Abstract
Following a controversy over the construction of a waste incinerator in the Fos-sur-Mer industrial area (France), residents pointed to the lack of knowledge of the industry’s cumulative impact on their health and environment. Under pressure, some of their elected representatives supported the creation of an independent scientific organization, the Ecocitizen Institute for Pollution Awareness (Institut écocitoyen pour la connaissance des pollutions [IECP]). Its objective was to conduct localized scientific research on the effects of pollution and to lobby the administration to change its regulatory practices. This paper examines the efforts made to ensure that the “undone science” gets done, by focusing on the specificities of this industrialized site. We look at a participatory biomonitoring experiment that aimed to document pollution in the Gulf of Fos where scientists working for the IECP accepted anglers’ requests and switched from an acknowledged sentinel species to another species. We tell the many stories that were shared with us about how conger qualified as a more suitable “cosmopolitical fish” in the study of pollution. Elaborating on actor–network theory and multispecies ethnographies, we discuss the appropriateness of congers as the newly appointed sentinel species. We argue that this demonstrates the importance of the “ecology of relations” in maintaining the livability of the area.
To resist is to resist everywhere, but on a case-by-case basis, never in general. It is paying attention to each new mode of perception, to the innovation and tradition of each new type of reporting, allowing all living beings to embark on exciting adventures from the point of view of the logic of needs, and manufacturing an ever more crowded world.
Introduction
The industrial-port zone (ZIP) of Fos, about 10,000 hectares in size, is one of the largest in Europe. It was built at the end of the 1960s on the French Mediterranean coast. Following the government’s decision to approve the development, as requested by important local economic actors, metallurgical and petrochemical plants were set up and docks were constructed to accommodate large tankers and container ships. The facilities were operational within just a few years.
Since then, the region has experienced major social and environmental upheavals (Paillard 1981; Daumalin and Gramaglia forthcoming). Local residents expressed concerns, but their complaints quickly faded as the economic crisis of the 1970s hit. It was not until the industrial recovery of the 2000s and the construction of a new waste incinerator for the Marseille metropolis (EveRé), as well as gas and logistical facilities, that their discontent arose again. Under pressure from particularly intense protests (Osadtchy 2015), the elected representatives of the West Provence community of towns (seven municipalities, including Fos-sur-Mer and Port-Saint-Louis du Rhône) requested an environmental survey of the entire area before supporting the creation of an independent scientific organization, the Ecocitizen Institute for Pollution Awareness (Institut écocitoyen pour la connaissance des pollutions [IECP]) in 2010. This nonprofit association, which is located at the heart of the ZIP, develops original participatory and citizen-science approaches to document the effects of the accumulation of chemicals on the local environment and health. It conducts various studies on air, water, and soil, as well as on diverse living organisms and humans, acting as a whistle-blower capable of investigating problems that instruments, standards, and regulatory thresholds do not always manage to address adequately.
Our article focuses on a participatory biomonitoring experiment designed to assess marine pollution in the Gulf of Fos. We explain how researchers from the IECP and local fishers and anglers have worked together to find an adequate sensor, here a bioindicator, in order to gain knowledge of industrial impacts despite their encompassing a variety of phenomena that are difficult to consolidate (Turnhout, Hisschemöller, and Eijsackers 2007). For this purpose, they used the close relationships between certain living organisms and their environment, which made them the bearers of specific information on its state. 1 We particularly focus on a controversy that led fishers and anglers to choose conger (or Conger conger for European conger fish; see https://inpn.mnhn.fr/espece/cd_nom/66921) over comber fish (or Serranus cabrilla; see: https://inpn.mnhn.fr/espece/cd_nom/ 69310)—a species recommended by experts—following a proposition made by a local activist and member of the management board of the IECP. We argue that this is a cosmopolitical shift (Stengers 2010) as it addresses fishers’ and anglers’ concerns about both the pollution and the risk of its disclosure to the continuation of their activity, while aligning with the researchers’ expectations. It does not rely on a preconstituted body of knowledge or protocol. It results from hesitation, negotiation, and a collective trial, in which congers, although sacrificed in the process, are not passive (Haraway 2008, 2016). The animals’ role as a companion species is acknowledged to be highly significant scientifically as well as meaningful locally. We explain how the IECP finds original answers to both knowledge gaps (Lash, Szerszynski, and Wynne 1996; Frickel et al. 2010; Frickel and Edwards 2014) and the limits of the regulatory monitoring of marine pollution in the Gulf of Fos. We argue that the experiment we observed and analyzed was not only scientific but also cosmopolitical, and one from which we should learn about the ecological relations that matter (Schillmeier 2012, 2014) if we wish to survive in the ruins of productivism (Tsing 2015; Haraway 2016). We rely on actor–network theory and recent literature on multispecies relations (Kirksey and Helmreich 2010) to reflect on the advantages of working with living organisms, as opposed to technical monitoring instruments, to expand research collectives and produce new knowledge by other means (Callon, Lascoumes, and Barthe 2011).
