bodies. As I have argued elsewhere, “In failing to live up to the ideals set by liberal individualism and capitalism, dysfluent voices act as a reminder of the fragile mastery we have of our bodies and of the social downturn that quickly follows the failure to uphold and project this ideal of mastery.” (2012, p. 16). The anxiety-riddled demand for control in public speech arises precisely because the affective power of speech exists in a metastable relation to the body. Rational speech, dispassioned, and disembodied, may at any moment be ruptured and must thus be constantly surveilled and managed. Articulating and simultaneously threatening to occlude rational human identity, the voice thus bears the full weight of the humanist anxiety concerning borders and membership. The “proper” performance of speech is accordingly strongly patrolled within liberal humanist discourse.

Our alternative is to reject the affirmative’s focus on free speech as a requirement of agency. Their starting point guarantees cooption because the aesthetics of speech are always set with respect to the ideal human subject. Only the alternative opens up space for alternative modes of communication
St. Pierre 15 Joshua, Department of Philosophy at the University of Alberta, March 31, “Cripping Communication: Speech, Disability, and Exclusion in Liberal Humanist and Posthumanist Discourse,” Communication Theory, 25, pg. 337-40/AKG
There is no single bridge spanning humanism to posthumanism. There are certainly stories to tell about the antihumanism of the 1960s and 1970s, of feminism, cybernetics, Hans Moravec, late capitalism, and of the cascading death of God, man, and the author. Yet, as Donna Haraway duly reminds us, the cyborg is a bastard. Any attempt to pin down its origins is always already a fabrication, a sanitation, an attempt to tell a crooked story straight. Neil Badmington further muddies the water, adapting for posthumanism the Lyotardian-Derridean line that a system always contains the conditions for its critique. Rather than construing humanism and posthumanism as distinct entities in a linear, temporal relation, Badmington argues—akin to Lyotard’s reading of modernism and postmodernism— that “the writing of the posthumanist condition should . . . take the form of a critical practice that occurs inside humanism, consisting not of the wake but the working-through of humanist discourse” (2003, p. 22). Posthumanism has always ghosted humanism, and posthumanism is never a clean break (if it can be called a break at all) from humanism. Just as there is no single nor a complete shift from humanism to posthumanism, so are there many posthumanisms. My affinity toward posthumanism as a generative source for rethinking disabled speech does not extend to them all, insofar as some remain bedded with humanism more than others. For example, early cybernetics remained fixated on defining and maintaining borders of an autonomous and autopoietic subject. In a related vein, transhumanists hoist the banner of human progress with pride. Often conflated with posthumanism, transhumanism has wormed its way into the cultural imaginary with grand ameliorative visions of biotechnology improving the human condition through augmentation and newgenics. Transhumanism, as Cary Wolfe defines it, is simply an “intensification of humanism” (2009, p. xv), a technological extension of the dream of perfectibility that sees bodily limitations as a hurdle to transcend. Disabled speech (and disability more broadly) is accordingly an irksome problem for transhumanists to fix, in time, through technology. The posthumanism I intend to redeploy takes its cue from Nayar, who defines what he terms critical posthumanism as “the radical decentering of the traditional sovereign, coherent and autonomous human in order to demonstrate how the human is always already evolving with, constituted by and constitutive of multiple forms of life and machines” (2014, p. 2). The posthuman under this reading cannot be understood in terms of a single locus or a unitary ontology of presence. Rather, he/she is dynamically coconstituted within ecological, technological, and informational networks—a congealing of “heterogeneous components, a material-informational entity whose boundaries undergo continuous construction and reconstruction” (Hayles, 1999, p. 3). Subjectivity is an emergent feature of sympoietic systems (Haraway, 2014), necessarily constrained by and dispersed within the exchanges between systems and environments. “The Human” thus cedes its transcendental status long enjoyed within the Anthropocene. Yet, at the same time, in relinquishing this status, the (post)human no longer needs to frantically police the borders within which it (ostensibly) ruled autonomously. Rather, critical posthumanism recognizes that the borders of the human have always been porous. Owning up to our sympoietic constitution produces a vantage from which the ableist construction and policing of human borders, bodies, and communicative practices can be politicized and critiqued. With the cyborg bastard fully in mind, I suggest that the disabled body is useful in parsing a necessarily crooked and partial transition to posthuman communication. Interrogating the familial tradition of rhetoric from the perspective of disability, Jay Dolmage is here instructive: The body of history has been shaped to look like an idealized human body: proportional, inviolable, autonomous, upright, forward facing (white and masculine). But if you find the rhetorical body, you find tension, trial, and trouble. . . . Writing from bodies we would do history differently, not just be recognizing ‘other’ bodies, but also because our histories and rhetorics might more closely represent the difference and diversity of our bodies themselves (2014, p. 16). Reading posthumanism and posthuman communication through disability is accordingly a means of not only recognizing bodies that are often excluded in communication theory (relegated, e.g., to the insulated domain of speech-pathology) but also cripping communication itself. Like the stuttering body, there is perhaps much to gain from resisting the straight and most direct communicative and discursive path. Consider in this regard that for disability theorist Alison Kafer, the cyborg is appealing not in spite of but because of its “multiple, and often contradictory, deployments” (2013, p. 116). To look for and expect disability in posthumanism and communication theory is to invoke a heuristic of instability and indeterminacy that generates multiple meanings and relations.

Our role of the ballot is to consider the aesthetic impression of the affirmative before its potential successes. Aesthetics permeate our discussions of politics – the current political arena serves the conceal people with disabilities or mark them as deviant and not worth inclusion. This classroom setting where we discuss different corporealities now constitutes our distaste of the ontological position of disability. The search of a complete body politic from which to cite resistance has alienated all deviant corporealities and is the cause of exclusion.
Siebers 10 (Tobin, professor of English, University of Michigan, Disability Aesthetics, pgs 58-63)
These two episodes may seem worlds apart, their resemblance superficial. The first turns on questions of aesthetic taste. The second is about political inclusion. But they express with equal power the current struggles in the United States about the ideal of a common culture. Do certain kinds of bodies have greater civil rights than others? Which is more important, the baby's body or the mother's body? Who should bear the cost to make public buildings accessible to people with disabilities? Who gets to have sex with whom? Whose bloodlines will Americans claim as their birthright? These are political questions for the simple reason that they determine who gains membership, and who does not, in the body politic, but the apparent oddity of the culture wars consists in the fact that the debates over these questions have used aesthetic rather than political arguments. The flash points in the battle are not on the senate floor or in the chambers of the powerful but in classrooms, museums, theaters, concert halls, and other places of culture. Opposing sides tend not to debate political problems directly, focusing instead on the value of reading certain books, the decency of photographs, paintings, and statues, the offensiveness of performances and gestures, the bounds of pornography, the limits of good taste. The culture wars are supposed to be more about who gets into the culture than who has culture, and yet it is difficult to raise one issue without raising the other. Aesthetics tracks the emotions that some bodies feel in the presence of other bodies, but aesthetic feelings of pleasure and disgust are difficult to separate from political feelings of acceptance and rejection. The oppression of women, gays and lesbians, people with disabilities, blacks, and other ethnic groups often takes the form of an aesthetic judgment, though a warped one, about their bodies and the emotions elicited by them. Their actions are called sick, their appearance judged obscene or disgusting, their mind depraved, their influence likened to a cancer attacking the healthy body of society. Such metaphors not only bring the idea of the disabled body to mind but represent the rejected political body as disabled in some way. The culture wars appear to be as much about the mental competence to render judgment, the capacity to taste, and the physical ability to experience sensations as about a variety of controversial judgments, tastes, and feelings. They are as much about the shapes of the individual bodies accepted or rejected by the body politic as about the imagination of a common culture. The status of disability, then, is not just one controversy among others in the American culture wars. Disability is in one way or another the key concept by which the major controversies at the heart of the culture wars are presented to the public sphere, and through which the voting public will eventually render its decisions on matters both political and aesthetic. For to listen to opposing sides, the culture wars are about nothing more or less than the collective health of the United States. The culture wars not only represent minority groups as mentally and physically disabled-and demand their exclusion from the public sphere as a result-they reject works of art that present alternatives to the able body. Only by understanding that health is the underlying theme of the culture wars may we understand that thes,e two trends are related. The most scandalous artists in recent controversies about arts funding, for example, give their works an organic dimension that alludes to bodies gone awry, and these allusions are largely responsible for their shock value. They summon an aesthetic revulsion equivalent to the disgust felt by many persons in face-to-face encounters with people with disabilities, thereby challenging the ideal of a hygienic and homogeneous community.' Karen Finley's avant-garde performances confront the audience with a spectacle of errant body fluids: spermatozoaic alfalfa sprouts and excremental chocolate ooze over her body. In one performance, Lamb of God Hotel, she plays Aggie, a woman using a wheelchair having her diaper changed. Andres Serrano's notorious Piss Christ immerses a day-glow crucifix in a vat of the artist's urine, capturing the startling contradiction of Christianity's all-too-human son of God defiled by a mortal body and its waste fluids. Other photographs by Serrano present abstract expressionist patterns composed of blood and semen, stilllifes arranged with human and animal cadavers, and mug shots of the homeless, criminal, and aged. Robert Mapplethorpe's most memorable photographs capture the homoerotic body and serve it up to a largely heterosexual population. Perhaps his most outrageous work is a self-portrait revealing a bullwhip stuck up his rectum. It summons ideas of the devil as well as S/M practices, of course, but it also presents the image a man who has grown a tail, invoking a body whose deformed shape is less or more than human. These stunning works make a contribution to the history of art by assaulting aesthetic dictates that ally beauty to harmonious form, balance, hygiene, fluidity of expression, and genius. But their shock value owes less to their quibbling with certain aesthetic principles than to the bodies and organic materials presented by them. They represent flash points in the culture wars not only because they challenge how aesthetic culture should be defined but also because they attack the body images used to determine who has the right to live in society. People with disabilities elicit feelings of discomfort, confusion, and resentment because their bodies refuse cure, defy normalization, and threaten to contaminate the rest of society. We display bodies objectionable to the body politic, disrupting the longstanding association between instances of aesthetic form and what Fredric Jameson calls the political unconscious. The political unconscious, I want to argue, enforces a mutual identification between forms of appearance, whether organic, aesthetic, or architectural, and ideal images of the body politic. It accounts for the visceral and defensive response to any body found to disturb society's established image of itself. Jameson, of course, defines the political unconscious as a collective impulse that situates the experience of the human group as the absolute horizon of all interpretation. In fact, the existence of the group is for him so much a part of human experience that he considers the consciousness of individuality itself as a symptom of estrangement from collective life. Notice, however, that the political unconscious has no content other than its ability to reference human community as a formal totality. It exists to ponder social totality, but what it refuses to ponder a vision of community as less than perfect. To conceive social totality at the level of form envisions both objects of human production and bodies as symbols of wholeness. The political unconscious establishes the principle of totality as the methodological standard of all human interpretation. It installs the image of an unbroken community as the horizon of thought, requiring that ideas of incompetent, diseased, defective, or incomplete community be viewed as signs of alienation. This means that the very idea of disability signals the triumph of fallen or defective consciousness, despite the fact that there are no real, existing communities of human beings unaffected by the presence of injury, disease, defect, and incompleteness. In short, the political unconscious is a social imaginary designed to eradicate disability. The political unconscious upholds a delicious ideal of social perfection by insisting that any public body be flawless. It also displaces manifestations of disability from collective consciousness, we will see, through concealment, cosmetic action, motivated forgetting, and rituals of sympathy and pity. Advertisements, media images, buildings, and habitats work to assert the coherence and integrity of society, while public actions like telethons and media representations of heroic cripples mollify the influence of disability. Bodies that cannot be subsumed by ritual and other public action represent a blemish on the face of society, and they must be eliminated, apparently whatever the cost. Diane DeVries provides a familiar account, unfortunately, of the political unconscious at work, of the visceral disgust and accompanying violence often directed at people with disabilities. She reveals that observers of the disabled body often feel compelled to fly into action, to cure or kill the ungainly sight before their eyes. De Vries was born with short arms, no hands, and no legs: once when I was a kid, I was in a wagon and we were in this trailer park, and some kid came up to me with a knife. He said, "Aw, you ain't got no arms, you ain't got no legs, and now you're not gonna have no head." He held me right there, by the neck, and had a little knife. It was one of those bratty kids that do weird things. (Cited by Fine and Asch 48) 

Thus I advocate resistance to restrictions on free speech via a politicization of the body.

Only reintroducing the body into surveillance studies can formulate effective strategies for resistance to this new technological mode – the affirmative’s rhizomatic characterization of bodily surveillance is key to accurate diagnoses of modern power.
Ball 5 Kirstie Ball (Professor of Organization @ The Open University Business School, PhD in Organization Studies from Aston University), “Organization, Surveillance and the Body: Towards a Politics of Resistance”, Organization, January 2005 vol. 12 no. 1 89-108, http://org.sagepub.com/content/12/1/89.short
Recent theorizing about surveillance practices has turned to the centrality of the body, not least in those at the workplace. Although many acknowledge Foucault’s nod towards the rehabilitated body of the incarcerated subject in the panopticon and the political technologies of the body identified in The History of Sexuality (Foucault, 1976), the theoretical inclination is towards Latourian and Deleuzian ideas. These approaches highlight the disparate arrays of people, technologies and organizations that become connected to make ‘surveillance assemblages’, in contrast to the static, unidirectional panopticon metaphor. Indeed, Gandy (1998) asserts that it would be a mistake to assume that surveillance in practice is as complete and totalizing as the panoptic ideal type would have us believe. Similarly, Rule (1998: 68) observes that the panopticon alone offers ‘little help’ in understanding new forms of electronic surveillance, particularly if the question is whether people are subject to more or more severe forms of control. Moreover, Boyne (2000) observes that disciplinary power, with its perfection through technology, and the resultant docile, accepting, self-disciplining population are the exception rather than the norm. It is, rather, how individuals, organizations, state bodies and the media connect to these technologies that influences whose data are collected, where they go and what happens as a result. Ball (2002) begins to address this point. In a paper entitled ‘Elements of Surveillance’, she describes four elements in a surveillance domain. ‘Representation’ refers to the technological element, acknowledging how surveillance technologies can re-present data that are collected at source or gathered from another technological medium. ‘Meaning’ refers to the potential of new surveillance technologies to enable different interpretations of life to be made, as well as interpretations of surveillance itself. At least three common meanings are attributed to surveillance practice: surveillance as knowledge; surveillance as information; and surveillance as protection from threat. ‘Manipulation’ refers to the inevitability of power relations under surveillance, not least because surveillance practices capture and create different versions of life as lived by surveilled subjects. Power relations are evident in the way in which watching institutions or groups are able to regulate the flow of information and knowledge about the surveilled domain between various parties; resistance strategies concern breaking or disrupting those flows and creating spatio-temporal gaps between watcher and watched. Finally, Ball refers to actors within a surveilled domain as ‘intermediaries’— where meaning is inscribed, where technologies re-present information, where power/resistance operates, and where networks are bound together. Each party, at each level of analysis, assumes a role in a surveillance network and becomes inscribed as such through embodied compliance, the exchange of money, the inscription of text and the use of artefacts (Michael, 1996). Ball argues that intermediation is an important socio-technical process in the perpetuation of surveillance practices. Using Deleuze and Guatarri’s (1987) concept of the assemblage, Haggerty and Ericson (2000) also describe the convergence and spread of data-gathering systems between different social domains and at multiple levels. Their argument centres on the notion that the target of the generic ‘surveillance assemblage’ is the human body, which is broken into a series of data flows to the end of feeding the information categories on which the surveillance process is based (Hier, 2003). Thus, it is not the identity or subjectivity of individuals that is of interest, but rather the data individuals can yield and the categories to which they can contribute; these are then reapplied to the body as part of the ‘influencing and managing’ process to which Lyon refers. Accordingly Haggerty and Ericson argue that surveillance has a rhizomatic character: it has many and diverse instances connected to an underlying, invisible infrastructure, which concerns interconnected technologies in multiple contexts. Haggerty and Ericson (2000) pose a new challenge, which concerns how resistance is to be conceptualized. Unlike organizational conceptions of resistance, which are built around some arboreal, centralizing dominant force, Haggerty and Ericson suggest that more widespread and decentred notions are to be employed. It is no longer sufficient to resist surveillance practices by restricting or controlling one technology; one must also consider the impulse to integrate, simulate and apply disparate information categories across a range of contexts that intersect at those ‘surfaces of contact or interfaces between organic and non-organic borders, between life forms and webs of information, or between organs/ body parts and entry/projection systems’ (Bogard, 1996: 33). They characterize the human body as ‘flesh made information’, drawing on arguments that emphasize hybridity and cyborgism (Haraway, 1991), positioning it as a marginality, a state of ‘in-between-ness’ of technologies and the local (Leigh-Starr, 1991). This is a point to which I shall return. Although Haggerty and Ericson argue that rhizomatic surveillance opens more opportunities for scrutiny of surveillance practices, they privilege the breaking of the body into flows to feed the assemblage over the reconstitution of the body with such flows (Hier, 2003), and thus the question of resistance is not sufficiently addressed in their analysis. The main advantage of Haggerty and Ericson’s work is that they shatter the notion underlying many of the claims made by proponents of biodata that the body is a source of truth. This enables a critique of these practices as somehow ‘definitive’, ‘absolute’ or ‘final’ to be established. However, Haggerty and Ericson do not venture far enough: the degree of tension and inbetween-ness characterizing the hybrid or cyborgian subject (Haraway, 1991) is underemphasized. In a manner similar to Ball (2002), the identification of the body is more akin to Callon’s (1991) ‘intermediary’—a hybrid entity that ‘points back’ to the network of which it is part and defines roles for other actors within it (Michael, 1996). A politicization of the constitutive instability of the body is needed to augment a practical and analytical understanding of how resistance to surveillance practices might be conceptualized. In order to address this argument, a brief review of developments concerning a sociology of the body will be reviewed, and its contribution to an understanding of resistance to surveillance will be considered.

Specifically, building a politics of difference centered on embodied experiences of disability is key to overcome the abstracting limitations of the social model and destabilize ableist discourse.
Loja et al 13 Ema Loja (Researcher Fellow @ University of Leeds Center for Disability Studies, PhD in Psychology from University of Porto), Maria Emília Costa (Professor of Psychology @ University of Porto), Bill Hughes (Professor of Sociology @ Glasgow Caledonian University) and Isabel Menezes (Associate Professor in Education @ University of Porto), “Disability, embodiment and ableism: stories of resistance”, Disability and Society, Volume 28, Issue 2, 2013, http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/09687599.2012.705057
‘What counts as a legitimate body' (Shilling 1993, 145) is a question that has been at the core of disability discourse. Disabled people have struggled with a corporeal identity that is predominately defined by a medical model that reduces it to abnormality (Zitzelsberger 2005), stressing the need for correction or normalization (Edwards and Imrie 2003). The medical gaze plays a crucial role in invalidating bodies that do not conform to the norm. Impaired bodies are regarded as abnormal, deviant, inferior and even sub-human (Campbell 2008). Furthermore, the prominence of bio-medical ideas in the public discourse on disability ‘monopolizes not only physical capital but also political, symbolic and social capital, loosely corresponding to and operationalised on different social fields' (Gottfried 1998, 459). Subjects are produced and placed ‘within a hierarchy of bodily traits that determines the distribution of privilege, status, and power' (Garland Thomson 1997, 6). As Braidotti (1996, 136, cited in Meekosha 1998) states, some bodies ‘matter more than others: some are, quite frankly, disposable'. Disabled bodies epitomize the latter. The social model of disability makes a clear distinction between impairment and disability. It rejects medical categories focusing on the elimination of prejudice and discrimination and defends self-determination, social integration and the civil rights of disabled people. The body is the site of physical disability (Stoer, Magalhães, and Rodrigues 2005), but a number of academics have argued that the social model of disability has excluded it from disability discourse (Morris 1991; Hughes 2000; Patterson and Hughes 2000). In fact, the social model considers ‘the impaired body untouched, unchallenged: a taken-for-granted fixed corporeality' (Meekosha 1998, 175) and ‘… within disability studies the term “body” tends to be used without much sense of bodiliness as if the body were little more than flesh and bones' (Paterson and Hughes 1999, 600). However, debate about the body and impairment is re-emerging within the disability movement (for example, Shakespeare 1992; French 1993). The movement has been recovering this lost corporeal space, and as Hughes and Paterson (2006, 101) emphasize: ‘disability is experienced in, on and through the body, just as impairment is experienced in terms of the personal and cultural narratives that help to constitute its meaning'. To bring ‘bodies back in' (Zola 1991, 1) or to recognize how corporeal practices ‘produce and give a body its place in everyday life' (Turner 2001, 259) are questions fundamental to the disability project. In order to validate the impaired body within disability studies, Campbell (2001, 44) has defined ableism as: ‘a network of beliefs, processes and practices that produces a particular kind of self and body (the corporeal standard) that is projected as the perfecct, species-typical and therefore essential and fully human'. Ableism imposes a corporeal standard, the falling away from which represents the pathway to disability (Campbell 2009), which for disabled people produces two consequences: the distancing of disabled people from each other and the emulation by disabled people of ableist norms (Campbell 2008). The body politics of Critical Disability Studies that ableism envisages offers valuable ways to theorize disability and challenge disability oppression (for example, Corker 1999; Hughes 1999). Furthermore, the politics of difference can be an important lens for destabilizing ableism because it legitimates not sameness but human variation (Jones 2006). As Taylor (1994, 51) says, the politics of difference is about recognizing ‘the equal value of different ways of being', and moving to a tradition concerned with rights to secure positive recognition, albeit symbolically, for minority identities (Galeotti 2002). The social struggle of disabled people understood as a struggle for ‘recognition' (Honneth 1995a, 1995b) embodies the deconstruction of ableism and the celebration of difference.

Tournament: Blake | Round: 2 | Opponent: Lexington RW | Judge: Dean Doneen
Under the facade of promoting free speech, colleges have repressed it through regulation of appropriate "space and time” – this hidden form of censorship forces protest into spaces where it is ineffective.
Mitchell 03 -  Don Mitchell, Distinguished Professor of Geography at Syracuse’s Maxwell School: 2003 (“The Liberalization of Free Speech: Or, How Protest in Public Space is Silenced” Stanford Agora Vol. 4 p.4-8 Available at agora.stanford.edu/agora/volume4/articles/mitchell/mitchell.pdf Accessed on 12/11/16)IG
But, of course, the Supreme Court had considered New York’s law before – in the 1920s in the famous Gitlow case.8 Then, the Court upheld the conviction of the radical Benjamin Gitlow after Gitlow had published a tract called The Left-Wing Manifesto, during the height of the Palmer Raids in 1919. Oliver Wendell Holmes (joined by Louis Brandeis) wrote a famous dissent in the Gitlow case, arguing that Gitlow’s pamphlet in no way presented a “clear and present danger” to the state and, therefore, Gitlow’s conviction under New York’s criminal anarchy law should be overtuned.9 The majority in this case, however, upheld Gitlow’s conviction and in the process affirmed both the constitutionality of the New York law, and the State’s right to police some forms of speech. Assuming, first, that the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment covered the liberties outlined in the First Amendment, the Court, second, argued that “the freedom of speech and of the press which is secured by the Constitution, does not confer an absolute right to speak or publish, without responsibility, whatever one may choose….”10 Further, the Court held, “That a State in the exercise of its police power may punish those who abuse this freedom by utterances inimical to the public welfare, tending to corrupt public morals, incite crime, or disturb the peace, is not open to question.”11 Finally, “a State may punish utterances endangering the foundations of organized government and threatening its overthrow by unlawful means.”12
On much of this Holmes did not disagree. His dissent in Gitlow was based in earlier decisions and dissents he had written for the Court in the wake of World War 1.13 These earlier cases,14 established the standards for the right that many now consider the foundation of contemporary American liberty: the right to free speech. Or more accurately, at the end of World War I, the Supreme Court, with Justice Holmes taking the lead, began to develop the language that allowed for the regulation of speech such that it could be protected as an ingredient necessary to the development and the strength of the state. It began to find a way to limit speech, rather than to outlaw it altogether. If the majority in Gitlow had not yet come around to this view, later Courts did, finding in Holmes’s decisions the language necessary to begin the project of liberalizing free speech in the U.S.15 This liberalization was predicated on a seeing at the heart of speech a separation – in space and time – between what is said and the effects of utterances. This is the very basis of Holmes’s “clear and present danger” test.16
Each of the defendants in these cases was convicted for making speeches (or publishing pamphlets) that were deemed to have the possibility of being effective and therefore to portend violence or to undermine the legitimate interests of the state. Each conviction was upheld by the Supreme Court. The irony of free speech jurisprudence in the US, therefore, is that its liberalization is grounded in its repression. This conclusion is doubly obvious, and doubly interesting, when the content of the four convictions is remembered. The prominent socialist Eugene Debs was convicted for merely praising draft resisters for their moral courage.17 Charles Schenck, an official of the Socialist Party in Philadelphia, was convicted for calling the draft a form of involuntary servitude outlawed by the Thirteenth Amendment, and recommending that men petition the government to object to the draft law.18 Frohwerk, the editor of a small circulation German-language newspaper, was convicted for writing that the US had no chance of defeating Germany in the war and thus draftees who refused to enlist could not be faulted.19 And Abrams, along with four fellow Russian radicals, was convicted for throwing leaflets out of a New York window protesting US intervention in Russia following its revolution.20
Holmes first laid out his language concerning “clear and present danger” in the Schenck case.21 “The question in every case,” Holmes intoned, “is whether the words used are used in such circumstances and are of such a nature as to create a clear and present danger that they will bring about substantive evils that Congress has a right to prevent. It is a question of proximity and degree.”22 He also said a few other things that bear repeating, especially now: “When a nation is at war, many things that might be said in a time of peace are such a hindrance to its effort that their utterance will not be endured so long as men fight and no Court could regard them as protected by any Constitutional right.”23 However, Holmes clarified:
We admit that in many places and in ordinary times, the defendants … would have been within their constitutional rights. But the character of the act depends upon the circumstances in which it is done…. The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man falsely shouting fire in a theater and causing a panic. It does not even protect a man from an injunction against uttering words that may have all the effect of force.24
So, even when not at war, the government may strongly circumscribe speech.
There are two issues that are crucial here to the construction of a fully liberal theory of free speech. The first is that what makes a difference in the nature of speech is where that speech occurs. There would be nothing wrong, presumably, with falsely shouting fire, even in a time of war, in the middle of the wilderness, or even on a busy street, if there is adequate room to move. The trick for speech regulation, therefore, becomes – and became for the Court – one of spatial regulation. Regulation of location, or place, becomes the surrogate for the regulation of content.25 The second crucial point Holmes makes is to distinguish between the content of speech and the possibility that such speech might have an effect.26 My purpose in the remainder of this essay is to examine the intersection of these two issues to show how contemporary speech laws and policing effectively silence dissident speech in the name of its promotion and regulation. As the Court has moved away from a regime that penalizes what is said – in essence liberalizing free speech – it has simultaneously created a means to severely regulate where things may be said, and it has done so, in my estimation, in a way that more effectively silences speech than did the older regime of censorship and repression.
It could be argued – to put all this another way – that the death of William Epton received the attention it did precisely because the way his speech was policed seems so anachronistic now. It certainly seems a heavy-handed means of silencing opposition. It seems illiberal. A more liberal approach to silencing opposition – to keeping it from being heard – is to let geography, more than censorship, do the silencing. And this is the direction American law is tending. In what follows I will make my argument clear first through a historical geography of First Amendment law and the evolution of the public forum doctrine, and then by looking at three case studies that show how regulating the where of speech effectively silences protest. The implication of my argument is that under the speech regime currently being constructed in the United States, dissident speech can only be effective when it is illegal. And, as I will briefly suggest in the Epilogue, that implication may be profoundly important should (as seems quite likely) the Federal Government overlay this liberal regime with a return to more illiberal and repressive means of handling dissidents in the name of “homeland security.” Perhaps ironically, the further implication is that a boisterous, contentious, “politics of the street” is more necessary now than ever if any effective right to free speech is to be retained.

Zoning is reminiscent of the McCarthy Era and the faults of COINTELPRO – repression cloaked in the law – and gives authorities the power to construe civil disobedience as domestic terrorism, especially in this post-9/11 era.
Mitchell 03 -  Don Mitchell, Distinguished Professor of Geography at Syracuse’s Maxwell School: 2003 (“The Liberalization of Free Speech: Or, How Protest in Public Space is Silenced” Stanford Agora Vol. 4 p.43-45 Available at agora.stanford.edu/agora/volume4/articles/mitchell/mitchell.pdf Accessed on 12/11/16)IG
As the preceding argument has indicated, the liberalization of free speech has not always been progressive. And it has not been progressive in both senses of the term. It has not marched steadily forward, uninterrupted, towards the shining light of freedom, to become ever more liberal, ever more just. Rather, to the degree it has been liberalized, this has occurred in fits and starts, with frequent steps backwards or to the side rather than forward. Like any social history, that is, the history of free speech is not a linear one of ever-expanding enlightenment; like any social history it is a history of ongoing struggle. Nor has it been progressive in the sense of necessarily more just, as a close focus on the geography of speech makes clear. Geographical analysis has shown that what sometimes appears as a progressive reinforcement of a right to speech and assembly is really (or is also) in fact a means towards its suppression.169
Nonetheless, whatever rights have been won, have been won through struggle and often not by following the law, but by breaking it. Civil disobedience, by labor activists and other picketers, by civil rights marchers, by anti-war protesters, and by Free Speech activists (as with the Free Speech Movement in Berkeley in the sixties), has forced often illiberal theories of speech and assembly to be reconsidered. But against these struggles has to be set a history of governmental recidivism: the Palmer raids and Red Scare of 1919-1920, the Smith Act of 1940, the McCarthy era, and the antics of COINTELPRO in the 1960s and 1970s, are just a few of the more well-known moments of repression, often cloaked in law and justified as urgent “legitimate state interests” at a time when serious challenges were being made to the “established order” or when other exigent factors induced panic within the government and the public at large. The history of speech and assembly, that is, can be told as an on-going struggle against recurring illiberalism.
We are, most likely, now reentering an illiberal phase, and if I am right that civil disobedience has always been necessary to winning and securing rights to assembly and speech, there is a great deal to be deeply concerned about. For the closing off of space to protest has made civil disobedience all the more necessary right at the moment when new laws make civil disobedience not just illegal, but potentially terroristic. The witch’s brew of Supreme Court spatial regulation of speech and assembly and new antiterrorism laws portends deep trouble for those of us who think we have a duty as well as a right to transform our government when we think it is in the wrong, a duty and a right for which street protest is sometimes the only resource.
Within six weeks of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, Congress had passed, and the President signed into law, the Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism Act of 2001 (USA PATRIOT Act).170 Among its many provisions, the Act defines as domestic terrorism, and therefore covered under the Act, “acts dangerous to human life that are in violation of the criminal laws,” if they “appear to be intended … to influence the policy of a government by intimidation or coercion” and if they “occur primarily within the territorial jurisdiction of the United States.”171 As Nancy Chang argues:
Acts of civil disobedience that take place in the United States necessarily meet three of the five elements in the definition of domestic terrorism: they constitute a “violation of the criminal laws,” they are “intended … to influence the policy of a government,” and they “occur primarily within the territorial jurisdiction of the United States.” Many acts of civil disobedience, including the blocking of streets and points of egress by nonviolent means during a demonstration or sit-in, could be construed as “acts dangerous to human life” that appear to be intended to influence the policy of a government “by intimidation or coercion,” which case they would meet the crimes remaining elements…. As a result, protest activities that previously would most likely have ended with a charge of disorderly conduct under a local ordinance can now lead to federal prosecution and conviction for terrorism.172
As the space for protest has become more and more tightly zoned, the likelihood that laws will be broken in the course of a demonstration – a demonstration seeking to “influence a policy of government” – increases. And, of course, the very reason for engaging in a demonstration is to coerce, even if it is not to directly “intimidate.” One should not be sanguine about the “or” placed between intimidate and coerce. It means just what it says: coercion or intimidation will be enough for prosecution.173 Now even civil disobedience can be construed as an act of terrorism.
The intersection of the new repressive state apparatus being constructed in the wake of September 11 with nearly a century of speech and assembly “liberalization” portends a frightening new era in the history of speech and assembly in America. We may soon come to long for those days when protest in public space was only silenced through the strategic geography of the public forum doctrine.

This geography implies that speech becomes dangerous and thus illegal as it becomes effective – that necessarily means effective protest become illegal and what’s left is empty.
Mitchell 03 -  Don Mitchell, Distinguished Professor of Geography at Syracuse’s Maxwell School: 2003 (“The Liberalization of Free Speech: Or, How Protest in Public Space is Silenced” Stanford Agora Vol. 4 p.9-14 Available at agora.stanford.edu/agora/volume4/articles/mitchell/mitchell.pdf Accessed on 12/11/16)IG
The Gitlow decision, and after it the appeals court decision regarding William Epton,31 referenced Holmes’s words in Schenck, and tried to determine just what constituted a “clear and present danger.” But “the future embraced the Holmes of Abrams rather than the Holmes of Schenck.”32 In his dissent in Abrams, Holmes wrote this:
When men have realized that time has upset many fighting faiths, they may come to believe even more than they believe the very foundations of their own conduct that the ultimate good desired is better reached by the free trade in ideas – that the best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the market, and that truth is the only ground upon which their wishes can safely be carried out. That at any rate is the theory of our Constitution. It is an experiment, as all life is an experiment. Every year if not every day we have to wager our salvation upon some prophesy based upon imperfect knowledge. While that experiment is part of our system I think therefore we should be eternally vigilant against attempts to check the expression of opinions that we loathe and believe fraught with death, unless they so imminently threaten immediate interference with the lawful and pressing purposes of the law that an immediate check is required to save the country.33
As remarkable and stirring as that passage is, it is also deeply problematic. Its liberal foundation, for example, has no means to recognize differences in power – or even in access to the market, powers that, as we have come to know so well in the current era of media communication, can be absolutely determinant of who can speak and who can be heard.34
As importantly, and as I have explored in detail in other work,35 it is problematic because it puts into place – by implication in Holmes’s own words, but later made explicit in a whole series of cases36 – a distinction between speech and conduct. Even “First Amendment absolutists,” like Justice Hugo Black saw nothing wrong with the regulation of peaceful rallies if their conduct interfered with some other legitimate interest.37 This conduct could be widely interpreted.38 For most of the first half of the twentieth century, conduct that could be prohibited included the mere act of picketing. Courts upheld numerous injunctions against picketing on the basis that the conduct it entailed was necessarily either violent or harassing.39 Indeed, in one famous case in the 1920s, Chief Justice William Taft wrote of picketing, that its very “persistence, importunity, following and dogging” offended public morals and created a dangerous nuisance.40 The problem with picketing, Taft thought, was twofold. First, through its combination of action and speech, it tried to convince people not to enter some establishment; second, it tended to draw a crowd.41 To the degree it did both – that is, to the degree that is successfully communicated its message – it interrupted business and, in Taft’s eyes, undermined the business’s property rights, and therefore could be legitimately enjoined.42 Speech was worth protecting to the degree that is was not effective. Not until the 1940s did the Court begin to recognize that there might be an important speech right worth protecting in addition to the unprotected conduct.43
There is an additional result of Holmes’s declaration about the value of speech in Abrams. Whereas the First Amendment is silent on why speech is to be protected from Congressional interference,44 Holmes makes it clear that the protection of speech serves a particular purpose: improving the state.45 Indeed, he quickly admits that speech likely to harm the state can be outlawed.46 And neither he nor the Court ever moved away from the “clear and present danger” test of Schenck.47 Speech, Holmes argues, is a good insofar as it helps promote and protect the “truth” of the state.48 There is a large amount of room allowed here for criticism of the state, but it can still be quieted by anything that can reasonably construed as a “legitimate state interest” (like protecting the property rights of a company subject to a strike).49 According to the Gitlow Court (if not Holmes, who did not see in Gitlow’s pamphlet enough of a clear and present danger), any speech that “endangers the foundations of organized government and threatens its overthrow by unlawful means” can be banned.50 Note here that speech does not have to advocate the overthrow of government; rather, it can be banned if through its persuasiveness others might seek to overthrow the government.51 On such grounds all manner of manifestos, and many types of street speaking, may be banned. And more broadly, as evidenced in picketing cases like American Steel Foundries, a similar prohibition may be placed on speech that, again through its persuasiveness (e.g. as to the unjustness of some practice or event) rather than through direct exhortation, may incite people to violence. Of course, speech (and its sister right, assembly), must take place somewhere and it must implicate some set of spatial relations, some regime of control over access to places to speak and places to listen.52 Consequently, the limits to speech, or more accurately the means of limiting speech, become increasingly geographic beginning in utopian. 13
1939 in the case Hague v. CIO, when the Supreme Court finally recognized that public spaces like streets and parks were necessary not only to speech itself but to political organizing.53 The problem is not always exactly what is said, but where it is said. At issue in Hague was whether the rights to speech and assembly extends to the use of the streets and other public places for political purposes, and in what ways that use could be regulated. The Court based its decision in a language of common law, arguing that “wherever the title of the streets and parks may rest, they have immemorially been held in trust for use of the public and, time out of mind, have been used for purposes of assembly, communicating thoughts between citizens, and discussing public questions.”54 But whatever the roots for such a claim may be in common law, it hardly stands historical scrutiny in the United States, where the violent repression of street politics has always been as much a feature of urban life as its promotion.55 That makes Hague v. CIO a landmark decision: it states clearly for the first time that “the use of the streets and parks for the communication of views on national questions may be regulated in the interest of all … but it must not, in the guise of regulation, be abridged or denied.”56 At the same time, the Court made it clear that protected speech in public spaces was always to be “exercised in subordination to the general comfort and convenience, and in consonance with peace and good order….”57 The question, then, became one of finding the ways to regulate speech (and associated conduct) such that order – and even “general comfort” – was always maintained.
The answers to that question were spatial. They were based on a regulation of urban geography in the name of both “good order” and “general comfort” and of the rights to speech and assembly. Speech rights needed to be balanced against other interests and desires. But order and comfort, it ought to go without saying, suggest a much lower threshold than does “clear and present danger.” While recognizing in a new way a fundamental right to speech and assembly, that is, the Hague court in fact found a language to severely limit that right, and perhaps even to limit it more effectively than had heretofore been possible. To put this another way (and as I will argue more fully below), the new spatial order of speech and assembly that the Court began constructing in Hague allowed for the full flowering of a truly liberal speech regime: a regime for which we are all, in fact, the poorer.

