Understandings of Responsibility Amongst Sāmoan Diaspora in Greater Brisbane,Australia

Western Conceptualisations of Responsibility in the Literature

Responsibility can be challenging to define, operating, like most sociological concepts, ‘within a web of other concepts’ (Lucas, 1993, p. 9). Responsibility theory has largely been debated within the field of philosophy in relation to ethics (moral responsibility, e.g., Williams, 2012), legality (legal responsibility, e.g., Long, 1999) and citizenship (political responsibility, e.g., Dunn, 1990). While the topic was appreciated by classical sociologists such as Durkheim, Habermas, Parsons and Weber, the topic has been of limited interest to sociologists in the past few decades and the concept arguably remains largely underdeveloped (Strydom, 1999). Indeed, responsibility is often discussed as something we either all care about or something to be completely ignored, typically failing to recognise the intertwined and interconnected social practices and roles (Strydom, 1999)

Sociological literature that does focus on responsibility often describes the concept in relation to societal or social responsibility (e.g., Delanty, 1999, pp. 156–157; Strydom, 1999) or has a focus on risk (e.g., Beck, 1992; Lupton, 2006). The former of these aims to shift focus away from solely individual responsibility to one of collective responsibility, particularly in relation to global challenges such as the environment or the climate crisis (e.g., Mailer, 2009). The latter focuses on social responses to how risk is viewed in society, particularly in relation to precarity and uncertainty (e.g., Groves, 2014). Both bring a sociological lens to understanding responsibility at a macro level, particularly in relation to systemic change and/or how institutions and structures shape experiences and understandings of responsibilities.

Similarly, responsibility has also been explored within the social policy and feminist literature, centring on the gendered construction of responsibility. This is perhaps most extensive in relation to caregiving, work and welfare, highlighting the unequal distribution of caregiving responsibilities within the family (e.g., Baxter et al., 2023; Sullivan, 2019) and devaluing of caring professions within the labour market (e.g., Block et al., 2018; England et al., 2002). Ethics of care theorists, such as Tronto (1993) and Kittay (2011), have argued that responsibility must be reconceptualised as a collective, relational practice rather than an individual moral attribute, challenging neoliberal policy models that individualise risk and obligation.

This is not to say that the micro level is not also of interest to sociologists, particularly in relation to person-to-person interactions. This manifests in the sociological literature on responsibility in two main ways. First, ‘questions of responsibility arise whenever a person is expected by some other person(s) to act in a certain way’ (Williams, 2012, p. 824). Indeed, ‘[t]he “burden” and “privilege” aspects of responsibility have a deep relation to the role of moral and other normative expectations in enabling social interaction’ (Williams, 2012, p. 822). Other scholars have described responsibility as ‘linked to questions of participation,’ ‘one's social and emotional enmeshment in the collectivity one feels responsible to’ (Hage, 2012, p. 112), ‘linked fate’ (Reyes, 2020, p. 785) and ‘valid components of citizenship’ (Bolzendahl & Coffe, 2009, p. 766). Thus, while the focus here is largely on the micro level, the links back to the macro level are evident in the links to the broader sociological phenomena and notions of collectivity described above (Munro, 2011).

The second way in which responsibility is described in the sociological literature is the neoliberal conceptualisation of individual responsibility. I am referring here to the idea that we have a personal responsibility to fulfil our potential and to be our best selves, and to meet our own needs (Maman & Rosenhek, 2019; Savini, 2019; Shamir, 2008). Additionally, neoliberalism encourages the use of charity and civil society-led initiatives rather than relying on government ‘handouts’ (Parsell et al., 2021; Pyysiäinen et al., 2017). This again creates a focus of responsibility on the micro level, with a strong emphasis on individual needs and obligations, rather than collective needs.

Pasifika Conceptualisations of Responsibility in the Literature

How responsibility is described in Pasifika literature differs from the descriptions outlined above yet is still arguably sociological in its approach. Across Pasifika literature, for example, there is often a strong emphasis on collectivism and on ‘obligations’ to kin, or what Williams (2012, p. 822) described as ‘prospective responsibilities’ (see, e.g., Fa’aea & Enari, 2021; Fainga‘a-Manu Sione et al., 2023; Fetui, 2020). However, it is important here to be aware of the connotations that the English language word ‘obligation’ imbues. Use of the word obligation − or its synonyms such as duty, burden, imperative, or commitment − is often used in the scholarly literature to indicate negativity. These connotations are not as prevalent when reading Pasifika literature, where these obligations are often described as being carried out with alofa (love) and tautua (reciprocity of service). Literature which discusses Sāmoan culture and populations often refers to this using the word fa‘alavelave, which does not directly translate into English but may be understood to encompass monetary gifts but also the performance of social responsibilities for major life events such as births, weddings and funerals (Ala‘ilima & Ala‘ilima, 1994; Lilomaiava-Doktor, 2009a). Fa‘alavelave is frequently described as central to Sāmoan life and remains an important cultural practice in which reciprocity is central (Lilomaiava-Doktor, 2009a; Va’a, 2001).