The idea for this article arose from several discussions the authors engaged in while visiting colleagues at the IECP. Previously collected ethnographic materials on environmental and health risks in the ZIP fueled our initial exchanges, while a dozen supplementary, semidirected interviews were conducted more specifically on the participatory experiment with conger. We then had the opportunity to participate in one of the scientific fishing trips.
From Participatory and Citizen Sciences to Cosmopolitics
In the wake of protests over environmental and health issues, several participatory or citizen-science initiatives were launched with the support of environmental justice movements in Northern America from the 1990s on. They aimed to encourage residents to produce their own data using inexpensive DIY tools. They relied on their continuous presence in the field to identify problems, for example, pollution peaks, which the official bodies of surveillance ignored since they focus mostly on monthly or annual averages, in accordance with regulation (Ottinger 2009).
There are presently around 1,800 participative research programs on water quality monitoring in Northern America (Buytaert et al. 2014), which are dedicated to the collection of qualitative observation or quantitative data. Some of these consist of reporting waste transportation on rivers, but the most common are those testing simple chemical parameters, such as pH, turbidity, and oxygen, as well as ammonia and phosphates, for which there are low-cost and easy-to-use sampling kits. Other projects involve the identification and counting of benthic macrofauna to assess the biological and ecological quality of aquatic environments. Since scientists and government experts are not able to cover all the river systems, particularly given the drastic reduction of state resources, they limit themselves to priority measurement points on certain sections of aquatic ecosystems, and volunteers are expected to play a growing role (Savan, Morgan, and Gore 2003). In some places, only citizen surveillance supported by nongovernmental organizations (either for scientific or advocacy purposes) is exercised. This is also the case for effluents that escape regulation, such as those released by shale gas extraction (Kinchy, Parks, and Jalbert 2016).
The benefits of volunteer commitment are manifold. Volunteers are a useful, mostly unpaid, workforce capable of gathering large sets of data. While in some experiments experts simply delegate collection tasks within the framework of predetermined protocols, in others, they are more inclined to let their nonprofessional collaborators contribute to the definition of the issue at stake, the way it should be documented, and, perhaps, the interpretation that should be given to the data obtained. The literature provides criteria to classify volunteer involvement from a simple “consultative” perspective to a more “transformative” dynamic (Irwin 1995; Callon, Lascoumes, and Barthe 2011; Conrad and Hilchey 2011) although we will not review these here. More interestingly, we would like to recall that such approaches influence scientific practice so as to favor the production of new and different knowledge, whose accuracy, relevance, and legitimacy are enhanced by the fact that they necessarily integrate several points of view as well as local or lay concerns. This, despite the fact that activists, as critical knowledge makers, have encountered difficulties in having their skills and legitimacy recognized in the area of environmental monitoring, is largely dominated by scientific and technical experts (Ottinger 2009).
More recent works have nevertheless pointed to the unexpected benefits of participative and citizen-science experiments, especially when it comes to environmental sensing, that is to say an undertaking whose goal is to build knowledge about an area’s livability. These stem mainly from sharing experiences and making new connections (Gabrys 2017), possibly beyond the human (Gramaglia and Dauphin 2017). Volunteers have the opportunity to explore and document “what really matters to them”: the air they breathe, the water they drink, the relationships that sustain them, and so on, which enables them to learn by “feeling” what the territory they belong to is concretely made of (Latour 2018). This is cosmopolitics as defined by Stengers (2005): a suspension of judgment on what the world is so that it can be progressively composed by trial and error, that is, working toward the congruence of potentially divergent practices while taking into account the secondary consequences of the choices to be made. It implies considering a larger scope of obligation (Despret and Meuret 2016). From this perspective, collaboration between experts and volunteers does not only fill gaps of knowledge or advocate for more stringent regulation but also crafts new attachments and triggers acute attentiveness to other ways of being and other kinds of living beings.
The concept of cosmopolitics itself takes the opposite view to that of the cosmopolitanism once coined by Emmanuel Kant. It does not refer to citizens, freed from political, social, or even religious attributes, belonging to a common world (thanks to a shared interest on which they converge). On the contrary, cosmopolitics stems from the constructivist perspective that the “common cosmos” is not given but must be built on matter, as articulated concerns as well as materials with their variable properties. It therefore allows us to consider a plurality of possible, often competing, realities (James 1909) rather than a unified, “already there” external nature. Various versions of the world can then be enacted through trial and error, for the questions to be addressed are those of composition: what world do we want to live in and how do we cohabitate with others (whoever they are) knowing that the way we do that may put some of us or them under threat? The main interest of this approach is to avoid the distinction between facts and values, which tends to depoliticize systematically all our choices and trap the majority of us in helplessness. On the contrary, we are urged to take an active part in this collective making and face our responsibilities as members of a larger inextricable collective. Stengers provides strong arguments for critiquing forms of knowledge that tend to silence others. Rather, she advises that diplomats should take primacy over experts, for no one should claim a privileged relationship with truth and authority.