Education is increasingly driven by neoliberal forces – student activism is key to retake the political sphere and democratize elite education against market-driven logic
Williams 15 Jo Williams (Lecturer, College of Education at Victoria University), "Remaking education from below: the Chilean student movement as public pedagogy," Australian Journal of Adult Learning, November 2015 AZ
More than ever the crisis of schooling represents, at large, the crisis of democracy itself and any attempt to understand the attack on public schooling and higher education cannot be separated from the wider assault on all forms of public life not driven by the logic of the market (Giroux, 2003:7) “Fin al lucro en educación, nuestros sueños no les pertenecen” (end profit making in education, nobody owns our dreams 1 ) (slogan of the Chilean student movement, inspired by the French student uprisings of May-June 1968) Over the past four decades, as the economic and ideological depravity of neoliberal policy and its market-driven logic (D. W. Hursh and Henderson, 2011) has been brought to bear on every aspect of education, the very concept of ‘public’ has been negated. Characteristics such as user-pays, competition, assaults on teachers, and mass standardised-testing and rankings, are among the features of a schooling, which is now very much seen as a private rather than public good (Giroux, 2003). The question of public education as a democratic force for the radical transformation of a violently unjust society seems rarely if ever asked, and a dangerous co-option and weakening of the language and practice of progressive pedagogy has occurred to the extent that notions of inclusion and success are increasingly limited to narrowly conceived individualist and competitive measures of market advantage. As Giroux notes “the forces of neo-liberalism dissolve public issues into utterly privatised and individualistic concerns (2004:62), and despite ongoing official rhetoric “the only form of citizenship increasingly being offered to young people is consumerism” (2003:7). Neoliberal education sees students and young people as passive consumers, the emphasis of schooling on learning how to be governed rather than how to govern (Giroux, 2003:7). In such a context the space for a public pedagogy, based on challenging the hegemony of neoliberal ideology and aligned with collective resistance, appears limited at best. And yet, every day people, teachers, students and communities do engage in political struggle, enacting pedagogies that seek to unveil rather than continue to mask the political structures and organisation that ensures power remains in the hands of the few, and at the service of the few, at the expense of the rest of us. Giroux characterises public pedagogies as defined by hope, struggle and a politicisation of the education process. He argues for …a politics of resistance that extends beyond the classroom as part of a broader struggle to challenge those forces of neo-liberalism that currently wage war against all collective structures capable of defending vital social institutions as a public good (Giroux, 2003:14). Central to Giroux’s argument is the need for critical educators to look to, value, and engage in and with social movements as they emerge and develop as sites of resistance. To …take sides, speak out, and engage in the hard work of debunking corporate culture’s assault on teaching and learning, orient their teaching for social change, connect learning to public life and link knowledge to the operations of power (Giroux, 2004:77). He argues that “progressive education in an age of rampant neoliberalism requires an expanded notion of the public, pedagogy, solidarity, and democratic struggle” (Giroux, 2003:13), and that moreover, educators need to work against a “politics of certainty” and instead develop and engage in pedagogical practice that problematises the world and fosters a sense of collective resistance and hope (2003:14). A neoliberal vision of the ‘good citizen’ and ‘good student’ presumes passivity, acceptance of the status quo and an individualistic disposition. Critical pedagogues must seek out and embrace opportunities to support and celebrate collective political action, not only because it develops a sense of social and political agency but also because it constitutes a powerful basis for authentic learning and active and critical citizenship in an unjust world (Freire, 1970). The Chilean student movement stands as one such example of challenging and inspiring counter-practice and a reclaiming of pedagogy as political and public. For ten years students have filled Chile’s streets, occupied their schools and universities, and organised conferences, public Remaking education from below: the Chilean student movement as public pedagogy 499 meetings, political stunts, creative actions and protests. Students and young people have been at the centre of the largest and most sustained political action seen in Chile since the democratic movement of the 80s, which eventually forced out the Pinochet dictatorship. Despite global trends in the opposite direction, the Chilean students have fundamentally influenced a nationwide education reform program constituting significant changes to the existing system which has been described as an extreme example of market-driven policy (Valenzuela, Bellei, and Ríos, 2014:220). Most importantly, they have forced and led a nationwide dialogue on the question of education and social justice in Chile and an interrogation of the current, grossly inequitable and elitist model (Falabella, 2008). This article begins by reviewing the experiences of the Chilean student movement to date and offering a brief explanation of the historical development of the education system it seeks to dismantle. It then considers the movement as an example of public pedagogies, concluding with a discussion of how it might inform notions of radical educational practice and a return of the student and pedagogue as authentic and critical subjects.
The Role of the Ballot is to assume the role of an academic fighting neoliberalism to reclaim the academy and higher education. Objectivity is a lie placing an absolute truth where there is none to find except for the statement that neoliberalism is violent and uses normativity as a shield to hide their lies of oppression. Refuse that ethical criteria and embrace higher education’s true calling.
Giroux 13 (Henry, American scholar and cultural critic. One of the founding theorists of critical pedagogy in the United States, he is best known for his pioneering work in public pedagogy, “Public Intellectuals Against the Neoliberal University,” 29 October 2013, http://www.truth-out.org/opinion/item/19654-public-intellectuals-against-the-neoliberal-university)//ghs-VA
Increasingly, as universities are shaped by an audit culture, the call to be objective and impartial, whatever one's intentions, can easily echo what George Orwell called the official truth or the establishment point of view. Lacking a self-consciously democratic political focus, teachers are often reduced, or reduce themselves, to the role of a technician or functionary engaged in formalistic rituals, unconcerned with the disturbing and urgent problems that confront the larger society or the consequences of one's pedagogical practices and research undertakings. Hiding behind appeals to balance and objectivity, too many scholars refuse to recognize that being committed to something does not cancel out what C. Wright Mills once called hard thinking. Teaching needs to be rigorous, self-reflective, and committed not to the dead zone of instrumental rationality but to the practice of freedom, to a critical sensibility capable of advancing the parameters of knowledge, addressing crucial social issues, and connecting private troubles and public issues. In opposition to the instrumental model of teaching, with its conceit of political neutrality and its fetishization of measurement, I argue that academics should combine the mutually interdependent roles of critical educator and active citizen. This requires finding ways to connect the practice of classroom teaching with important social problems and the operation of power in the larger society while providing the conditions for students to view themselves as critical agents capable of making those who exercise authority and power answerable for their actions. Higher education cannot be decoupled from what Jacques Derrida calls a democracy to come, that is, a democracy that must always "be open to the possibility of being contested, of contesting itself, of criticizing and indefinitely improving itself."33 Within this project of possibility and impossibility, critical pedagogy must be understood as a deliberately informed and purposeful political and moral practice, as opposed to one that is either doctrinaire, instrumentalized or both. Moreover, a critical pedagogy should also gain part of its momentum in higher education among students who will go back to the schools, churches, synagogues and workplaces to produce new ideas, concepts and critical ways of understanding the world in which young people and adults live. This is a notion of intellectual practice and responsibility that refuses the professional neutrality and privileged isolation of the academy.  It also affirms a broader vision of learning that links knowledge to the power of self-definition and to the capacities of students to expand the scope of democratic freedoms, particularly those that address the crisis of education, politics, and the social as part and parcel of the crisis of democracy itself. In order for critical pedagogy, dialogue and thought to have real effects, they must advocate that all citizens, old and young, are equally entitled, if not equally empowered, to shape the society in which they live. This is a commitment we heard articulated by the brave students who fought tuition hikes and the destruction of civil liberties and social provisions in Quebec and to a lesser degree in the Occupy Wall Street movement. If educators are to function as public intellectuals, they need to listen to young people who are producing a new language in order to talk about inequality and power relations, attempting to create alternative democratic public spaces, rethinking the very nature of politics, and asking serious questions about what democracy is and why it no longer exists in many neoliberal societies. These young people who are protesting the 1 recognize that they have been written out of the discourses of justice, equality and democracy and are not only resisting how neoliberalism has made them expendable, they are arguing for a collective future very different from the one that is on display in the current political and economic systems in which they feel trapped.  These brave youth are insisting that the relationship between knowledge and power can be emancipatory, that their histories and experiences matter, and that what they say and do counts in their struggle to unlearn dominating privileges, productively reconstruct their relations with others, and transform, when necessary, the world around them.

Neolib produces international conflicts and environmental collapse – extinction
Ehrenfeld ‘5 (David, Dept. of Ecology, Evolution, and Natural Resources @ Rutgers University, “The Environmental Limits to Globalization”, Conservation Biology Vol. 19 No. 2 April 2005)
The known effects of globalization on the environment are numerous and highly significant. Many others are undoubtedly unknown. Given these circumstances, the first question that suggests itself is: Will globalization, as we see it now, remain a permanent state of affairs (Rees 2002; Ehrenfeld 2003a)? The principal environmental side effects of globalization—climate change, resource exhaustion (particularly cheap energy), damage to agroecosystems, and the spread of exotic species, including pathogens (plant, animal, and human)—are sufficient to make this economic system unstable and short-lived. The socioeconomic consequences of globalization are likely to do the same. In my book The Arrogance of Humanism (1981), I claimed that our ability to manage global systems, which depends on our being able to predict the results of the things we do, or even to understand the systems we have created, has been greatly exaggerated. Much of our alleged control is science fiction; it doesn’t work because of theoretical limits that we ignore at our peril. We live in a dream world in which reality testing is something we must never, never do, lest we awake. In 1984 Charles Perrow explored the reasons why we have trouble predicting what so many of our own created systems will do, and why they surprise us so unpleasantly while we think we are managing them. In his book Normal Accidents, which does not concern globalization, he listed the critical characteristics of some of today’s complex systems. They are highly interlinked, so a change in one part can affect many others, even those that seem quite distant. Results of some processes feed back on themselves in unexpected ways. The controls of the system often interact with each other unpredictably. We have only indirect ways of finding out what is happening inside the system. And we have an incomplete understanding of some of the system’s processes. His example of such a system is a nuclear power plant, and this, he explained, is why system-wide accidents in nuclear plants cannot be predicted or eliminated by system design. I would argue that globalization is a similar system, also subject to catastrophic accidents, many of them environmental—events that we cannot define until after they have occurred, and perhaps not even then. The comparatively few commentators who have predicted the collapse of globalization have generally given social reasons to support their arguments. These deserve some consideration here, if only because the environmental and social consequences of globalization interact so strongly with each other. In 1998, the British political economist John Gray, giving scant attention to environmental factors, nevertheless came to the conclusion that globalization is unstable and will be short-lived. He said, “There is nothing in today’s global market that buffers it against the social strains arising from highly uneven economic development within and between the world’s diverse societies.” The result, Gray states, is that “The combination of an unceasing stream of new technologies, unfettered market competition and weak or fractured social institutions” has weakened both sovereign states and multinational corporations in their ability to control important events. Note that Gray claims that not only nations but also multinational corporations, which are widely touted as controlling the world, are being weakened by globalization. This idea may come as a surprise, considering the growth of multinationals in the past few decades, but I believe it is true. Neither governments nor giant corporations are even remotely capable of controlling the environmental or social forces released by globalization, without first controlling globalization itself. Two of the social critics of globalization with the most dire predictions about its doom are themselves masters of the process. The late Sir James Goldsmith, billionaire financier, wrote in 1994, It must surely be a mistake to adopt an economic policy which makes you rich if you eliminate your national workforce and transfer production abroad, and which bankrupts you if you continue to employ your own people.... It is the poor in the rich countries who will subsidize the rich in the poor countries. This will have a serious impact on the social cohesion of nations. Another free-trade billionaire, George Soros, said much the same thing in 1995: “The collapse of the global marketplace would be a traumatic event with unimaginable consequences. Yet I find it easier to imagine than the continuation of the present regime.” How much more powerful these statements are if we factor in the environment! As globalization collapses, what will happen to people, biodiversity, and ecosystems? With respect to people, the gift of prophecy is not required to answer this question. What will happen depends on where you are and how you live. Many citizens of the Third World are still comparatively self-sufficient; an unknown number of these will survive the breakdown of globalization and its attendant chaos. In the developed world, there are also people with resources of self-sufficiency and a growing understanding of the nature of our social and environmental problems, which may help them bridge the years of crisis. Some species are adaptable; some are not. For the non- human residents of Earth, not all news will be bad. Who would have predicted that wild turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo), one of the wiliest and most evasive of woodland birds, extinct in New Jersey 50 years ago, would now be found in every county of this the most densely populated state, and even, occasionally, in adjacent Manhattan? Who would have predicted that black bears (Ursus americanus), also virtually extinct in the state in the mid-twentieth century, would now number in the thousands (Ehrenfeld 2001)? Of course these recoveries are unusual—rare bright spots in a darker landscape. Finally, a few ecological systems may survive in a comparatively undamaged state; most will be stressed to the breaking point, directly or indirectly, by many environmental and social factors interacting unpredictably. Lady Luck, as always, will have much to say. In his book The Collapse of Complex Societies, the archaeologist Joseph Tainter (1988) notes that collapse, which has happened to all past empires, inevitably results in human systems of lower complexity and less specialization, less centralized control, lower economic activity, less information flow, lower population levels, less trade, and less redistribution of resources. All of these changes are inimical to globalization. This less-complex, less-globalized condition is probably what human societies will be like when the dust settles. I do not think, however, that we can make such specific predictions about the ultimate state of the environment after globalization, because we have never experienced anything like this exceptionally rapid, global environmental damage before. History and science have little to tell us in this situation. The end of the current economic system and the transition to a postglobalized state is and will be accompanied by a desperate last raid on resources and a chaotic flurry of environmental destruction whose results cannot possibly be told in advance. All one can say is that the surviving species, ecosystems, and resources will be greatly impoverished compared with what we have now, and our descendants will not thank us for having adopted, however briefly, an economic system that consumed their inheritance and damaged their planet so wantonly. Environment is a true bottom line—concern for its condition must trump all purely economic growth strategies if both the developed and developing nations are to survive and prosper. Awareness of the environmental limits that globalized industrial society denies or ignores should not, however, bring us to an extreme position of environmental determinism. Those whose preoccupations with modern civilization’s very real social problems cause them to reject or minimize the environmental constraints discussed here ( Hollander 2003) are guilty of seeing only half the picture. Environmental scientists sometimes fall into the same error. It is tempting to see the salvation of civilization and environment solely in terms of technological improvements in efficiency of energy extraction and use, control of pollution, conservation of water, and regulation of environmentally harmful activities. But such needed developments will not be sufficient—or may not even occur— without corresponding social change, including an end to human population growth and the glorification of consumption, along with the elimination of economic mechanisms that increase the gap between rich and poor. The environmental and social problems inherent in globalization are completely interrelated—any attempt to treat them as separate entities is unlikely to succeed in easing the transition to a postglobalized world. Integrated change that combines environmental awareness, technological innovation, and an altered world view is the only answer to the life-threatening problems exacerbated by globalization (Ehrenfeld 2003b). If such integrated change occurs in time, it will likely happen partly by our own design and partly as an unplanned response to the constraints imposed by social unrest, disease, and the economics of scarcity. With respect to the planned component of change, we are facing, as eloquently described by Rees (2002), “the ultimate challenge to human intelligence and self-awareness, those vital qualities we humans claim as uniquely our own. Homo sapiens will either. . .become fully human or wink out ignominiously, a guttering candle in a violent storm of our own making.” If change does not come quickly, our global civilization will join Tainter’s (1988) list as the latest and most dramatic example of collapsed complex societies. Is there anything that could slow globalization quickly, before it collapses disastrously of its own environmental and social weight? It is still not too late to curtail the use of energy, reinvigorate local and regional communities while restoring a culture of concern for each other, reduce nonessential global trade and especially global finance (Daly and Cobb 1989), do more to control introductions of exotic species (including pathogens), and accelerate the growth of sustainable agriculture. Many of the needed technologies are already in place. It is true that some of the damage to our environment—species extinctions, loss of crop and domestic animal varieties, many exotic species introductions, and some climatic change— will be beyond repair. Nevertheless, the opportunity to help our society move past globalization in an orderly way, while there is time, is worth our most creative and passionate efforts. The citizens of the United States and other nations have to understand that our global economic system has placed both our environment and our society in peril, a peril as great as that posed by any war of the twentieth century. This understanding, and the actions that follow, must come not only from enlightened leadership, but also from grassroots consciousness raising. It is still possible to reclaim the planet from a self-destructive economic system that is bringing us all down together, and this can be a task that bridges the divide between conservatives and liberals. The crisis is here, now. What we have to do has become obvious. Globalization can be scaled back to manageable proportions only in the context of an altered world view that rejects materialism even as it restores a sense of communal obligation. In this way, alone, can we achieve real homeland security, not just in the United States, but also in other nations, whose fates have become so thoroughly entwined with ours within the global environment we share.

Student protests oppose neoliberalism in higher education, translating theory into praxis
Delgado and Ross 16 Sandra Delgado (doctoral student in curriculum studies at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada) and E. Wayne Ross (Professor in the Faculty of Education at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada), "Students in Revolt: The Pedagogical Potential of Student Collective Action in the Age of the Corporate University" 2016 (published on Academia.edu) AZ
As students’ collective actions keep gaining more political relevance, student and university movements also establish themselves as spaces of counter-hegemony (Sotiris, 2014). Students are constantly opening new possibilities to displace and resist the commodification of education offered by mainstream educational institutions. As Sotiris (2014) convincingly argues, movements within the university have not only the potential to subvert educational reforms, but in addition, they have become “strategic nodes” for the transformation of the processes and practices in higher education, and most importantly for the constant re-imagination and the recreation of “new forms of subaltern counter-hegemony” (p. 1). The strategic importance of university and college based moments lays precisely in the role that higher education plays in contemporary societies, namely their role in “the development of new technologies, new forms of production and for the articulation of discourses and theories on contemporary issues and their role in the reproduction of state and business personnel.” (p.8) Universities and colleges therefore, have a crucial contribution in “the development of class strategies (both dominant and subaltern), in the production of subjectivities, (and) in the transformation of collective practices” (p.8) The main objective of this paper is to examine how contemporary student movements are disrupting, opposing and displacing entrenched oppressive and dehumanizing reforms, practices and frames in today’s corporate academia. This work is divided in four sections. The first is an introduction to student movements and an overview of how student political action has been approached and researched. The second and third sections take a closer look at the repertoires of contention used by contemporary student movements and propose a framework based on radical praxis that allows us to better understand the pedagogical potential of student disruptive action. The last section contains a series of examples of students’ repertoires or tactics of contention that exemplifies the pedagogical potential of student social and political action. An Overview of Student Movements Generally speaking, students are well positioned as political actors. They have been actively involved in the politics of education since the beginnings of the university, but more broadly, students have played a significant role in defining social, cultural and political environments around the world (Altbach, 1966; Boren, 2001). The contributions and influences of students and student movements to revolutionary efforts and political movements beyond the university context are undeniable. One example is the role that students have played in the leadership and membership of the political left (e.g. students’ role in the Movimiento 26 de Julio - M-26-7 in Cuba during the 50’s and in the formation of The New Left in the United States, among others). Similarly, several political and social movements have either established alliances with student organizations or created their own chapters on campuses to recruit new members, mobilize their agendas in education and foster earlier student’s involvement in politics2 (Altbach, 1966; Lipset, 1969). Students are often considered to be “catalysts” of political and social action or “barometers” of the social unrest and political tension accumulated in society (Barker, 2008). Throughout history student movements have had a diverse and sometimes contradictory range of political commitments. Usually, student organizations and movements find grounding and inspiration in Anarchism and Marxism, however it is also common to see movements leaning towards liberal and conservative approaches. Hence, student political action has not always been aligned with social movements or organizations from the political left. In various moments in history students have joined or been linked to rightist movements, reactionary organizations and conservative parties (Altbach, 1966; Barker, 2008). Students, unlike workers, come from different social classes and seemly different cultural backgrounds. As a particularly diverse social group, students are distinguished for being heterogeneous and pluralists in their values, interests and commitments (Boren, 2001). Such diversity has been a constant challenge for maintaining unity, which has been particularly problematic in cases of national or transnational student organizations (Prusinowska, Kowzan, and Zielińska, 2012; Somma, 2012). To clarify, social classes are defined by the specific relationship that people have with the means of production. In the case of students, they are not a social class by themselves, but a social layer or social group that is identifiable by their common function in society (Stedman, 1969). The main or central aspect that unites student is the transitory social condition of being a student. In other words, students are a social group who have a common function, role in society or social objective, which is “to study” something (Lewis, 2013; Simons and Masschelein, 2009). Student movements can be understood as a form of social movement (LuesherMamashela, 2015). They have an internal organization that varies from traditionally hierarchical structures, organizational schemes based on representative democracy with charismatic leadership, to horizontal forms of decision-making (Altbach, 1966; Lipset, 1969). As many other movements, student movements have standing claims, organize different type of actions, tactics or repertoires of contention, 3 and they advocate for political, social or/and educational agendas, programs or pleas.
Student protest combats racial inequality by sparking national dialogue and movements
Curwen 15 Thomas Curwen, Jason Song and Larry Gordon (reporters), "What's different about the latest wave of college activism," LA Times, 11/18/2015 AZ
Although some of the strategies may seem familiar, it is the speed and the urgency of today's protests that are different. "What is unique about these issues is how social media has changed the way protests take place on college campuses," said Tyrone Howard, associate dean of equity, diversity and inclusion at UCLA. "A protest goes viral in no time flat. With Instagram and Twitter, you're in an immediate news cycle. This was not how it was 20 or 30 years ago." Howard also believes that the effectiveness of the actions at the University of Missouri has encouraged students on other campuses to raise their voices. "A president stepping down is a huge step," he said. "Students elsewhere have to wonder, 'Wow, if that can happen there, why can't we bring out our issues to the forefront as well?'" Shaun R. Harper, executive director of the University of Pennsylvania's Center for the Study of Race and Equity in Education, agrees. The resignation of two top Missouri administrators, Harper said, showed students and athletes around the country that they have power they may not have realized before. The protests show "we're all together and we have the power to make the change we deserve," said Lindsay Opoku-Acheampong, a senior studying biology at Occidental. "It's affirming," said Dalin Celamy, also a senior at the college. "It lets us know we're not crazy; it's happening to people who are just like you all over the country." Celamy, along with other students, not only watched the unfolding protests across the country, but also looked to earlier protests, including an occupation of an administrative building at Occidental in 1968. Echoes of the 1960s in today's actions are clear, said Robert Cohen, a history professor at New York University and author of "Freedom's Orator," a biography of Mario Savio, who led the Free Speech Movement at UC Berkeley in the 1960s. "The tactical dynamism of these nonviolent protests and the public criticism of them are in important ways reminiscent of the 1960s," Cohen said. "Today's protests, like those in the '60s, are memorable because they have been effective in pushing for change and sparking dialogue as well as polarization." Although the targets of these protests are the blatant and subtle forms of racism and inequity that affect the students' lives, the message of the protests resonates with the recent incidents of intolerance and racial inequity on the streets of America. There is a reason for this, Howard said. Campuses are microcosms of society, he said, and are often comparable in terms of representation and opportunity. "So there is a similar fight for more representation, acceptance and inclusion." The dynamic can create a complicated and sensitive social order for students of color to negotiate. "Latino and African American students are often under the belief if they leave their community and go to colleges, that it will be better," Howard said. "They believe it will be an upgrade over the challenges that they saw in underserved and understaffed schools. But if the colleges and universities are the same as those schools, then there is disappointment and frustration." In addition, Howard said, when these students leave their community to go to a university, they often feel conflicted. "So when injustice comes up," he said, "they are quick to respond because it is what they saw in their community. On some level, it is their chance to let their parents and peers know that they have not forgotten the struggle in the community." On campuses and off, Harper, of the University of Pennsylvania center, finds a rising sense of impatience among African Americans about social change. "As a black person, I think black people are just fed up. It's time out for ignoring these issues," he said. While protests in the 1960s helped create specific safeguards for universities today, such as Title IX, guaranteeing equal access for all students to any educational program or activity receiving federal financial assistance, a gap has widened over the years between students and administrators over perceptions of bias. Institutions often valued for their support of free speech find themselves wrestling with the prospect of limiting free speech, but to focus on what is or isn't politically correct avoids the more important issue, Cohen said: whether campuses are diverse enough or how to reduce racism. Occidental student Raihana Haynes-Venerable has heard criticism that modern students are too sensitive, but she argues that subtle forms of discrimination still have a profound effect. She pointed to women making less than men and fewer minorities getting jobs as examples. "This is the new form of racism," she said.
Thus the plan –
Resolved: Public colleges and universities in the United States ought not restrict constitutionally protected speech to free speech zones.
Free speech zones limit student discourse and should be prohibited
Hudson 16 (David L. Hudson Jr. is a First Amendment expert and law professor who serves as First Amendment Ombudsman for the Newseum Institute’s First Amendment Center. He contributes research and commentary, provides analysis and information to news media. He is an author, co-author or co-editor of more than 40 books, including Let The Students Speak: A History of the Fight for Free Expression in American Schools (Beacon Press, 2011), The Encyclopedia of the First Amendment (CQ Press, 2008) (one of three co-editors), The Rehnquist Court: Understanding Its Impact and Legacy (Praeger, 2006), and The Handy Supreme Court Answer Book (Visible Ink Press, 2008). He has written several books devoted to student-speech issues and others areas of student rights. He writes regularly for the ABA Journal and the American Bar Association’s Preview of United States Supreme Court Cases. He has served as a senior law clerk at the Tennessee Supreme Court, and teaches First Amendment and Professional Responsibility classes at Vanderbilt Law School and various classes at the Nashville School of Law), "How Campus Policies Limit Free Speech," Huffington Post, 6/1/2016 AZ
Restricting where students can have free speech
In addition, many colleges and universities have free speech zones. Under these policies, people can speak at places of higher learning in only certain, specific locations or zones. While there are remnants of these policies from the 1960s, they grew in number in the late 1990s and early 2000s as a way for administrators to deal with controversial expression. These policies may have a seductive appeal for administrators, as they claim to advance the cause of free speech. But, free speech zones often limit speech by relegating expression to just a few locations. For example, some colleges began by having only two or three free speech zones on campus. The idea of zoning speech is not unique to colleges and universities. Government officials have sought to diminish the impact of different types of expression by zoning adult-oriented expression, antiabortion protestors and political demonstrators outside political conventions. In a particularly egregious example, a student at Modesto Junior College in California named Robert Van Tuinen was prohibited from handing out copies of the United States Constitution on September 17, 2013 - the anniversary of the signing of the Constitution. Van Tuinen was informed that he could get permission to distribute the Constitution if he preregistered for time in the “free speech zone.” But later, Van Tuinen was told by an administrator that he would have to wait, possibly until the next month. In the words of First Amendment expert Charles Haynes, “the entire campus should be a free speech zone.” In other words, the default position of school administrators should be to allow speech, not limit it. Zoning speech is troubling, particularly when it reduces the overall amount of speech on campus. And many free speech experts view the idea of a free speech zone as “moronic and oxymoronic.” College or university campuses should be a place where free speech not only survives but thrives.
Public discourse is protected by the First Amendment
Weinstein 11 – James Weinstein, Amelia D. Lewis Professor of Constitutional Law, Sandra Day O'Connor College of Law, Arizona State University: 2011(PARTICIPATORY DEMOCRACY AS THE CENTRAL VALUE OF AMERICAN FREE SPEECH DOCTRINE, Virginia Law Review Vol 97:3 p.3, Available at https://web.law.asu.edu/Portals/31/Weinstein_UVA_May_2011.pdf Accessed on 12/14/16)IG
As Professor Robert Post's pioneering work has demonstrated, this extremely rigorous protection applies primarily within the do- main of "public discourse." Public discourse consists of speech on matters of public concern, or, largely without respect to its subject matter, of expression in settings dedicated or essential to democratic self-governance, such as books, magazines, films, the internet, or in public forums such as the speaker's corner of the park. It is in this realm that the people-the ultimate governors in a democracy-can freely examine and discuss the rules, norms, and conditions that constitute society. Precisely because public discourse in the United States is so strongly protected, however, the realm dedicated to such expression cannot be conceived as covering the entire expanse of human expression. Just as it is imperative in a democracy to have a realm in which any idea, practice, or norm can be questioned as vituperatively as the speaker chooses, there must be other settings in which the government may efficiently carry out the results yielded by the democratic process. Accordingly, in set- tings dedicated to some purpose other than public discourse-such as those dedicated to effectuating government programs in the government workplace," to the administration of justice in the courtroom," or to instruction in public schools the government has far greater leeway to regulate the content of speech.
It is not just the content of the speech that determines whether the expression will be highly protected as public discourse, but also the setting or medium in which the expression occurs." In modern democratic societies, certain modes of communication form "a structural skeleton that is necessary, although not sufficient, for public discourse to serve the constitutional value of democracy”. For this reason, "it is assumed that if a medium is constitutionally protected by the First Amendment, each instance of the medium would also be protected." The importance of the medium in which a given instance of speech occurs to democratic self- governance is, in my view, the best explanation of why the Su- preme Court rigorously protects nudity in film and cable television-media that are in its view part of the "structural skeleton" of public discourse-but not in live performances by erotic dancers on the stage of a "strip club."
Free speech zones and no protest zones infringe on protected speech and shut down impromptu uprising which disarms the most effective form of resistance and forces reform efforts to bend to the will of the established system
Mitchell 03 -  Don Mitchell, Distinguished Professor of Geography at Syracuse’s Maxwell School: 2003 (“The Liberalization of Free Speech: Or, How Protest in Public Space is Silenced” Stanford Agora Vol. 4 p.36-37 Available at agora.stanford.edu/agora/volume4/articles/mitchell/mitchell.pdf Accessed on 12/11/16)IG
In the end, a federal judge upheld the city’s position, seeing no illegitimate abridgement of protesters’ rights in the City’s establishment of a no protest zone. The judge stated, plainly enough, that “free speech must sometimes bend to public safety.”150 In this case it had to bend for 50 blocks, and right out of downtown – even though in Madsen, the court had found a 36 foot exclusion zone to be reasonable but both a 300 foot zone in which approaching patrons and workers of clinics, and a 300 foot no-protest zone around residences of clinic workers to be too great a burden on free speech, ordering a much smaller no-protest bubble to be drawn.151 Given this sort of spatial specificity in the Supreme Court’s decision, it seems unlikely that such a large protest exclusion zone could withstand scrutiny.
But there is another issue at work too. The judge in Seattle supported the City’s contention that sanctioned protest was acceptable. The no-protest zone was necessary because of impromptu protests. But, of course, the very effectiveness of the Seattle protests was their (apparent) spontaneity.152 That is what caught the media’s – and the public’s – imagination; and that is what allowed for the massive upsurge of political debate, in the U.S. and around the world, that followed.
Perhaps, tactically, Seattle’s “mistake” was to not establish designated protest and no-protest zones in advance of the meetings. Such a move had been effective in the 1996 Democratic and Republican Conventions (and in earlier ones too). And in subsequent years and events it has become standard practice, as with the 2000 National Conventions, the annual meetings of the World Bank and International Monetary Fund in Washington, and the World Economic Forum meeting in New York in February 2002, where protesters are kept out of certain areas by fences, barricades and a heavy police presence.153 In the case of the 2000 Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles, it was the protesters who were fenced off, with the City establishing an official “protest zone” in a fenced parking lot a considerable distance from the convention site.154 The rationale, of course, was “security,” a rationale backed by appeals to the authority of the Secret Service. The ACLU, among others, sued the city, eventually winning a decision that invalidated the city’s plans. The city was forced to establish a protest zone closer to the convention center, with the judge chiding the City of Los Angeles for failing to consider the First Amendment when it established the rules for protest and security around the event. “You can’t shut down the 1st Amendment about what might happen,” the judge said. “You can always theorize some awful scenario.”155 This victory should not be considered very large. Its effect, and the effect of other cases like it, has largely reduced the ACLU and other advocates of speech rights to arguing the fine points of geography, pouring over maps to determine just where protest may occur. Protesters are put entirely on the defensive, always seeking to justify why their voices should be heard and their actions seen, always having to make a claim that it is not unreasonable to assert that protest should be allowed in a place where those being protested against can actually hear it, and always having to “bend” their tactics – and their rights – to fit a legal regime that in every case sees protest subordinate to “the general order” (which, of course, really means the “established order”).