Building on this, Faleolo (2019) demonstrates that these obligations can extend across transnational spaces, including financial obligations to kin residing elsewhere, and how this may influence migration decisions, such as taking a better paid job in Brisbane, Australia, over a more prestigious but less well-paid job in Auckland, Aotearoa New Zealand. Stanley and Kearney (2017) describe the tensions that these obligations can cause among Sāmoan youth, particularly when they conflict with personal desires or goals that are often elevated within broader, mainstream Australian society, such as the attainment of tertiary education qualifications (see also Esera & Viliamu, 2025). Yet it is important to note that these responsibilities or obligations are not necessarily viewed by diaspora in a negative light. Indeed, noted above, these responsibilities or obligations form part of fa‘asāmoa, which roughly translates as the Sāmoan way of life, and encompasses dimensions such as extended family or kin group, service, love and respect (Lilomaiava-Doktor, 2009a). Lilomaiava-Doktor (2009a, p. 8) highlights that Sāmoans develop ‘one's āiga [kin or extended family] relationships through responsibilities that are maintained over time’. The importance of relationships and cultural expectations should thus be emphasised in any discussion around responsibility.

This is not to say that Pasifika notions of responsibility do not also focus on global challenges. Tui Atua (2018), for example, discusses a Sāmoan framing of responsibility for responding to the climate crisis. Enari and Jameson (2021) similarly discuss climate justice to demonstrate the way in which the Sāmoan diaspora remain connected to the Islands. Notions of responsibility among Sāmoan diasporic communities, however, typically ‘demands (sic) a collectivist or communal orientation that gives priority to group needs’ and ‘upholds a sense of self in relation to others’ (Kearney et al., 2011, p. 147). This indicates a fluidity in everyday practice between macro (global responsibility) and micro (personal responsibility) that is not typically found in sociological literature on responsibility.

Responsibility to the Household

There was no standard household composition for the participants in this study. However, they largely consisted of extended family groups: parent(s); children (including adult children); grandparents; and sometimes adult siblings and/or aunts/uncles. Importantly, however, the exact makeup of each household varied at different times, with family members, especially parents or adult siblings, often being transient, moving between houses (within the Greater Brisbane area), cities (within Australia) and countries (to Aotearoa New Zealand or Samoa). The participants shared stories of how these shifts in household composition influenced choices they made, especially in terms of contributing financially to the household. Talia, for instance, explained how her brother had ‘gone straight into work’ rather than pursuing higher education to help financially support their family after their father had died. She had also decided to take a ‘gap year’ between high school and university to earn some extra money to help her family:

I just waited that year and then I kind of spent that year just working, trying to help with my family as well… My pay just goes to like supporting like my family, doing whatever I need to do with the money. Bills, you know, all that semi-adult stuff. (Talia)

However, discussions of responsibility to the household extended beyond financial contributions. Many participants described caring responsibilities for both younger siblings as well as older family members. Siblings were often discussed in interviews, with participants expressing a strong sense of responsibility to younger siblings to ensure that they had the best opportunities available to them. Some participants described being involved in decisions about their younger siblings’ schooling. This might include attending parent−teacher meetings at school or helping with homework. Natia, for example, described how she took the day off from work to attend a parent−school meeting following a conflict that her younger brother had been involved in at high school:

So I took a day off work to go to my brother's [school] interview. Cause my brother was like, oh he really wants me to come cause my parents don’t really understand English properly and he doesn’t want my mum to misunderstand. Cause my dad was working so he couldn’t go. So my brother doesn’t want Mum to say anything that makes it worse. And I was like, oh okay. So yeah. I took a day off work and did that. (Natia)