Elaborating on our empirical material, we would like to argue that the move made by IECP scientists—that of giving up a bioindicator and sentinel species previously validated by science, the comber fish, in favor of an unknown challenger, the conger, at the request of fishers and anglers—was truly “cosmopolitical.” Rather than an act of renunciation under pressure that would indicate a weakening of scientific independence, it represented a daring and fruitful diplomatic decision that opened up new perspectives in terms of knowledge both about the contamination of the Gulf of Fos and the ecology of the relations that constitute it. This paper will show that while congers were well qualified as a sentinel species or indicator of their environment, according to academic criteria, a risk was nonetheless taken. The research was slowed down in order that divergent local voices could be heard.
For a better understanding of how new knowledge about the Gulf of Fos could be produced and of its positive effects on pollution science, we shall recall the creation of the IECP and the origin of the research that interests us. We turn now to the organizational arrangements leading to the development of participative and citizen-science practices.
A Network of Volunteers to Monitor Pollution “Differently”
The regulatory surveillance of the water quality in the Gulf of Fos was established at the same time as the first French national monitoring network in the late 1970s, the Réseau National d’Observation (RNO). The first species 2 used were mussels (as in the US Mussel Watch program, created around the same time). Since then, the bivalve has become a standard sentinel of marine pollution worldwide, due to its practicality. It can be caged and transported easily but is also low maintenance. Its simple metabolism qualified it as a “good enough model animal” (Lewis et al. 2013). However, the Gulf of Fos, which was undergoing major transformations due to forced industrialization, was also chosen, along with five other sites, for regular extended monitoring. Samples of water, sediment, and wild living organisms, such as commercial fish, started to be taken monthly and annually to assess the levels of contaminants (heavy metals, hydrocarbons, and organochlorines initially). This was coordinated with the state officials responsible for marine affairs (Affaires maritimes supervised at the time by the Direction départementale de l’équipement [DDE]) and added to surveillance carried out by the industrialists themselves on their own effluents. Species such as bream, sea bass, mullet, barbet, hake, or even turbot have also been picked up in the context of more specific studies. Since then, significant organizational changes have occurred with the European Water Framework Directive and the Marine Strategy Framework Directive. 3 New services were created, such as the Regional Office for Land and Sea (Direction des territoires et de la mer [DDTM], which replaced the DDE) and the Regional Office for the Environment, Planning, and Housing (Direction de l’environnement, l’aménagement et le logement [DREAL]). 4 They are both in charge of regulatory monitoring, the first focusing on the environment and the second on the control of industrial effluents. These services produce their own data but also rely on IFREMER, the French technical institute for marine research, for its scientific expertise. The IFREMER took over the RNO and is now known as the Coastal Chemical Contamination Observation Network (Réseau d’Observation de la Contamination Chimique du Littoral [ROCCH]). The IFREMER also launched two monitoring networks the 1990s: the Network of Biological Integrators, Réseau des Intégrateurs Biologiques en Méditerranée (RINBIO), monitoring forty-one priority substances in the flesh of caged mussels across the entire Mediterranean Sea, and the Network for Assessing the Quality of Harbor Water and Sediments, known under the acronym Réseau National de Surveillance des Ports Maritimes (REPOM). While various data are produced and published regularly, including on consumed fish, the way in which they are gathered and analyzed remains unquestioned.
The Gulf of Fos is now classified by the Watershed Agency Rhone Corse and Mediterranean as a coastal water body whose chemical quality is poor and ecological quality is average. Heavy metals, such as mercury, remain a problem, particularly in sediments. Its concentration in mussels is thought to be twice as high as the national average despite a downward trend (IFREMER 2015). Several recent studies in regulatory surveillance and risk assessment conclude that, despite persistent concentrations of heavy metals, hydrocarbons, PCBs, and pesticides, the levels can be considered moderate and without impact on health as they remain below the World Health Organization (WHO) limits. They are also lower than in other sampling stations, such as the Toulon military harbor, further east.
Notwithstanding the amount of testing carried out for regulatory surveillance, the development of new industrial and port infrastructure continued apace. Protest was robust and took various forms. These included a petition to the European authorities denouncing the “overpolluted” state of the area and questioning the ability of conventional methods and instruments to grasp the complexity of the phenomena under scrutiny, that is, the accumulation and synergistic effects of low doses of contaminants over time. This was the context for the IECP’s creation in 2010. Prior to the launch of EveRé, the new waste treatment facility in the ZIP, residents of the West Provence municipalities urged their elected representatives to request a specific environmental diagnosis or “point zero” of the area, in addition to the standard plant impact assessment required by law, in order to give an overview of the environmental and health risks across the area. Led by a public research institute in consultation with various local stakeholders, this study allowed the identification of pollution hot spots and pointed to gaps in knowledge regarding the quality of water, air, and soils in the Gulf of Fos. Upon its presentation at public meetings, however, the survey was widely criticized in its methods and sampling sites and for its failure to address epidemiological issues. In this climate of suspicion and mistrust, a decision was made to support new investigations by providing the area with its own, independent, scientific organization able to scrutinize the cumulative effects of industrial activity.