Tournament: Damus | Round: 1 | Opponent: Loyola JC | Judge: Sarah Sherwood
FW
Moral absolutism is useless, given that consequences morally and politically precede intentions.
Isaac Jeffrey Isaac. James H. Rudy professor of Political Science and director of the Center for the Study of Democracy and Public Life at Indiana University, Bloomington, “Ends, Means and politics,” Dissent, Spring 2002
As writers such as Niccolo Machiavelli, Max Weber, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Hannah Arendt have taught, an unyielding concern with moral goodness undercuts political responsibility. The concern may be morally laudable, reflecting a kind of personal integrity, but it suffers from three fatal flaws: (1) It fails to see that the purity of one’s intention does not ensure the achievement of what one intends. Abjuring violence or refusing to make common cause with morally compromised parties may seem like the right thing; but if such tactics entail impotence, then it is hard to view them as serving any moral good beyond the clean conscience of their supporters; (2) it fails to see that in a world of real violence and injustice, moral purity is not simply a form of powerlessness; it is often a form of complicity in injustice. This is why, from the standpoint of politics— as opposed to religion—pacifism is always a potentially immoral stand. In categorically repudiating violence, it refuses in principle to oppose certain violent injustices with any effect; and (3) it fails to see that politics is as much about unintended consequences as it is about intentions; it is the effects of action, rather than the motives of action, that is most significant. Just as the alignment with “good” may engender impotence, it is often the pursuit of “good” that generates evil. This is the lesson of communism in the twentieth century: it is not enough that one’s goals be sincere or idealistic; it is equally important, always, to ask about the effects of pursuing these goals and to judge these effects in pragmatic and historically contextualized ways. Moral absolutism inhibits this judgment. It alienates those who are not true believers. It promotes arrogance. And it undermines political effectiveness.
Only states of affairs give teleological relevance to ethics
Ariansen 98 Per Ariansen (University of Oslo, Department of Philosophy). “Anthropocentrism with a human face.” Ecological Economics 24 (1998) 153–162 AJ
Suspending for a while the idea of morality as a game, one could approach the question of the nature of ethics from another angle. One could try to seek out a set of necessary and sufficient condi- tions for ethics to be operative. What traits of ethics cannot be lacking without ethics losing its meaning? Will ethics be meaningful in a world where no suffering (to focus on the duty to alleviate suffering rather that promote happiness) is known to anyone? Technically it would be possible to tell a lie or break a promise in such a society, but the difference between lying and telling the truth or breaking and keeping promises would have no moral significance, since any outcome of any event is just as good (rather, as indifferent) as any other outcome of the event. In such a world any mention of responsibilities and duties would be meaningless. Ethics clearly needs to relate to joy and suffering. This axiological orientation is necessary to give meaning to the ethical project, to mark it out as an ethical project in contrast to other projects of rationalization.
Global justice requires a reduction in inequality and a focus on material rights.
Okereke 07 Chukwumerije Okereke (Senior Research Associate at the Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research at the University of East Anglia). Global Justice and Neoliberal Environmental Governance. Routledge 2007
Notwithstanding these drawbacks, these scholars provide very compelling arguments against mainstream conceptions of justice. In this approach, the obli- gation of justice is derived from the moral equality of human beings irrespective of their race, creed and nationality (O'Neill 1991; Brown 1992: 169; Beitz 1979; Sen 1999). The emphasis is on the positive rights of citizens - that is the kinds of rights that require state authorities to do something in order to provide citizens with the opportunities and abilities to act to fulfil their own potential - as opposed to negative rights/liberty, which refers to freedom from coercion and non-interfer- ence. The notion of justice as meeting needs, as seen in Chapter 2, figures very prominently in quite a number of the influencing materials that form the starting point for the discourse on global sustainable development. It has been suggested, in general, that this idea of justice is 'increasingly influential on non-governmen- tal organizations and the community of international policy makers' (Brighouse 2004: 67). In general, proponents of justice as need criticize liberal ideas of justice for concentrating on political equality (equal right to speech, vote, etc.) without addressing the problem of material equality - especially in the form of equal access to resources. They also claim that the ability to own property as well as the ability to exercise political rights (say the right to vote) depends first and foremost on the ability of citizens to function effectively. When the basic human needs of citizens, for example food, are not being met, other rights become merely 'hypothetical and empty' (Sen 1999: 75). Following on from this basic reasoning, the rights approach to justice is rejected and, in its place, human basic need is seen as the correct basis of political morality and the right benchmark for the determination of political judgment (Plant 1991: 185). In previous sections we saw that libertarian notions of justice sanction unlimited material inequality between citizens, provided that each person has obtained their possessions through legitimate means. All that matters is that the state should ensure fair rules of transitions and equality before the law. We saw also that liberal accounts of justice, especially Rawls' liberal egalitarianism, reject this formula- tion of justice because it does not secure the welfare of the less able in society. On the contrary, Rawls recommends that political institutions should be structured in ways that protect the interests of the least advantaged individuals in society. Accordingly, he sanctions societal inequities provided that such inequities work to the advantage of the least well-off. On closer reading, however, it turns out that Rawls difference principle (that inequities should work in favour of the least well- off) does not contain any explicit demand relating to the basic needs of the poor. As such, it is possible for Rawls' proviso to be met even when the least well-off in the society are denied their basic needs. For example, a distribution that changes from 20:10:2 to 100:30:4 satisfies Rawls difference principle but tells us noth- ing about the actual well-being of the least well-off. So, whereas some (mainly libertarians) criticize Rawls for not specifying the extent to which other people's liberty can be sacrificed for the sake of the least well-off, others (proponents of justice as meeting need) criticize Rawls for leaving the fate of the least well-off unprotected. Many scholars in the latter group sometimes argue along Marxian lines that as long as the means of production remain in the hands of the 'haves' there is no guarantee that inequities will benefit the least well-off. Maslow (1968), Bradshaw (1972) and Forder (1974) have all consequently argued that only the theory of need provides, as Maslow (1968: 4) puts it, 'the ultimate appeal for the determination of the good, bad, right and wrong' in a po- litical community. Without the theory of need, they say, it would be impossible to justify the welfare state in capitalist Western democracies. On the other hand, the co-existence of welfare and capitalism confirms the place of need as the criterion of moral political judgment. O'Neill (1991), Sen (1999) and Nussbaum (2000) have all extended versions of this argument to the international domain. O'Neill (1980, 1991) argues that adherence to the Kantian categorical imperative entails that the global community must act to remove the aching poverty and famine that threaten the existence of millions of people in developing countries. Sen (1999), for his part, calls for the strengthening of international institutions to make them able to assist the least well in the global society to achieve the measure of actual living that is required for the basic function and well-being of citizens. For Sen, as for O'Neill, all forms of liberty and rights are meaningful only when people have the substantive 'freedom to achieve actual living' (Sen 1999: 73; cf. O'Neill 1989: 288; 1986). Thomas Pogge also places emphasis on human basic need and starts his well-known book World Poverty and Human Rights with the rhetorical ques- tion: 'How can severe poverty of half of humankind continue despite enormous economic and technological progress and despite the enlightened moral norms and values of our heavily dominant Western civilization?' (Pogge 2002: 3). Many environmentalists believe that this is the conception of justice most con- sistent with the Bnmdtland version of sustainable development (Dobson 1998; Benton 1999: 201; Langhelle 2000: 299). This assertion is not difficult to sustain because the Bnmdtland Report contains several explicit arguments that firmly link the concept of sustainability with meeting the needs of the global population. It says, for example: The satisfaction of human needs and aspirations is the major objective of sustainable development. The essential needs of vast numbers in the develop- ing countries - for food, clothing, shelter, jobs - are not being met, and be- yond their basic needs, these people have legitimate aspirations for improved quality of life .... Sustainable development requires meeting basic needs of all and extending to all the opportunity to satisfy their aspirations for a better life. (WCED 1987: 43).
Outweighs:
Arbitrariness – It’s morally arbitrary to hold people responsible for what they can’t change. Treating poor people differently than others is thus morally arbitrary, destroying the foundations of a theory.
Thus the standard is maximizing expected well being
Human Rights Council
Police brutality is the largest cause of a decline in US cred on human rights – the UN Human Rights Council has smashed the US for it
Sheriff 15 - Natasja Sheriff, independent journalist and a visiting scholar at the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute: May 11, 2015(“US cited for police violence, racism in scathing UN review on human rights” Al Jazeera Available at http://america.aljazeera.com/articles/2015/5/11/us-faces-scathing-un-review-on-human-rights-record.html Accessed on 10/27/16)IG
The United States was slammed over its rights record Monday at the United Nations’ Human Rights Council, with member nations criticizing the country for police violence and racial discrimination, the Guantánamo Bay Detention Facility and the continued use of the death penalty.
The issue of racism and police brutality dominated the discussion on Monday during the country’s second universal periodic review (UPR). Country after country recommended that the U.S. strengthen legislation and expand training to eliminate racism and excessive use of force by law enforcement.
"I'm not surprised that the world's eyes are focused on police issues in the U.S.," said Alba Morales, who investigates the U.S. criminal justice system at Human Rights Watch.
"There is an international spotlight that's been shone on the issues, in large part due to the events in Ferguson and the disproportionate police response to even peaceful protesters," she said.
Anticipating the comments to come, James Cadogan, a senior counselor to the U.S. assistant attorney general, told delegates gathered in Geneva, "The tragic deaths of Freddie Gray in Baltimore, Michael Brown in Missouri, Eric Garner in New York, Tamir Rice in Ohio and Walter Scott in South Carolina have renewed a long-standing and critical national debate about the even-handed administration of justice. These events challenge us to do better and to work harder for progress — through both dialogue and action."
All of the names he mentioned are black men or boys who were killed by police officers or died shortly after being arrested. The events have sparked widespread anger and unrest over the past year.
Cadogan added that the Department of Justice has opened more than 20 investigations in the last six years — including an investigation into the Baltimore Police Department — as well as the release of a report of the Presidential Task Force on 21st Century Policing in March, which included more than 60 recommendations.
But advocates like Morales say the U.S. could do much more.
"Use of excessive force by police was a major part of this year's UPR, and the fact that we still don't have a reliable national figure to know how many people are killed by police or what the racial breakdown is of those people is a travesty," she said. "A nation as advanced as the U.S. should be able to gather that number."
The Justice Department did not respond to requests for comment.
Although the problems are not new, the death of young men like Gray and Brown and the unrest that followed their killings in U.S. cities over the past year has attracted the attention — and criticism — of the international community.
"Chad considers the United States of America to be a country of freedom, but recent events targeting black sectors of society have tarnished its image," said Awada Angui of the U.N. delegation to Chad.
The U.S. responded to questions and recommendations from 117 countries during a three-and-a-half-hour session in Geneva on Monday morning, with the high level of participation leaving each country just 65 seconds to speak.
Among the various concerns raised by U.N. member states was the failure to close the Guantánamo Bay detention facility, the continued use of the death penalty, the need for adequate protections for migrant workers and protection of the rights of indigenous peoples.
Member states also called on the U.S. to end child labor, human trafficking and sexual violence against Native American and Alaska Native women and to lift restrictions on the use of foreign aid to provide safe abortion services for rape victims in conflict areas.
Pakistan, Russia, China and Turkey were among the most vociferous of the member states, with Russia informing the U.S. that "the human rights situation in the country has seriously deteriorated recently" before presenting seven recommendations to the U.S. delegation.
The Council can effectively create change but US leadership is key
Lagon 5/17 – Mark P. Lagon, Centennial Fellow and Distinguished Senior Scholar in the Walsh School of Foreign Service, Georgetown University: May 17, 2016(“A GLASS HALF FULL: WHY THE U.S. NEEDS TO BE ON THE U.N. HUMAN RIGHTS COUNCIL” Freedom House Available at https://freedomhouse.org/article/glass-half-full-why-us-needs-be-un-human-rights-council Accessed on 11/01/16)IG
Active membership in the Council by the U.S. has contributed to successes.  A resolution and rapporteur on Belarus were restored.
Moreover, I would never have thought ten years ago that a resolution devoted to Iran could be passed not only in New York but in Geneva.  The Human Rights Council resolution does not yet enumerate Iran’s human rights violations chapter and verse – as it should.  But it has sustained a Special Rapporteur when the international community (and candidly the United States) have let nuclear nonproliferation be a pretext for deprioritizing human rights in that country – both before and after a nuclear deal with Tehran.  Despite fears to the contrary, the Council once again extended the Iran mandate on March 23, 2016 by a 5 vote margin.  Today, the Council and the current Iran resolution remain important vehicles for the world to increase pressure on Iran to improve its human rights record.
While the Security Council has been all too inert on the atrocities of Assad in Syria, allowing ISIS to grow as a second source of atrocities, the Human Rights Council has repeatedly devoted its attention to those calamities.  On August 22, 2011, the Council established a Commission of Inquiry on Syria which found that the Syrian government is responsible for violations that amount to crimes against humanity. Since then, the UNHRC has held over 20 sessions on Syria and adopted no less than 17 resolutions.
The Human Rights Council was pretty feckless in calling attention to human rights abuses in Sri Lanka in the period when the United States refused to run to be a Member.  After the United States got on, there was a pronounced shift in the substance of resolutions adopted on Sri Lanka, making clear the international community’s demand for accountability for mass atrocities committed during the civil war.   Sri Lanka is making some progress. It is one ray of hope in Freedom House’s Freedom of the World survey, which shows ten straight years of a global recession of democracy, notably in freedom of expression, freedom of association, and rule of law.
Most striking was the Commission of Inquiry launched by the Council to investigate North Korea’s atrocities.  No single multilateral mandate or report on human rights has changed the terms of debate on a neglected human rights issue than this Commission headed by Australian jurist Michael Kirby.  No mandate devoted to atrocities-level abuse has treated a case where open warfare has not existed for decades.  And yet, so powerful were the Commission’s findings that China and Russia could not block North Korea’s human rights situation from being added to the U.N. Security Council’s standing agenda.
Less striking, but highly important, was action on Eritrea – a country all but forgotten, and of little strategic importance, yet so repressive that in 2014, some 6 percent of its population fled to seek asylum. In July 2012, the Council appointed a Special Rapporteur to shine a light onto widespread human rights violations. On June 27, 2014, the Council established a Commission of Inquiry to investigate these gross and systematic abuses, with a particular focus on documenting crimes against humanity.
The United States helped make the numerous Council assessments of Israel’s conduct in Gaza and in the humanitarian flotilla controversy fairer.  The United States may not fix the quantitative volume and qualitative tilt of the Council’s treatment of Israel, but its presence has been helpful.  And at a minimum, the United States using its voice and vote means that excessive criticism of Israel is not answered with silence.
THEMATIC WORK
In a second area, the thematic work of the Human Rights Council has improved, and been ameliorated by U.S. leadership.  Let’s take a few examples.
First, the United States helped turn around a perverse set of resolutions on defamation of religion which gave states in Islamic-majority nations cover in order to use blasphemy laws to sideline and repress freedom of religion and of expression in the name of anti-defamation.  Those resolutions always have represented a latent threat for creation of a broader UN Declaration or Convention codifying their pernicious provisions.  In 2011, the United States, working with a cross-regional group of partners, engaged the Organization of Islamic Cooperation to end-run intransigent, longstanding ambassadors in Geneva. The result was a new consensus framework on combatting religious intolerance, resting on the pillars of defending freedom of expression and veritable freedom of all religions. That victory is precarious and is already vulnerable.  As the single most pronounced voice for freedom of conscience and expression in the international community, the U.S. should be on the Council.i
Second, a much-needed mandate was created for Freedom of Assembly and Association, in large part because of U.S. leadership.  At a time when autocracies and ostensible democracies worldwide are squeezing civil society groups and demonizing them for getting international advice and backing, this mandate is essential.  We know the Rapporteur well.  Kenyan Maina Kiai happens to have won the Freedom Award at the annual dinner where I was named to become Freedom House’s President.  As Special Rapporteur, he embodies the UN’s thematic work on human rights at its most energetic and effective.
I have said in my book Human Dignity and the Future of Global Institutions that multilateral measures on economic and social aspirations are not inherently less important than the political and civil liberties Freedom House champions.  Yet the Human Rights Council does dignify a number of matters that no serious person could claim are really human rights.  The number of mandates for economic, social, and cultural rights have grown, even while the U.S. has been on the Council as a voice of reason.  Without the U.S. there, there would be even more silly mandates, like treating the real problem of toxic waste as a human rights matter.  And those efforts which have proven constructive, like the Council resolution on business and human rights springing from the work of John Ruggie as Special Representative, would be in danger of being taken in the wrong direction, which bears watching as Ecuador and others seek a related treaty.
UNIVERSAL PERIODIC REVIEW
A third area relates to peer review.  The most distinctive innovation of the negotiation I took part in to create the Council is the Universal Periodic Review (UPR).  It meant all nations, including some heinous, human rights-abusing states managing to get on the Council would be subject to regular scrutiny. Some of us feared the UPR would be a pretext for winnowing the number of country-specific resolutions and rapporteurs, but they have been sustained, especially when the U.S. has been a Council Member.
The UPR gives an opportunity for civil society groups to shine a light of accountability on their states.  The largest part of Freedom House’s work, our true comparative advantage, is capacity-building and emergency assistance to civil society organizations in all regions of the world.  We see how the UPR helps our local civil society partners assert their voice in an organized, focused and coordinated manner, which is why we support these frontline activists to engage directly in the UPR process, including appearing in Geneva and producing shadow reports. At its best, governments are adopting the practice of formally consulting with civil society, a good example being Mali, where the government arranged meetings between ministerial departments and representatives of civil society, and where the Ministry of Justice established a working group to prepare the UPR report. In more restrictive environments, civil society and even the media have the option of discussing UPR recommendations at one step removed: rather than themselves raising issues directly, they can report on recommendations raised by the international community.  According to a 2014 report of the civil society organization UPR Info, 48 percent of UPR recommendations triggered action (partially or fully implemented) within two and a half years, and 19 percent of recommendations that were not accepted but merely “noted” still resulted in action.
The UPR is not an unvarnished success.ii  It offers an opportunity to raise human rights issues in any nation every four years, makes recommendations to states, and those states in turn make commitments to address some of the recommendations.  Yet in a decade, with nations now getting repeatedly assessed, it is not clear to me that there is sufficient onus on states to live up to even the recommendations they agree to meet, much less those they do not.  This is one reason Freedom House helps civil society actors, like some from Venezuela, to present their case to the expert bodies assigned to assess how much parties to UN human rights conventions fulfill their commitments, because these treaty bodies have more impact than the UPR.
The United States is empirically the most vocal participant in the UPR dialogue with states under examination.  The UPR will be stronger over time for U.S. involvement in the Council.
Rights violations effect billions
CFR 13 - Council on Foreign Relations: June 19, 2013 (“The Global Human Rights Regime” From the multimedia Global Governance Monitor of the International Institutions and Global Governance program Available at http://www.cfr.org/human-rights/global-human-rights-regime/p27450#p1 Accessed on 10/27/16) IG
Although the concept of human rights is abstract, how it is applied has a direct and enormous impact on daily life worldwide. Millions have suffered crimes against humanity. Millions more toil in bonded labor. In the last decade alone, authoritarian rule has denied civil and political liberties to billions. The idea of human rights has a long history, but only in the past century has the international community sought to galvanize a regime to promote and guard them. Particularly, since the United Nations (UN) was established in 1945, world leaders have cooperated to codify human rights in a universally recognized regime of treaties, institutions, and norms.
An elaborate global system is being developed. Governments are striving to promote human rights domestically and abroad, and are partnering with multilateral institutions to do so. A particularly dynamic and decentralized network of civil-society actors is also involved in the effort.
Together, these players have achieved marked success, though the institutionalization and implementation of different rights is progressing at varying rates. Response to mass atrocities has seen the greatest progress, even if enforcement remains inconsistent. The imperative to provide people with adequate public health care is strongly embedded across the globe, and substantial resources have been devoted to the challenge. The right to freedom from slavery and forced labor has also been integrated into international and national institutions, and has benefited from high-profile pressure to combat forced labor. Finally, the steady accumulation of human-rights-related conventions has encouraged most states to do more to implement binding legislation in their constitutions and statutes.
Qualified immunity leads to circumvention of rights and propagates police brutality – denying it as a defense solves
Johnson 15 – Tabitha Johnson, : 2015(“QUALIFIED IMMUNITY OR JUSTIFIED BRUTALITY?: AN EXAMINATION OF THE QUALIFIED IMMUNITY DOCTRINE IN PETERSON V. KOPP” Tennessee Journal of Race, Gender, and Social Justice, Vol. 4:2 p.265-267 Accessed on 11/04/16)IG
The Eighth Circuit then addressed Peterson’s excessive force claim.43 During his arrest, Peterson contended that Kopp used excessive force, thus violating Peterson’s Fourth Amendment right “to be free from unreasonable seizures.”44 In determining whether Kopp used excessive force in Peterson’s arrest, the court used an “objective reasonableness” test.45 The Eighth Circuit explained that this test took into account that an officer’s actions “must be judged from the perspective of a reasonable officer on the scene, rather than with the 20/20 vision of hindsight.”46 In determining whether an officer’s actions in pursuing an arrest were reasonable, the Eighth Circuit evaluated “the severity of the crime at issue, whether the suspect poses an immediate threat to the safety of the officers or others, and whether the suspect is actively resisting arrest or attempting to evade arrest by flight.”47 The court concluded that Peterson’s purported crime was not severe, he was not posing a threat to others, nor was he fleeing.48 As Peterson’s disobedience was passive and non-threatening to others, Kopp’s infliction of physical force onto Peterson was deemed excessive.49
While Kopp’s arrest failed the excessive force test, the Eighth Circuit held that Kopp was entitled to qualified immunity because Peterson’s injuries sustained from the altercation with Kopp were de minimis.50 The injuries were de minimis because Peterson “did not seek medical care and his injuries resolved themselves without medical intervention.”51 To support its conclusion, the court provided a wealth of similar cases for comparison.52 The court further noted that a recent decision changed the law regarding the applicability of qualified immunity for de minimis injuries; however, the court also clarified that it rendered the ruling after the altercation between Kopp and Peterson.53 Therefore, Kopp was reasonable in assuming that, as long as the injuries he inflicted upon Peterson were de minimis, he would remain entitled to qualified immunity as his actions were “constitutionally permissible” at the time.54
Lastly, the Eighth Circuit addressed Peterson’s two retaliation claims.55 Peterson alleged that Kopp both pepper sprayed and arrested him for participating in a constitutionally protected activity.56 In determining whether Kopp acted in retaliation, the court determined that Peterson must show that “he engaged in a protected activity,” that “the government official took adverse action against him that would chill a person of ordinary firmness from continuing in the activity,” and that “the adverse action was motivated at least in part by the exercise of the protected activity.”57 The Eighth Circuit consolidated the three prongs of the test by stating that a plaintiff need only show that “he was ‘singled out because of his exercise of constitutional rights’” in order to prevail on a retaliation claim.58 The court further implemented a fourth prong to this traditional test.59 To satisfy the test, Peterson would also need to prove a “lack of probable cause or a lack of arguable probable cause.”60
The Eighth Circuit first applied the aforementioned test to Peterson’s claim of retaliatory arrest.61 In applying this four-prong test, the Eighth Circuit held that “Kopp was entitled to qualified immunity on Peterson’s retaliatory arrest claim because, as detailed above, Kopp had at least arguable probable cause for the arrest,” as exemplified through his actions prior to his arrest.62
The Eighth Circuit then evaluated Peterson’s claim of being pepper sprayed out of retaliation.63 The court determined that Peterson presented enough evidence to prove that Kopp pepper sprayed him out of retaliation. 64 In reaching its conclusion, the Eighth Circuit noted that it was significant to Peterson’s contention that, shortly before being pepper sprayed, Peterson demanded Kopp’s badge number.65 This—along with Kopp’s outright refusal to provide Peterson with the requested information—justified the court’s decision to remand the issue.66 The court ultimately held that “a reasonable jury could conclude . . . that Kopp pepper sprayed Peterson in retaliation for asking for his badge number, and Peterson’s First Amendment right was clearly established at the time of the incident.”67 For these reasons, the Eighth Circuit remanded the retaliatory force claim for further review.
IV. CONCLUSION
Despite its arrival during a tumultuous era for civilian rights, Peterson does not stray from the majority of its precedents regarding the evaluation of qualified immunity. Peterson’s claims of wrongful arrest, retaliatory arrest, and excessive force all proved futile under the Eighth Circuit’s application of qualified immunity, while Peterson’s claim of retaliatory force has been remanded for further examination. It is clear from the holdings in Peterson that the doctrine of qualified immunity still reigns supreme in cases of purported police brutality. Unless there is a reevaluation of the doctrine on a fundamental and moral level, Peterson will provide precedent for further police brutality cases.
Miltary Urbanism
Immunity protects police surveillance- erodes fundamental journalist rights
Marvel 11 (Bill Marvel, journalist at Dallas Morning News, 11-04-2011,  "Bill Marvel: The illegal assault on photographers," http://www.dallasnews.com/opinion/commentary/2011/11/04/bill-marvel-the-illegal-assault-on-photographers)
In the absence of specific laws, Manning writes, police are harassing photographers under local ordinances against “loitering, disorderly conduct, assault, obstruction of justice, failure to obey police orders, disturbing the peace, provoking a riot and resisting a police officer.”
Although courts have consistently ruled in favor of the photographer in such encounters, police are slow to get the news.
The Long Beach, Calif., chief of police has warned that his department will arrest anyone taking pictures “with no apparent aesthetic value,” thus adding art criticism to the duties of his officers. (According to a Dallas Police Department spokesperson, citizens here can take pictures anywhere their presence is legal. Farmers Branch, where Allison Smith was forbidden to photograph the water tower, has no policy against photography, says a department spokesperson.)
But if you lose your camera, film or memory card and spend a couple of hours in jail, Manning says, few real remedies are available. You can sue. But as public servants, police enjoy qualified immunity. “Unless they’ve done something pretty egregious, there’s little you can do.”
“And without meaningful remedies, the right to take pictures in public places will further erode.”
To halt that erosion, Manning would like to see citizens more aware of their rights. Violations of those rights should be widely publicized. Lawyers should challenge the few existing statutes and ordinances against photography. And civil rights legislation should be expanded to cover photography.
Bert Krages’ pamphlet The Photographer’s Right recommends that when stopped or threatened by law officers, photographers ask on what basis they are being stopped and if they are free to go. Above all, he says, remain calm and courteous, advice most professional photographers echo.
That’s good advice for anyone who carries a camera.
“People are talking about photographers’ rights,” says Scott Martin, a San Antonio photographer who had a tense encounter with heavily armed military police on a San Diego sidewalk. “It’s not just photographers. Everyone’s a photographer in the United States. We’re all snapping pictures.”
Yes, spies carry cameras. So does everyone else these days. There are a million eyes out there. Without our cameras, most of us would have to depend on postcards or our memories for views of the Golden Gate Bridge or the Denver skyline or the eye-catching symmetry of a new courthouse or an oil refinery. Family snapshots of loved ones departing at the airport or train station would not exist.
Without the witness of the camera, we would not have Lewis Hine’s moving images of the poor and powerless in turn-of-the-century America. We would not have Walker Evans’ or Dorothea Lange’s testament to the ravages of the Great Depression. The savage beating of Rodney King by Los Angeles police would have gone undocumented. The civil rights struggle of the 1950s and ’60s would exist only in fading memories.
The attack on Americans’ rights to take photographs and make videos is no less than an assault on our right to observe, to see things for ourselves, to keep an eye on authorities, to record, to report, to protest. The War Against the Camera undermines our freedom as surely as an airplane flown into a high-rise or a bomb left on a street corner. The irony is that this right is being challenged by the very authorities we depend on to protect our rights.
A grey area for erosion of civil rights is created by qualified immunity – it uses unclear law to prevent rulings from ever taking place on those issues
Black 91 (H. Allen Black, Order of the Coif, teaching assistant and member of the William and Mary Law Review, March 1991, "Balance, Band-Aid, or Tourniquet: The Illusion OofQualified Immunity for Federal Officials", William and Mary Law Review, Volume 32 | Issue 3 Article 5, http://scholarship.law.wm.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1937andcontext=wmlr)
In the context of a civil suit, however, the qualified immunity doctrine sets up a Catch-22 situation. The law is not clearly established, so qualified immunity protects the official's actions. The law remains unclear because the case is resolved through the immunity defense and the courts never determine the law. The immunity doctrine thus freezes constitutional law in the civil context, leaving its clarification almost exclusively to the criminal context.220 The resulting chilling effect on constitutional law is clearly contrary to the wisdom Thomas Jefferson expressed when he wrote that "no society can make a perpetual constitution, or even a perpetual law. The earth belongs always to the living generation."221 The qualified immunity doctrine thus poses an added danger in that it may greatly restrict the protection of constitutional rights.2 Anderson v. Creighton provides a vivid example of how the doctrine freezes constitutional law and exposes citizens to greater police latitude. Because the Court resolved Anderson by summary judgment without reaching the principal issue of whether exigent circumstances justified the search of the Creighton residence, the Court did not clearly establish the constitutional law with regard to exigent circumstances in similar situations. The qualified immunity standard thus denied not only satisfaction of the Creightons' rights, but also clear guidance to well-meaning law enforcement officers who may find themselves in the same situation as Anderson. Dissenting in Anderson, Justice Stevens wrote, "I see no reason why the family's interest in the security of its own home should be accorded a lesser weight than the Government's interest in carrying out an invasion that was unlawful."
The resulting surveillance of social movements has created a dangerous chilling effect---forcing unwarranted precaution and conservatism on the part of the activist---reducing the movement to a series of moral badges.
Starr et al. 08 - Amory Starr, Professor of Sociology at Chapman University, Luis A. Fernandez, NAU Department of Criminology and Criminal Justice at Northern Arizona University, Randall Amster, Peach Studies and Social Thought at Prescott College, Lesley J. Wood, Department of Sociology at York University, Manuel J. Caro, Centro Norteamericano de Estudios Interculturales at C/ Harinas, July 10, 2008, “The Impacts of State Surveillance on Political Assembly and Association: A Socio-Legal Analysis”, Qual Sociol (2008) 31:251–270, AJX
As we have shown, current surveillance is an alarming threat to mobilizations (constitutionally protected assemblies) and social movement organizations (protected associations). Our findings about the post-Seattle era are consistent with studies of previous eras (Marx 1970, 1974, 1979, 1988, 1992; Flam 1998; Churchill and VanderWall 1990, 2002; Donner 1980, 1990; Schultz and Schultz 1989, 2001; Powers 1987; Cunningham 2004; Davenport 2005, 2006; Boykoff 2006) with the enhancements of technology and influenced by the current popular leniency for policing and criminalization. Readers may be surprised by the broad based nature of current surveillance and by the inclusion of pacifist organizations among targets. However, as Cunningham (2004) has documented, the lack of criminal standard or test is nothing new. And Donner (1990) traces the recent history of “terrorist” accusations against pacifist organizations to the early 1980s targeting of antinuclear, anti-death penalty, and Latin American solidarity organizations by local police, as well as federal agencies. Disruptive counterinsurgent activity against organizations which have not met a criminal standard was officially forsworn with the closure of COINTELPRO. Yet these same acts are now undertaken by a network of law enforcement organizations.
We are concerned by social movement organizations’ persistent attempt to rationalize surveillance and repression. Rather than opposing government repression, too many organizations work to reinforce a hard line between legal and illegal political activities (a distinction also claimed by the organizations who refused interviews on these grounds), expending extensive resources in “careful wording” which they believe will keep them safe. This conceptual framework simply does not correspond with scholarship on surveillance, which documents a long and continuing history of targeting of non-criminal organizations on the basis of their political ideas. Lack of clarity about who is targeted for surveillance has led to a rationalization of repression, taking the form of blaming young people for their repression (particularly for “provoking” police actions at protests); and little support for “Green Scare” defendants and others facing illegal investigations, “terrorist” indictments, absurd bonds, and decades-long sentences for non-violent political activities. Rationalization collaborates with the creeping criminalization of dissent and political activity.
As shown above, the impacts of surveillance on associations included: fundraising, relations with members, reputation and connections with allies, redirection of agendas, displacement of strategic framing, and foreclosure of space for civil disobedience. Interviewees’ quantification of activists who have dropped out due to surveillance was striking. Moreover, rather than finding the customary dualism in which hardcore activists become more militant while others become more moderate. (Lichbach 1995; White 1989; Tarrow 1998; Zwerman and Steinhoff 2005) we found signs of pervasive pacification. In lieu of going “underground” to continue their actions (Davenport 2006; Johnston 2005; Zwerman et al. 2000), organizations are abandoning “grey area” civil disobedience activities and moving toward doing exclusively educational and permitted activities. Yet, knowing that even educational events are under surveillance, organizations do not feel safe even undertaking this most pacific type of action, increasing the risk and burden on groups wishing to participate in democratic dialogue. We heard reports from all types of groups that strategic and ideological dialogue has been both reduced and self-censored.
We were most alarmed to find security culture displacing organizing culture in most groups, including peace groups, pacifist groups, and other groups who only do legal  activities. Activists concerned about creeping criminalization of grey and formerly legal activity take extreme precautions, foregoing inclusivity and destroying all written records of their work. Groups also reported not taking notes at meetings. “We’re afraid to have a piece of paper with anything written on it at the end of any meeting.” Many interviewees, having internalized suspicion of undercovers, said that they don’t want to be seen writing anything down, as it would make them look as if they are surveilling the meeting. Moreover, concerned about future investigations, they do not keep diaries. This lack of archiving is the destruction in advance of the history of the movement, with implications for social movements’ capacity for active reflexivity. Moreover, affiliations become more temporary and less committed, with the result that “I’ve noticed a big shift from long-term strategizing and community building.” Conservative decisions on the part of activists and organizations are understandable in light of the costs of surveillance to organizational resources. The government provides no administrative mechanisms of accountability for false accusations, improper or unwarranted investigations, or erroneous surveillance. One organization that was illegally searched spent more than 1500 hours of volunteer time dealing with the fallout for their membership and relations with other organizations. Their lawsuit for damages took 5 years to resolve. Of the 71 organizations in our study, only two had managed to take legal action regarding surveillance. Our findings indicate that the harm suffered by political organizations and individuals as a result of widespread surveillance,  infiltration, and documentation, is legally cognizable and not at all speculative (cf. ACLU-NCA 2005), suggesting that legal standing can be established to overcome the burdens raised by the case of Laird v. Tatum, 408 US 1 (1972). Based on our reading of Cunningham (2004) and our data, we conclude that much current law enforcement surveillance is more properly conceptualized as counterinsurgency. The implementation of counterinsurgency (whose destructiveness is well-established) against a social movement (whose agenda is well known to be noncriminal) violates the fundamental protections of the First Amendment (which is the foundation of a democratic society, variously conceptualized as a marketplace of ideas, a context of free debate and dissent, or self-governance).
Our socio-legal analysis encourages a shift in the unit of analysis and litigation from individual activists and organizations to the context of diverse associational activities which make assembly possible: the social movement. If a social movement could gain standing as a class, it could include event participants who are not members of an organization, as well as dissenters who may have never taken action because of anticipatory conformity. The concept of social movements can bind overt repression, indirect interference (with fundraising, networks, etc.), and intimidating chilling effects. We also point to the need for a legal concept which could provide the basis for complaints regarding violations of the rights of political organizations and movements. Melucci emphasizes “collective action as a social production, as a purposive, meaningful and relational orientation” (1996, p. 386). Associational life depends on membership, donations, and access to space in which people feel comfortable engaging political ideas. Assaults on organizations that deprive them of resources and democratic space, and which burden potential participants with excessive risk amount to what are understood on an individual level as assault or excessive use of force. If private enterprise is protected by tort law from libel, denial of service, interference with customer access to premises, (tortious interference), then nonprofit organizations and civil society groups should also be protected from interference with advantageous relationships that affect their resources, capacity to mobilize them, and opportunity to compete in the marketplace of ideas.
The impact is endless warfare---the security state has resulted in a new politics of military urbanism that extends warfare into the battlespace, with no beginning or end, and where everyone is a target.
Graham 12, Professor of Cities and Society at Newcastle University, January 2012, “When Life Itself is War: On the Urbanization of Military and Security Doctrine,” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, Volume 36.1, pgs. 136 - 155
The first key feature of the new military urbanism is the way it normalizes new imaginations of political violence and a whole spectrum of ambient threats to 'security' which centre on the everyday sites, spaces, populations and circulations of cities. As part of the defence of what Julian Reid calls 'logistical societies' societies where biopolitical threats emerge from the very central systems, flows and networks sustaining contemporary urban life — warfare within liberal modernity increasingly centres on securitizing and targeting the prosaic architectures and circulations of the city (see Reid, 2006; Dillon and Reid, 2009).
Driving the military targeting of the everyday sites, circulations and processes of urban life across the world is a new constellation of military doctrine and theory. In this, the spectre of state versus state military conflict is seen to be in radical retreat. Instead, the new doctrine is centred upon the idea that a wide spectrum of global insurgencies now operates across social, technical, political, cultural and financial networks, straddling transnational scales. These are deemed to provide existential threats to Western societies through themselves targeting or exploiting everyday urban sites, infrastructures and control technologies that sustain contemporary cities. Such lurking threats are deemed by security and military theorists to camouflage themselves within the 'clutter' of cities at home and abroad for concealment against traditional forms of military targeting. This, the argument goes, necessitates a radical ratcheting up of techniques of tracking, surveillance and targeting centred on both the architectures of circulation and mobility — infrastructures — and the spaces of everyday urban life.
The key concept driving the current 'transformation' in military thinking and practice is the shift from 'battlefield' to 'battlespace'. This concept is crucial because it basically sustains what Phil Agre (2001) has called 'a conception of military matters that includes absolutely everything'. Nothing lies outside the multidimensional and multiscale concept of battlespace, temporally or geographically. Battlespace has no front and no back, no start and no end; it is 'deep, high, wide, and simultaneous: there is no longer a front or a rear' (Blackmore, 2005). The concept of battlespace thus encompasses everything from the molecular scales of genetic engineering and nanotechnology, through the everyday sites, spaces and experiences of city life, to the planetary spheres of inner and outer space or the internet's globe-straddling 'cyberspace'. The focus of mobilization is thus no longer focused within delimited geographical or temporal spaces of 'symmetrical' state versus state warfare. Instead, it becomes increasingly unbound in time and space. Thus, state power seeks to target 'asymmetric' non-state forces and movements to the point where contemporary 'warfare' becomes effectively 'coterminous ... with the space of civil society itself' (Dillon and Reid, 2009: 128).
With wars and battle no longer declared or finished, temporalities of war threaten to extend indefinitely. 'War is back and seemingly forever' (Deer, 2007: l). No wonder Pentagon gurus convinced George Bush to replace the idea of the 'war on terror' with the new 'big idea' of the 'long war' in 2004 (McIntyre, 2004). All too easily, such a discourse slips into a world where life itself is war (Agre, 2001). Indeed, many military theorists now speak of a new (fourth) generation of asymmetric warfare in which nothing is ever outside the 'battlespace' (for a good example, see Hammes, 2006). This new 'generation' of war is based, they argue, on 'unconventional' wars, 'asymmetric' struggles, 'global insurgencies' and 'low intensity conflicts', which pit high-tech state militaries against informal fighters or mobilized civilians. Military theorist Thomas Hammes (2006:3) for example argues that, in the twenty-first century, so-called 'fourth generation' warfare will dominate global security politics, rooted in the concept that 'superior political will, when properly employed, can defeat greater economic and military power'. Using such doctrine, US commanders in Baghdad have emphasized the need to coordinate the entire 'battlespace' of the city, addressing civilian infrastructure, the shattered economy and cultural awareness, as well as 'the controlled application of violence' , in order to try and secure the city (Chiarelli and Michaelis, 2005).
Intrinsically anti-urban, such paradigms quickly transpose the prosaic social acts that together forge cosmopolitan urban life into existential societal threats. For example, US military theorist William Lind, radically extending the US 'culture wars' debates of the 1980s and 1990s, and swallowing whole Samuel Huntingdon's (1998) 'clash of civilizations' binary, has even argued that acts of urban immigration must now be understood as acts of 'warfare'. 'In Fourth Generation war', writes Lind (2004), 'invasion by immigration can be at least as dangerous as invasion by a state army'. Under what he calls the 'poisonous ideology of multiculturalism', Lind (ibid.) argues that immigrants within Western nations can now launch 'a homegrown variety of Fourth Generation war, which is by far the most dangerous kind'.
Here we confront the realities of what the Center for Immigration Studies has called the 'weaponization' of immigration (Cato, 2008). Such new imaginations of warfare provide a powerful example of what happens when all aspects of human life are rendered as nothing but war; nations are imagined in narrow ethno-nationalist ways and diasporic cities emerge as mere cultural pollutants (See Cowen, 2007). 'The road from national genus to a totalized cosmology of the sacred nation' , writes Arjun Appadurai (2006: 4), 'and further to ethnic purity and cleansing, is relatively direct'.
Crucially, the emerging body of urban military doctrine thus works to radically blur the traditional separation of peace and war, military and civil spheres, local and global scales, and the 'inside' and 'outside' of nations. On the one hand, then, a wide variety of Western military theorists now concur that that 'modern urban combat operations will become one of the primary challenges of the 21 st century' (DIRC, 1997: 11). As US theorist of urban warfare Keith Dickson (2002: 4) puts it, the increasing perception within Western militaries is that 'for Western military forces, asymmetric warfare in urban areas will be the greatest challenge of this century ... The city will be the strategic high ground — whoever controls it will dictate the course of future events in the world'.
On the other hand, the US military's search for new doctrines to deal with the perceived urbanization of war, organized violence and security explicitly recognizes the similarities when dealing with 'urbanized terrain' at home and abroad. Whilst the various warlords, gangs, militias and insurgents operating throughout the burgeoning informal urban areas of the global South (see Souza, 2009) are widely imagined by Western military theorists to represent the key military challenges of the twenty-first century, dense labyrinthine cities everywhere — both at home and abroad — are imagined together as key future battlespaces. 'Despite the geographic differences' , writes Maryann Lawlor (2007) in the military magazine Signal, key personnel at the US Joint Forces Command (JFCOM) in Norfolk, Virginia have engaged in massive war games and simulations (such as the exercise named 'Urban Resolve'), and in so doing 'identified several key concerns common to both areas'. These involve the difficulty of separating 'terrorists' or 'insurgents' from the urban civilian population; the high densities of infrastructure; the way cities interrupt old-style military surveillance and targeting systems; and the complex three-dimensional nature of urban battlespace.
Through such an analytical lens, the LA riots of 1992, various attempts to securitize urban cores for major sports events or political summits, the militarized responses to Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans in 2005, and the challenges of 'homeland security' in US cities, have all blurred together to be perceived as 'urban ' or 'low-intensity' operations or moments of 'irregular warfare' , in common with episodes of counterinsurgency warfare taking place on the streets of Baghdad (see Boyle, 2005). Indeed, the paradigms underpinning the new military urbanism allow transnational social movements and mobilizations against state oppression or the devastating effects of market fundamentalism, ecological crises and neoliberalization — for example, the Zapatistas or environmental and global justice campaigners — to be tackled as forms of 'netwar', equivalent to the radical and murderous Islamism of Al Qaeda (see Arquilla and Ronfeldt, 2001). Post-operational 'lessons learned' reports drawn up after military deployments to contain the Los Angeles riots in 1992, credited 'the "success" of the mission to the fact that "the enemy" — the local population — was easy to outmaneuver given their simple battle tactics and strategies' (cited in Cowen, 2007: 1).
Finally, the US military's focus on military operations within the domestic urban sphere of the 'homeland' has strengthened dramatically since the start of the so-called 'war on terror' (see Canestaro, 2003). This process allows the US military to overcome traditional legal obstacles to deployment in the US itself (Canestaro, 2003). It allows the tactics and lessons of planning and designing 'Green Zone' urban bases in the hearts of Baghdad and other cities to be imported domestically as the template for implanting analogous 'security zones' around financial and government districts in New York and other major US cities (see Nemeth, 2009). Finally, it means that high-tech targeting practices employing unmanned drones and organized satellite surveillance programmes, previously limited to the permanent targeting of spaces beyond the nation's boundaries to (purportedly) make the nation safe, are also starting to colonize the domestic urban spaces of the nation (see Gorman, 2008).
Significantly, the emergence of the new military urbanism works to compound longstanding trends towards punitive criminology and revanchist urban policy that have marked processes of urban neoliberalization in many Western and global South nations (see Smith, 2002; Wacquant, 2008). The US response to the devastation of the largely African-American city of New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina in November 1995 provides a paradigmatic example (Graham, 2006). For a brief period, some US Army officers articulated their highly militarized responses to the Katrina disaster in New Orleans as an attempt to 'take back' New Orleans from African-American 'insurgencies' (Chiarelli and Michaelis, 2005). In this case, rather than a massive humanitarian response treating the victims as citizens requiring immediate help, a largely military operation was (eventually) organized. Such a response merely reinforced the idea that the internal geographies of the US are the sites of state-backed wars against racialized and biopolitically disposable others as much as external actors (Giroux, 2006). This operation treated those abandoned in the central city as a threat and a military objective to be contained, targeted and addressed in order to protect the property of the normalized and largely white suburban and exurban populations who had escaped in their own cars (Giroux, 2006). In the process, African-American citizens of the city were rendered refugees in their own country. As Robert Stam and Ella Shohat (2007: 167) argue, 'Katrina not only ripped the roofs off Gulf Coast houses but also ripped the fagade off "the national security state
Together, these blurring processes thus sustain the imagination of all cities everywhere as key battlespaces requiring permanent targeting and mobilization within limitless imaginations of war. In the process, they threaten to fundamentally challenge accepted notions of citizenship, law and the distinction between a liberal 'inside' of the nation, controlled through policing, and an illiberal 'outside' where a nation's military forces are deployed (Bigo and Anastassia, 2006; Cowen and Smith, 2009). Instead of such (inevitably precarious and contradictory) binaries, we are rapidly moving towards a context where, as Jeremy Packer (2006: 378) puts it, 'citizens and non-citizens alike are now treated as an always present threat. In this sense, all are imagined as combatants and all terrain the site of battle'. The proliferation of anticipatory profiling and targeting systems, as we shall see in the next section, increasingly uses computer algorithms to define deviance, and hence threat, from the mass circulations and populations of the city, in advance of civil or criminal offences being proven (see Amoore, 2009).
Plan
The United States Federal Government should limit qualified immunity as a defense for police officers being tried in excessive force cases.
Wright 15 – Sam Wright, writer for Above the Law and public interest lawyer who has spent his career exclusively in nonprofits and government: November 03 2015(“Want to Fight Police Misconduct? Reform Qualified Immunity” Available at http://abovethelaw.com/2015/11/want-to-fight-police-misconduct-reform-qualified-immunity/ Accessed on 11/05/16)IG
Instead, police officers have recourse to the broad protections of the judicially established doctrine of qualified immunity. Under this doctrine, state actors are protected from suit even if they’ve violated the law by, say, using excessive force, or performing an unwarranted body cavity search — as long as their violation was not one of “clearly established law of which a reasonable officer would be aware.” In other words, if there’s not already a case where a court has held that an officer’s identical or near-identical conduct rose to the level of a constitutional violation, there’s a good chance that even an obviously malfeasant officer will avoid liability — will avoid accountability.
To bring about true accountability and change police behavior, this needs to change. And change should begin with an act of Congress rolling back qualified immunity. Removing the “clearly established” element of qualified immunity would be a good start — after all, shouldn’t it be enough to deviate from a basic standard of care, to engage in conduct that a reasonable officer would know is illegal, without having to show that that conduct’s illegality has already been clearly established in the courts?
Underview
Particularity is the best standard
PRICE ’98
(RICHARD PRICE is a former prof in the Department of Anthropology at Yale University. Later, he moved to Johns Hopkins University to found the Department of Anthropology, where he served three terms as chair. A decade of freelance teaching (University of Minnesota, Stanford University, Princeton University, University of Florida, Universidade Federal da Bahia), ensued. This article is co-authored with CHRISTIAN REUS-SMIT – Monash University – European Journal of International Relations Copyright © 1998 via SAGE Publications – http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/~courses/PoliticalScience/661B1/documents/PriceReusSmithCriticalInternatlTheoryConstructivism.pdf)
One of the central departures of critical international theory from positivism is the view that we cannot escape the interpretive moment. As George (1994: 24) argues, ‘the world is always an interpreted “thing”, and it is always interpreted in conditions of disagreement and conflict, to one degree or another’. For this reason, ‘there can be no common body of observational or tested data that we can turn to for a neutral, objective knowledge of the world. There can be no ultimate knowledge, for example, that actually corresponds to reality per se.’ This proposition has been endorsed wholeheartedly by constructivists, who are at pains to deny the possibility of making ‘Big-T’ Truth claims about the world and studiously avoid attributing such status to their findings. This having been said, after undertaking sustained empirical analyses of aspects of world politics constructivists do make ‘small-t’ truth claims about the subjects they have investigated. That is, they claim to have arrived at logical and empirically plausible interpretations of actions, events or processes, and they appeal to the weight of evidence to sustain such claims. While admitting that their claims are always contingent and partial interpretations of a complex world, Price (1995, 1997) claims that his genealogy provides the best account to date to make sense of anomalies surrounding the use of chemical weapons, and Reus-Smit (1997) claims that a culturalist perspective offers the best explanation of institutional differences between historical societies of states. Do such claims contradict the interpretive ethos of critical international theory? For two reasons, we argue that they do not. First, the interpretive ethos of critical international theory is driven, in large measure, by a normative rejection of totalizing discourses, of general theoretical frameworks that privilege certain perspectives over others. One searches constructivist scholarship in vain, though, for such discourses. With the possible exception of Wendt’s problematic flirtation with general systemic theory and professed commitment to ‘science’, constructivist research is at its best when and because it is question driven, with self-consciously contingent claims made specifically in relation to particular phenomena, at a particular time, based on particular evidence, and always open to alternative interpretations. Second, the rejection of totalizing discourses based on ‘big-T’ Truth claims does not foreclose the possibility, or even the inevitability, of making ‘small-t’ truth claims. In fact, we would argue that as soon as one observes and interacts in the world such claims are unavoidable, either as a person engaged in everyday life or as a scholar. As Nietzsche pointed out long ago, we cannot help putting forth truth claims about the world. The individual who does not cannot act, and the genuinely unhypocritical relativist who cannot struggles for something to say and write. In short, if constructivists are not advancing totalizing discourses, and if making ‘small-t’ truth claims is inevitable if one is to talk about how the world works, then it is no more likely that constructivism per se violates the interpretive ethos of critical international theory than does critical theory itself.