Responsibility to the Community

The participants in this study also described responsibility to the broader Sāmoan and Pasifika community. However, as with responsibility to the household, participants often began by describing this in terms of fa‘alavelave. As discussed earlier, exact translations are challenging, but it is often defined as a ‘ceremonial occasion’ (Levine, 2003, p. 175) or ‘the giving of money for cultural obligations’ (Signal et al., 2012, p. 109). Lilomaiava-Doktor (2009b, pp. 60–61) defines fa‘alavelave as ‘life cycle events’ for which resources are pooled from immediate and extended family members. Historically, gifts such as food and mats were given as part of fa‘alavelave; however, more recently in diasporic communities in Australia and Aotearoa New Zealand, this has translated into giving cash (Enari, 2020; Va’a, 2001). This shift from giving food to giving cash was described in different ways by the participants. For many second and third generation diaspora, fa‘alavelave was often spoken of with exasperation (George & Rodriguez, 2009):

If you’re struggling financially, fa‘alavelave is not a word you want to hear at all. (Loto)

The tension between meeting individual needs versus community needs was apparent when participants discussed financial obligations linked to fa‘alavelave. In the stories shared by the participants, they often described a conflict or tension between what they felt was in the best financial interest of their family and what their parents or other members of their household felt was appropriate. This mismatch was frequently raised as a source of frustration by the participants, who felt that cultural values and duties were often placed above the more pressing economic needs of the family. What was described as the best way to approach fa‘alavelave differed between participants, although typically second or third generation participants promoted the use of a savings account or similar to help plan for these expenses. However, many participants described situations where family members ended up in significant personal debt, such as taking out payday loans with high interest rates, to meet financial obligations. This had an impact on other members of the household, who were then called upon to help repay the loans.

Natia, for instance, described how her father had a series of loans, including three payday loans with interest rates of around 48%, which were taken out to contribute to fa‘alavelave. Even though the debt was technically her father's, Natia felt that it was also her responsibility to pay off the loans, and to ensure her family was financially secure. This demonstrates the impact of culture on the interactions and interdependence that choices made by one family member have on another. It also highlights that, at times, collective responsibility can have negative implications for individual wellbeing (Fainga’a-Manu Sione et al., 2023).

In addition to fa‘alavelave, participants also described regularly sending funds back to the Islands as remittances, a phenomenon that has been described in detail elsewhere (e.g., Connell & Brown, 2004; McGavin, 2014). Indeed, there is evidence that remittances strengthen cultural identity among Pasifika populations (McGavin, 2014). While this phenomenon of sending money ‘home’ is common among migrant groups (Baak, 2015), it is prominent among Sāmoan and other Pasifika diaspora in Australia (Karunarathne & Gibson, 2014):

It's just what you do, you help where you can, there's no, ‘you owe me this much’ after, you just kind of do it… It's been challenging at times, especially when you’re sending money to people that I’ve never met. But they’re family… they don’t have a lot of the privileges we have here to be able to provide for family, so it's kind of a responsibility we have to be able to look after them as well. (Teulia)

In addition to informal roles that formed part of cultural expectations, participants also discussed the impact of formal cultural roles in relation to responsibility to the community. Chief titles, or matai, were provided as examples where their holders had certain responsibilities towards villages or communities in Sāmoa, regardless of where they and their immediate family resided. For example, Emere was born in Aotearoa New Zealand, but her father was a high chief in his village in Sāmoa. Even though the family lived in Aotearoa New Zealand and, later, Australia, he spent extended periods of time in the Islands:

Throughout our childhood, I would say, we always sort of wondered, well we always thought that [his chief title] had taken a priority over us for most of our lives. So he was more or less, like if he wasn’t here, he was back in the Islands, doing what needs to be done, and then here again for a bit, and then back to the Islands, so very in and out. (Emere)

Responsibility to the Future Self

In addition to responsibility to the household, and responsibility to their family and community, the participants discussed − often explicitly − how they had a responsibility to achieve a better life for themselves. Most participants in this study were second or third generation migrants and described their parents moving from Sāmoa in search of a better life, more for their current and/or future children than themselves. Iosefa, for instance, grew up in Aotearoa New Zealand and, later, in Australia to Sāmoan-born parents. He said that this was a common story among the Sāmoan diaspora, as Sāmoans migrated to provide better opportunities for their children:

The natural migration path was always to get to [Aotearoa] New Zealand, so they can work, and then bring up their kids in a western country where their kids can get better opportunities. (Iosefa)

The path to a better life was thus often seen in the form of earning a higher income, generally obtainable through higher education and/or non-blue-collar jobs. The life trajectories of their parents and/or other family members had a direct influence on the choices that the participants made about their education and employment. Low-skilled work such as factory work was viewed as failure:

My family would always bring up the picture of factory jobs in order to motivate me to keep on trying my best in the classroom, so that I could go to university. Because they saw factory jobs as… what did they say? They’d always say things like, ‘Do you want to work in a factory job? Because that's what you’re going to get if you don’t work hard [in] school.’ (Loto)