The finance for the new association—around half a million euros—was allocated from tax revenues generated by the waste incinerator, the building of which they had not been able to prevent. A chemical engineer was employed as director, along with a permanent team of young scientists that included a doctor of environmental chemistry, a doctor in chemistry and health, a technician, an administrative officer, and a communications professional. Further associates have been brought in since, including a doctor of physiology and molecular genetics and an engineer in ecology and biosciences. In 2011, after several months of preparation, the first studies on atmospheric emission sources, ultrafine particles, and the bioimpregnation of lichens could finally begin. The following year saw the first marine investigations that were to form a large part of the IECP’s work.
The originality of the IECP lies in its structure (see Figure 1). It is chaired by a scientist, currently the director of the Laboratory of Environmental Chemistry at the University of Marseille. Its Management Board (Conseil d’administration [CA]) includes local councilors, members of local advocacy groups, economic stakeholders, the regional Chamber of Commerce, and the port authorities, as well as a few companies located in the ZIP. 5 The Scientific Council (SC), counting fourteen academics and health professionals, is the controlling body. It examines and authorizes research proposals made by IECP scientific staff upon request or proposal of the Board. The reverse may also be true as IECP scientific staff can suggest lines of research and submit them to both the Board and the SC. This structure in three poles (CA, CS, and IECP scientific staff—whose exchanges are mediated by the president and the director for most of the year, except at the general meeting when they are direct) is complemented by a network of Volunteers for Citizen Observation of the Environment (VOCE). They are responsible for tracing testimonials and questions to investigate and for the coordination of certain research activities. Their involvement is promoted by valuing their knowledge and skills at different stages and also through tailored training that can help them formulate questions, support their arguments, and gather evidence on problems they might suspect or need to document. The aim is to produce knowledge that is relevant to the area (Waterton and Tsouvalis 2015) in the sense that it responds to residents’ questions and fills gaps while dealing with the physical, biological, and social specificities of the ZIP. Involving volunteers is also political since it is a question of giving them—and the local communities they represent—access to new knowledge and evidence that can strengthen their capacity for argument and action.

Institut écocitoyen pour la connaissance des pollutions [Ecocitizen Institute for Pollution Awareness] structuring and functioning.
The VOCE network currently has around fifty volunteers living in various localities in the Gulf of Fos and a control area. Their contribution to the collective research effort is made according to their aptitudes, motivations, and preferences, where citizen observations often evolve from amateur practice into intellectual passion (Charvolin and Roux 2013). This is the case for certain fishers or anglers who have good local knowledge, are witness to the changes affecting their area, and who possess the skills (and tools, i.e., boats) to take part in marine monitoring. One example is Olivier, a pensioner, member of the Fos-sur-Mer yacht club, diver, and supporter of the advocacy group, Association for the Defense and Protection of the Gulf of Fos (ADPLGF). He chose to get involved with the VOCE network in order to share his knowledge of the area: I followed the meetings; we met each other and then they asked if I wanted to participate. There was an investigation into the sea, the environment…. So, as I have a boat, I took part…. We’ve been in the Gulf for forty years and I know its peculiarities. Originally, they were looking for volunteers to do surveys. I thought it would be interesting to share all that I know about the area…. Since the construction of the new installations, there has been a lot of disruption. Today, we are suffering the effects…. There used to be fish in abundance, but, today, depending on the season, there is almost nothing… They asked us, initially…. And then, it’s true that the future of the Gulf is interesting. This is our playground; we live with it. It’s good to see how it evolves.
All of the IECP’s participatory scientific experiments, whether water sampling, fishing, monitoring marine ecosystems, lichen observation, or the cultivation of petunias or salad leaves, serve complementary purposes; they produce data on the damage caused by industry to air, water, soil, and the living organisms that depend on them. The volunteers see the experiments as an opportunity to better understand the state of their surroundings so that effective action can be taken. Engaging in knowledge production is, for them, the only way to reclaim their rights to the land in the face of its degradation, whether the experiments are more participative or citizen-science oriented, according to the topics and protocols (Gramaglia and Dauphin 2017).