Tournament: Loyola | Round: 2 | Opponent: Harvard-Westlake AM | Judge: Adam Bistagne
Part one is nuclear exploitation and violence
Nuclear power exploits minority workers forced by economic necessity into early death.
Shrader-Frechette 12 Kristin Shrader-Frechette, O’Neill Family Endowed Professor, Department of Biological Sciences and Department of Philosophy, and also the director of the Center for Environmental Justice and Children’s Health, at the University of Notre Dame, “Nuclear Catastrophe, Disaster-Related Environmental Injustice, and Fukushima, Japan: Prima-Facie Evidence for a Japanese ‘‘Katrina’’” ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE Volume 5, Number 3, 2012
Prima-facie evidence likewise shows buraku nuclear workers are both EI and DREI victims. Internationally, nuclear workers are prominent EI victims because even without accidents, they are allowed to receive ionizingradiation doses (50 mSv annually) 50 times higher than those received by the public. Yet, only low socioeconomic-status people—like buraku—tend to take such risks. This double standard is obviously ethically questionable, given that many developed nations (e.g., Germany, Scandinavian countries) prohibit it because it encourages EI—workers’ trading health for paid work, and innocent worker-descendants’ (future generations’) dying from radiation-induced genomic instability. Thus, both buraku children and their distant descendents face EI—higher radiation-induced death/disease.17,61,62 Prima-facie evidence shows, second, that FD-buraku nuclear workers also are EI and DREI victims because they likely consented to neither normal-, nor accident level, radiation exposures. Why not? Under normal conditions, 90 percent of all 83,000 Japanese nuclear workers are temporary-contract workers who receive about 16 times more radiation than the already-50-times-higherthan-public doses received by normal radiation workers. For non-accident exposures, buraku receive $350–$1,000 per day, for several days of high-radiation work. They have neither full-time employment, nor adequate compensation, nor union representation, nor health benefits, nor full dose disclosure, yet receive the highest workplace-radiation risks. Why? Industry is not required to ‘‘count’’ temporary workers’ radiation exposures when it calculates workers’ average-radiation doses for regulators. However, even if buraku were told their nonaccident doses/risks, they could not genuinely consent. They are unskilled, socially shunned, temporary laborers who are forced by economic necessity to accept even deadly jobs. This two-tier nuclear-worker system—where buraku bear most (unreported) risks, while highly-paid employees bear little (reported) risk—’’ ‘is the hidden world of nuclear power’ said.a former Tokyo University physics professor.’’ In 2010, 89 percent of FD nuclear workers were temporary-contract employees, ‘‘hired from construction sites,’’ local farms, or ‘‘local gangsters.’’ With a ‘‘constant fear of getting fired,’’ they hid their injuries/ doses—to keep their jobs.61–65 Among post-FD-accident buraku, lack of adequate consent also caused prima-facie DREI because government raised workers’ allowable, post-accident-radiation doses to 250 mSv/year—250 times what the public may receive annually.63 Yet IARC says each 250-MSv FD exposure causes 25 percent of fatal cancers. Two-years’ exposure (500 MSv) would cause 50 percent of all fatal cancers. Given such deadly risks and the dire economic situation of buraku, their genuine consent is unlikely.24,25 Still another factor thwarting FD-buraku consent—and indicating prima-facie DREI—is that FD workers likely received higher doses than government admitted. ‘‘The company refused to say how many FD contract workers had been exposed to post-disaster radiation’’; moreover, nuclear-worker-protective clothing and respirators, whether in the US or Japan, protect them only from skin/lung contamination; no gear can stop gamma irradiation of their entire bodies.56,63,66 Neither TECO, nor Japanese regulators, nor IAEA has released statistics on post-FDradiation exposures, especially to buraku inside the plant. IAEA says merely: ‘‘requirements for occupational exposure of remediation workers can be fulfilled’’ at FD, not that they have been or will be fulfilled—a fact also suggesting prima-facie DREI toward buraku.67,68
Nuclear power reactors emit radiation into disadvantaged communities whose residents are too poor to live anywhere else. They also lack the means to evacuate when disasters occur.
Shrader-Frechette 12 Kristin Shrader-Frechette, O’Neill Family Endowed Professor, Department of Biological Sciences and Department of Philosophy, and also the director of the Center for Environmental Justice and Children’s Health, at the University of Notre Dame, “Nuclear Catastrophe, Disaster-Related Environmental Injustice, and Fukushima, Japan: Prima-Facie Evidence for a Japanese ‘‘Katrina’’” ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE Volume 5, Number 3, 2012
University scientists, nuclear-industry experts, and physicians say FD radiation will cause at least 20,000- 60,000 premature-cancer deaths.41,42 Japanese poor people are among the hardest hit by FD DREI because, like those abandoned after Hurricane Katrina, Japan’s poor received inadequate post-FD-disaster assistance. Abandoned by government and ‘‘marooned’’ for weeks without roads, electricity, or water, many poor people had no medical care,43,44 transportation, or heat—despite frigid, snowy conditions.45,46 At least four reasons suggest prima-facie evidence that Japanese poor near FD have faced DREI. One prima-facie reason is that because poor people tend to live near dangerous facilities, like reactors, they face the worst accident risks. Within weeks after the FD accident began, long-lived cesium-134 and other radioactive isotopes had poisoned soils at 7.5 million times the regulatory limit; radiation outside plant boundaries was equivalent to getting about seven chest X-rays per hour.47 Roughly 19 miles Northwest of FD, air-radiation readings were 0.8 mSv per hour; after 10 days of this exposure, IARC dose- response curves predict 1 in 5 fatal cancers of those exposed would be attributable to FD; two-months exposure would mean most fatal cancers were caused by FD. Such exposures are likely because many near-Fukushima residents were too poor to evacuate.20 Farther outside the evacuation zone—less than two weeks after the accident began—soil 25 miles Northwest of FD had cesium-137 levels ‘‘twice as high as the threshold for declaring areas uninhabitable around Chernobyl,’’ suggesting ‘‘the land might need to be abandoned.’’48 Not until a month after US and international agencies recommended expanding FD evacuation zones, did Japanese-government officials consider and reject expanding evacuation.49, 50 A second prima-facie reason for Fukushima DREI is that poor people, living near reactors, have higher probabilities of being hurt by both normal and disaster-related radiation releases. Reactors normally cause prima facie EI because they release allowable radiation that increases local cancers and mortality, especially among infants/ children.51–55 Because zero is the only safe dose of ionizing radiation (as the US National Academy of Sciences warns), its cumulative LNT (Linear, No Threshold for increased risk) effects are worst closer to reactors, where poor people live. The US EPA says even normal US radiation releases, between 1970–2020, could cause up to 24,000 additional US deaths.56,57 A third prima-facie reason for Fukushima DREI is that although nearby (poor) people bear both higher preaccident and post-accident risks, others receive little/no risks and most benefits. Wealthier Tokyo residents—140 miles away—received virtually all FD electricity, yet virtually no EI or DREI. A fourth prima-facie reason for DREI burdens on FD poor is that their poverty/powerlessness arguably forced them into EI and accepting reactor siting. Companies hoping to site nuclear facilities target economically depressed areas, both in Japan and elsewhere.17,58 Thus, although FD-owner Tokyo Electric Company (TECO) has long-term safety and ‘‘cover-up scandals,’’ Fukushima residents agreed to accept TECO reactors in exchange for cash. With Fukushima $121 million in debt, in 2007 it approved two new reactors in exchange for ‘‘$45 million from the government.60 percent’’ of total town revenue.17,59 Yet if economic hardship forced poor towns to accept reactors in exchange for basic-services monies, they likely gave no informed consent. Their choice was not voluntary, but coerced by their poverty. Massive Japanese-nuclear-industry PR and media ads also have thwarted risk-disclosure, thus consent, by minimizing nuclear risks.17,53,60–62 Scientists say neither industry nor government disclosed its failure to (1) test reactor-safety equipment; (2) thwart many natural-event disasters; (3) withstand seismic events worse than those that already had occurred; (4) withstand Fukushima-type disasters; (5) admit that new passive-safety reactors require electricity to cool cores and avoid catastrophe; or (6) base reactorsafety on anything but cost-benefit tests.17,53,60–62 Thus, because prima facie evidence suggests Fukushima poor people never consented to FD siting, they are EI victims whose reactor proximity caused them also to become DREI victims.
Nuclear power construction and mining emits carbon dioxide, poisoning the environment.
Sovacool, 07 Benjamin; Senior Research Fellow for the Virginia Center for Coal and Energy Research and professor of Government and International Affairs at Virginia Tech; “What's Really Wrong With Nuclear Power?”; 11/30; http://scitizen.com/stories/Future-Energies/2007/11/What-s-Really-Wrong-With-Nuclear-Power/; JLB (8/8/2016)
Third and finally, nuclear power plants are not carbon neutral. The Oxford Research Group concludes that the nuclear fuel cycle is responsible for emitting 84 to 122 grams of carbon dioxide per every kWh, mostly from uranium mining, plant construction, and plant decommissioning. The report also notes that these emissions are around half of that as natural gas plants (so we are talking about some serious carbon). In addition, the International Atomic Energy Agency notes that uranium is getting harder to mine, meaning that the carbon emissions related to nuclear will get worse as more uranium gets depleted, not better. This is because mining uranium ores of relatively low grades and greater depth is much more energy intensive. If world nuclear generating share remains what it is today, the Oxford Research Group concludes that by 2050 nuclear power would generate as much carbion dioxide per kWh as a comparable gas-fired power station.
This results in climate change which disproportionately hurts marginalized groups.
Cuomo ‘11
(Chris Professor of Philosophy and Women's Studies, and an affiliate faculty member of the Environmental Ethics Certificate Program and the Institute for African-American Studies. The author and editor of many articles and several books in feminist, postcolonial, and environmental philosophy, Cuomo served as Director of the Institute for Women's Studies from 2006-2009. Her book, The Philosopher Queen, a reflection on post-9/11 anti-war feminist politics, was nominated for a Lambda Award and an APA book award, and her work in ecofeminist philosophy and creative interdiciplinary practice has been influential among those seeking to bring together social justice and environmental concerns, as well as theory and practice. She has been a recipient of research grants from the Rockefeller Foundation, the National Science Foundation, the Ms. Foundation, the National Council for Research on Women, and the Institute for Sustainability and Technology Policy, and she has been a visiting faculty member at Cornell University, Amherst College, and Murdoch University in Perth, Australia, “Climate Change, Vulnerability, and Responsibility,” Hypatia 26 no4 Fall 2011 p. 690-714, AM)
The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina made it plain that structural inequalities produced by racism can determine who is most affected by severe weather events, and in turn disasters can greatly intensify social and political inequalities. In addition, within nearly any society the poorest and most vulnerable includes disproportionate numbers of females, people of color, and children. Research shows that large-scale disasters are especially devastating for those who lack economic and decision-making power, and that “economic insecurity is a key factor increasing the impact of disasters on women as caregivers, producers, and community actors” (Enarson 2000, viii). But economic security is not the only factor influencing female vulnerabilities. Existing social roles and divisions of labor can also set the stage for increased susceptibility to harm. The tsunami that struck Asia in late 2004 resulted in a much greater loss of life among women and girls in many locations, because women “stayed behind to look for their children and other relatives; men more often than women can swim; men more often than women can climb trees,” and at the time the waves struck, many men and boys were working in small boats or doing errands away from home (Oxfam 2005; see also American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists 2006). Extreme droughts, already occurring due to climate change, exacerbate gender inequalities in places where it is women’s and girls’ responsibility to gather daily water, for when water becomes more scarce, “many poor people, but particularly women and girls, will have to spend more time and energy fetching water from further away” (Stern 2009, 70). Physical hardship for women and girls is multiplied, but there are also auxiliary effects, such as decreased opportunities for girls to attend school and increased risk of assault (American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists 2006; Stern 2009; UN News Centre 2009). And wealthier high emitters with running water are not immune to such ecological pressures. In southeast Australia previously prosperous farmers are suffering due to reduced water availability and accompanying distribution policies. Women married to men in farming families report that their burden is greatly increased, because drought reduces farm income, and when wages are needed women find more opportunities for off-farm work. Some must travel far or temporarily relocate for employment, although their caretaking responsibilities remain. Male partners respond to the compounding impacts of loss of financial security, livelihood, and identity with increased incidences of depression and domestic violence (Alston 2008). Not surprisingly, their vulnerabilities are also shaped by norms of sex and gender.
That outweighs—addressing the structural harms of climate change requires no longer thinking of it as a one-time event.
Nixon ‘11 (Rob, Rachel Carson Professor of English, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor, pgs. 2-3)
Three primary concerns animate this book, chief among them my conviction that we urgently need to rethink-politically, imaginatively, and theoretically-what I call "slow violence." By slow violence I mean a violence that occurs gradually and out of sight, a violence of delayed destruction that is dispersed across time and space, an attritional violence that is typically not viewed as violence at all. Violence is customarily conceived as an event or action that is immediate in time, explosive and spectacular in space, and as erupting into instant sensational visibility. We need, I believe, to engage a different kind of violence, a violence that is neither spectacular nor instantaneous, but rather incremental and accretive, its calamitous repercussions playing out across a range of temporal scales. In so doing, we also need to engage the representational, narrative, and strategic challenges posed by the relative invisibility of slow violence. Climate change, the thawing cryosphere, toxic drift, biomagnification, deforestation, the radioactive aftermaths of wars, acidifying oceans, and a host of other slowly unfolding environmental catastrophes present formidable representational obstacles that can hinder our efforts to mobilize and act decisively. The long dyings-the staggered and staggeringly discounted casualties, both human and ecological that result from war's toxic aftermaths or climate change-are underrepresented in strategic planning as well as in human memory. Had Summers advocated invading Africa with weapons of mass destruction, his proposal would have fallen under conventional definitions of violence and been perceived as a military or even an imperial invasion. Advocating invading countries with mass forms of slow-motion toxicity, however, requires rethinking our accepted assumptions of violence to include slow violence. Such a rethinking requires that we complicate conventional assumptions about violence as a highly visible act that is newsworthy because it is event focused, time bound, and body bound. We need to account for how the temporal dispersion of slow violence affects the way we perceive and respond to a variety of social afflictions-from domestic abuse to posttraumatic stress and, in particular, environmental calamities. A major challenge is representational: how to devise arresting stories, images, and symbols adequate to the pervasive but elusive violence of delayed effects. Crucially, slow violence is often not just attritional but also exponential, operating as a major threat multiplier; it can fuel long-term, proliferating conflicts in situations where the conditions for sustaining life become increasingly but gradually degraded.
Nuclear energy contaminates surrounding water. Maintenance workers are exposed to severe radiation levels as corrosive nuclear waste is released into the coolant system.
Caldicott, ‘6
Helen, Founder, President -- Nuclear Policy Research Institute, “Nuclear Power is not the answer,” p. 58-9
Radioactive corrosion or activation products that are not the result of uranium fission are also produced, as neutrons bombard the metal piping and the reactor containment. These elements, which are powerfully radioactive, include cobalt 60, iron 55, nickel 63, radioactive manganese, niobium, zinc, and chromium. These materials slough off from the pipes into the primary coolant. Officially called CRUD, it is so intensely radioactive that it poses a severe hazard to maintenance workers and inspectors in certain areas of the reactor. 36 ¶ According to David Lochbaum, a nuclear engineer at the Union of Concerned Scientists, during shutdowns of reactors, the utilities not uncommonly flush out pipes, heat exchangers, etc., to remove highly radioactive CRUD build-up. Some of the CRUD is sent to radioactive waste dumps while some is released to the river, lake, or sea nearest the reactor. 37 ¶ Although the nuclear industry claims it is "emission" free, in fact it is collectively releasing millions of curies annually. Reports documenting gaseous and liquid radioactive releases vary enormously depending upon accidental and larger-than-normal routine releases. The Millstone One reactor in Connecticut alone released a remarkable 2.97 million curies of noble gases in 1975, whereas Nine Mile Point One released 1.3 million curies in 1975. In 1974, the total release from all reactors in the United States was 6.48 million curies, and in 1993 it ranged between 96,600 curies to 214,000 curies Releases vary according to equipment failure, which is variable and fickle. By contrast, coal plants release some uranium and uranium daughter products in their smoke but very little radiation compared to atomic plants, and certainly no fission products. ¶ The utilities also admit that about 12 gallons of intensely radioactive primary coolant leaks daily into the secondary coolant via the steam generator through breaks in the pipes. Some of these emissions, which occur when the steam is released to the air, are not even monitored? Likewise, about 4,000 gallons of primary coolant water are intentionally released to the environment on a daily basis, while some just leaks out unplanned. Many other emissions are simply not monitored.
And a meta-review of the literature indicates that PTSD and mental stress rates increased as a result of the Fukushima disaster
Harada et al 15 Nahoko Harada, Division of Nursing, School of Medicine, National Defense Medical College, “Mental health and psychological impacts from the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake Disaster: a systematic literature review,” Disaster and Military MedicineThe Journal of Prehospital, Trauma and Emergency Care, 2015
Our review compiled a wide array of mental health consequence following the Great East Japan Earthquake, an unprecedented compound disaster with a combination of earthquakes, tsunamis, and a series of nuclear accidents. A considerable proportion of the study population was mentally affected to a substantial degree, and mental health responses ranged from approximately one-tenth to nearly half of the respondents 12, 27. Mental health outcomes included, but were not limited to, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Physical health changes, such as sleep and eating disturbances, were also reported. Although every disaster is different, disasters are large-scale, stressful, and distressing events that affect a significant number of people. Those who experience higher exposure to traumatic events are likely to show higher mental health responses (i.e., dose–response relationship) 60. For the most people, these acute responses are normal and gradually decrease over time, but a small proportion of the affected individuals will suffer long-term mental health issues. In a review of 160 disaster mental health studies, proportions of subjects with severe impairment were 21.6  for natural disasters and 18.5  for technological disaster samples 6. The articles in this review had relatively higher mental health rates than in previous studies. This trend might be related to the high impact of this disaster as well as the GEJE study timing, because most of the studies were conducted among the direct victims within 2 years after the disaster. Long-term, longitudinal studies are evolving, and they will potentially be useful to understand the trajectories of mental health consequences among these people. In the region affected by the Fukushima nuclear disaster, invisible and imperceptible nature of radioactive materials has been challenged among the affected people. The residents’ responses were diverse and complex; along with high proportions of mental health distress among the Fukushima residents 46, concerns for radiation effect were a prominent concern especially among pregnant women and mothers of young children 43, 49, 61. Safety issues in food and outdoor activities, along with economic issues and distrust in information disclosure were also reported 43, 49. Public psychosocial responses such as discrimination and stigmatization were also reported 48, 56. These findings are in accordance with a series of Chernobyl studies where a complex relationship between radiation exposure and physical/mental health effect has been an ongoing debate. Physical outcome studies tend to be controversial, although firm evidence can be found only on the deaths of first responders due to acute radiation exposures and high prevalence of thyroid cancer among the exposed children 8. Still, psychosocial and economic disruptions to the affected people were significant, and the International Atomic Energy Agency regarded mental health as the major public health sequelae of the Chernobyl accident 62. Mothers of young children and plant clean-up workers were among the two groups of particular concern 63, 64, 65. Psychosocial issues included not only mental health disorders but also stigmatization and discrimination of the affected people 8, suggesting the importance of integrity and accuracy of information as well as risk communication strategies. Two Fukushima studies reported distress among internally displaced people 38, 41. Mandatory evacuation measures have been in place for the area surrounding the nuclear plant, and the evacuees potentially have uncertain and ambiguous perspectives on whether or not they will be able to return home 66. This trend was also compatible with Chernobyl studies reporting challenges in evacuation and resettlement 8. Future studies will be essential to clarify the effect of evacuation following nuclear disasters. Fukushima and Chernobyl studies suggest that substantial public health efforts are crucial to establish a system capable of such exposures. Integrity and accuracy of information will be a critical issue for the public to assess their health status. These studies also have implications for other “tangible” disasters, such as emergencies related to bio-chemical weapons and infectious diseases 67. Long-term studies will be important to increase the psychosocial impact among Fukushima residents, with special focus on children, mothers, and nuclear plant workers. A number of studies assessed a considerable degree of mental distress among disaster workers. This is likely to be owing to work-related exposures of these workers. In the case of GEJE, many of the workers were also local disaster victims, and had struggles as survivors along with their work-related exposures. This effect was prominent in several studies 51, 56, 57. Two worker studies identified experiences of being discriminated against and handling residents’ complaints as risk factors for their adverse mental health 56, 57. In the former study, the Fukushima nuclear plant workers became targets of public criticism because their company was blamed for their post-disaster mismanagement. In the latter, Miyagi Prefecture workers received direct complaints from their residents in a chaotic situation. These results might give hypotheses that mental health of disaster workers is susceptible to their stakeholder’s criticisms. Past literatures identified mortuary work as predictors of PTSD or physical symptoms among disaster workers 68, 69, but in our review, there has yet be an evidence that mortuary work was associated with adverse mental health 50, 51. Further studies will be needed to elucidate the relationship between dead body exposure and mental health outcomes among this population. Previous studies highlighted vulnerable populations for post-disaster mental health, such as children, evacuees, the bereaved, and individuals with preexisting physical/mental health conditions 5, 6. Our compilation overall shows a similar trend, although studies are relatively few, especially in the context of grief.
Mentally ill face social stigma in Japan
Ando et al 13 Shuntaro Ando, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, Tokyo Metropolitan Institute of Medical Science, Tokyo, Japan, “Review of mental-health-related stigma in Japan,” Psychiatry and Clinical Neurosciences, September 30, 2013  
In Japan, the general public's knowledge of mental illness was found to be relatively poor. Weakness of personality was most often seen as the cause for mental illness, rather than biological factors, such as heritability. A substantial number of Japanese people do not recognize that people with mental illness can recover. In addition, many people have negative attitudes towards people with mental illness, considering them dangerous and unpredictable. Not surprisingly, the majority of the general public in Japan keeps greater social distance from individuals with mental illness in close relationships. Schizophrenia is more stigmatized than depression, and the severity of the illness increases the stigmatizing attitude toward it. In terms of professionals' stigmatization, mental health staff who regularly and directly have contact with individuals with mental illness have less negative attitudes. This may be associated with their accumulation of contact with people who have recovered from mental illness. Compared to Taiwan and Australia, the stigma of mental illness was stronger in Japan, which might be due to institutionalism, the lack of implementation of national campaigns, and society's value of conformity. Although some education programs appeared to be effective in reducing mental-health-related stigma, we found key implications for future interventions. For example, both the general public and professionals need to:  eliminate the misunderstanding that mental illness is caused by personal faults; (ii) focus on the adverse effects of institutionalism; (iii) stress the importance of community care; and (iv) offer direct social contact with people with mental illness.

Part two is the advocacy
The national government of Japan should ban the production of nuclear power.
CCNE 13 Citizens’ Commission on Nuclear Energy, Organization Aiming at Fundamental Reform of Nuclear Energy Policy, “Our path to a nuclear-free Japan: an interim report Executive Summary,” October 2013
Given the Fukushima Nuclear Accident and the many shortcomings found in Japanese civil nuclear policies, Japan – under national consensus - should make it a national virtue to ban the use of atomic energy for power generation and to achieve a society free of nuclear power. A “society free of nuclear power” here means a status where decisions have been taken to decommission all existing nuclear reactors and the process of decommissioning has begun. In order to achieve a shift towards a sustainable energy system, a Fundamental Law on Energy Shift should be enacted. Further, administrative and financial reform should be carried out with the aim to overcome all the past problems associated with energy policies.
Part three is solvency
Japan hasn’t learned its lesson—the only nuclear power without suffering is no nuclear power at all.
Ripley 3/11 Will; award-winning correspondent for CNN, based at the network's Tokyo bureau.; CNN; Fukushima: Five years after Japan's worst nuclear disaster; http://www.cnn.com/2016/03/08/asia/fukushima-five-year-anniversary/; JLB (9/10/16)
The moratorium lasted until August 2015, when a reactor was restarted in Sendai, sparking protests outside the plant and Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's residence in Tokyo.¶ After the plant resumed operation, Abe said that it, and others in the process of being restarted, had passed "the world's toughest safety screening."¶ Public opinion is still firmly against nuclear and many Japanese politicians and commentators have criticized the government's decision to restart the reactors.¶ Prior to the disaster, around 70 of people supported nuclear energy, according to an official poll. That level dropped to below 36 after the Fukushima meltdown, with opposition to nuclear energy growing to up to 50 or even 70, according to polls by Japanese media.¶ Former Prime Minister Naoto Kan, in office during the crisis, is one of the highest-profile voices to come out against nuclear power, calling repeatedly on the government to change its course.¶ "The safest nuclear policy is not to have any plants at all," he told a parliamentary panel in 2012.¶ While the move back towards nuclear power has been justified on the grounds of the huge cost of importing fossil fuel energy, campaigners expressed disappointment that alternative options weren't explored.¶ "Renewable energy sources such as solar, wind and thermal have so much potential here," said Ai Kashiwagi, of Greenpeace Japan, after the Sendai plant was restarted.¶ Outside of the National Diet, opposition to nuclear power remains high. A February poll by broadcaster NHK found that only 20 thought the reactors should be restarted. Before the disaster, a majority of the country supported the nuclear industry.¶ Greenpeace's Vande Putte said that Japan hasn't "learned the lesson of Fukushima." He pointed to the reactors built in seismic zones, as well as the Sendai plant, which lies 30 kilometers from an active volcano.¶ "In Japan, there's no safe place for nuclear reactors. What we have seen at Fukushima Daiichi can happen at another reactor."¶ "The government should shut down all the nuclear reactors," said Fukushima survivor Toshiki Aso.¶ "I don't want anyone else to have to go through the same suffering we did."
Japan is restarting its nuclear reactors despite intense public opposition by affected residents.
AFP 8/12 Agence France-Presse; international news agency; 8/12/16; “Japan reactor restarts, despite protests, boosting Tokyo's nuclear push”; http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-08-12/japan-reactor-restarts-in-post-fukushima-nuclear-push/7729892; JLB (8/17/16)
Japan has restarted a nuclear reactor despite a court challenge by local residents, in a boost for Tokyo's faltering post-Fukushima push to bring back atomic power. Operator Shikoku Electric Power said it switched on the No 3 reactor at its Ikata nuclear power plant in Ehime prefecture, about 700 kilometres south-west of Tokyo. The reactor — shuttered along with dozens of others across Japan in the wake of the March 2011 Fukushima accident — was expected to be fully operational by August 22. The prefecture's governor and the mayor of the plant's host town agreed on the restart in October, in the face of opposition from some local residents who filed a lawsuit to halt the refiring. Japan's Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and utility companies have been pushing to get reactors back in operation after a huge earthquake and tsunami caused a disastrous meltdown at the Fukushima nuclear power plant in north-eastern Japan. The accident forced all of Japan's dozens of reactors offline in the face of public worries over the safety of nuclear power and fears about radiation exposure, forcing a move to pricey fossil fuels. Opposition to nuclear power has seen communities across the country file lawsuits to prevent restarts, marking a serious challenge for Mr Abe's pro-nuclear stance. In April, a court ruled that Japan's only two working nuclear reactors could remain online, rejecting an appeal by residents who said tougher post-Fukushima safety rules were still inadequate.
19 reactors will be operational in Japan by 2018 by standard predictions.
WNN 7/28 World Nuclear News, “Japanese institute sees 19 reactor restarts by March 2018,” July 28 2016, http://www.world-nuclear-news.org/NP-Japanese-institute-sees-19-reactor-restarts-by-March-2018-2807164.html
Seven Japanese nuclear power reactors are likely to be in operation by the end of next March and 12 more one year later, according to an estimate by the Institute of Energy Economics, Japan (IEEJ). Judicial rulings and local consents will influence the rate of restart, it notes. In its Economic and Energy Outlook of Japan Through 2017, the IEEJ has considered the economic and environmental impacts in financial years 2016 and 2017 (ending March 2017 and 2018, respectively) of various scenarios for the restart of reactors in Japan. The organization estimates that if restarts take place according to the current schedule - the "reference scenario" - seven reactors could restart by the end of FY2016 (ending March 2017). By the end of FY2017, 19 units could be restarted, generating some 119.8 TWh of electricity annually, comfchecpared with total nuclear output of 288.2 TWh in FY2010, the year prior to the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi plant. Under this scenario, compared with FY2010, total spending on fossil fuel imports in FY2017 decreases by JPY4.7 trillion ($45 billion), while the electricity cost - including fuel costs, feed-in tariffs and grid stabilization costs - increases by about JPY100/MWh. Relative to the same period, energy-related carbon dioxide emissions to 1094 million tonnes CO2. According to the IEEJ, energy-related emissions reached a historical high of 1235 million tonnes CO2 in FY2013. The IEEJ's high-case scenario assumes a total of 25 units are restarted by the end of FY2017, generating 151.2 TWh annually, with total fossil fuel imports spending decreasing by JPY0.7 trillion relative to the low-case scenario where only 12 reactors are assumed to restart, producing 39.1 TWh. In the high-case scenario, the average electricity unit cost is lowered by about JPY600/MWh and energy-related emissions decrease by 52 million tonnes CO2.
Part four is framework
The standard is mitigating structural violence.
1 Structural violence is based in moral exclusion, it pervades our cognitive processes and encourages us to ignore differences in identity.
Winter and Leighton 99 Deborah DuNann Winter and Dana C. Leighton. Winter|Psychologist that specializes in Social Psych, Counseling Psych, Historical and Contemporary Issues, Peace Psychology. Leighton: PhD graduate student in the Psychology Department at the University of Arkansas. Knowledgable in the fields of social psychology, peace psychology, and justice and intergroup responses to transgressions of justice “Peace, conflict, and violence: Peace psychology in the 21st century.” Pg 4-5
She argues that our normal perceptual cognitive processes divide people into in-groups and out-groups. Those outside our group lie outside our scope of justice. Injustice that would be instantaneously confronted if it occurred to someone we love or know is barely noticed if it occurs to strangers or those who are invisible or irrelevant. We do not seem to be able to open our minds and our hearts to everyone, so we draw conceptual lines between those who are in and out of our moral circle. Those who fall outside are morally excluded, and become either invisible, or demeaned in some way so that we do not have to acknowledge the injustice they suffer. Moral exclusion is a human failing, but Opotow argues convincingly that it is an outcome of everyday social cognition. To reduce its nefarious effects, we must be vigilant in noticing and listening to oppressed, invisible, outsiders. Inclusionary thinking can be fostered by relationships, communication, and appreciation of diversity. Like Opotow, all the authors in this section point out that structural violence is not inevitable if we become aware of its operation, and build systematic ways to mitigate its effects. Learning about structural violence may be discouraging, overwhelming, or maddening, but these papers encourage us to step beyond guilt and anger, and begin to think about how to reduce structural violence. All the authors in this section note that the same structures (such as global communication and normal social cognition) which feed structural violence, can also be used to empower citizens to reduce it. In the long run, reducing structural violence by reclaiming neighborhoods, demanding social justice and living wages, providing prenatal care, alleviating sexism, and celebrating local cultures, will be our most surefooted path to building lasting peace.
2 Debate should surround material consequences—ideal theories ignore the concrete nature of the world and legitimize oppression.
Curry 14 Dr. Tommy J; “The Cost of a Thing: A Kingian Reformulation of a Living Wage Argument in the 21st Century”, Victory Briefs, 2014
Despite the pronouncement of debate as an activity and intellectual exercise pointing to the real world consequences of dialogue, thinking, and (personal) politics when addressing issues of racism, sexism, economic disparity, global conflicts, and death, many of the discussions concerning these ongoing challenges to humanity are fixed to a paradigm which sees the adjudication of material disparities and sociological realities as the conquest of one ideal theory over the other. In “Ideal Theory as Ideology,” Charles Mills outlines the problem contemporary theoretical-performance styles in policy debate and value-weighing in Lincoln-Douglass are confronted with in their attempts to get at the concrete problems in our societies. At the outset, Mills concedes that “ideal theory applies to moral theory as a whole (at least to normative ethics as against metaethics); since ethics deals by definition with normative/prescriptive/evaluative issues, it is set against factual/descriptive issues.” At the most general level, the conceptual chasm between what emerges as actual problems in the world (e.g.: racism, sexism, poverty, disease, etc.) and how we frame such problems theoretically—the assumptions and shared ideologies we depend upon for our problems to be heard and accepted as a worthy “problem” by an audience—is the most obvious call for an anti-ethical paradigm, since such a paradigm insists on the actual as the basis of what can be considered normatively. Mills, however, describes this chasm as a problem of an ideal-as-descriptive model which argues that for any actual-empirical-observable social phenomenon (P), an ideal of (P) is necessarily a representation of that phenomenon. In the idealization of a social phenomenon (P), one “necessarily has to abstract away from certain features” of (P) that is observed before abstraction occurs. ¶ This gap between what is actual (in the world), and what is represented by theories and politics of debaters proposed in rounds threatens any real discussions about the concrete nature of oppression and the racist economic structures which necessitate tangible policies and reorienting changes in our value orientations.
3 Global justice requires a reduction in inequality and a focus on material rights.
Okereke 07 Chukwumerije Okereke (Senior Research Associate at the Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research at the University of East Anglia). Global Justice and Neoliberal Environmental Governance. Routledge 2007
Notwithstanding these drawbacks, these scholars provide very compelling arguments against mainstream conceptions of justice. In this approach, the obli- gation of justice is derived from the moral equality of human beings irrespective of their race, creed and nationality (O'Neill 1991; Brown 1992: 169; Beitz 1979; Sen 1999). The emphasis is on the positive rights of citizens - that is the kinds of rights that require state authorities to do something in order to provide citizens with the opportunities and abilities to act to fulfil their own potential - as opposed to negative rights/liberty, which refers to freedom from coercion and non-interfer- ence. The notion of justice as meeting needs, as seen in Chapter 2, figures very prominently in quite a number of the influencing materials that form the starting point for the discourse on global sustainable development. It has been suggested, in general, that this idea of justice is 'in-------------creasingly influential on non-governmen- tal organizations and the community of international policy makers' (Brighouse 2004: 67). In general, proponents of justice as need criticize liberal ideas of justice for concentrating on political equality (equal right to speech, vote, etc.) without addressing the problem of material equality - especially in the form of equal access to resources. They also claim that the ability to own property as well as the ability to exercise political rights (say the right to vote) depends first and foremost on the ability of citizens to function effectively. When the basic human needs of citizens, for example food, are not being met, other rights become merely 'hypothetical and empty' (Sen 1999: 75). Following on from this basic reasoning, the rights approach to justice is rejected and, in its place, human basic need is seen as the correct basis of political morality and the right benchmark for the determination of political judgment (Plant 1991: 185). In previous sections we saw that libertarian notions of justice sanction unlimited material inequality between citizens, provided that each person has obtained their possessions through legitimate means. All that matters is that the state should ensure fair rules of transitions and equality before the law. We saw also that liberal accounts of justice, especially Rawls' liberal egalitarianism, reject this formula- tion of justice because it does not secure the welfare of the less able in society. On the contrary, Rawls recommends that political institutions should be structured in ways that protect the interests of the least advantaged individuals in society. Accordingly, he sanctions societal inequities provided that such inequities work to the advantage of the least well-off. On closer reading, however, it turns out that Rawls difference principle (that inequities should work in favour of the least well- off) does not contain any explicit demand relating to the basic needs of the poor. As such, it is possible for Rawls' proviso to be met even when the least well-off in the society are denied their basic needs. For example, a distribution that changes from 20:10:2 to 100:30:4 satisfies Rawls difference principle but tells us noth- ing about the actual well-being of the least well-off. So, whereas some (mainly libertarians) criticize Rawls for not specifying the extent to which other people's liberty can be sacrificed for the sake of the least well-off, others (proponents of justice as meeting need) criticize Rawls for leaving the fate of the least well-off unprotected. Many scholars in the latter group sometimes argue along Marxian lines that as long as the means of production remain in the hands of the 'haves' there is no guarantee that inequities will benefit the least well-off. Maslow (1968), Bradshaw (1972) and Forder (1974) have all consequently argued that only the theory of need provides, as Maslow (1968: 4) puts it, 'the ultimate appeal for the determination of the good, bad, right and wrong' in a po- litical community. Without the theory of need, they say, it would be impossible to justify the welfare state in capitalist Western democracies. On the other hand, the co-existence of welfare and capitalism confirms the place of need as the criterion of moral political judgment. O'Neill (1991), Sen (1999) and Nussbaum (2000) have all extended versions of this argument to the international domain. O'Neill (1980, 1991) argues that adherence to the Kantian categorical imperative entails that the global community must act to remove the aching poverty and famine that threaten the existence of millions of people in developing countries. Sen (1999), for his part, calls for the strengthening of international institutions to make them able to assist the least well in the global society to achieve the measure of actual living that is required for the basic function and well-being of citizens. For Sen, as for O'Neill, all forms of liberty and rights are meaningful only when people have the substantive 'freedom to achieve actual living' (Sen 1999: 73; cf. O'Neill 1989: 288; 1986). Thomas Pogge also places emphasis on human basic need and starts his well-known book World Poverty and Human Rights with the rhetorical ques- tion: 'How can severe poverty of half of humankind continue despite enormous economic and technological progress and despite the enlightened moral norms and values of our heavily dominant Western civilization?' (Pogge 2002: 3).
4—The social stratifications present in Japan along lines of race and class should give structural violence special weight in your impact calculus.
Shrader-Frechette 12 Kristin Shrader-Frechette, O’Neill Family Endowed Professor, Department of Biological Sciences and Department of Philosophy, and also the director of the Center for Environmental Justice and Children’s Health, at the University of Notre Dame, “Nuclear Catastrophe, Disaster-Related Environmental Injustice, and Fukushima, Japan: Prima-Facie Evidence for a Japanese ‘‘Katrina’’” ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE Volume 5, Number 3, 2012
 One of the first clues about pre-FD-accident Environmental Injustice is that Japanese economic inequality ‘‘is now higher than the OECD average; the ratio of people with incomes below the poverty line.ranks in the highest group’’ among OECD countries.’’4,5 In fact, economic inequality appears worse in Japan than the US—long considered the most economically unequal developed nation.6 Moreover, because Japanese ‘‘social stratification.is quite rigid,’’ its middle class is smaller than in the US and much smaller than in western Europe.7 Yet, the Japanese government neither acknowledges nor measures poverty,8 which contributes to prima facie evidence for pre-FD-accident EI.3 (Following ethicists John Rawls and W.D. Ross, prima-facie evidence is preliminary evidence that—in the absence of available, specific data—establishes a presumptive claim. Ultima-facie evidence is final-analysis (not merely presumptive) evidence based on specific, complete data.9 Because of incomplete FD radiation-risk and demographic data, this article surveys only prima-facie evidence for FD EI.) Besides poor people, prima-facie, pre-FD-accident evidence also suggests ‘‘buraku’’ or ‘‘blacks’’ face Japanese EI. Buraku are historically marginalized or offspring of Japanese-Korean parents, people with experiences like those of US Blacks. Although buraku do not look different, they are marginalized because of their low-level occupations and socio-economic status. Because of buraku, some African-Americans say Japanese racism ‘‘today is as crude’’ as it ever was in Europe/America; indeed, most Japanese viewed Obama’s election as ‘‘an aberration’’ because he would never have won in Japan; if only one of Obama’s parents were Japanese, he could not even have gained Japanese citizenship until 1985.10 Additional evidence for buraku’s and poor people’s social marginalization is their being the main victims of Japan’s ‘‘suicide epidemic’’—32,000 deaths annually.11 Japanese children likewise are prima-facie, pre-FD accident, EI victims, mainly because they have no adult defenses against pollution.12 Because their organ and detoxification systems are still developing, and because they take in more air, water, food, and pollutants than adults, per unit of body mass, ‘‘children are often more susceptible to environmental contaminants than adults.’’ Yet, most nations—including Japan—give no special pollution protections to children.13 Although prima-facie evidence suggests poor people, buraku, and children faced pre-accident EI, Japanese EI is barely recognized. Only after Akira Kurihara’s 2006 work on Minimata Disease, experts say, did Japanese accept ‘‘environmental-pollution diseases’’ and the ‘‘state of social exclusion’’ of EI victims.14 What happened to poor people, buraku, and children after the 2011 FukushimaDaiichi (FD) nuclear catastrophe? Were they DREI victims? To answer these questions, consider first the FD accident.
5 No act omission distinction for states.
Sunstein Cass R. Sunstein and Adrian Vermeule. The University of Chicago Law School. “Is Capital Punishment Morally Required? The Relevance of Life‐Life Tradeoffs.” JOHN M. OLIN LAW and ECONOMICS WORKING PAPER NO. 239. The Chicago Working Paper Series. March 2005
In our view, both the argument from causation and the argument from intention go wrong by overlooking the distinctive features of government as a moral agent. Whatever the general status of the act-omission distinction as a matter of moral philosophy,38 the distinction is least impressive when applied to government.39 The most fundamental point is that unlike individuals, governments always and necessarily face a choice between or among possible policies for regulating third parties. The distinction between acts and omissions may not be intelligible in this context, and even if it is, the distinction does not make a morally relevant difference. Most generally, government is in the business of creating permissions and prohibitions. When it explicitly or implicitly authorizes private action, it is not omitting to do anything, or refusing to act.40 Moreover, the distinction between authorized and unauthorized private action—for example, private killing—becomes obscure when the government formally forbids private action, but chooses a set of policy instruments that do not adequately or fully discourage it.
Part 5: Underview 

1. Prefer reasonable aff interps and drop the argument on T. The judge should use reasonability with a bright line of the presence of link and impact turn ground for the negative. Since he has equal access to offense, there’s no abuse because structural access to the ballot is the same.
   A. There are multiple legitimate interpretations of the topic and the aff goes into the round with no knowledge of 1NC strategy. I had to choose between mutually exclusive interps and the neg can always read T so don’t punish me for having to set grounds.

2. Aff gets RVIs
A) Time skew – the 2AR doesn’t have enough time to cover both theory and substance since the 2NR is twice as long so I have half the offense at the end of the debate – I should be able to collapse to the highest layer.
B) The 1AR is too short to read theory especially if I have to cover his shell – I need an RVI for theory to be reciprocal, which is key to equal access to the ballot.
C) The aff is always open to theory since I have to take a stance on some interpretational issues – RVIs are key to check frivolous theory – key to a discussion of the topic which is key to education, and ensures the aff gets access to the 1AC.
D) Only the neg can read T which precludes theory and all aff offense, so I need an RVI on it to compensate for that advantage. 

Social injustice is the root of mass-scale violence – it primes society for external violence.
 Scheper-Hughes 04 (Scheper-Hughes 4 (Prof of Anthropology @ Cal-Berkely; Prof of Anthropology @ UPenn) (Nancy and Philippe, Introduction: Making Sense of Violence, in Violence in War and Peace, pg. 19-22)
This large and at first sight “messy” Part VII is central to this anthology’s thesis. It encompasses everything from the routinized, bureaucratized, and utterly banal violence of children dying of hunger and maternal despair in Northeast Brazil (Scheper-Hughes, Chapter 33) to elderly African Americans dying of heat stroke in Mayor Daly’s version of US apartheid in Chicago’s South Side (Klinenberg, Chapter 38) to the racialized class hatred expressed by British Victorians in their olfactory disgust of the “smelly” working classes (Orwell, Chapter 36). In these readings violence is located in the symbolic and social structures that overdetermine and allow the criminalized drug addictions, interpersonal bloodshed, and racially patterned incarcerations that characterize the US “inner city” to be normalized (Bourgois, Chapter 37 and Wacquant, Chapter 39). Violence also takes the form of class, racial, political self-hatred and adolescent self-destruction (Quesada, Chapter 35), as well as of useless (i.e.  preventable), rawly embodied physical suffering, and death (Farmer, Chapter 34).  Absolutely central to our approach is a blurring of categories and distinctions between wartime and peacetime violence. Close attention to the “little” violences produced in the structures, habituses, and mentalites of everyday life shifts our attention to pathologies of class, race, and gender inequalities. More important, it interrupts the voyeuristic tendencies of “violence studies” that risk publicly humiliating the powerless who are often forced into complicity with social and individual pathologies of power because suffering is often a solvent of human integrity and dignity. Thus, in this anthology we are positing a violence continuum comprised of a multitude of “small wars and invisible genocides” (see also Scheper- Hughes 1996; 1997; 2000b) conducted in the normative social spaces of public schools, clinics, emergency rooms, hospital wards, nursing homes, courtrooms, public registry offices, prisons, detention centers, and public morgues. The violence continuum also refers to the ease with which humans are capable of reducing the socially vulnerable into expendable nonpersons and assuming the license - even the duty - to kill, maim, or soul-murder. We realize that in referring to a violence and a genocide continuum we are flying in the face of a tradition of genocide studies that argues for the absolute uniqueness of the Jewish Holocaust and for vigilance with respect to restricted purist use of the term genocide itself (see Kuper 1985; Chaulk 1999; Fein 1990; Chorbajian 1999). But we hold an opposing and alternative view that, to the contrary, it is absolutely necessary to make just such existential leaps in purposefully linking violent acts in normal times to those of abnormal times. Hence the title of our volume: Violence in War and in Peace. If (as we concede) there is a moral risk in overextending the concept of “genocide” into spaces and corners of everyday life where we might not ordinarily think to find it (and there is), an even greater risk lies in failing to sensitize ourselves, in misrecognizing protogenocidal practices and sentiments daily enacted as normative behavior by “ordinary” good-enough citizens. Peacetime crimes, such as prison construction sold as economic development to impoverished communities in the mountains and deserts of California, or the evolution of the criminal industrial complex into the latest peculiar institution for managing race relations in the United States (Waquant, Chapter 39), constitute the “small wars and invisible genocides” to which we refer. This applies to African American and Latino youth mortality statistics in Oakland, California, Baltimore, Washington DC, and New York City. These are “invisible” genocides not because they are secreted away or hidden from view, but quite the opposite.  As Wittgenstein observed, the things that are hardest to perceive are those which are right before our eyes and therefore taken for granted. In this regard, Bourdieu’s partial and unfinished theory of violence (see Chapters 32 and 42) as well as his concept of misrecognition is crucial to our task. By including the normative everyday forms of violence hidden in the minutiae of “normal” social practices - in the architecture of homes, in gender relations, in communal work, in the exchange of gifts, and so forth - Bourdieu forces us to reconsider the broader meanings and status of violence, especially the links between the violence of everyday life and explicit political terror and state repression, Similarly, Basaglia’s notion of “peacetime crimes” - crimini di pace - imagines a direct relationship between wartime and peacetime violence. Peacetime crimes suggests the possibility that war crimes are merely ordinary, everyday crimes of public consent applied systematically and dramatically in the extreme context of war. Consider the parallel uses of rape during peacetime and wartime, or the family resemblances between the legalized violence of US immigration and naturalization border raids on “illegal aliens” versus the US government- engineered genocide in 1938, known as the Cherokee “Trail of Tears.” Peacetime crimes suggests that everyday forms of state violence make a certain kind of domestic peace possible.  Internal “stability” is purchased with the currency of peacetime crimes, many of which take the form of professionally applied “strangle-holds.” Everyday forms of state violence during peacetime make a certain kind of domestic “peace” possible. It is an easy-to-identify peacetime crime that is usually maintained as a public secret by the government and by a scared or apathetic populace. Most subtly, but no less politically or structurally, the phenomenal growth in the United States of a new military, postindustrial prison industrial complex has taken place in the absence of broad-based opposition, let alone collective acts of civil disobedience. The public consensus is based primarily on a new mobilization of an old fear of the mob, the mugger, the rapist, the Black man, theundeserving poor. How many public executions of mentally deficient prisoners in the United States are needed to make life feel more secure for the affluent? What can it possibly mean when incarceration becomes the “normative” socializing experience for ethnic minority youth in a society, i.e., over 33 percent of young African American men (Prison Watch 2002).  In the end it is essential that we recognize the existence of a genocidal capacity among otherwise good-enough humans and that we need to exercise a defensive hypervigilance to the less dramatic, permitted, and even rewarded everyday acts of violence that render participation in genocidal acts and policies possible (under adverse political or economic conditions), perhaps more easily than we would like to recognize. Under the violence continuum we include, therefore, all expressions of radical social exclusion, dehumanization, depersonalization, pseudospeciation, and reification which normalize atrocious behavior and violence toward others. A constant self-mobilization for alarm, a state of constant hyperarousal is, perhaps, a reasonable response to Benjamin’s view of late modern history as a chronic “state of emergency” (Taussig, Chapter 31). We are trying to recover here the classic anagogic thinking that enabled Erving Goffman, Jules Henry, C. Wright Mills, and Franco Basaglia among other mid-twentieth-century radically critical thinkers, to perceive the symbolic and structural relations, i.e., between inmates and patients, between concentration camps, prisons, mental hospitals, nursing homes, and other “total institutions.” Making that decisive move to recognize the continuum of violence allows us to see the capacity and the willingness - if not enthusiasm - of ordinary people, the practical technicians of the social consensus, to enforce genocidal-like crimes against categories of rubbish people. There is no primary impulse out of which mass violence and genocide areborn, it is ingrained in the common sense of everyday social life.  The mad, the differently abled, the mentally vulnerable have often fallen into this category of the unworthy living, as have the very old and infirm, the sick-poor, and, of course, the despised racial, religious, sexual, and ethnic groups of the moment. Erik Erikson referred to “pseudo- speciation” as the human tendency to classify some individuals or social groups as less than fully human a prerequisite to genocide and one that is carefully honed during the unremarkable peacetimes that precede the sudden, “seemingly unintelligible” outbreaks of mass violence. Collective denial and misrecognition are prerequisites for mass violence and genocide. But so are formal bureaucratic structures and professional roles. The practical technicians of everyday violence in the backlands of Northeast Brazil (Scheper-Hughes, Chapter 33), for example, include the clinic doctors who prescribe powerful tranquilizers to fretful and frightfully hungry babies, the Catholic priests who celebrate the death of “angel-babies,” and the municipal bureaucrats who dispense free baby coffins but no food to hungry families.  Everyday violence encompasses the implicit, legitimate, and routinized forms of violence inherent in particular social, economic, and political formations. It is close to what Bourdieu (1977, 1996) means by “symbolic violence,” the violence that is often “nus-recognized” for something else, usually something good. Everyday violence is similar to what Taussig (1989) calls “terror as usual.” All these terms are meant to reveal a public secret - the hidden links between violence in war and violence in peace, and between war crimes and “peace-time crimes.” Bourdieu (1977) finds domination and violence in the least likely places - in courtship and marriage, in the exchange of gifts, in systems of classification, in style, art, and culinary taste- the various uses of culture. Violence, Bourdieu insists, is everywhere in social practice. It is misrecognized because its very everydayness and its familiarity render it invisible. Lacan identifies “rneconnaissance” as the prerequisite of the social. The exploitation of bachelor sons, robbing them of autonomy, independence, and progeny, within the structures of family farming in the European countryside that Bourdieu escaped is a case in point (Bourdieu, Chapter 42; see also Scheper-Hughes, 2000b; Favret-Saada, 1989).  Following Gramsci, Foucault, Sartre, Arendt, and other modern theorists of power-vio- lence, Bourdieu treats direct aggression and physical violence as a crude, uneconomical mode of domination; it is less efficient and, according to Arendt (1969), it is certainly less legitimate.  While power and symbolic domination are not to be equated with violence - and Arendt argues persuasively that violence is to be understood as a failure of power - violence, as we are presenting it here, is more than simply the expression of illegitimate physical force against a person or group of persons. Rather, we need to understand violence as encompassing all forms of “controlling processes” (Nader 1997b) that assault basic human freedoms and individual or collective survival. Our task is to recognize these gray zones of violence which are, by definition, not obvious. Once again, the point of bringing into the discourses on genocide everyday, normative experiences of reification, depersonalization, institutional confinement, and acceptable death is to help answer the question: What makes mass violence and genocide possible? In this volume we are suggesting that mass violence is part of a continuum, and that it is socially incremental and often experienced by perpetrators, collaborators, bystanders - and even by victims themselves - as expected, routine, even justified. The preparations for mass killing can be found in social sentiments and institutions from the family, to schools, churches, hospitals, and the military. They harbor the early “warning signs” (Charney 1991), the “priming” (as Hinton, ed., 2002 calls it), or the “genocidal continuum” (as we call it) that push social consensus toward devaluing certain forms of human life and lifeways from the refusal of social support and humane care to vulnerable “social parasites” (the nursing home elderly, “welfare queens,” undocumented immigrants, drug addicts) to the militarization of everyday life (super-maximum-security prisons, capital punishment; the technologies of heightened personal security, including the house gun and gated communities; and reversed feelings of victimization).
No great power war---deterrence, economic interdependence, political and business elites and social changes
Aziz 14 John, former economics and business editor at TheWeek.com, Don't worry: World War III will almost certainly never happen, March 6, http://theweek.com/article/index/257517/dont-worry-world-war-iii-will-almost-certainly-never-happen
Next year will be the seventieth anniversary of the end of the last global conflict. There have been points on that timeline — such as the Cuban missile crisis in 1962, and a Soviet computer malfunction in 1983 that erroneously suggested that the U.S. had attacked, and perhaps even the Kosovo War in 1999 — when a global conflict was a real possibility. Yet today — in the shadow of a flare up which some are calling a new Cold War between Russia and the U.S. — I believe the threat of World War III has almost faded into nothingness. That is, the probability of a world war is the lowest it has been in decades, and perhaps the lowest it has ever been since the dawn of modernity.¶ This is certainly a view that current data supports. Steven Pinker's studies into the decline of violence reveal that deaths from war have fallen and fallen since World War II. But we should not just assume that the past is an accurate guide to the future. Instead, we must look at the factors which have led to the reduction in war and try to conclude whether the decrease in war is sustainable.¶ So what's changed? Well, the first big change after the last world war was the arrival of mutually assured destruction. It's no coincidence that the end of the last global war coincided with the invention of atomic weapons. The possibility of complete annihilation provided a huge disincentive to launching and expanding total wars. Instead, the great powers now fight proxy wars like Vietnam and Afghanistan (the 1980 version, that is), rather than letting their rivalries expand into full-on, globe-spanning struggles against each other. Sure, accidents could happen, but the possibility is incredibly remote. More importantly, nobody in power wants to be the cause of Armageddon.¶ But what about a non-nuclear global war? Other changes — economic and social in nature — have made that highly unlikely too.¶ The world has become much more economically interconnected since the last global war. Economic cooperation treaties and free trade agreements have intertwined the economies of countries around the world. This has meant there has been a huge rise in the volume of global trade since World War II, and especially since the 1980s.¶ Today consumer goods like smartphones, laptops, cars, jewelery, food, cosmetics, and medicine are produced on a global level, with supply-chains criss-crossing the planet. An example: The laptop I am typing this on is the cumulative culmination of thousands of hours of work, as well as resources and manufacturing processes across the globe. It incorporates metals like tellurium, indium, cobalt, gallium, and manganese mined in Africa. Neodymium mined in China. Plastics forged out of oil, perhaps from Saudi Arabia, or Russia, or Venezuela. Aluminum from bauxite, perhaps mined in Brazil. Iron, perhaps mined in Australia. These raw materials are turned into components — memory manufactured in Korea, semiconductors forged in Germany, glass made in the United States. And it takes gallons and gallons of oil to ship all the resources and components back and forth around the world, until they are finally assembled in China, and shipped once again around the world to the consumer.¶ In a global war, global trade becomes a nightmare. Shipping becomes more expensive due to higher insurance costs, and riskier because it's subject to seizures, blockades, ship sinkings. Many goods, intermediate components or resources — including energy supplies like coal and oil, components for military hardware, etc, may become temporarily unavailable in certain areas. Sometimes — such as occurred in the Siege of Leningrad during World War II — the supply of food can be cut off. This is why countries hold strategic reserves of things like helium, pork, rare earth metals and oil, coal, and gas. These kinds of breakdowns were troublesome enough in the economic landscape of the early and mid-20th century, when the last global wars occurred. But in today's ultra-globalized and ultra-specialized economy? The level of economic adaptation — even for large countries like Russia and the United States with lots of land and natural resources — required to adapt to a world war would be crushing, and huge numbers of business and livelihoods would be wiped out.¶ In other words, global trade interdependency has become, to borrow a phrase from finance, too big to fail.¶ It is easy to complain about the reality of big business influencing or controlling politicians. But big business has just about the most to lose from breakdowns in global trade. A practical example: If Russian oligarchs make their money from selling gas and natural resources to Western Europe, and send their children to schools in Britain and Germany, and lend and borrow money from the West's financial centers, are they going to be willing to tolerate Vladimir Putin starting a regional war in Eastern Europe (let alone a world war)? Would the Chinese financial industry be happy to see their multi-trillion dollar investments in dollars and U.S. treasury debt go up in smoke? Of course, world wars have been waged despite international business interests, but the world today is far more globalized than ever before and well-connected domestic interests are more dependent on access to global markets, components and resources, or the repayment of foreign debts. These are huge disincentives to global war.

Abstract questioning is useless - debate should seek to design concrete alternatives.
Bryant 12 (EDITED FOR GENDERED LANGUAGE – the author said “she” and it was replaced with the word “to” – Levi Bryant is currently a Professor of Philosophy at Collin College. In addition to working as a professor, Bryant has also served as a Lacanian psychoanalyst. He received his Ph.D. from Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois, where he originally studied 'disclosedness' with the Heidegger scholar Thomas Sheehan. Bryant later changed his dissertation topic to the transcendental empiricism of Gilles Deleuze,  “Critique of the Academic Left”, http://larvalsubjects.wordpress.com/2012/11/11/underpants-gnomes-a-critique-of-the-academic-left/)
I must be in a mood today– half irritated, half amused –because I find myself ranting. Of course, that’s not entirely unusual. So this afternoon I came across a post by a friend quoting something discussing the environmental movement that pushed all the right button. As the post read,¶ For mainstream environmentalism– conservationism, green consumerism, and resource management –humans are conceptually separated out of nature and mythically placed in privileged positions of authority and control over ecological communities and their nonhuman constituents. What emerges is the fiction of a marketplace of ‘raw materials’ and ‘resources’ through which human-centered wants, constructed as needs, might be satisfied. The mainstream narratives are replete with such metaphors carbon trading!. Natural complexity _{mutuality, and diversity are rendered virtually meaningless given discursive parameters that reduce nature to discrete units of exchange measuring extractive capacities. Jeff Shantz, “Green Syndicalism”¶ While finding elements this description perplexing– I can’t say that I see many environmentalists treating nature and culture as distinct or suggesting that we’re sovereigns of nature –I do agree that we conceive much of our relationship to the natural world in economic terms (not a surprise that capitalism is today a universal). This, however, is not what bothers me about this passage.¶ What I wonder is just what we’re supposed to do even if all of this is true? What, given existing conditions, are we to do if all of this is right? At least green consumerism, conservation, resource management, and things like carbon trading are engaging in activities that are making real differences. From this passage– and maybe the entire text would disabuse me of this conclusion –it sounds like we are to reject all of these interventions because they remain tied to a capitalist model of production that the author (and myself) find abhorrent. The idea seems to be that if we endorse these things we are tainting our hands and would therefore do well to reject them altogether. The problem as I see it is that this is the worst sort of abstraction (in the Marxist sense) and wishful thinking. Within a Marxo-Hegelian context, a thought is abstract when it ignores all of the mediations in which a thing is embedded. For example, I understand a robust tree abstractly when I attribute its robustness, say, to its genetics alone, ignoring the complex relations to its soil, the air, sunshine, rainfall, etc., that also allowed it to grow robustly in this way. This is the sort of critique we’re always leveling against the neoliberals. They are abstract thinkers. In their doxa that individuals are entirely responsible for themselves and that they completely make themselves by pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, neoliberals ignore all the mediations belonging to the social and material context in which human beings develop that play a role in determining the vectors of their life. They ignore, for example, that George W. Bush grew up in a family that was highly connected to the world of business and government and that this gave him opportunities that someone living in a remote region of Alaska in a very different material infrastructure and set of family relations does not have. To think concretely is to engage in a cartography of these mediations, a mapping of these networks, from circumstance to circumstance (what I call an “onto-cartography”). It is to map assemblages, networks, or ecologies in the constitution of entities.¶ Unfortunately, the academic left falls prey to its own form of abstraction. It’s good at carrying out critiques that denounce various social formations, yet very poor at proposing any sort of realistic constructions of alternatives. This because it thinks abstractly in its own way, ignoring how networks, assemblages, structures, or regimes of attraction would have to be remade to create a workable alternative. Here I’m reminded by the “underpants gnomes” depicted in South Park:¶ The underpants gnomes have a plan for achieving profit that goes like this: Phase 1: Collect Underpants Phase 2: ? Phase 3: Profit! They even have a catchy song to go with their work:¶ Well this is sadly how it often is with the academic left. Our plan seems to be as follows: Phase 1: Ultra-Radical Critique Phase 2: ? Phase 3: Revolution and complete social transformation! Our problem is that we seem perpetually stuck at phase 1 without ever explaining what is to be done at phase 2. Often the critiques articulated at phase 1 are right, but there are nonetheless all sorts of problems with those critiques nonetheless. In order to reach phase 3, we have to produce new collectives. In order for new collectives to be produced, people need to be able to hear and understand the critiques developed at phase 1. Yet this is where everything begins to fall apart. Even though these critiques are often right, we express them in ways that only an academic with a PhD in critical theory and post-structural theory can understand. How exactly is Adorno to produce an effect in the world if only PhD’s in the humanities can understand him? Who are these things for? We seem to always ignore these things and then look down our noses with disdain at the Naomi Kleins and David Graebers of the world. To make matters worse, we publish our work in expensive academic journals that only universities can afford, with presses that don’t have a wide distribution, and give our talks at expensive hotels at academic conferences attended only by other academics. Again, who are these things for? Is it an accident that so many activists look away from these things with contempt, thinking their more about an academic industry and tenure, than producing change in the world? If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, it doesn’t make a sound! Seriously dudes and dudettes, what are you doing?¶ But finally, and worst of all, us Marxists and anarchists all too often act like assholes. We denounce others, we condemn them, we berate them for not engaging with the questions we want to engage with, and we vilify them when they don’t embrace every bit of the doxa that we endorse. We are every bit as off-putting and unpleasant as the fundamentalist minister or the priest of the inquisition (have people yet understood that Deleuze and Guattari’s Anti-Oedipus was a critique of the French communist party system and the Stalinist party system, and the horrific passions that arise out of parties and identifications in general?). This type of “revolutionary” is the greatest friend of the reactionary and capitalist because they do more to drive people into the embrace of reigning ideology than to undermine reigning ideology. These are the people that keep Rush Limbaugh in business. Well done!¶ But this isn’t where our most serious shortcomings lie. Our most serious shortcomings are to be found at phase 2. We almost never make concrete proposals for how things ought to be restructured, for what new material infrastructures and semiotic fields need to be produced, and when we do, our critique-intoxicated cynics and skeptics immediately jump in with an analysis of all the ways in which these things contain dirty secrets, ugly motives, and are doomed to fail.}

Particularity is the best standard
Price 98 (RICHARD PRICE is a former prof in the Department of Anthropology at Yale University. Later, he moved to Johns Hopkins University to found the Department of Anthropology, where he served three terms as chair. A decade of freelance teaching (University of Minnesota, Stanford University, Princeton University, University of Florida, Universidade Federal da Bahia), ensued. This article is co-authored with CHRISTIAN REUS-SMIT – Monash University – European Journal of International Relations Copyright © 1998 via SAGE Publications – http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/~courses/PoliticalScience/661B1/documents/PriceReusSmithCriticalInternatlTheoryConstructivism.pdf)
One of the central departures of critical international theory from positivism is the view that we cannot escape the interpretive moment. As George (1994: 24) argues, ‘the world is always an interpreted “thing”, and it is always interpreted in conditions of disagreement and conflict, to one degree or another’. For this reason, ‘there can be no common body of observational or tested data that we can turn to for a neutral, objective knowledge of the world. There can be no ultimate knowledge, for example, that actually corresponds to reality per se.’ This proposition has been endorsed wholeheartedly by constructivists, who are at pains to deny the possibility of making ‘Big-T’ Truth claims about the world and studiously avoid attributing such status to their findings. This having been said, after undertaking sustained empirical analyses of aspects of world politics constructivists do make ‘small-t’ truth claims about the subjects they have investigated. That is, they claim to have arrived at logical and empirically plausible interpretations of actions, events or processes, and they appeal to the weight of evidence to sustain such claims. While admitting that their claims are always contingent and partial interpretations of a complex world, Price (1995, 1997) claims that his genealogy provides the best account to date to make sense of anomalies surrounding the use of chemical weapons, and Reus-Smit (1997) claims that a culturalist perspective offers the best explanation of institutional differences between historical societies of states. Do such claims contradict the interpretive ethos of critical international theory? For two reasons, we argue that they do not. First, the interpretive ethos of critical international theory is driven, in large measure, by a normative rejection of totalizing discourses, of general theoretical frameworks that privilege certain perspectives over others. One searches constructivist scholarship in vain, though, for such discourses. With the possible exception of Wendt’s problematic flirtation with general systemic theory and professed commitment to ‘science’, constructivist research is at its best when and because it is question driven, with self-consciously contingent claims made specifically in relation to particular phenomena, at a particular time, based on particular evidence, and always open to alternative interpretations. Second, the rejection of totalizing discourses based on ‘big-T’ Truth claims does not foreclose the possibility, or even the inevitability, of making ‘small-t’ truth claims. In fact, we would argue that as soon as one observes and interacts in the world such claims are unavoidable, either as a person engaged in everyday life or as a scholar. As Nietzsche pointed out long ago, we cannot help putting forth truth claims about the world. The individual who does not cannot act, and the genuinely unhypocritical relativist who cannot struggles for something to say and write. In short, if constructivists are not advancing totalizing discourses, and if making ‘small-t’ truth claims is inevitable if one is to talk about how the world works, then it is no more likely that constructivism per se violates the interpretive ethos of critical international theory than does critical theory itself.