VOCE volunteers always show great deference to the IECP scientists (and vice versa). This attitude, which we observed on many occasions, contrasts with the doubt and even mistrust that are expressed about the authorities—for example, DREAL, which controls industrial activity. Industry figures are also accused of “not playing the game,” meaning they are not making the effort to produce data relevant to the population or to use the best available techniques to limit their environmental emissions. The stories we gathered were filled with anecdotes illustrating bad practice and the residents’ feelings of contempt in trying to find out more. For these reasons, the IECP, which presents itself as an independent scientific body although locally focused (and largely funded by the local municipalities), appears as a safeguard in which the volunteers have gained trust. They are largely comfortable with the division of tasks as defined in the statutes of the association. The procedures allow them to make their voices heard at different times: from the collection of study proposals to the construction of protocols, data collection, monitoring, and the discussion of results, depending on the question being addressed and the methods required.
Reflecting on the accomplishments made possible by the IECP, we would like to state that this original association is a civic, technoscientific organization with a mediating role able to normalize and formalize spaces to create knowledge by other means while translating local concerns into accepted and credible academic practices (Wylie, Jalbert, and Dosemagen 2014). Focusing on a real experiment and controversy, we will now see how local lay actors have managed to influence the research process so that new knowledge could be produced, thanks to a change of bioindicator and sentinel species. We will underline the role nonhumans have played in this.
Conger as a Trustworthy Witness and Sentinel Species
Searching for the right sentinel species
The selection of species, while justifiable in terms of health considerations (testing seafood that can be found at the market), is usually exclusively managed by experts. It is hardly ever discussed. However, at the public meetings held in the 2000s in Fos-sur-Mer as part of the legal consultation procedures upstream of new development projects, there were protests by activists and residents as well as fishing enthusiasts. The age and mobility of the fish chosen by the experts came under particular criticism for their inability to give precise information about the state of the marine environment in the Gulf of Fos. This was explained by Jacques, a shopkeeper from Port-Saint-Louis du Rhône, brother of a fisher, angler himself, activist, and member of the Management Board of the IECP. He was convinced that choosing juveniles, whose life span is too short for the bioaccumulation of contaminants, was a scam. He also doubted that a nonsedentary fish could provide relevant information about pollution specific to a given place. I did not agree with the choice of fish…. What shocked me a bit was that the expert had caught flat fish. I do not remember whether they were small turbot or something similar. But it was obvious they were juveniles! So that had already shocked me…. And then it was fish that were migrating…
According to the director of the IECP, the outcry was immediate. The association was criticized for wanting to use a particularly valued fish. They feared a ban. To this were added doubts expressed by Jacques on the spatial representativeness of combers. These fish live in rocky environments, whereas half of the Gulf of Fos, including the immediate surroundings of the ZIP, are sandy. It would have proven difficult to take sufficient quantities of the fish from all the planned sampling points. Jacques suggested using the conger instead, which could be found everywhere, and grew big and old enough to bioaccumulate high levels of contaminants.
Left image: Serranus cabrilla; right image: Conger conger.
Congers are sea fish that look a lot like eels. However, they are distinguished by highly developed pectoral fins. It is a species that spends most of its youth near the coast before breeding late in the depths, then dying at about fifteen to twenty years. Prior to undergoing the physical transformations that make them suitable for migration, they can live several decades and grow to reach an average size of two meters and ten kilograms. They are common in the Mediterranean. They enjoy both rocky and sandy environments. Formidable hunters, they have sharp teeth that allow them to feed on fish and crustaceans. Some sport anglers appreciate their qualities as wrestlers, but professional fishers see them as competitors, able to destroy nets. Fishing them is not easy. It requires building and rigging a strong long line at night and returning in the morning. In addition, the conger’s market value is lower than that of other species. They are fished when nothing else can be caught. They are full of ridges and must be emptied and washed quickly after capture or they produce a strong, even nauseating smell.
Yet, C. conger has hardly been studied. Only a few articles have examined its biology: a dozen since 2002 (Source: Web of Science). They count the stocks or the structure of populations or describe its lifecycle in relation to its diet or genetic characteristics. Only one article authored by an Italian team from Bari University focuses on its possible contribution to ecotoxicology (see Storelli et al. 2012 for DDT and PCBs). The other publications, while not focused on this species in particular, raise the question of its utility in assessing, along with others, the extent of chemical pollution (see Chahid et al. 2014 for cadmium and lead off the coast of Morocco; Alcaro et al. 2012 or Della Torre et al. 2010 for chemical weapon residue in the Adriatic). Nonetheless, its distinctive characteristics are interesting, particularly its position at the top of the trophic chain. This means that it coalesces and even amplifies the exposure of other organisms to contamination as it ingests them and their contaminants (a phenomenon that biologists also call biomagnification). At the same time, the sexual homogeneity of its coastline populations is promising. They are mostly young females that prefer to inhabit holes in the rocks, shipwrecks, sand, and even mud at the bottom of the sea, which they rarely leave (Dron, Revenko, and Chamaret 2017). Their prolonged period of sexual inactivity contributes to their candidacy for sentinel species since breeding animals tend to pass on contaminants to their descendants. Focusing on immature females decreases the risk of underestimating pollution due to sex-related metabolic, behavioral differences and further elimination during spawning.