Tournament: Greenhill RR | Round: 3 | Opponent: Cypress Woods LC | Judge: Jacob Koshak, Chris Randall
Part one is nuclear exploitation and violence
Nuclear power exploits minority workers forced by economic necessity into early death.
Shrader-Frechette 12 Kristin Shrader-Frechette, O’Neill Family Endowed Professor, Department of Biological Sciences and Department of Philosophy, and also the director of the Center for Environmental Justice and Children’s Health, at the University of Notre Dame, “Nuclear Catastrophe, Disaster-Related Environmental Injustice, and Fukushima, Japan: Prima-Facie Evidence for a Japanese ‘‘Katrina’’” ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE Volume 5, Number 3, 2012
Prima-facie evidence likewise shows buraku nuclear workers are both EI and DREI victims. Internationally, nuclear workers are prominent EI victims because even without accidents, they are allowed to receive ionizingradiation doses (50 mSv annually) 50 times higher than those received by the public. Yet, only low socioeconomic-status people—like buraku—tend to take such risks. This double standard is obviously ethically questionable, given that many developed nations (e.g., Germany, Scandinavian countries) prohibit it because it encourages EI—workers’ trading health for paid work, and innocent worker-descendants’ (future generations’) dying from radiation-induced genomic instability. Thus, both buraku children and their distant descendents face EI—higher radiation-induced death/disease.17,61,62 Prima-facie evidence shows, second, that FD-buraku nuclear workers also are EI and DREI victims because they likely consented to neither normal-, nor accident level, radiation exposures. Why not? Under normal conditions, 90 percent of all 83,000 Japanese nuclear workers are temporary-contract workers who receive about 16 times more radiation than the already-50-times-higherthan-public doses received by normal radiation workers. For non-accident exposures, buraku receive $350–$1,000 per day, for several days of high-radiation work. They have neither full-time employment, nor adequate compensation, nor union representation, nor health benefits, nor full dose disclosure, yet receive the highest workplace-radiation risks. Why? Industry is not required to ‘‘count’’ temporary workers’ radiation exposures when it calculates workers’ average-radiation doses for regulators. However, even if buraku were told their nonaccident doses/risks, they could not genuinely consent. They are unskilled, socially shunned, temporary laborers who are forced by economic necessity to accept even deadly jobs. This two-tier nuclear-worker system—where buraku bear most (unreported) risks, while highly-paid employees bear little (reported) risk—’’ ‘is the hidden world of nuclear power’ said.a former Tokyo University physics professor.’’ In 2010, 89 percent of FD nuclear workers were temporary-contract employees, ‘‘hired from construction sites,’’ local farms, or ‘‘local gangsters.’’ With a ‘‘constant fear of getting fired,’’ they hid their injuries/ doses—to keep their jobs.61–65 Among post-FD-accident buraku, lack of adequate consent also caused prima-facie DREI because government raised workers’ allowable, post-accident-radiation doses to 250 mSv/year—250 times what the public may receive annually.63 Yet IARC says each 250-MSv FD exposure causes 25 percent of fatal cancers. Two-years’ exposure (500 MSv) would cause 50 percent of all fatal cancers. Given such deadly risks and the dire economic situation of buraku, their genuine consent is unlikely.24,25 Still another factor thwarting FD-buraku consent—and indicating prima-facie DREI—is that FD workers likely received higher doses than government admitted. ‘‘The company refused to say how many FD contract workers had been exposed to post-disaster radiation’’; moreover, nuclear-worker-protective clothing and respirators, whether in the US or Japan, protect them only from skin/lung contamination; no gear can stop gamma irradiation of their entire bodies.56,63,66 Neither TECO, nor Japanese regulators, nor IAEA has released statistics on post-FDradiation exposures, especially to buraku inside the plant. IAEA says merely: ‘‘requirements for occupational exposure of remediation workers can be fulfilled’’ at FD, not that they have been or will be fulfilled—a fact also suggesting prima-facie DREI toward buraku.67,68
Nuclear power reactors emit radiation into disadvantaged communities whose residents are too poor to live anywhere else. They also lack the means to evacuate when disasters occur.
Shrader-Frechette 12 Kristin Shrader-Frechette, O’Neill Family Endowed Professor, Department of Biological Sciences and Department of Philosophy, and also the director of the Center for Environmental Justice and Children’s Health, at the University of Notre Dame, “Nuclear Catastrophe, Disaster-Related Environmental Injustice, and Fukushima, Japan: Prima-Facie Evidence for a Japanese ‘‘Katrina’’” ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE Volume 5, Number 3, 2012
University scientists, nuclear-industry experts, and physicians say FD radiation will cause at least 20,000- 60,000 premature-cancer deaths.41,42 Japanese poor people are among the hardest hit by FD DREI because, like those abandoned after Hurricane Katrina, Japan’s poor received inadequate post-FD-disaster assistance. Abandoned by government and ‘‘marooned’’ for weeks without roads, electricity, or water, many poor people had no medical care,43,44 transportation, or heat—despite frigid, snowy conditions.45,46 At least four reasons suggest prima-facie evidence that Japanese poor near FD have faced DREI. One prima-facie reason is that because poor people tend to live near dangerous facilities, like reactors, they face the worst accident risks. Within weeks after the FD accident began, long-lived cesium-134 and other radioactive isotopes had poisoned soils at 7.5 million times the regulatory limit; radiation outside plant boundaries was equivalent to getting about seven chest X-rays per hour.47 Roughly 19 miles Northwest of FD, air-radiation readings were 0.8 mSv per hour; after 10 days of this exposure, IARC dose- response curves predict 1 in 5 fatal cancers of those exposed would be attributable to FD; two-months exposure would mean most fatal cancers were caused by FD. Such exposures are likely because many near-Fukushima residents were too poor to evacuate.20 Farther outside the evacuation zone—less than two weeks after the accident began—soil 25 miles Northwest of FD had cesium-137 levels ‘‘twice as high as the threshold for declaring areas uninhabitable around Chernobyl,’’ suggesting ‘‘the land might need to be abandoned.’’48 Not until a month after US and international agencies recommended expanding FD evacuation zones, did Japanese-government officials consider and reject expanding evacuation.49, 50 A second prima-facie reason for Fukushima DREI is that poor people, living near reactors, have higher probabilities of being hurt by both normal and disaster-related radiation releases. Reactors normally cause prima facie EI because they release allowable radiation that increases local cancers and mortality, especially among infants/ children.51–55 Because zero is the only safe dose of ionizing radiation (as the US National Academy of Sciences warns), its cumulative LNT (Linear, No Threshold for increased risk) effects are worst closer to reactors, where poor people live. The US EPA says even normal US radiation releases, between 1970–2020, could cause up to 24,000 additional US deaths.56,57 A third prima-facie reason for Fukushima DREI is that although nearby (poor) people bear both higher preaccident and post-accident risks, others receive little/no risks and most benefits. Wealthier Tokyo residents—140 miles away—received virtually all FD electricity, yet virtually no EI or DREI. A fourth prima-facie reason for DREI burdens on FD poor is that their poverty/powerlessness arguably forced them into EI and accepting reactor siting. Companies hoping to site nuclear facilities target economically depressed areas, both in Japan and elsewhere.17,58 Thus, although FD-owner Tokyo Electric Company (TECO) has long-term safety and ‘‘cover-up scandals,’’ Fukushima residents agreed to accept TECO reactors in exchange for cash. With Fukushima $121 million in debt, in 2007 it approved two new reactors in exchange for ‘‘$45 million from the government.60 percent’’ of total town revenue.17,59 Yet if economic hardship forced poor towns to accept reactors in exchange for basic-services monies, they likely gave no informed consent. Their choice was not voluntary, but coerced by their poverty. Massive Japanese-nuclear-industry PR and media ads also have thwarted risk-disclosure, thus consent, by minimizing nuclear risks.17,53,60–62 Scientists say neither industry nor government disclosed its failure to (1) test reactor-safety equipment; (2) thwart many natural-event disasters; (3) withstand seismic events worse than those that already had occurred; (4) withstand Fukushima-type disasters; (5) admit that new passive-safety reactors require electricity to cool cores and avoid catastrophe; or (6) base reactorsafety on anything but cost-benefit tests.17,53,60–62 Thus, because prima facie evidence suggests Fukushima poor people never consented to FD siting, they are EI victims whose reactor proximity caused them also to become DREI victims.
Nuclear power construction and mining emits carbon dioxide, poisoning the environment.
Sovacool, 07 Benjamin; Senior Research Fellow for the Virginia Center for Coal and Energy Research and professor of Government and International Affairs at Virginia Tech; “What's Really Wrong With Nuclear Power?”; 11/30; http://scitizen.com/stories/Future-Energies/2007/11/What-s-Really-Wrong-With-Nuclear-Power/; JLB (8/8/2016)
Third and finally, nuclear power plants are not carbon neutral. The Oxford Research Group concludes that the nuclear fuel cycle is responsible for emitting 84 to 122 grams of carbon dioxide per every kWh, mostly from uranium mining, plant construction, and plant decommissioning. The report also notes that these emissions are around half of that as natural gas plants (so we are talking about some serious carbon). In addition, the International Atomic Energy Agency notes that uranium is getting harder to mine, meaning that the carbon emissions related to nuclear will get worse as more uranium gets depleted, not better. This is because mining uranium ores of relatively low grades and greater depth is much more energy intensive. If world nuclear generating share remains what it is today, the Oxford Research Group concludes that by 2050 nuclear power would generate as much carbion dioxide per kWh as a comparable gas-fired power station.
This results in climate change which disproportionately hurts marginalized groups.
Cuomo ‘11
(Chris Professor of Philosophy and Women's Studies, and an affiliate faculty member of the Environmental Ethics Certificate Program and the Institute for African-American Studies. The author and editor of many articles and several books in feminist, postcolonial, and environmental philosophy, Cuomo served as Director of the Institute for Women's Studies from 2006-2009. Her book, The Philosopher Queen, a reflection on post-9/11 anti-war feminist politics, was nominated for a Lambda Award and an APA book award, and her work in ecofeminist philosophy and creative interdiciplinary practice has been influential among those seeking to bring together social justice and environmental concerns, as well as theory and practice. She has been a recipient of research grants from the Rockefeller Foundation, the National Science Foundation, the Ms. Foundation, the National Council for Research on Women, and the Institute for Sustainability and Technology Policy, and she has been a visiting faculty member at Cornell University, Amherst College, and Murdoch University in Perth, Australia, “Climate Change, Vulnerability, and Responsibility,” Hypatia 26 no4 Fall 2011 p. 690-714, AM)
The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina made it plain that structural inequalities produced by racism can determine who is most affected by severe weather events, and in turn disasters can greatly intensify social and political inequalities. In addition, within nearly any society the poorest and most vulnerable includes disproportionate numbers of females, people of color, and children. Research shows that large-scale disasters are especially devastating for those who lack economic and decision-making power, and that “economic insecurity is a key factor increasing the impact of disasters on women as caregivers, producers, and community actors” (Enarson 2000, viii). But economic security is not the only factor influencing female vulnerabilities. Existing social roles and divisions of labor can also set the stage for increased susceptibility to harm. The tsunami that struck Asia in late 2004 resulted in a much greater loss of life among women and girls in many locations, because women “stayed behind to look for their children and other relatives; men more often than women can swim; men more often than women can climb trees,” and at the time the waves struck, many men and boys were working in small boats or doing errands away from home (Oxfam 2005; see also American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists 2006). Extreme droughts, already occurring due to climate change, exacerbate gender inequalities in places where it is women’s and girls’ responsibility to gather daily water, for when water becomes more scarce, “many poor people, but particularly women and girls, will have to spend more time and energy fetching water from further away” (Stern 2009, 70). Physical hardship for women and girls is multiplied, but there are also auxiliary effects, such as decreased opportunities for girls to attend school and increased risk of assault (American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists 2006; Stern 2009; UN News Centre 2009). And wealthier high emitters with running water are not immune to such ecological pressures. In southeast Australia previously prosperous farmers are suffering due to reduced water availability and accompanying distribution policies. Women married to men in farming families report that their burden is greatly increased, because drought reduces farm income, and when wages are needed women find more opportunities for off-farm work. Some must travel far or temporarily relocate for employment, although their caretaking responsibilities remain. Male partners respond to the compounding impacts of loss of financial security, livelihood, and identity with increased incidences of depression and domestic violence (Alston 2008). Not surprisingly, their vulnerabilities are also shaped by norms of sex and gender.
That outweighs—addressing the structural harms of climate change requires no longer thinking of it as a one-time event.
Nixon ‘11 (Rob, Rachel Carson Professor of English, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor, pgs. 2-3)
Three primary concerns animate this book, chief among them my conviction that we urgently need to rethink-politically, imaginatively, and theoretically-what I call "slow violence." By slow violence I mean a violence that occurs gradually and out of sight, a violence of delayed destruction that is dispersed across time and space, an attritional violence that is typically not viewed as violence at all. Violence is customarily conceived as an event or action that is immediate in time, explosive and spectacular in space, and as erupting into instant sensational visibility. We need, I believe, to engage a different kind of violence, a violence that is neither spectacular nor instantaneous, but rather incremental and accretive, its calamitous repercussions playing out across a range of temporal scales. In so doing, we also need to engage the representational, narrative, and strategic challenges posed by the relative invisibility of slow violence. Climate change, the thawing cryosphere, toxic drift, biomagnification, deforestation, the radioactive aftermaths of wars, acidifying oceans, and a host of other slowly unfolding environmental catastrophes present formidable representational obstacles that can hinder our efforts to mobilize and act decisively. The long dyings-the staggered and staggeringly discounted casualties, both human and ecological that result from war's toxic aftermaths or climate change-are underrepresented in strategic planning as well as in human memory. Had Summers advocated invading Africa with weapons of mass destruction, his proposal would have fallen under conventional definitions of violence and been perceived as a military or even an imperial invasion. Advocating invading countries with mass forms of slow-motion toxicity, however, requires rethinking our accepted assumptions of violence to include slow violence. Such a rethinking requires that we complicate conventional assumptions about violence as a highly visible act that is newsworthy because it is event focused, time bound, and body bound. We need to account for how the temporal dispersion of slow violence affects the way we perceive and respond to a variety of social afflictions-from domestic abuse to posttraumatic stress and, in particular, environmental calamities. A major challenge is representational: how to devise arresting stories, images, and symbols adequate to the pervasive but elusive violence of delayed effects. Crucially, slow violence is often not just attritional but also exponential, operating as a major threat multiplier; it can fuel long-term, proliferating conflicts in situations where the conditions for sustaining life become increasingly but gradually degraded.
Nuclear energy contaminates surrounding water. Maintenance workers are exposed to severe radiation levels as corrosive nuclear waste is released into the coolant system.
Caldicott, ‘6
Helen, Founder, President -- Nuclear Policy Research Institute, “Nuclear Power is not the answer,” p. 58-9
Radioactive corrosion or activation products that are not the result of uranium fission are also produced, as neutrons bombard the metal piping and the reactor containment. These elements, which are powerfully radioactive, include cobalt 60, iron 55, nickel 63, radioactive manganese, niobium, zinc, and chromium. These materials slough off from the pipes into the primary coolant. Officially called CRUD, it is so intensely radioactive that it poses a severe hazard to maintenance workers and inspectors in certain areas of the reactor. 36 ¶ According to David Lochbaum, a nuclear engineer at the Union of Concerned Scientists, during shutdowns of reactors, the utilities not uncommonly flush out pipes, heat exchangers, etc., to remove highly radioactive CRUD build-up. Some of the CRUD is sent to radioactive waste dumps while some is released to the river, lake, or sea nearest the reactor. 37 ¶ Although the nuclear industry claims it is "emission" free, in fact it is collectively releasing millions of curies annually. Reports documenting gaseous and liquid radioactive releases vary enormously depending upon accidental and larger-than-normal routine releases. The Millstone One reactor in Connecticut alone released a remarkable 2.97 million curies of noble gases in 1975, whereas Nine Mile Point One released 1.3 million curies in 1975. In 1974, the total release from all reactors in the United States was 6.48 million curies, and in 1993 it ranged between 96,600 curies to 214,000 curies Releases vary according to equipment failure, which is variable and fickle. By contrast, coal plants release some uranium and uranium daughter products in their smoke but very little radiation compared to atomic plants, and certainly no fission products. ¶ The utilities also admit that about 12 gallons of intensely radioactive primary coolant leaks daily into the secondary coolant via the steam generator through breaks in the pipes. Some of these emissions, which occur when the steam is released to the air, are not even monitored? Likewise, about 4,000 gallons of primary coolant water are intentionally released to the environment on a daily basis, while some just leaks out unplanned. Many other emissions are simply not monitored.
And a meta-review of the literature indicates that PTSD and mental stress rates increased as a result of the Fukushima disaster
Harada et al 15 Nahoko Harada, Division of Nursing, School of Medicine, National Defense Medical College, “Mental health and psychological impacts from the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake Disaster: a systematic literature review,” Disaster and Military MedicineThe Journal of Prehospital, Trauma and Emergency Care, 2015
Our review compiled a wide array of mental health consequence following the Great East Japan Earthquake, an unprecedented compound disaster with a combination of earthquakes, tsunamis, and a series of nuclear accidents. A considerable proportion of the study population was mentally affected to a substantial degree, and mental health responses ranged from approximately one-tenth to nearly half of the respondents 12, 27. Mental health outcomes included, but were not limited to, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Physical health changes, such as sleep and eating disturbances, were also reported. Although every disaster is different, disasters are large-scale, stressful, and distressing events that affect a significant number of people. Those who experience higher exposure to traumatic events are likely to show higher mental health responses (i.e., dose–response relationship) 60. For the most people, these acute responses are normal and gradually decrease over time, but a small proportion of the affected individuals will suffer long-term mental health issues. In a review of 160 disaster mental health studies, proportions of subjects with severe impairment were 21.6  for natural disasters and 18.5  for technological disaster samples 6. The articles in this review had relatively higher mental health rates than in previous studies. This trend might be related to the high impact of this disaster as well as the GEJE study timing, because most of the studies were conducted among the direct victims within 2 years after the disaster. Long-term, longitudinal studies are evolving, and they will potentially be useful to understand the trajectories of mental health consequences among these people. In the region affected by the Fukushima nuclear disaster, invisible and imperceptible nature of radioactive materials has been challenged among the affected people. The residents’ responses were diverse and complex; along with high proportions of mental health distress among the Fukushima residents 46, concerns for radiation effect were a prominent concern especially among pregnant women and mothers of young children 43, 49, 61. Safety issues in food and outdoor activities, along with economic issues and distrust in information disclosure were also reported 43, 49. Public psychosocial responses such as discrimination and stigmatization were also reported 48, 56. These findings are in accordance with a series of Chernobyl studies where a complex relationship between radiation exposure and physical/mental health effect has been an ongoing debate. Physical outcome studies tend to be controversial, although firm evidence can be found only on the deaths of first responders due to acute radiation exposures and high prevalence of thyroid cancer among the exposed children 8. Still, psychosocial and economic disruptions to the affected people were significant, and the International Atomic Energy Agency regarded mental health as the major public health sequelae of the Chernobyl accident 62. Mothers of young children and plant clean-up workers were among the two groups of particular concern 63, 64, 65. Psychosocial issues included not only mental health disorders but also stigmatization and discrimination of the affected people 8, suggesting the importance of integrity and accuracy of information as well as risk communication strategies. Two Fukushima studies reported distress among internally displaced people 38, 41. Mandatory evacuation measures have been in place for the area surrounding the nuclear plant, and the evacuees potentially have uncertain and ambiguous perspectives on whether or not they will be able to return home 66. This trend was also compatible with Chernobyl studies reporting challenges in evacuation and resettlement 8. Future studies will be essential to clarify the effect of evacuation following nuclear disasters. Fukushima and Chernobyl studies suggest that substantial public health efforts are crucial to establish a system capable of such exposures. Integrity and accuracy of information will be a critical issue for the public to assess their health status. These studies also have implications for other “tangible” disasters, such as emergencies related to bio-chemical weapons and infectious diseases 67. Long-term studies will be important to increase the psychosocial impact among Fukushima residents, with special focus on children, mothers, and nuclear plant workers. A number of studies assessed a considerable degree of mental distress among disaster workers. This is likely to be owing to work-related exposures of these workers. In the case of GEJE, many of the workers were also local disaster victims, and had struggles as survivors along with their work-related exposures. This effect was prominent in several studies 51, 56, 57. Two worker studies identified experiences of being discriminated against and handling residents’ complaints as risk factors for their adverse mental health 56, 57. In the former study, the Fukushima nuclear plant workers became targets of public criticism because their company was blamed for their post-disaster mismanagement. In the latter, Miyagi Prefecture workers received direct complaints from their residents in a chaotic situation. These results might give hypotheses that mental health of disaster workers is susceptible to their stakeholder’s criticisms. Past literatures identified mortuary work as predictors of PTSD or physical symptoms among disaster workers 68, 69, but in our review, there has yet be an evidence that mortuary work was associated with adverse mental health 50, 51. Further studies will be needed to elucidate the relationship between dead body exposure and mental health outcomes among this population. Previous studies highlighted vulnerable populations for post-disaster mental health, such as children, evacuees, the bereaved, and individuals with preexisting physical/mental health conditions 5, 6. Our compilation overall shows a similar trend, although studies are relatively few, especially in the context of grief.
Mentally ill face social stigma in Japan
Ando et al 13 Shuntaro Ando, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, Tokyo Metropolitan Institute of Medical Science, Tokyo, Japan, “Review of mental-health-related stigma in Japan,” Psychiatry and Clinical Neurosciences, September 30, 2013  
In Japan, the general public's knowledge of mental illness was found to be relatively poor. Weakness of personality was most often seen as the cause for mental illness, rather than biological factors, such as heritability. A substantial number of Japanese people do not recognize that people with mental illness can recover. In addition, many people have negative attitudes towards people with mental illness, considering them dangerous and unpredictable. Not surprisingly, the majority of the general public in Japan keeps greater social distance from individuals with mental illness in close relationships. Schizophrenia is more stigmatized than depression, and the severity of the illness increases the stigmatizing attitude toward it. In terms of professionals' stigmatization, mental health staff who regularly and directly have contact with individuals with mental illness have less negative attitudes. This may be associated with their accumulation of contact with people who have recovered from mental illness. Compared to Taiwan and Australia, the stigma of mental illness was stronger in Japan, which might be due to institutionalism, the lack of implementation of national campaigns, and society's value of conformity. Although some education programs appeared to be effective in reducing mental-health-related stigma, we found key implications for future interventions. For example, both the general public and professionals need to:  eliminate the misunderstanding that mental illness is caused by personal faults; (ii) focus on the adverse effects of institutionalism; (iii) stress the importance of community care; and (iv) offer direct social contact with people with mental illness.

Part two is the advocacy
The national government of Japan should ban the production of nuclear power.
CCNE 13 Citizens’ Commission on Nuclear Energy, Organization Aiming at Fundamental Reform of Nuclear Energy Policy, “Our path to a nuclear-free Japan: an interim report Executive Summary,” October 2013
Given the Fukushima Nuclear Accident and the many shortcomings found in Japanese civil nuclear policies, Japan – under national consensus - should make it a national virtue to ban the use of atomic energy for power generation and to achieve a society free of nuclear power. A “society free of nuclear power” here means a status where decisions have been taken to decommission all existing nuclear reactors and the process of decommissioning has begun. In order to achieve a shift towards a sustainable energy system, a Fundamental Law on Energy Shift should be enacted. Further, administrative and financial reform should be carried out with the aim to overcome all the past problems associated with energy policies.
Part three is solvency
Japan hasn’t learned its lesson—the only nuclear power without suffering is no nuclear power at all.
Ripley 3/11 Will; award-winning correspondent for CNN, based at the network's Tokyo bureau.; CNN; Fukushima: Five years after Japan's worst nuclear disaster; http://www.cnn.com/2016/03/08/asia/fukushima-five-year-anniversary/; JLB (9/10/16)
The moratorium lasted until August 2015, when a reactor was restarted in Sendai, sparking protests outside the plant and Prime Minister Shinzo Abe's residence in Tokyo.¶ After the plant resumed operation, Abe said that it, and others in the process of being restarted, had passed "the world's toughest safety screening."¶ Public opinion is still firmly against nuclear and many Japanese politicians and commentators have criticized the government's decision to restart the reactors.¶ Prior to the disaster, around 70 of people supported nuclear energy, according to an official poll. That level dropped to below 36 after the Fukushima meltdown, with opposition to nuclear energy growing to up to 50 or even 70, according to polls by Japanese media.¶ Former Prime Minister Naoto Kan, in office during the crisis, is one of the highest-profile voices to come out against nuclear power, calling repeatedly on the government to change its course.¶ "The safest nuclear policy is not to have any plants at all," he told a parliamentary panel in 2012.¶ While the move back towards nuclear power has been justified on the grounds of the huge cost of importing fossil fuel energy, campaigners expressed disappointment that alternative options weren't explored.¶ "Renewable energy sources such as solar, wind and thermal have so much potential here," said Ai Kashiwagi, of Greenpeace Japan, after the Sendai plant was restarted.¶ Outside of the National Diet, opposition to nuclear power remains high. A February poll by broadcaster NHK found that only 20 thought the reactors should be restarted. Before the disaster, a majority of the country supported the nuclear industry.¶ Greenpeace's Vande Putte said that Japan hasn't "learned the lesson of Fukushima." He pointed to the reactors built in seismic zones, as well as the Sendai plant, which lies 30 kilometers from an active volcano.¶ "In Japan, there's no safe place for nuclear reactors. What we have seen at Fukushima Daiichi can happen at another reactor."¶ "The government should shut down all the nuclear reactors," said Fukushima survivor Toshiki Aso.¶ "I don't want anyone else to have to go through the same suffering we did."
19 reactors will be operational in Japan by 2018 by standard predictions.
WNN 7/28 World Nuclear News, “Japanese institute sees 19 reactor restarts by March 2018,” July 28 2016, http://www.world-nuclear-news.org/NP-Japanese-institute-sees-19-reactor-restarts-by-March-2018-2807164.html
Seven Japanese nuclear power reactors are likely to be in operation by the end of next March and 12 more one year later, according to an estimate by the Institute of Energy Economics, Japan (IEEJ). Judicial rulings and local consents will influence the rate of restart, it notes. In its Economic and Energy Outlook of Japan Through 2017, the IEEJ has considered the economic and environmental impacts in financial years 2016 and 2017 (ending March 2017 and 2018, respectively) of various scenarios for the restart of reactors in Japan. The organization estimates that if restarts take place according to the current schedule - the "reference scenario" - seven reactors could restart by the end of FY2016 (ending March 2017). By the end of FY2017, 19 units could be restarted, generating some 119.8 TWh of electricity annually, comfchecpared with total nuclear output of 288.2 TWh in FY2010, the year prior to the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi plant. Under this scenario, compared with FY2010, total spending on fossil fuel imports in FY2017 decreases by JPY4.7 trillion ($45 billion), while the electricity cost - including fuel costs, feed-in tariffs and grid stabilization costs - increases by about JPY100/MWh. Relative to the same period, energy-related carbon dioxide emissions to 1094 million tonnes CO2. According to the IEEJ, energy-related emissions reached a historical high of 1235 million tonnes CO2 in FY2013. The IEEJ's high-case scenario assumes a total of 25 units are restarted by the end of FY2017, generating 151.2 TWh annually, with total fossil fuel imports spending decreasing by JPY0.7 trillion relative to the low-case scenario where only 12 reactors are assumed to restart, producing 39.1 TWh. In the high-case scenario, the average electricity unit cost is lowered by about JPY600/MWh and energy-related emissions decrease by 52 million tonnes CO2.
Japan is meeting emissions requirements—shifting from coal towards renewables.
Levit 6/17 Donald; strategist; Economic Calendar; 6/17/16; “Japan Burning Record Amount of Coal Instead of Relying on Nuclear Power”; http://www.economiccalendar.com/2016/06/17/japan-burning-record-amount-of-coal-instead-of-relying-on-nuclear-power/; JLB (8/17/16)
The concern about Japan’s hefty use of coal is that if international agreements to curb the use of coal come with hefty fines and fees to coal users, than Japan’s high use of coal could have a major economic impact on the country over the longer-term. Some of Japan’s powerful trading houses are cutting or freezing coal investments over concerns about the environmental and economic fallout. Japan recently gave environmental approval to three more coal-fired power plants out of 45 planned. This agreement came even after the country agreed at last year’s UN climate conference to cut carbon emissions by 26 by 2030 from its 2013 levels. Even though the country has increased coal use, it has promised that it will make its thermal power stations more efficient to meet its global emissions commitments. The country is also increasing its use of renewable energy; Japan is now the third largest solar power user in the world.

Japan’s business lobby is pushing for renewables—no long term shift to coal, heavily relies on imports.
Brown 6/22 Lincoln; former News and Program Director for KVEL radio; Oil Price; 6/22/16; “Japan’s Business Lobby Calls For A Shift From Nuclear Power To Renewables”; http://oilprice.com/Latest-Energy-News/World-News/Japans-Business-Lobby-Calls-For-A-Shift-From-Nuclear-Power-To-Renewables.html; JLB (8/17/16)
Japan must look toward renewable energy instead of nuclear power for its power needs, Teruo Asada, vice chairman of the Japan Association of Corporate Executives, has said, since the chances are slim that Japan will be able to return to the levels of nuclear power that existed before the Fukushima accident in 2011. The Abe administration has the goal of using nuclear energy for a fifth of the country’s power needs by 2030. So far, only 42 operable reactors have started operation. Asada stated: "We have a sense of crisis that Japan will become a laughing stock if we do not encourage renewable power." Asada also commented that for the long term, Japan needs to lower its dependence on nuclear power, predicting that it might not comprise 10 percent of the country’s energy supply. He said that the association is calling for measures to encourage private investment in renewable energy and public funding for the necessary infrastructure. Asada’s comments come as legal challenges and public opinion haunt efforts to restart the nuclear plant. Japan’s government and business sector had supported nuclear energy as an alternative to fossil fuels, which must be imported. Renewable energy accounted for 14.3 percent of the country’s power up to March of this year.
Nuclear power can’t solve warming – it would require one reactor a week for 52 years
Caldicott 6 Helen; Founder and President of the Nuclear Policy Research Institute; “Nuclear Power is not the answer”; JLB (8/8/2016)
Setting aside the energetic costs of the whole fuel cycle, and looking just at the Nuclear Industry's claim that what transpires in the nuclear plants is "clean and green," the following conditions would have to be met for nuclear power actually to make the substantial contribution to reducing greenhouse gas emissions that the industry claims is possible (this analysis assumes 2 or more growth in global electricity demand): •All present-day nuclear power plants-441-would have to be replaced by new ones. •Half the electricity growth would have to be provided by nuclear power. •Half of all the world's coal fired plants would have to be replaced by nuclear power plants.28 This would mean the construction over the next fifty years of some 2,000 to 3,000 nuclear reactors of 1,000 megawatt size-one per week for fifty years! Considering the eight to ten years it takes to construct a new reactor and the finite supply of uranium fuel, such an enterprise is simply not viable.

Part four is framework
The standard is mitigating structural violence.
1 Structural violence is based in moral exclusion, it pervades our cognitive processes and encourages us to ignore differences in identity.
Winter and Leighton 99 Deborah DuNann Winter and Dana C. Leighton. Winter|Psychologist that specializes in Social Psych, Counseling Psych, Historical and Contemporary Issues, Peace Psychology. Leighton: PhD graduate student in the Psychology Department at the University of Arkansas. Knowledgable in the fields of social psychology, peace psychology, and justice and intergroup responses to transgressions of justice “Peace, conflict, and violence: Peace psychology in the 21st century.” Pg 4-5
She argues that our normal perceptual cognitive processes divide people into in-groups and out-groups. Those outside our group lie outside our scope of justice. Injustice that would be instantaneously confronted if it occurred to someone we love or know is barely noticed if it occurs to strangers or those who are invisible or irrelevant. We do not seem to be able to open our minds and our hearts to everyone, so we draw conceptual lines between those who are in and out of our moral circle. Those who fall outside are morally excluded, and become either invisible, or demeaned in some way so that we do not have to acknowledge the injustice they suffer. Moral exclusion is a human failing, but Opotow argues convincingly that it is an outcome of everyday social cognition. To reduce its nefarious effects, we must be vigilant in noticing and listening to oppressed, invisible, outsiders. Inclusionary thinking can be fostered by relationships, communication, and appreciation of diversity. Like Opotow, all the authors in this section point out that structural violence is not inevitable if we become aware of its operation, and build systematic ways to mitigate its effects. Learning about structural violence may be discouraging, overwhelming, or maddening, but these papers encourage us to step beyond guilt and anger, and begin to think about how to reduce structural violence. All the authors in this section note that the same structures (such as global communication and normal social cognition) which feed structural violence, can also be used to empower citizens to reduce it. In the long run, reducing structural violence by reclaiming neighborhoods, demanding social justice and living wages, providing prenatal care, alleviating sexism, and celebrating local cultures, will be our most surefooted path to building lasting peace.
2 Debate should surround material consequences—ideal theories ignore the concrete nature of the world and legitimize oppression.
Curry 14 Dr. Tommy J; “The Cost of a Thing: A Kingian Reformulation of a Living Wage Argument in the 21st Century”, Victory Briefs, 2014
Despite the pronouncement of debate as an activity and intellectual exercise pointing to the real world consequences of dialogue, thinking, and (personal) politics when addressing issues of racism, sexism, economic disparity, global conflicts, and death, many of the discussions concerning these ongoing challenges to humanity are fixed to a paradigm which sees the adjudication of material disparities and sociological realities as the conquest of one ideal theory over the other. In “Ideal Theory as Ideology,” Charles Mills outlines the problem contemporary theoretical-performance styles in policy debate and value-weighing in Lincoln-Douglass are confronted with in their attempts to get at the concrete problems in our societies. At the outset, Mills concedes that “ideal theory applies to moral theory as a whole (at least to normative ethics as against metaethics); since ethics deals by definition with normative/prescriptive/evaluative issues, it is set against factual/descriptive issues.” At the most general level, the conceptual chasm between what emerges as actual problems in the world (e.g.: racism, sexism, poverty, disease, etc.) and how we frame such problems theoretically—the assumptions and shared ideologies we depend upon for our problems to be heard and accepted as a worthy “problem” by an audience—is the most obvious call for an anti-ethical paradigm, since such a paradigm insists on the actual as the basis of what can be considered normatively. Mills, however, describes this chasm as a problem of an ideal-as-descriptive model which argues that for any actual-empirical-observable social phenomenon (P), an ideal of (P) is necessarily a representation of that phenomenon. In the idealization of a social phenomenon (P), one “necessarily has to abstract away from certain features” of (P) that is observed before abstraction occurs. ¶ This gap between what is actual (in the world), and what is represented by theories and politics of debaters proposed in rounds threatens any real discussions about the concrete nature of oppression and the racist economic structures which necessitate tangible policies and reorienting changes in our value orientations.
3 Global justice requires a reduction in inequality and a focus on material rights.
Okereke 07 Chukwumerije Okereke (Senior Research Associate at the Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research at the University of East Anglia). Global Justice and Neoliberal Environmental Governance. Routledge 2007
Notwithstanding these drawbacks, these scholars provide very compelling arguments against mainstream conceptions of justice. In this approach, the obli- gation of justice is derived from the moral equality of human beings irrespective of their race, creed and nationality (O'Neill 1991; Brown 1992: 169; Beitz 1979; Sen 1999). The emphasis is on the positive rights of citizens - that is the kinds of rights that require state authorities to do something in order to provide citizens with the opportunities and abilities to act to fulfil their own potential - as opposed to negative rights/liberty, which refers to freedom from coercion and non-interfer- ence. The notion of justice as meeting needs, as seen in Chapter 2, figures very prominently in quite a number of the influencing materials that form the starting point for the discourse on global sustainable development. It has been suggested, in general, that this idea of justice is 'in-------------creasingly influential on non-governmen- tal organizations and the community of international policy makers' (Brighouse 2004: 67). In general, proponents of justice as need criticize liberal ideas of justice for concentrating on political equality (equal right to speech, vote, etc.) without addressing the problem of material equality - especially in the form of equal access to resources. They also claim that the ability to own property as well as the ability to exercise political rights (say the right to vote) depends first and foremost on the ability of citizens to function effectively. When the basic human needs of citizens, for example food, are not being met, other rights become merely 'hypothetical and empty' (Sen 1999: 75). Following on from this basic reasoning, the rights approach to justice is rejected and, in its place, human basic need is seen as the correct basis of political morality and the right benchmark for the determination of political judgment (Plant 1991: 185). In previous sections we saw that libertarian notions of justice sanction unlimited material inequality between citizens, provided that each person has obtained their possessions through legitimate means. All that matters is that the state should ensure fair rules of transitions and equality before the law. We saw also that liberal accounts of justice, especially Rawls' liberal egalitarianism, reject this formula- tion of justice because it does not secure the welfare of the less able in society. On the contrary, Rawls recommends that political institutions should be structured in ways that protect the interests of the least advantaged individuals in society. Accordingly, he sanctions societal inequities provided that such inequities work to the advantage of the least well-off. On closer reading, however, it turns out that Rawls difference principle (that inequities should work in favour of the least well- off) does not contain any explicit demand relating to the basic needs of the poor. As such, it is possible for Rawls' proviso to be met even when the least well-off in the society are denied their basic needs. For example, a distribution that changes from 20:10:2 to 100:30:4 satisfies Rawls difference principle but tells us noth- ing about the actual well-being of the least well-off. So, whereas some (mainly libertarians) criticize Rawls for not specifying the extent to which other people's liberty can be sacrificed for the sake of the least well-off, others (proponents of justice as meeting need) criticize Rawls for leaving the fate of the least well-off unprotected. Many scholars in the latter group sometimes argue along Marxian lines that as long as the means of production remain in the hands of the 'haves' there is no guarantee that inequities will benefit the least well-off. Maslow (1968), Bradshaw (1972) and Forder (1974) have all consequently argued that only the theory of need provides, as Maslow (1968: 4) puts it, 'the ultimate appeal for the determination of the good, bad, right and wrong' in a po- litical community. Without the theory of need, they say, it would be impossible to justify the welfare state in capitalist Western democracies. On the other hand, the co-existence of welfare and capitalism confirms the place of need as the criterion of moral political judgment. O'Neill (1991), Sen (1999) and Nussbaum (2000) have all extended versions of this argument to the international domain. O'Neill (1980, 1991) argues that adherence to the Kantian categorical imperative entails that the global community must act to remove the aching poverty and famine that threaten the existence of millions of people in developing countries. Sen (1999), for his part, calls for the strengthening of international institutions to make them able to assist the least well in the global society to achieve the measure of actual living that is required for the basic function and well-being of citizens. For Sen, as for O'Neill, all forms of liberty and rights are meaningful only when people have the substantive 'freedom to achieve actual living' (Sen 1999: 73; cf. O'Neill 1989: 288; 1986). Thomas Pogge also places emphasis on human basic need and starts his well-known book World Poverty and Human Rights with the rhetorical ques- tion: 'How can severe poverty of half of humankind continue despite enormous economic and technological progress and despite the enlightened moral norms and values of our heavily dominant Western civilization?' (Pogge 2002: 3). 

4 No act omission distinction for states.
Sunstein Cass R. Sunstein and Adrian Vermeule. The University of Chicago Law School. “Is Capital Punishment Morally Required? The Relevance of Life‐Life Tradeoffs.” JOHN M. OLIN LAW and ECONOMICS WORKING PAPER NO. 239. The Chicago Working Paper Series. March 2005
In our view, both the argument from causation and the argument from intention go wrong by overlooking the distinctive features of government as a moral agent. Whatever the general status of the act-omission distinction as a matter of moral philosophy,38 the distinction is least impressive when applied to government.39 The most fundamental point is that unlike individuals, governments always and necessarily face a choice between or among possible policies for regulating third parties. The distinction between acts and omissions may not be intelligible in this context, and even if it is, the distinction does not make a morally relevant difference. Most generally, government is in the business of creating permissions and prohibitions. When it explicitly or implicitly authorizes private action, it is not omitting to do anything, or refusing to act.40 Moreover, the distinction between authorized and unauthorized private action—for example, private killing—becomes obscure when the government formally forbids private action, but chooses a set of policy instruments that do not adequately or fully discourage it.
Part 5: Underview 

1. Prefer reasonable aff interps and drop the argument on T. The judge should use reasonability with a bright line of the presence of link and impact turn ground for the negative. Since he has equal access to offense, there’s no abuse because structural access to the ballot is the same. 

Social injustice is the root of mass-scale violence – it primes society for external violence.
 Scheper-Hughes 04 (Scheper-Hughes 4 (Prof of Anthropology @ Cal-Berkely; Prof of Anthropology @ UPenn) (Nancy and Philippe, Introduction: Making Sense of Violence, in Violence in War and Peace, pg. 19-22)
This large and at first sight “messy” Part VII is central to this anthology’s thesis. It encompasses everything from the routinized, bureaucratized, and utterly banal violence of children dying of hunger and maternal despair in Northeast Brazil (Scheper-Hughes, Chapter 33) to elderly African Americans dying of heat stroke in Mayor Daly’s version of US apartheid in Chicago’s South Side (Klinenberg, Chapter 38) to the racialized class hatred expressed by British Victorians in their olfactory disgust of the “smelly” working classes (Orwell, Chapter 36). In these readings violence is located in the symbolic and social structures that overdetermine and allow the criminalized drug addictions, interpersonal bloodshed, and racially patterned incarcerations that characterize the US “inner city” to be normalized (Bourgois, Chapter 37 and Wacquant, Chapter 39). Violence also takes the form of class, racial, political self-hatred and adolescent self-destruction (Quesada, Chapter 35), as well as of useless (i.e.  preventable), rawly embodied physical suffering, and death (Farmer, Chapter 34).  Absolutely central to our approach is a blurring of categories and distinctions between wartime and peacetime violence. Close attention to the “little” violences produced in the structures, habituses, and mentalites of everyday life shifts our attention to pathologies of class, race, and gender inequalities. More important, it interrupts the voyeuristic tendencies of “violence studies” that risk publicly humiliating the powerless who are often forced into complicity with social and individual pathologies of power because suffering is often a solvent of human integrity and dignity. Thus, in this anthology we are positing a violence continuum comprised of a multitude of “small wars and invisible genocides” (see also Scheper- Hughes 1996; 1997; 2000b) conducted in the normative social spaces of public schools, clinics, emergency rooms, hospital wards, nursing homes, courtrooms, public registry offices, prisons, detention centers, and public morgues. The violence continuum also refers to the ease with which humans are capable of reducing the socially vulnerable into expendable nonpersons and assuming the license - even the duty - to kill, maim, or soul-murder. We realize that in referring to a violence and a genocide continuum we are flying in the face of a tradition of genocide studies that argues for the absolute uniqueness of the Jewish Holocaust and for vigilance with respect to restricted purist use of the term genocide itself (see Kuper 1985; Chaulk 1999; Fein 1990; Chorbajian 1999). But we hold an opposing and alternative view that, to the contrary, it is absolutely necessary to make just such existential leaps in purposefully linking violent acts in normal times to those of abnormal times. Hence the title of our volume: Violence in War and in Peace. If (as we concede) there is a moral risk in overextending the concept of “genocide” into spaces and corners of everyday life where we might not ordinarily think to find it (and there is), an even greater risk lies in failing to sensitize ourselves, in misrecognizing protogenocidal practices and sentiments daily enacted as normative behavior by “ordinary” good-enough citizens. Peacetime crimes, such as prison construction sold as economic development to impoverished communities in the mountains and deserts of California, or the evolution of the criminal industrial complex into the latest peculiar institution for managing race relations in the United States (Waquant, Chapter 39), constitute the “small wars and invisible genocides” to which we refer. This applies to African American and Latino youth mortality statistics in Oakland, California, Baltimore, Washington DC, and New York City. These are “invisible” genocides not because they are secreted away or hidden from view, but quite the opposite.  As Wittgenstein observed, the things that are hardest to perceive are those which are right before our eyes and therefore taken for granted. In this regard, Bourdieu’s partial and unfinished theory of violence (see Chapters 32 and 42) as well as his concept of misrecognition is crucial to our task. By including the normative everyday forms of violence hidden in the minutiae of “normal” social practices - in the architecture of homes, in gender relations, in communal work, in the exchange of gifts, and so forth - Bourdieu forces us to reconsider the broader meanings and status of violence, especially the links between the violence of everyday life and explicit political terror and state repression, Similarly, Basaglia’s notion of “peacetime crimes” - crimini di pace - imagines a direct relationship between wartime and peacetime violence. Peacetime crimes suggests the possibility that war crimes are merely ordinary, everyday crimes of public consent applied systematically and dramatically in the extreme context of war. Consider the parallel uses of rape during peacetime and wartime, or the family resemblances between the legalized violence of US immigration and naturalization border raids on “illegal aliens” versus the US government- engineered genocide in 1938, known as the Cherokee “Trail of Tears.” Peacetime crimes suggests that everyday forms of state violence make a certain kind of domestic peace possible.  Internal “stability” is purchased with the currency of peacetime crimes, many of which take the form of professionally applied “strangle-holds.” Everyday forms of state violence during peacetime make a certain kind of domestic “peace” possible. It is an easy-to-identify peacetime crime that is usually maintained as a public secret by the government and by a scared or apathetic populace. Most subtly, but no less politically or structurally, the phenomenal growth in the United States of a new military, postindustrial prison industrial complex has taken place in the absence of broad-based opposition, let alone collective acts of civil disobedience. The public consensus is based primarily on a new mobilization of an old fear of the mob, the mugger, the rapist, the Black man, theundeserving poor. How many public executions of mentally deficient prisoners in the United States are needed to make life feel more secure for the affluent? What can it possibly mean when incarceration becomes the “normative” socializing experience for ethnic minority youth in a society, i.e., over 33 percent of young African American men (Prison Watch 2002).  In the end it is essential that we recognize the existence of a genocidal capacity among otherwise good-enough humans and that we need to exercise a defensive hypervigilance to the less dramatic, permitted, and even rewarded everyday acts of violence that render participation in genocidal acts and policies possible (under adverse political or economic conditions), perhaps more easily than we would like to recognize. Under the violence continuum we include, therefore, all expressions of radical social exclusion, dehumanization, depersonalization, pseudospeciation, and reification which normalize atrocious behavior and violence toward others. 

A constant self-mobilization for alarm, a state of constant hyperarousal is, perhaps, a reasonable response to Benjamin’s view of late modern history as a chronic “state of emergency” (Taussig, Chapter 31). We are trying to recover here the classic anagogic thinking that enabled Erving Goffman, Jules Henry, C. Wright Mills, and Franco Basaglia among other mid-twentieth-century radically critical thinkers, to perceive the symbolic and structural relations, i.e., between inmates and patients, between concentration camps, prisons, mental hospitals, nursing homes, and other “total institutions.” Making that decisive move to recognize the continuum of violence allows us to see the capacity and the willingness - if not enthusiasm - of ordinary people, the practical technicians of the social consensus, to enforce genocidal-like crimes against categories of rubbish people. There is no primary impulse out of which mass violence and genocide areborn, it is ingrained in the common sense of everyday social life.  The mad, the differently abled, the mentally vulnerable have often fallen into this category of the unworthy living, as have the very old and infirm, the sick-poor, and, of course, the despised racial, religious, sexual, and ethnic groups of the moment. Erik Erikson referred to “pseudo- speciation” as the human tendency to classify some individuals or social groups as less than fully human a prerequisite to genocide and one that is carefully honed during the unremarkable peacetimes that precede the sudden, “seemingly unintelligible” outbreaks of mass violence. Collective denial and misrecognition are prerequisites for mass violence and genocide. But so are formal bureaucratic structures and professional roles. The practical technicians of everyday violence in the backlands of Northeast Brazil (Scheper-Hughes, Chapter 33), for example, include the clinic doctors who prescribe powerful tranquilizers to fretful and frightfully hungry babies, the Catholic priests who celebrate the death of “angel-babies,” and the municipal bureaucrats who dispense free baby coffins but no food to hungry families.  Everyday violence encompasses the implicit, legitimate, and routinized forms of violence inherent in particular social, economic, and political formations. It is close to what Bourdieu (1977, 1996) means by “symbolic violence,” the violence that is often “nus-recognized” for something else, usually something good. Everyday violence is similar to what Taussig (1989) calls “terror as usual.” All these terms are meant to reveal a public secret - the hidden links between violence in war and violence in peace, and between war crimes and “peace-time crimes.” Bourdieu (1977) finds domination and violence in the least likely places - in courtship and marriage, in the exchange of gifts, in systems of classification, in style, art, and culinary taste- the various uses of culture. Violence, Bourdieu insists, is everywhere in social practice. It is misrecognized because its very everydayness and its familiarity render it invisible. Lacan identifies “rneconnaissance” as the prerequisite of the social. The exploitation of bachelor sons, robbing them of autonomy, independence, and progeny, within the structures of family farming in the European countryside that Bourdieu escaped is a case in point (Bourdieu, Chapter 42; see also Scheper-Hughes, 2000b; Favret-Saada, 1989).  Following Gramsci, Foucault, Sartre, Arendt, and other modern theorists of power-vio- lence, Bourdieu treats direct aggression and physical violence as a crude, uneconomical mode of domination; it is less efficient and, according to Arendt (1969), it is certainly less legitimate.  While power and symbolic domination are not to be equated with violence - and Arendt argues persuasively that violence is to be understood as a failure of power - violence, as we are presenting it here, is more than simply the expression of illegitimate physical force against a person or group of persons. Rather, we need to understand violence as encompassing all forms of “controlling processes” (Nader 1997b) that assault basic human freedoms and individual or collective survival. Our task is to recognize these gray zones of violence which are, by definition, not obvious. Once again, the point of bringing into the discourses on genocide everyday, normative experiences of reification, depersonalization, institutional confinement, and acceptable death is to help answer the question: What makes mass violence and genocide possible? In this volume we are suggesting that mass violence is part of a continuum, and that it is socially incremental and often experienced by perpetrators, collaborators, bystanders - and even by victims themselves - as expected, routine, even justified. The preparations for mass killing can be found in social sentiments and institutions from the family, to schools, churches, hospitals, and the military. They harbor the early “warning signs” (Charney 1991), the “priming” (as Hinton, ed., 2002 calls it), or the “genocidal continuum” (as we call it) that push social consensus toward devaluing certain forms of human life and lifeways from the refusal of social support and humane care to vulnerable “social parasites” (the nursing home elderly, “welfare queens,” undocumented immigrants, drug addicts) to the militarization of everyday life (super-maximum-security prisons, capital punishment; the technologies of heightened personal security, including the house gun and gated communities; and reversed feelings of victimization).
No great power war---deterrence, economic interdependence, political and business elites and social changes
Aziz 14 John, former economics and business editor at TheWeek.com, Don't worry: World War III will almost certainly never happen, March 6, http://theweek.com/article/index/257517/dont-worry-world-war-iii-will-almost-certainly-never-happen
Next year will be the seventieth anniversary of the end of the last global conflict. There have been points on that timeline — such as the Cuban missile crisis in 1962, and a Soviet computer malfunction in 1983 that erroneously suggested that the U.S. had attacked, and perhaps even the Kosovo War in 1999 — when a global conflict was a real possibility. Yet today — in the shadow of a flare up which some are calling a new Cold War between Russia and the U.S. — I believe the threat of World War III has almost faded into nothingness. That is, the probability of a world war is the lowest it has been in decades, and perhaps the lowest it has ever been since the dawn of modernity.¶ This is certainly a view that current data supports. Steven Pinker's studies into the decline of violence reveal that deaths from war have fallen and fallen since World War II. But we should not just assume that the past is an accurate guide to the future. Instead, we must look at the factors which have led to the reduction in war and try to conclude whether the decrease in war is sustainable.¶ So what's changed? Well, the first big change after the last world war was the arrival of mutually assured destruction. It's no coincidence that the end of the last global war coincided with the invention of atomic weapons. The possibility of complete annihilation provided a huge disincentive to launching and expanding total wars. Instead, the great powers now fight proxy wars like Vietnam and Afghanistan (the 1980 version, that is), rather than letting their rivalries expand into full-on, globe-spanning struggles against each other. Sure, accidents could happen, but the possibility is incredibly remote. More importantly, nobody in power wants to be the cause of Armageddon.¶ But what about a non-nuclear global war? Other changes — economic and social in nature — have made that highly unlikely too.¶ The world has become much more economically interconnected since the last global war. Economic cooperation treaties and free trade agreements have intertwined the economies of countries around the world. This has meant there has been a huge rise in the volume of global trade since World War II, and especially since the 1980s.¶ Today consumer goods like smartphones, laptops, cars, jewelery, food, cosmetics, and medicine are produced on a global level, with supply-chains criss-crossing the planet. An example: The laptop I am typing this on is the cumulative culmination of thousands of hours of work, as well as resources and manufacturing processes across the globe. It incorporates metals like tellurium, indium, cobalt, gallium, and manganese mined in Africa. Neodymium mined in China. Plastics forged out of oil, perhaps from Saudi Arabia, or Russia, or Venezuela. Aluminum from bauxite, perhaps mined in Brazil. Iron, perhaps mined in Australia. These raw materials are turned into components — memory manufactured in Korea, semiconductors forged in Germany, glass made in the United States. And it takes gallons and gallons of oil to ship all the resources and components back and forth around the world, until they are finally assembled in China, and shipped once again around the world to the consumer.¶ In a global war, global trade becomes a nightmare. Shipping becomes more expensive due to higher insurance costs, and riskier because it's subject to seizures, blockades, ship sinkings. Many goods, intermediate components or resources — including energy supplies like coal and oil, components for military hardware, etc, may become temporarily unavailable in certain areas. Sometimes — such as occurred in the Siege of Leningrad during World War II — the supply of food can be cut off. This is why countries hold strategic reserves of things like helium, pork, rare earth metals and oil, coal, and gas. These kinds of breakdowns were troublesome enough in the economic landscape of the early and mid-20th century, when the last global wars occurred. But in today's ultra-globalized and ultra-specialized economy? The level of economic adaptation — even for large countries like Russia and the United States with lots of land and natural resources — required to adapt to a world war would be crushing, and huge numbers of business and livelihoods would be wiped out.¶ In other words, global trade interdependency has become, to borrow a phrase from finance, too big to fail.¶ It is easy to complain about the reality of big business influencing or controlling politicians. But big business has just about the most to lose from breakdowns in global trade. A practical example: If Russian oligarchs make their money from selling gas and natural resources to Western Europe, and send their children to schools in Britain and Germany, and lend and borrow money from the West's financial centers, are they going to be willing to tolerate Vladimir Putin starting a regional war in Eastern Europe (let alone a world war)? Would the Chinese financial industry be happy to see their multi-trillion dollar investments in dollars and U.S. treasury debt go up in smoke? Of course, world wars have been waged despite international business interests, but the world today is far more globalized than ever before and well-connected domestic interests are more dependent on access to global markets, components and resources, or the repayment of foreign debts. These are huge disincentives to global war.

Abstract questioning is useless - debate should seek to design concrete alternatives.
Bryant 12 (EDITED FOR GENDERED LANGUAGE – the author said “she” and it was replaced with the word “to” – Levi Bryant is currently a Professor of Philosophy at Collin College. In addition to working as a professor, Bryant has also served as a Lacanian psychoanalyst. He received his Ph.D. from Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois, where he originally studied 'disclosedness' with the Heidegger scholar Thomas Sheehan. Bryant later changed his dissertation topic to the transcendental empiricism of Gilles Deleuze,  “Critique of the Academic Left”, http://larvalsubjects.wordpress.com/2012/11/11/underpants-gnomes-a-critique-of-the-academic-left/)
I must be in a mood today– half irritated, half amused –because I find myself ranting. Of course, that’s not entirely unusual. So this afternoon I came across a post by a friend quoting something discussing the environmental movement that pushed all the right button. As the post read,¶ For mainstream environmentalism– conservationism, green consumerism, and resource management –humans are conceptually separated out of nature and mythically placed in privileged positions of authority and control over ecological communities and their nonhuman constituents. What emerges is the fiction of a marketplace of ‘raw materials’ and ‘resources’ through which human-centered wants, constructed as needs, might be satisfied. The mainstream narratives are replete with such metaphors carbon trading!. Natural complexity _{mutuality, and diversity are rendered virtually meaningless given discursive parameters that reduce nature to discrete units of exchange measuring extractive capacities. Jeff Shantz, “Green Syndicalism”¶ While finding elements this description perplexing– I can’t say that I see many environmentalists treating nature and culture as distinct or suggesting that we’re sovereigns of nature –I do agree that we conceive much of our relationship to the natural world in economic terms (not a surprise that capitalism is today a universal). This, however, is not what bothers me about this passage.¶ What I wonder is just what we’re supposed to do even if all of this is true? What, given existing conditions, are we to do if all of this is right? At least green consumerism, conservation, resource management, and things like carbon trading are engaging in activities that are making real differences. From this passage– and maybe the entire text would disabuse me of this conclusion –it sounds like we are to reject all of these interventions because they remain tied to a capitalist model of production that the author (and myself) find abhorrent. The idea seems to be that if we endorse these things we are tainting our hands and would therefore do well to reject them altogether. The problem as I see it is that this is the worst sort of abstraction (in the Marxist sense) and wishful thinking. Within a Marxo-Hegelian context, a thought is abstract when it ignores all of the mediations in which a thing is embedded. For example, I understand a robust tree abstractly when I attribute its robustness, say, to its genetics alone, ignoring the complex relations to its soil, the air, sunshine, rainfall, etc., that also allowed it to grow robustly in this way. This is the sort of critique we’re always leveling against the neoliberals. They are abstract thinkers. In their doxa that individuals are entirely responsible for themselves and that they completely make themselves by pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, neoliberals ignore all the mediations belonging to the social and material context in which human beings develop that play a role in determining the vectors of their life. They ignore, for example, that George W. Bush grew up in a family that was highly connected to the world of business and government and that this gave him opportunities that someone living in a remote region of Alaska in a very different material infrastructure and set of family relations does not have. To think concretely is to engage in a cartography of these mediations, a mapping of these networks, from circumstance to circumstance (what I call an “onto-cartography”). It is to map assemblages, networks, or ecologies in the constitution of entities.¶ Unfortunately, the academic left falls prey to its own form of abstraction. It’s good at carrying out critiques that denounce various social formations, yet very poor at proposing any sort of realistic constructions of alternatives. This because it thinks abstractly in its own way, ignoring how networks, assemblages, structures, or regimes of attraction would have to be remade to create a workable alternative. Here I’m reminded by the “underpants gnomes” depicted in South Park:¶ The underpants gnomes have a plan for achieving profit that goes like this: Phase 1: Collect Underpants Phase 2: ? Phase 3: Profit! They even have a catchy song to go with their work:¶ Well this is sadly how it often is with the academic left. Our plan seems to be as follows: Phase 1: Ultra-Radical Critique Phase 2: ? Phase 3: Revolution and complete social transformation! Our problem is that we seem perpetually stuck at phase 1 without ever explaining what is to be done at phase 2. Often the critiques articulated at phase 1 are right, but there are nonetheless all sorts of problems with those critiques nonetheless. In order to reach phase 3, we have to produce new collectives}

. In order for new collectives to be produced, people need to be able to hear and understand the critiques developed at phase 1. Yet this is where everything begins to fall apart. Even though these critiques are often right, we express them in ways that only an academic with a PhD in critical theory and post-structural theory can understand. How exactly is Adorno to produce an effect in the world if only PhD’s in the humanities can understand him? Who are these things for? We seem to always ignore these things and then look down our noses with disdain at the Naomi Kleins and David Graebers of the world. To make matters worse, we publish our work in expensive academic journals that only universities can afford, with presses that don’t have a wide distribution, and give our talks at expensive hotels at academic conferences attended only by other academics. Again, who are these things for? Is it an accident that so many activists look away from these things with contempt, thinking their more about an academic industry and tenure, than producing change in the world? If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, it doesn’t make a sound! Seriously dudes and dudettes, what are you doing?¶ But finally, and worst of all, us Marxists and anarchists all too often act like assholes. We denounce others, we condemn them, we berate them for not engaging with the questions we want to engage with, and we vilify them when they don’t embrace every bit of the doxa that we endorse. We are every bit as off-putting and unpleasant as the fundamentalist minister or the priest of the inquisition (have people yet understood that Deleuze and Guattari’s Anti-Oedipus was a critique of the French communist party system and the Stalinist party system, and the horrific passions that arise out of parties and identifications in general?). This type of “revolutionary” is the greatest friend of the reactionary and capitalist because they do more to drive people into the embrace of reigning ideology than to undermine reigning ideology. These are the people that keep Rush Limbaugh in business. Well done!¶ But this isn’t where our most serious shortcomings lie. Our most serious shortcomings are to be found at phase 2. We almost never make concrete proposals for how things ought to be restructured, for what new material infrastructures and semiotic fields need to be produced, and when we do, our critique-intoxicated cynics and skeptics immediately jump in with an analysis of all the ways in which these things contain dirty secrets, ugly motives, and are doomed to fail.

Particularity is the best standard
Price 98 (RICHARD PRICE is a former prof in the Department of Anthropology at Yale University. Later, he moved to Johns Hopkins University to found the Department of Anthropology, where he served three terms as chair. A decade of freelance teaching (University of Minnesota, Stanford University, Princeton University, University of Florida, Universidade Federal da Bahia), ensued. This article is co-authored with CHRISTIAN REUS-SMIT – Monash University – European Journal of International Relations Copyright © 1998 via SAGE Publications – http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/~courses/PoliticalScience/661B1/documents/PriceReusSmithCriticalInternatlTheoryConstructivism.pdf)
One of the central departures of critical international theory from positivism is the view that we cannot escape the interpretive moment. As George (1994: 24) argues, ‘the world is always an interpreted “thing”, and it is always interpreted in conditions of disagreement and conflict, to one degree or another’. For this reason, ‘there can be no common body of observational or tested data that we can turn to for a neutral, objective knowledge of the world. There can be no ultimate knowledge, for example, that actually corresponds to reality per se.’ This proposition has been endorsed wholeheartedly by constructivists, who are at pains to deny the possibility of making ‘Big-T’ Truth claims about the world and studiously avoid attributing such status to their findings. This having been said, after undertaking sustained empirical analyses of aspects of world politics constructivists do make ‘small-t’ truth claims about the subjects they have investigated. That is, they claim to have arrived at logical and empirically plausible interpretations of actions, events or processes, and they appeal to the weight of evidence to sustain such claims. While admitting that their claims are always contingent and partial interpretations of a complex world, Price (1995, 1997) claims that his genealogy provides the best account to date to make sense of anomalies surrounding the use of chemical weapons, and Reus-Smit (1997) claims that a culturalist perspective offers the best explanation of institutional differences between historical societies of states. Do such claims contradict the interpretive ethos of critical international theory? For two reasons, we argue that they do not. First, the interpretive ethos of critical international theory is driven, in large measure, by a normative rejection of totalizing discourses, of general theoretical frameworks that privilege certain perspectives over others. One searches constructivist scholarship in vain, though, for such discourses. With the possible exception of Wendt’s problematic flirtation with general systemic theory and professed commitment to ‘science’, constructivist research is at its best when and because it is question driven, with self-consciously contingent claims made specifically in relation to particular phenomena, at a particular time, based on particular evidence, and always open to alternative interpretations. Second, the rejection of totalizing discourses based on ‘big-T’ Truth claims does not foreclose the possibility, or even the inevitability, of making ‘small-t’ truth claims. In fact, we would argue that as soon as one observes and interacts in the world such claims are unavoidable, either as a person engaged in everyday life or as a scholar. As Nietzsche pointed out long ago, we cannot help putting forth truth claims about the world. The individual who does not cannot act, and the genuinely unhypocritical relativist who cannot struggles for something to say and write. In short, if constructivists are not advancing totalizing discourses, and if making ‘small-t’ truth claims is inevitable if one is to talk about how the world works, then it is no more likely that constructivism per se violates the interpretive ethos of critical international theory than does critical theory itself.

Tournament: St Marks | Round: Octas | Opponent: Apple Valley JB | Judge: Panel
1AC
For more than two decades, the global nuclear industry has attempted to frame the debate on nuclear power within the context of climate change: nuclear power is better than any of the alternatives. So the argument went. Ambitious nuclear expansion plans in the United States and Japan, two of the largest existing markets, and the growth of nuclear power in China appeared to show—superficially at least—that the technology had a future. At least in terms of political rhetoric and media perception, it appeared to be a winning argument. Then came March 11, 2011. Those most determined to promote nuclear power even cited the Fukushima Daiichi accident as a reason for expanding nuclear power: impacts were low, no one died, radiation levels are not a risk. So claimed a handful of commentators in the international (particularly English-language) media.

However, from the start of the accident at Fukushima Daiichi on March 11 2011, the harsh reality of nuclear power was exposed to billions of people across the planet, and in particular to the population of Japan, including the more than 160,000 people displaced by the disaster, many of whom are still unable to return to their homes, and scores of millions more threatened had worst case scenarios occurred. One authoritative voice that has been central to exposing the myth-making of the nuclear industry and its supporters has been that of Kan Naoto, Prime Minister in 2011. His conversion from promoter to stern critic may be simple to understand, but it is no less commendable for its bravery. When the survival of half the society you are elected to serve and protect is threatened by a technology that is essentially an expensive way to boil water, then something is clearly wrong. Japan avoided societal destruction thanks in large part to the dedication of workers at the crippled nuclear plant, but also to the intervention of Kan and his staff, and to luck. Had it not been for a leaking pipe into the cooling pool of Unit 4 that maintained sufficient water levels, the highly irradiated spent fuel in the pool, including the entire core only recently removed from the reactor core, would have been exposed, releasing an amount of radioactivity far in excess of that released from the other three reactors. The cascade of subsequent events would have meant total loss of control of the other reactors, including their spent fuel pools and requiring massive evacuation extending throughout metropolitan Tokyo, as Prime Minister Kan feared. That three former Prime Ministers of Japan are not just opposed to nuclear power but actively campaigning against it is unprecedented in global politics and is evidence of the scale of the threat that Fukushima posed to tens of millions of Japanese.

The reality is that in terms of electricity share and relative to renewable energy, nuclear power has been in decline globally for two decades. Since the Fukushima Daiichi accident, this decline has only increased in pace. The nuclear industry knew full well that nuclear power could not be scaled up to the level required to make a serious impact on global emissions. But that was never the point. The industry adopted the climate-change argument as a survival strategy: to ensure extending the life of existing aging reactors and make possible the addition of some new nuclear capacity in the coming decades—sufficient at least to allow a core nuclear industrial infrastructure to survive to mid-century. The dream was to survive to mid-century, when limitless energy would be realized by the deployment of commercial plutonium fast-breeder reactors and other generation IV designs. It was always a myth, but it had a commercial and strategic rationale for the power companies, nuclear suppliers and their political allies.