The IECP scientists proceeded to conduct their study with the conger. A protocol was designed collectively with the help of fishers from Fos-sur-Mer and Port-Saint-Louis du Rhône, Jacques, and the Port-de-Bouc yacht club members who had made their boats available and prepared long lines. A measurement campaign was started at the end of summer 2012, during which twenty-three specimens were captured. They were eviscerated and their fillets tested with chromatography for heavy metals, hydrocarbons, and organic compounds (samples were prepared at the IECP laboratory and then transferred to facilities at the University of Marseille, apart from those for dioxins, furans, and the byproducts of chlorination, which were analyzed in a privately accredited laboratory). The results were somewhat surprising. Contrary to expectation, the levels of PCBs were below the regulatory thresholds. Conversely, high levels of mercury were recorded in 20 percent of the samples, with some above the norms for consumption (particularly in specimens taken from east of the gulf). High levels of arsenic and chlorinated compounds were also detected (Dron, Revenko, and Chamaret 2017).
For the purposes of the experiment, as subaltern species or “unloved others,” to draw on Rose and van Dooren’s work (2011), the congers performed better than expected. Disliked by fishers because of the damage they can cause, in this case, an unwanted encounter turned into a multispecies enabling arrangement (Haraway 2008; Kirksey and Helmreich 2010; Tsing 2015). The IECP scientists and fishers and anglers involved in a participatory and citizen-science experiment were aided by the congers in undertaking an environmental assessment that had simply not been completed by the state services or industry. If we are to believe later comments made about the research upon its public presentation, no other species could have spoken more accurately for the entire Gulf of Fos, as a territorial entity encompassing physical, biological, and social differences and tensions.
While combers may have given us information on the ZIP’s coastal waters to the east, known for their rocky marine environments, no species would have been able to speak for its western parts. No comparison or proper mapping would have been possible. Finally, as the IECP analyses proved, the congers’ attachment to the area, along with their distribution, life expectancy, size, and sexual homogeneity confirmed their unique suitability to the task. In addition, compared to mussels, they proved capable of great amplification, that is, making chronic diffuse pollution more discernable. The levels of contamination they measured far exceeded regulatory thresholds. Being carnivorous, they gave a more precise account of what other species, their prey, are exposed to. The scientific evidence they helped produce was judged robust enough to be submitted to a high-ranking, academic, peer-reviewed journal specializing in marine pollution (Dron et al. In Press).
Conger fish on social and administrative trial
The results were first presented at the Port-de-Bouc yacht club. Despite the reluctance of the club’s president, the opportunity was seized at the annual general meeting. Facing a lukewarm audience, the director of the IECP had to argue persuasively for the importance of the new knowledge “to safeguard, for professionals and boaters, a marine environment as uncontaminated as possible.” The approach seemed to work. According to Charles, a retiree of National Education and a member of the yacht club’s environment section and of VOCE: At first he [the club’s president] did not want us to publish them [the results]…. Following the [newspaper] article, people started to speak up—those who worked in the sector. They said, “well—that mercury—we used to dump it into the sea.” So, for them, it was not such a surprise. We know how mussels live. They have a breeding period when we cannot sample. We take them and carry out all our analyses during their rest period. All this is scientific. But which scientists have really worked on the life of the conger? Do you know? The problem is…there are phenomena of nature itself we do not know about; we do not have an adequate perspective on the life of certain species to be able to say: “this is how it is”… These results, when you have them, are like a hot potato: What do you do with them? Knowing that I always fought to do things that made sense, this time it was almost too much! Now, I can tell you. We had unbelievable results…. It was not a big surprise for me. Again, 15 or 20 years earlier, I had seen some [PCBs] on this site, and the only flaw is that I realized that there was a gap in the data; maybe that is why it was not trivial—a gap of 25 years in the search for these parameters in the Gulf of Fos, at least in terms of living matter…. And what did they [authorities and IFREMER] say? “Why on Earth did you decide to do that?” I answered, because I cared about my work, and my congers were even more bioaccumulating than I had imagined. They were good friends! […] It seemed to me that they could be interesting from this perspective…. It is not a popular fish on the Sunday table. But the mud conger that is present in the Gulf of Fos is endemic and also a scavenger that concentrates, so it seemed to me something interesting to observe…. But the whole thing went down the tubes—so much so that in the end I said, “I am finished!”