The basis for the Fukushima Daiichi accident began long before March 11th 2011, when decisions were made to build and operate reactors in a nation almost uniquely vulnerable to major seismic events. More than five years on, the accident continues with a legacy that will stretch over the decades. Preventing the next catastrophic accident in Japan is now a passion of the former Prime Minister, joining as he has the majority of the people of Japan determined to transition to a society based on renewable energy. He is surely correct that the end of nuclear power in Japan is possible. The utilities remain in crisis, with only three reactors operating, and legal challenges have been launched across the nation. No matter what policy the government chooses, the basis for Japan’s entire nuclear fuel cycle policy, which is based on plutonium separation at Rokkasho-mura and its use in the Monju reactor and its fantasy successor reactors, is in a worse state than ever before. But as Kan Naoto knows better than most, this is an industry entrenched within the establishment and still wields enormous influence. Its end is not guaranteed. Determination and dedication will be needed to defeat it. Fortunately, the Japanese people have these in abundance. SB
Shaun Burnie; senior nuclear specialist with Greenpeace Germany; “The Fukushima Disaster and the Future of Nuclear Power in Japan”; http://www.globalresearch.ca/the-fukushima-disaster-and-the-future-of-nuclear-power-in-japan-an-interview-with-former-prime-minister-kan-naoto/5547438; JLB (10/9/16)
That was Shaun Burnie on October 9th.
Nuclear power construction and mining emits carbon dioxide, poisoning the environment.
Sovacool, 07 Benjamin; Senior Research Fellow for the Virginia Center for Coal and Energy Research and professor of Government and International Affairs at Virginia Tech; “What's Really Wrong With Nuclear Power?”; 11/30; http://scitizen.com/stories/Future-Energies/2007/11/What-s-Really-Wrong-With-Nuclear-Power/; JLB (8/8/2016)
Third and finally, nuclear power plants are not carbon neutral. The Oxford Research Group concludes that the nuclear fuel cycle is responsible for emitting 84 to 122 grams of carbon dioxide per every kWh, mostly from uranium mining, plant construction, and plant decommissioning. The report also notes that these emissions are around half of that as natural gas plants (so we are talking about some serious carbon). In addition, the International Atomic Energy Agency notes that uranium is getting harder to mine, meaning that the carbon emissions related to nuclear will get worse as more uranium gets depleted, not better. This is because mining uranium ores of relatively low grades and greater depth is much more energy intensive. If world nuclear generating share remains what it is today, the Oxford Research Group concludes that by 2050 nuclear power would generate as much carbion dioxide per kWh as a comparable gas-fired power station.
Nuclear energy contaminates surrounding water. Maintenance workers are exposed to severe radiation levels as corrosive nuclear waste is released into the coolant system.
Caldicott, ‘6
Helen, Founder, President -- Nuclear Policy Research Institute, “Nuclear Power is not the answer,” p. 58-9
Radioactive corrosion or activation products that are not the result of uranium fission are also produced, as neutrons bombard the metal piping and the reactor containment. These elements, which are powerfully radioactive, include cobalt 60, iron 55, nickel 63, radioactive manganese, niobium, zinc, and chromium. These materials slough off from the pipes into the primary coolant. Officially called CRUD, it is so intensely radioactive that it poses a severe hazard to maintenance workers and inspectors in certain areas of the reactor. 36 ¶ According to David Lochbaum, a nuclear engineer at the Union of Concerned Scientists, during shutdowns of reactors, the utilities not uncommonly flush out pipes, heat exchangers, etc., to remove highly radioactive CRUD build-up. Some of the CRUD is sent to radioactive waste dumps while some is released to the river, lake, or sea nearest the reactor. 37 ¶ Although the nuclear industry claims it is "emission" free, in fact it is collectively releasing millions of curies annually. Reports documenting gaseous and liquid radioactive releases vary enormously depending upon accidental and larger-than-normal routine releases. The Millstone One reactor in Connecticut alone released a remarkable 2.97 million curies of noble gases in 1975, whereas Nine Mile Point One released 1.3 million curies in 1975. In 1974, the total release from all reactors in the United States was 6.48 million curies, and in 1993 it ranged between 96,600 curies to 214,000 curies Releases vary according to equipment failure, which is variable and fickle. By contrast, coal plants release some uranium and uranium daughter products in their smoke but very little radiation compared to atomic plants, and certainly no fission products. ¶ The utilities also admit that about 12 gallons of intensely radioactive primary coolant leaks daily into the secondary coolant via the steam generator through breaks in the pipes. Some of these emissions, which occur when the steam is released to the air, are not even monitored? Likewise, about 4,000 gallons of primary coolant water are intentionally released to the environment on a daily basis, while some just leaks out unplanned. Many other emissions are simply not monitored.
And a meta-review of the literature indicates that PTSD and mental stress rates increased as a result of the Fukushima disaster
Harada et al 15 Nahoko Harada, Division of Nursing, School of Medicine, National Defense Medical College, “Mental health and psychological impacts from the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake Disaster: a systematic literature review,” Disaster and Military MedicineThe Journal of Prehospital, Trauma and Emergency Care, 2015
Our review compiled a wide array of mental health consequence following the Great East Japan Earthquake, an unprecedented compound disaster with a combination of earthquakes, tsunamis, and a series of nuclear accidents. A considerable proportion of the study population was mentally affected to a substantial degree, and mental health responses ranged from approximately one-tenth to nearly half of the respondents 12, 27. Mental health outcomes included, but were not limited to, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Physical health changes, such as sleep and eating disturbances, were also reported. Although every disaster is different, disasters are large-scale, stressful, and distressing events that affect a significant number of people. Those who experience higher exposure to traumatic events are likely to show higher mental health responses (i.e., dose–response relationship) 60. For the most people, these acute responses are normal and gradually decrease over time, but a small proportion of the affected individuals will suffer long-term mental health issues. In a review of 160 disaster mental health studies, proportions of subjects with severe impairment were 21.6  for natural disasters and 18.5  for technological disaster samples 6. The articles in this review had relatively higher mental health rates than in previous studies. This trend might be related to the high impact of this disaster as well as the GEJE study timing, because most of the studies were conducted among the direct victims within 2 years after the disaster. Long-term, longitudinal studies are evolving, and they will potentially be useful to understand the trajectories of mental health consequences among these people. In the region affected by the Fukushima nuclear disaster, invisible and imperceptible nature of radioactive materials has been challenged among the affected people. The residents’ responses were diverse and complex; along with high proportions of mental health distress among the Fukushima residents 46, concerns for radiation effect were a prominent concern especially among pregnant women and mothers of young children 43, 49, 61.
Mentally ill face social stigma in Japan
Ando et al 13 Shuntaro Ando, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, Tokyo Metropolitan Institute of Medical Science, Tokyo, Japan, “Review of mental-health-related stigma in Japan,” Psychiatry and Clinical Neurosciences, September 30, 2013  
In Japan, the general public's knowledge of mental illness was found to be relatively poor. Weakness of personality was most often seen as the cause for mental illness, rather than biological factors, such as heritability. A substantial number of Japanese people do not recognize that people with mental illness can recover. In addition, many people have negative attitudes towards people with mental illness, considering them dangerous and unpredictable. Not surprisingly, the majority of the general public in Japan keeps greater social distance from individuals with mental illness in close relationships. Schizophrenia is more stigmatized than depression, and the severity of the illness increases the stigmatizing attitude toward it. In terms of professionals' stigmatization, mental health staff who regularly and directly have contact with individuals with mental illness have less negative attitudes. This may be associated with their accumulation of contact with people who have recovered from mental illness. Compared to Taiwan and Australia, the stigma of mental illness was stronger in Japan, which might be due to institutionalism, the lack of implementation of national campaigns, and society's value of conformity. Although some education programs appeared to be effective in reducing mental-health-related stigma, we found key implications for future interventions. For example, both the general public and professionals need to:  eliminate the misunderstanding that mental illness is caused by personal faults; (ii) focus on the adverse effects of institutionalism; (iii) stress the importance of community care; and (iv) offer direct social contact with people with mental illness.

Part two is the advocacy
Text: The Government of Japan should ban the production of nuclear power.
CCNE 13 Citizens’ Commission on Nuclear Energy, Organization Aiming at Fundamental Reform of Nuclear Energy Policy, “Our path to a nuclear-free Japan: an interim report Executive Summary,” October 2013
Given the Fukushima Nuclear Accident and the many shortcomings found in Japanese civil nuclear policies, Japan – under national consensus - should make it a national virtue to ban the use of atomic energy for power generation and to achieve a society free of nuclear power. A “society free of nuclear power” here means a status where decisions have been taken to decommission all existing nuclear reactors and the process of decommissioning has begun. In order to achieve a shift towards a sustainable energy system, a Fundamental Law on Energy Shift should be enacted. Further, administrative and financial reform should be carried out with the aim to overcome all the past problems associated with energy policies.
Part three is solvency
19 reactors will be operational in Japan by 2018 by standard predictions.
WNN 7/28 World Nuclear News, “Japanese institute sees 19 reactor restarts by March 2018,” July 28 2016, http://www.world-nuclear-news.org/NP-Japanese-institute-sees-19-reactor-restarts-by-March-2018-2807164.html
Seven Japanese nuclear power reactors are likely to be in operation by the end of next March and 12 more one year later, according to an estimate by the Institute of Energy Economics, Japan (IEEJ). Judicial rulings and local consents will influence the rate of restart, it notes. In its Economic and Energy Outlook of Japan Through 2017, the IEEJ has considered the economic and environmental impacts in financial years 2016 and 2017 (ending March 2017 and 2018, respectively) of various scenarios for the restart of reactors in Japan. The organization estimates that if restarts take place according to the current schedule - the "reference scenario" - seven reactors could restart by the end of FY2016 (ending March 2017). By the end of FY2017, 19 units could be restarted, generating some 119.8 TWh of electricity annually, comfchecpared with total nuclear output of 288.2 TWh in FY2010, the year prior to the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi plant. Under this scenario, compared with FY2010, total spending on fossil fuel imports in FY2017 decreases by JPY4.7 trillion ($45 billion), while the electricity cost - including fuel costs, feed-in tariffs and grid stabilization costs - increases by about JPY100/MWh. Relative to the same period, energy-related carbon dioxide emissions to 1094 million tonnes CO2. According to the IEEJ, energy-related emissions reached a historical high of 1235 million tonnes CO2 in FY2013. The IEEJ's high-case scenario assumes a total of 25 units are restarted by the end of FY2017, generating 151.2 TWh annually, with total fossil fuel imports spending decreasing by JPY0.7 trillion relative to the low-case scenario where only 12 reactors are assumed to restart, producing 39.1 TWh. In the high-case scenario, the average electricity unit cost is lowered by about JPY600/MWh and energy-related emissions decrease by 52 million tonnes CO2.
Japan is meeting emissions requirements—shifting from coal towards renewables.
Levit 6/17 Donald; strategist; Economic Calendar; 6/17/16; “Japan Burning Record Amount of Coal Instead of Relying on Nuclear Power”; http://www.economiccalendar.com/2016/06/17/japan-burning-record-amount-of-coal-instead-of-relying-on-nuclear-power/; JLB (8/17/16)
The concern about Japan’s hefty use of coal is that if international agreements to curb the use of coal come with hefty fines and fees to coal users, than Japan’s high use of coal could have a major economic impact on the country over the longer-term. Some of Japan’s powerful trading houses are cutting or freezing coal investments over concerns about the environmental and economic fallout. Japan recently gave environmental approval to three more coal-fired power plants out of 45 planned. This agreement came even after the country agreed at last year’s UN climate conference to cut carbon emissions by 26 by 2030 from its 2013 levels. Even though the country has increased coal use, it has promised that it will make its thermal power stations more efficient to meet its global emissions commitments. The country is also increasing its use of renewable energy; Japan is now the third largest solar power user in the world.

Japan’s business lobby is pushing for renewables—no long term shift to coal, heavily relies on imports.
Brown 6/22 Lincoln; former News and Program Director for KVEL radio; Oil Price; 6/22/16; “Japan’s Business Lobby Calls For A Shift From Nuclear Power To Renewables”; http://oilprice.com/Latest-Energy-News/World-News/Japans-Business-Lobby-Calls-For-A-Shift-From-Nuclear-Power-To-Renewables.html; JLB (8/17/16)
Japan must look toward renewable energy instead of nuclear power for its power needs, Teruo Asada, vice chairman of the Japan Association of Corporate Executives, has said, since the chances are slim that Japan will be able to return to the levels of nuclear power that existed before the Fukushima accident in 2011. The Abe administration has the goal of using nuclear energy for a fifth of the country’s power needs by 2030. So far, only 42 operable reactors have started operation. Asada stated: "We have a sense of crisis that Japan will become a laughing stock if we do not encourage renewable power." Asada also commented that for the long term, Japan needs to lower its dependence on nuclear power, predicting that it might not comprise 10 percent of the country’s energy supply. He said that the association is calling for measures to encourage private investment in renewable energy and public funding for the necessary infrastructure. Asada’s comments come as legal challenges and public opinion haunt efforts to restart the nuclear plant. Japan’s government and business sector had supported nuclear energy as an alternative to fossil fuels, which must be imported. Renewable energy accounted for 14.3 percent of the country’s power up to March of this year.
Nuclear power can’t solve warming – it would require one reactor a week for 52 years
Caldicott 6 Helen; Founder and President of the Nuclear Policy Research Institute; “Nuclear Power is not the answer”; JLB (8/8/2016)
Setting aside the energetic costs of the whole fuel cycle, and look¬ing just at the Nuclear Industry's claim that what transpires in the nuclear plants is "clean and green," the following conditions would have to be met for nuclear power actually to make the substantial contribution to reducing greenhouse gas emissions that the indus¬try claims is possible (this analysis assumes 2 or more growth in global electricity demand): •All present-day nuclear power plants-441-would have to be replaced by new ones. •Half the electricity growth would have to be provided by nuclear power. •Half of all the world's coal fired plants would have to be re¬placed by nuclear power plants.28 This would mean the construction over the next fifty years of some 2,000 to 3,000 nuclear reactors of 1,000 megawatt size-one per week for fifty years! Considering the eight to ten years it takes to construct a new reactor and the finite supply of uranium fuel, such an enterprise is simply not viable.

Part four is framework
The standard is mitigating structural violence.
1 Structural violence is based in moral exclusion, it pervades our cognitive processes and encourages us to ignore differences in identity.
Winter and Leighton 99 Deborah DuNann Winter and Dana C. Leighton. Winter|Psychologist that specializes in Social Psych, Counseling Psych, Historical and Contemporary Issues, Peace Psychology. Leighton: PhD graduate student in the Psychology Department at the University of Arkansas. Knowledgable in the fields of social psychology, peace psychology, and justice and intergroup responses to transgressions of justice “Peace, conflict, and violence: Peace psychology in the 21st century.” Pg 4-5
She argues that our normal perceptual cognitive processes divide people into in-groups and out-groups. Those outside our group lie outside our scope of justice. Injustice that would be instantaneously confronted if it occurred to someone we love or know is barely noticed if it occurs to strangers or those who are invisible or irrelevant. We do not seem to be able to open our minds and our hearts to everyone, so we draw conceptual lines between those who are in and out of our moral circle. Those who fall outside are morally excluded, and become either invisible, or demeaned in some way so that we do not have to acknowledge the injustice they suffer. Moral exclusion is a human failing, but Opotow argues convincingly that it is an outcome of everyday social cognition. To reduce its nefarious effects, we must be vigilant in noticing and listening to oppressed, invisible, outsiders. Inclusionary thinking can be fostered by relationships, communication, and appreciation of diversity. Like Opotow, all the authors in this section point out that structural violence is not inevitable if we become aware of its operation, and build systematic ways to mitigate its effects. Learning about structural violence may be discouraging, overwhelming, or maddening, but these papers encourage us to step beyond guilt and anger, and begin to think about how to reduce structural violence. All the authors in this section note that the same structures (such as global communication and normal social cognition) which feed structural violence, can also be used to empower citizens to reduce it. In the long run, reducing structural violence by reclaiming neighborhoods, demanding social justice and living wages, providing prenatal care, alleviating sexism, and celebrating local cultures, will be our most surefooted path to building lasting peace.
2 Global justice requires a reduction in inequality and a focus on material rights.
Okereke 07 Chukwumerije Okereke (Senior Research Associate at the Tyndall Centre for Climate Change Research at the University of East Anglia). Global Justice and Neoliberal Environmental Governance. Routledge 2007
Notwithstanding these drawbacks, these scholars provide very compelling arguments against mainstream conceptions of justice. In this approach, the obli- gation of justice is derived from the moral equality of human beings irrespective of their race, creed and nationality (O'Neill 1991; Brown 1992: 169; Beitz 1979; Sen 1999). The emphasis is on the positive rights of citizens - that is the kinds of rights that require state authorities to do something in order to provide citizens with the opportunities and abilities to act to fulfil their own potential - as opposed to negative rights/liberty, which refers to freedom from coercion and non-interfer- ence. The notion of justice as meeting needs, as seen in Chapter 2, figures very prominently in quite a number of the influencing materials that form the starting point for the discourse on global sustainable development. It has been suggested, in general, that this idea of justice is 'in-------------creasingly influential on non-governmen- tal organizations and the community of international policy makers' (Brighouse 2004: 67). In general, proponents of justice as need criticize liberal ideas of justice for concentrating on political equality (equal right to speech, vote, etc.) without addressing the problem of material equality - especially in the form of equal access to resources. They also claim that the ability to own property as well as the ability to exercise political rights (say the right to vote) depends first and foremost on the ability of citizens to function effectively. When the basic human needs of citizens, for example food, are not being met, other rights become merely 'hypothetical and empty' (Sen 1999: 75). Following on from this basic reasoning, the rights approach to justice is rejected and, in its place, human basic need is seen as the correct basis of political morality and the right benchmark for the determination of political judgment (Plant 1991: 185). In previous sections we saw that libertarian notions of justice sanction unlimited material inequality between citizens, provided that each person has obtained their possessions through legitimate means. All that matters is that the state should ensure fair rules of transitions and equality before the law. We saw also that liberal accounts of justice, especially Rawls' liberal egalitarianism, reject this formula- tion of justice because it does not secure the welfare of the less able in society. On the contrary, Rawls recommends that political institutions should be structured in ways that protect the interests of the least advantaged individuals in society. Accordingly, he sanctions societal inequities provided that such inequities work to the advantage of the least well-off. On closer reading, however, it turns out that Rawls difference principle (that inequities should work in favour of the least well- off) does not contain any explicit demand relating to the basic needs of the poor. As such, it is possible for Rawls' proviso to be met even when the least well-off in the society are denied their basic needs. For example, a distribution that changes from 20:10:2 to 100:30:4 satisfies Rawls difference principle but tells us noth- ing about the actual well-being of the least well-off. So, whereas some (mainly libertarians) criticize Rawls for not specifying the extent to which other people's liberty can be sacrificed for the sake of the least well-off, others (proponents of justice as meeting need) criticize Rawls for leaving the fate of the least well-off unprotected. Many scholars in the latter group sometimes argue along Marxian lines that as long as the means of production remain in the hands of the 'haves' there is no guarantee that inequities will benefit the least well-off. Maslow (1968), Bradshaw (1972) and Forder (1974) have all consequently argued that only the theory of need provides, as Maslow (1968: 4) puts it, 'the ultimate appeal for the determination of the good, bad, right and wrong' in a po- litical community. Without the theory of need, they say, it would be impossible to justify the welfare state in capitalist Western democracies. On the other hand, the co-existence of welfare and capitalism confirms the place of need as the criterion of moral political judgment. O'Neill (1991), Sen (1999) and Nussbaum (2000) have all extended versions of this argument to the international domain. O'Neill (1980, 1991) argues that adherence to the Kantian categorical imperative entails that the global community must act to remove the aching poverty and famine that threaten the existence of millions of people in developing countries. Sen (1999), for his part, calls for the strengthening of international institutions to make them able to assist the least well in the global society to achieve the measure of actual living that is required for the basic function and well-being of citizens. For Sen, as for O'Neill, all forms of liberty and rights are meaningful only when people have the substantive 'freedom to achieve actual living' (Sen 1999: 73; cf. O'Neill 1989: 288; 1986). Thomas Pogge also places emphasis on human basic need and starts his well-known book World Poverty and Human Rights with the rhetorical ques- tion: 'How can severe poverty of half of humankind continue despite enormous economic and technological progress and despite the enlightened moral norms and values of our heavily dominant Western civilization?' (Pogge 2002: 3).
Part 5: Underview 

Prefer reasonable aff interps and drop the argument on T. The judge should use reasonability with a bright line of the presence of link and impact turn ground for the negative. Since he has equal access to offense, there’s no abuse because structural access to the ballot is the same. 

AFF RVIs: the 2AR doesn’t have enough time to cover both theory and substance since the 2NR is twice as long so I have half the offense at the end of the debate – I should be able to collapse to the highest layer.

Default to complexity theory for evaluating risk—scenario planning always fails
Kavalski 7 Emilian, professor of IR – University of Western Sydney, PhD international politics – Loughborough University, “The fifth debate and the emergence of complex international relations theory: notes on the application of complexity theory to the study of international life,” Cambridge Review of International Affairs Volume 20, Issue 3, p. 435-454
As Beaumont (1994, 145) has quipped, there is something paradoxical about concluding an article on complexity, since the sequential unfolding of uncertainties, dilemmas and paradoxes works against focusing analysis and drawing neat conclusions. Yet, the perception of complexity does not automatically imply a ‘“defeatist” attitude’ (LaPorte 1975, 328). Therefore, this overview of the application of CT to world politics calls us to start thinking about the study of international life from a complex systems perspective.  The proponents of CIR theory maintain that complexity cannot be regulated (and, thereby, structured through methodological tools), but that it is experienced. Such an assertion confronts the conventional wisdom of IR with the patterns of complexity: the former is premised on the separation of the ‘objects of knowledge from their contexts’ and the latter, while distinguishing between the objects, ‘interconnects’ them (Browaeys and Baets 2003, 335). The emergent attempts at comprehending the complexity of international life, therefore, have initiated the fifth debate in IR. The claim here is that this development has important emancipatory (and, thereby, policy) implications. Such a prospect has been made possible through the ontological innovation of CIR theory—the envisioning of social science imagination as a ‘system of interference’ that makes particular forms of the social real while foreclosing others (Law and Urry 2004, 397). On the one hand, CIR theory insists that complex systems thinking ‘should compel the strongest states to act in ways that reduce the vulnerability of the weakest’ (Snyder and Jervis 1993, 20). Rosenau (2003, 330), for instance, argues that the complexity (or what he calls ‘fragmegration’) of international life has made it possible for a wide range of individual and collective actors to put pressure on ‘rights-insensitive states’ across all the dimensions of state capabilities that have previously been impervious to demands on behalf of human rights. This acknowledges that activism generates its own countervailing forces that assume a continuing expansion of the analytical skills that enable people to alter their priorities across whole systems and subsystems (that is, alter habit-driven behaviour) as they discover that ‘the former cannot provide satisfying solutions to major problems and that the latter cannot contain low-intensity conflicts and maintain a satisfying degree of public order’ (Rosenau 1990, 457). Thus, in contrast to the reactionary stance of mainstream IR, CIR theory advocates an emancipatory agenda for a ‘new vision of politics that emphasises responsibility’ (Barnett 2005, 115) made possible by the promise of ‘immanent self-ordering’ (Parfitt 2006, 424). On the other hand, several CIR theoreticians have pointed out that the recognition of the complexity of international life diminishes the likelihood of recourse to force in world affairs—the suggestion is that the acknowledgement of the unpredictability and contradictions of international interactions as well as policies informed by CT should make foreign-policy-making more peaceful (Puente 2006; Suedfeld and Tetlock 1977). For instance, some have argued that policy-makers who recognize the unintended consequences of complexity indicate preferences for diplomacy over military confrontation (Raphael 1982; Wallace and Suedfeld 1988). For instance, the case of the 2003 invasion of Iraq points to the problem of reductionist decision-making—that is, even if the ‘rules of the game’ are completely known and understood at the local level, it might be impossible to predict regional/global outcomes; furthermore, the quandary of policy formulation based on parsimonious (simplifying) analysis is inherent rather than situational, because ‘planning based on predictions is not merely impractical; it is also logically impossible’ (Mathews et al 1999, 450). Such discussion of the emancipatory aspects of CIR theory is not intended as a distraction from some of its shortcomings. Instead, the suggestion is that these flaws necessitate further exploration of the CIR framework as it is alone in taking the discontinuities of international life seriously. This article contends that the application of the complexity paradigm to the study of international life would refocus the study of global affairs. Returning to the words of Herbert Wells in the epigraph of this article, the promise of CIR theory is that it can help lift ‘the darkest shadow’ from the totalizing discourses of terrorism and fear that seem to pervade current world politics by volunteering ‘imaginative thinking’ on the complexity of human societies and their interactions.
Speaking from an abstract, “zero-point” perspective is one rooted in Western philosophies that attempt to conceal and hide ethnic, racial, gendered, and sexual epistemic locations through a universalizing knowledge that leads to domination and hierarchy
Grosfoguel 11 (Ramon, Associate Professor Ethnic Studies Department, Chicano/Latino Studies) "Decolonizing Post-Colonial Studies and Paradigms of Political Economy: Transmodernity, Decolonial Thinking, and Global Coloniality." TRANSMODERNITY: Journal of Peripheral Cultural Production of the Luso-Hispanic World 1, no. 1, 4-6
The first point achieving a universal consciousness, and to dismiss non-Western knowledge as particularistic and, thus, unable to achieve universality to discuss is the contribution of racial/ethnic and feminist subaltern perspectives to epistemological questions. The hegemonic Eurocentric paradigms that have informed western philosophy and sciences in the “modern/colonial capitalist/patriarchal world-system” (Grosfoguel 2005; 2006b) for the last 500 hundred years assume a universalistic, neutral, objective point of view. Chicana and black feminist scholars (Moraga and Anzaldúa 1983; Collins 1990) as well as Third World scholars inside and outside the United States (Dussel 1977) reminded us that we always speak from a particular location in the power structures. Nobody escapes the class, sexual, gender, spiritual, linguistic, geographical, and racial hierarchies of the “modern/colonial capitalist/patriarchal world-system“. As feminist scholar Donna Haraway (1988) states, our knowledges are always situated. Black feminist scholars called this perspective “afro-centric epistemology” (Collins 1990) (which is not equivalent to the afrocentrist perspective) while Latin American Philosopher of Liberation Enrique Dussel called it “geopolitics of knowledge” (Dussel 1977) and, following Fanon (1967) and Anzaldúa (1987), I will use the term “body politics of knowledge.” This is not only a question about social values in knowledge production or the fact that our knowledge is always partial. The main point here is the locus of enunciation, that is, the geo-political and body-political location of the subject that speaks. In Western philosophy and sciences the subject that speaks is always hidden, concealed, erased from the analysis. The “ego-politics of knowledge” of Western philosophy has always privilege the myth of a non-situated “Ego”. Ethnic/racial/gender/sexual epistemic location and the subject that speaks are always decoupled. By delinking ethnic/racial/gender/sexual epistemic location from the subject that speaks, Western philosophy and sciences are able to produce a myth about a Truthful universal knowledge that covers up, that is, conceals who is speaking as well as the geo-political and body-political epistemic location in the structures of colonial power/knowledge from which the subject speaks. It is important here to distinguish the “epistemic location” from the “social location.” The fact that one is socially located in the oppressed side of power relations does not automatically mean that he/she is epistemically thinking from a subaltern epistemic location. Precisely, the success of the modern/colonial worldsystem consists in making subjects that are socially located in the oppressed side of the colonial difference, to think epistemically like the ones on the dominant positions. Subaltern epistemic perspectives are knowledge coming from below that produces a critical perspective of hegemonic knowledge in the power relations involved. I am not claiming an epistemic populism where knowledge produced from below is automatically an epistemic subaltern knowledge. What I am claiming is that all knowledges are epistemically located in the dominant or the subaltern side of the power relations and that this is related to the geo- and body-politics of knowledge. The disembodied and unlocated neutrality and objectivity of the ego-politics of knowledge is a Western myth. René Descartes, the founder of Modern Western Philosophy, inaugurates a new moment in the history of Western thought. He replaces God, as the foundation of knowledge in the Theo-politics of knowledge of the European Middle Ages, with (Western) Man as the foundation of knowledge in European Modern times. All the attributes of God are now extrapolated to (Western) Man. Universal Truth beyond time and space privileges access to the laws of the Universe, and the capacity to produce scientific knowledge and theory is now placed in the mind of Western Man. The Cartesian “Cogito ergo sum” (“I think, therefore I am“) is the foundation of modern Western sciences. By producing a dualism between mind and body and between mind and nature, Descartes was able to claim non-situated, universal, Godeyed view knowledge. This is what the Colombian philosopher Santiago Castro- Gómez called the “point zero” perspective of Eurocentric philosophies (Castro-Gómez 2003). The “point zero” is the point of view that hides and conceals itself as being beyond a particular point of view, that is, the point of view that represents itself as being without a point of view. It is this “god-eye view” that always hides its local and particular perspective under an abstract universalism. Western philosophy privileges “ego politics of knowledge” over the “geopolitics of knowledge” and the “body-politics of knowledge.” Historically, this has allowed Western man (the gendered term is intentionally used here) to represent his knowledge as the only one capable of achieving a universal consciousness, and to dismiss non-Western knowledge as particularistic and, thus, unable to achieve universality. This epistemic strategy has been crucial for Western global designs. By hiding the location of the subject of enunciation, European/Euro-American colonial expansion and domination was able to construct a hierarchy of superior and inferior knowledge and, thus, of superior and inferior people around the world. We went from the sixteenth century characterization of “people without writing” to the eighteenth and nineteenth-century characterization of “people without history,” to the twentieth-century characterization of “people without development” and more recently, to the early twenty-first-century of “people without democracy”. We went from the sixteenth-century “rights of people” (Sepúlveda versus de las Casas debate in the University of Salamanca in the mid-sixteenth century), to the eighteenth-century “rights of man” (Enlightenment philosophers), and to the late twentieth-century “human rights.” All of these are part of global designs articulated to the simultaneous production and reproduction of an international division of labor of core/periphery that overlaps with the global racial/ethnic hierarchy of Europeans/non-Europeans. However, as Enrique Dussel (1994) has reminded us, the Cartesian “Cogito ergo sum” was preceded by 150 years (since the beginnings of the European colonial expansion in 1492) of the European “ego conquistus” (“I conquer, therefore I am”). The social, economic, political and historical conditions of possibility for a subject to assume the arrogance of becoming God-like and put himself as the foundation of all Truthful knowledge was the Imperial Being, that is, the subjectivity of those who are at the center of the world because they have already conquered it. What are the decolonial implications of this epistemological critique to our knowledge production and to our concept of world-system?

Abstract questioning is useless - debate should seek to design concrete alternatives.
Bryant 12 (EDITED FOR GENDERED LANGUAGE – the author said “she” and it was replaced with the word “to” – Levi Bryant is currently a Professor of Philosophy at Collin College. In addition to working as a professor, Bryant has also served as a Lacanian psychoanalyst. He received his Ph.D. from Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois, where he originally studied 'disclosedness' with the Heidegger scholar Thomas Sheehan. Bryant later changed his dissertation topic to the transcendental empiricism of Gilles Deleuze,  “Critique of the Academic Left”, http://larvalsubjects.wordpress.com/2012/11/11/underpants-gnomes-a-critique-of-the-academic-left/)
I must be in a mood today– half irritated, half amused –because I find myself ranting. Of course, that’s not entirely unusual. So this afternoon I came across a post by a friend quoting something discussing the environmental movement that pushed all the right button. As the post read,¶ For mainstream environmentalism– conservationism, green consumerism, and resource management –humans are conceptually separated out of nature and mythically placed in privileged positions of authority and control over ecological communities and their nonhuman constituents. What emerges is the fiction of a marketplace of ‘raw materials’ and ‘resources’ through which human-centered wants, constructed as needs, might be satisfied. The mainstream narratives are replete with such metaphors carbon trading!. Natural complexity _{mutuality, and diversity are rendered virtually meaningless given discursive parameters that reduce nature to discrete units of exchange measuring extractive capacities. Jeff Shantz, “Green Syndicalism”¶ While finding elements this description perplexing– I can’t say that I see many environmentalists treating nature and culture as distinct or suggesting that we’re sovereigns of nature –I do agree that we conceive much of our relationship to the natural world in economic terms (not a surprise that capitalism is today a universal). This, however, is not what bothers me about this passage.¶ What I wonder is just what we’re supposed to do even if all of this is true? What, given existing conditions, are we to do if all of this is right? At least green consumerism, conservation, resource management, and things like carbon trading are engaging in activities that are making real differences. From this passage– and maybe the entire text would disabuse me of this conclusion –it sounds like we are to reject all of these interventions because they remain tied to a capitalist model of production that the author (and myself) find abhorrent. The idea seems to be that if we endorse these things we are tainting our hands and would therefore do well to reject them altogether. The problem as I see it is that this is the worst sort of abstraction (in the Marxist sense) and wishful thinking. Within a Marxo-Hegelian context, a thought is abstract when it ignores all of the mediations in which a thing is embedded. For example, I understand a robust tree abstractly when I attribute its robustness, say, to its genetics alone, ignoring the complex relations to its soil, the air, sunshine, rainfall, etc., that also allowed it to grow robustly in this way. This is the sort of critique we’re always leveling against the neoliberals. They are abstract thinkers. In their doxa that individuals are entirely responsible for themselves and that they completely make themselves by pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, neoliberals ignore all the mediations belonging to the social and material context in which human beings develop that play a role in determining the vectors of their life. They ignore, for example, that George W. Bush grew up in a family that was highly connected to the world of business and government and that this gave him opportunities that someone living in a remote region of Alaska in a very different material infrastructure and set of family relations does not have. To think concretely is to engage in a cartography of these mediations, a mapping of these networks, from circumstance to circumstance (what I call an “onto-cartography”). It is to map assemblages, networks, or ecologies in the constitution of entities.¶ Unfortunately, the academic left falls prey to its own form of abstraction. It’s good at carrying out critiques that denounce various social formations, yet very poor at proposing any sort of realistic constructions of alternatives. This because it thinks abstractly in its own way, ignoring how networks, assemblages, structures, or regimes of attraction would have to be remade to create a workable alternative. Here I’m reminded by the “underpants gnomes” depicted in South Park:¶ The underpants gnomes have a plan for achieving profit that goes like this: Phase 1: Collect Underpants Phase 2: ? Phase 3: Profit! They even have a catchy song to go with their work:¶ Well this is sadly how it often is with the academic left. Our plan seems to be as follows: Phase 1: Ultra-Radical Critique Phase 2: ? Phase 3: Revolution and complete social transformation! Our problem is that we seem perpetually stuck at phase 1 without ever explaining what is to be done at phase 2. Often the critiques articulated at phase 1 are right, but there are nonetheless all sorts of problems with those critiques nonetheless. In order to reach phase 3, we have to produce new collectives. In order for new collectives to be produced, people need to be able to hear and understand the critiques developed at phase 1. Yet this is where everything begins to fall apart. Even though these critiques are often right, we express them in ways that only an academic with a PhD in critical theory and post-structural theory can understand. How exactly is Adorno to produce an effect in the world if only PhD’s in the humanities can understand him? Who are these things for? We seem to always ignore these things and then look down our noses with disdain at the Naomi Kleins and David Graebers of the world. To make matters worse, we publish our work in expensive academic journals that only universities can afford, with presses that don’t have a wide distribution, and give our talks at expensive hotels at academic conferences attended only by other academics. Again, who are these things for? Is it an accident that so many activists look away from these things with contempt, thinking their more about an academic industry and tenure, than producing change in the world? If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, it doesn’t make a sound! Seriously dudes and dudettes, what are you doing?¶ But finally, and worst of all, us Marxists and anarchists all too often act like assholes. We denounce others, we condemn them, we berate them for not engaging with the questions we want to engage with, and we vilify them when they don’t embrace every bit of the doxa that we endorse. We are every bit as off-putting and unpleasant as the fundamentalist minister or the priest of the inquisition (have people yet understood that Deleuze and Guattari’s Anti-Oedipus was a critique of the French communist party system and the Stalinist party system, and the horrific passions that arise out of parties and identifications in general?). This type of “revolutionary” is the greatest friend of the reactionary and capitalist because they do more to drive people into the embrace of reigning ideology than to undermine reigning ideology. These are the people that keep Rush Limbaugh in business. Well done!¶ But this isn’t where our most serious shortcomings lie. Our most serious shortcomings are to be found at phase 2. We almost never make concrete proposals for how things ought to be restructured, for what new material infrastructures and semiotic fields need to be produced, and when we do, our critique-intoxicated cynics and skeptics immediately jump in with an analysis of all the ways in which these things contain dirty secrets, ugly motives, and are doomed to fail.}

Particularity is the best standard
Price 98 (RICHARD PRICE is a former prof in the Department of Anthropology at Yale University. Later, he moved to Johns Hopkins University to found the Department of Anthropology, where he served three terms as chair. A decade of freelance teaching (University of Minnesota, Stanford University, Princeton University, University of Florida, Universidade Federal da Bahia), ensued. This article is co-authored with CHRISTIAN REUS-SMIT – Monash University – European Journal of International Relations Copyright © 1998 via SAGE Publications – http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/~courses/PoliticalScience/661B1/documents/PriceReusSmithCriticalInternatlTheoryConstructivism.pdf)
One of the central departures of critical international theory from positivism is the view that we cannot escape the interpretive moment. As George (1994: 24) argues, ‘the world is always an interpreted “thing”, and it is always interpreted in conditions of disagreement and conflict, to one degree or another’. For this reason, ‘there can be no common body of observational or tested data that we can turn to for a neutral, objective knowledge of the world. There can be no ultimate knowledge, for example, that actually corresponds to reality per se.’ This proposition has been endorsed wholeheartedly by constructivists, who are at pains to deny the possibility of making ‘Big-T’ Truth claims about the world and studiously avoid attributing such status to their findings. This having been said, after undertaking sustained empirical analyses of aspects of world politics constructivists do make ‘small-t’ truth claims about the subjects they have investigated. That is, they claim to have arrived at logical and empirically plausible interpretations of actions, events or processes, and they appeal to the weight of evidence to sustain such claims. While admitting that their claims are always contingent and partial interpretations of a complex world, Price (1995, 1997) claims that his genealogy provides the best account to date to make sense of anomalies surrounding the use of chemical weapons, and Reus-Smit (1997) claims that a culturalist perspective offers the best explanation of institutional differences between historical societies of states. Do such claims contradict the interpretive ethos of critical international theory? For two reasons, we argue that they do not. First, the interpretive ethos of critical international theory is driven, in large measure, by a normative rejection of totalizing discourses, of general theoretical frameworks that privilege certain perspectives over others. One searches constructivist scholarship in vain, though, for such discourses. With the possible exception of Wendt’s problematic flirtation with general systemic theory and professed commitment to ‘science’, constructivist research is at its best when and because it is question driven, with self-consciously contingent claims made specifically in relation to particular phenomena, at a particular time, based on particular evidence, and always open to alternative interpretations. Second, the rejection of totalizing discourses based on ‘big-T’ Truth claims does not foreclose the possibility, or even the inevitability, of making ‘small-t’ truth claims. In fact, we would argue that as soon as one observes and interacts in the world such claims are unavoidable, either as a person engaged in everyday life or as a scholar. As Nietzsche pointed out long ago, we cannot help putting forth truth claims about the world. The individual who does not cannot act, and the genuinely unhypocritical relativist who cannot struggles for something to say and write. In short, if constructivists are not advancing totalizing discourses, and if making ‘small-t’ truth claims is inevitable if one is to talk about how the world works, then it is no more likely that constructivism per se violates the interpretive ethos of critical international theory than does critical theory itself.