Discussing the Cosmopolitical Dimensions of Sensing Practices
With its private scientific status, its atypical mode of financing, its modes of collaboration, and its local integration, the IECP claims to produce “new, solid, and locally relevant knowledge” as expressed by its director and president. The association wishes to develop a true science “from below”—one that is fairer, since it stems from the concerns and claims of residents and makes breakthroughs when compared to the standard practices (Harding 2008). Indeed, despite the fact that the conger experiment received scant attention from state officials, it had several scientific and societal consequences. First, it enabled the association to map contamination hot spots and inform fishers, anglers, and recreational boaters. Having identified the source of mercury pollution, discussions with former industry workers and members of the Port-de-Bouc yacht club provided an opportunity to question publicly why a specific plant had been granted an exemption, allowing it to release such a noxious heavy metal into the Gulf of Fos. Although it cannot be said that the IECP’s results, relayed by the West Provence municipalities, were enough to push the authorities to enforce the law, they may well have hastened the termination of that exemption a few months later. 6 The study gained further scientific value in having pointed to an important but less investigated issue in the area—that of pollution resulting from the emission of the by-products of chlorination used in industrial water-pumping pipes to prevent their colonization by living organisms such as mollusks. Seeing that this was completely undocumented, the IECP applied for a national grant to proceed with a new participatory and citizen-science research project. It received funding and is currently in progress.
The positive effects of the participatory and citizen-science conger study have reached even further. As evidence emerged, the residents and their elected representatives had their demands met, and although the state services paid little attention, such concerns will become increasingly difficult to ignore as further evidence is produced and the volunteers’ convictions and scientific literacy grow. A new collective understanding of the situation was achieved, carrying with it the seeds of future claims. The convergence of interests between scientists, fishers, anglers, and yacht club members became significant. Working together was not a given, but they managed to do so, exploring what it means to live in an industrial area while imagining alternative realities. Volunteers do not expect the factories to cease operations—indeed, the economic and social life of the Gulf of Fos has grown dependent on them—but they long for their cohabitation to become less harmful. This could be achieved by reducing toxic effluents and reinforcing democratic control over their activities.
Social scientists commonly claim that conventional, community-based research must seek to empower specific actors who would not usually have a say in the management of an area. However, the work of the IECP is cosmopolitical in that it “empowers a situation” (Stengers 2010), meaning that it considers and values attachments, or the ecology of human and nonhuman relations, that make a place what it is. The idea is then to “‘force thought’ in those affected […] and ‘slow down’ the reasoning of established experts necessary to any redistribution of expertise” (Whatmore and Ländstrom 2011, 585). As mentioned earlier, the IECP is a product of a specific and controversial history. Its objective is to generate clearer understanding and to encourage greater regulation of the industry in the ZIP. Thus, it must involve in its research those who would be affected by the results, as well as living organisms that may also be a natural resource, and researchers prepared to take risks with the scientific community and regulatory bodies, thereby producing new knowledge by other means. This level of collaboration has allowed the IECP to attest to the effects of contamination and environmental damage, making visible that which was previously invisible. It has been able to stress how problematic the livability of the Gulf of Fos has become and make its future an issue.
The conger played a key role in the process. It should not be taken as a mere passive sensor with the “bioaccumulative” ability to inform us about the state of the environment. It has many other qualities that make it particularly good to work with. For instance, it provides precise and accurate information, while preserving various practices and therefore the complexity of the cosmos that it shares with humans. What makes this fish a truly cosmopolitical being is that it was chosen after a negotiation that made it possible to meet both physiochemical and ecological requirements, as well as the local social and economic specificities, at the risk of having the results dismissed (Mélard and Stassart 2017). Unlike the mussels sampled once or twice a year along the French coast by IFREMER, which only has two stations in the Gulf of Fos, the conger provides more precise information about the presence and effects of contaminants over a longer period of time, while minimizing disruption to the local activity—in this case, fishing. What was remarkable in this experiment was the convergence of social and scientific concerns. The IECP’s dynamics and methods meant that their protocol was able to include the views of fishers, anglers, and residents. Respecting the “neutrality and autonomy of science” would have imposed the use of combers, whereas the collaborative approach, taking into account the cosmopolitical dimension, and hence complexity, of the situation (Hinchliffe et al. 2005), favors “situated” science (Haraway 1988). The latter is capable of integrating a diversity of perspectives, from the identification of the issue up to the interpretation of the results, without sacrificing its rigor.
Switching to a cosmopolitical argument leads to complementary issues. The controversy over the kind of knowledge that is needed cannot be disconnected from that around the kind of world we want to live in. Facts and values are intricately linked, and their joint—nondisconnected—deliberation helps to make sense of biomonitoring experiments like the one we are discussing. If nature is the building block of conventional, state-like expertise, it is not helpful in situations where facts and values must be assessed and worlds composed. We have tried to show that the ambiguity regarding the selection of the “right” fish as a bioindicator results in modulating how the world is made up, that is, which beings are recognized as relevant and legitimate both scientifically (in terms of designing protocols) and socially (in terms of human and nonhuman beings whose perspective must be taken into account, see Latour 2004). Contrary to a fixist view, where nature is defined by stable elements, requiring unequivocal, standardized, and reproducible expertise, adopting a negotiating position in the world is much more attuned to the diversity and uncertainty of life itself. Cosmopolitics involves making difficult decisions between competing interests and worldviews while appealing to everyone’s concerns and response-ability (Haraway 2016). Conflict is the sign that it is in the making. Finding troublesome results is a risk that must be faced by fishers, anglers, public bodies, and industry, as well as residents now informed that their becoming is a becoming-with other species too (and a matter of collective attention).
In the end, data presented by the IECP and its network of volunteers are slowly changing how the Gulf of Fos is apprehended. It is no longer seen as a vast environment capable of diluting all pollution (mercury, PCBs), as first thought by the ZIP’s founders, but as vulnerable to various cumulative toxic pressures. Industry, and its discharge of chlorinated fresh water, has become a major tributary, altering temperatures, pH, and salinity. This observation results from the participatory biomonitoring experiment on conger. In addition to the quantitative knowledge it produced, the overall experience contributed to a re-politicizing of bioindicator choices. We already knew that sensor positioning significantly influences output (Calvillo 2018), but the IECP’s work shows that choosing a living organism is of major importance. Results vary according to the species selected (Mitman and Fausto-Sterling 1992), but this does not disqualify any species a priori; rather, it suggests that the right choice must be made for the issue at hand (and comparing data across several species could even be required for an accurate understanding of pollution and its concrete effects on the environment). The conger is doing very well here but would not necessarily be an ideal sentinel in all situations nor could its results be generalized without prior investigation. 7 Mussels are not a bad bioindicator when it comes to remotely monitoring large expanses of sea (just as IFREMER’s bulk analysis of commercial fish caught by professional trawlers is a good method to assess general risk to consumers). However, they do not tell us what is occurring on a smaller scale, which is significant when considering the importance of understanding precisely what happened in the Gulf of Fos.
Conclusion
The choice of conger stemmed from practices informed by multispecific attentiveness (Van Dooren, Kirksey, and Münster 2016). Connected to cosmopolitics, it implies putting politics back where experts tend to settle coldly on an adequate sentinel species and the meaning of the data it helped to produce. For the objective is not only to provide additional data but also to “reroute or even circumvent and challenge the usual institution and practices” that perform environmental monitoring and maybe metrics too, as stated by Jennifer Gabrys (2016). Other experiences, other ways of presenting data, other opportunities to interpret them generate new connections and possibilities for change. It also brings the attention on the “ecology of relations” necessary to maintain the livability of the area. However, these come in an unfavorable context. The state and its regional officials have not modified their habits. Although one may think, like Bruno Latour (2018), that citizens engaged with the IECP can teach the authorities a lesson on how to proceed (in an exploratory way to make the evaluation and management risks “land”), the latter are not receptive. They are convinced they are acting in the public interest. In this case, it is certainly a matter of protecting an industry in difficulty but also a threatened sector: professional maritime fishing. Two perspectives clash: that of residents intent on benefiting from a distributed, re-politicized, embedded standpoint, and that of state officials defending their unilateral, nature-based vision from above. The former assume that a bioindicator should be experimented with and chosen in consultation with local actors. Yet the latter have the power to set the agenda, and they have internalized a number of social and economic constraints without ever debating them. It is a situation of blockage that the production of additional data will not alone solve. One solution might be for the IECP to highlight, even more, its “composition” work (as opposed to that of the state, which tends to merely repeat what is thought to be the a priori overarching interests). Using the theoretical power of cosmopolitics, this article has made its importance clear, but those taking the first steps on a particular path rarely promote their own agenda—probably because they are busy acquiring the scientific credibility they need to be heard under the still-present “modernist regime,” despite evidence of its ineffectiveness in responding to ecological urgency. Our contribution as sociologists lies precisely here, recalling the advantages of hesitations, fumbling, and negotiations that are erased from memory and do not appear in scientific reports or articles. Indeed, following diplomatic efforts, a new approach is needed—one that promotes socioscientific innovation, in the hope that it “swarms” (Connolly 2017), until change is achieved and toxic issues can be managed in a more integrative, qualitative, and fairer, that is, cosmopolitical way.
Footnotes
Acknowledgments
We would like to thank Julien Dron and Philippe Chamaret at the IECP as well as Jacques Carle, local activist and angler. Without their patient answers to questions, even the most insisting ones, this article could not have been written. Our gratefulness also goes to the two anonymous reviewers who challenged us with their requests and to our native proofreader, Sophie Bradford, for her kind support and rigor. “This article was made possible thanks to the support of the Labex DRIIHM (CNRS Investment for the Future), the Human–Environment Interaction Observatory of the Mediterranean Littoral and the Belgian Scientific Research Fund (FNRS—Project TRIAL-WISD: Walloon Institute for Sustainable Development). We are also indebted to Julien Dron and Philippe Chamaret of the IECP and local activist and angler Jacques Carle for their patient answers to our questions.”
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This article was made possible thanks to the support of the Labex DRIIHM (CNRS Investment for the Future) and the Human–Environment Interaction Observatory of the Mediterranean Littoral.
