(PDF) Cultivating Community: A Discursive Study of Environmental Water Policy in Farming Communities in the Murray-Darling Basin

Cultivating Community: A Discursive Study of Environmental Water Policy in Farming Communities in the Murray-Darling Basin. by Amanda Shankland MPPA, BA A thesis submitted to the Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Affairs in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Political Science Carleton University Ottawa, Ontario © 2023 Abstract This dissertation examines the politicized discourses of water management in New South Wales (NSW), Australia. The case of the Murray-Darling Basin (MDB) offers insight into how dominant discourses can serve to silence meaningful perspectives and alternative solutions to a complex and weighty environmental crisis. The case also shows how marginalized actors push back, resisting both from inside and outside dominant discursive frames and assumptions. A discursive construction of nature that effectively excludes people from its ambit, coupled with a long history of top-down, expert-driven water management policy in the MDB, has had devastating effects on farming communities attempting to deal with the twin impacts of drought and associated policy reforms. The research shows how key elements of three environmental problem-solving discourses identified by John Dryzek, namely administrative rationalism, economic rationalism, and democratic pragmatism, all helped shape the environmental policy landscape in the MDB. This dissertation then examines the effects of a discourse I term ‘green environmentalism’ on farming communities. Finally, I construct an alternative discourse that helps to explain how farmers understand the challenges their communities are facing. This discourse of resistance—community-centrism—seeks to put human social relationships at the heart of environmental decision-making. Community-centrism provides a much-needed positive reconceptualization of environmental problem-solving in the MDB, surfacing economic, environmental, and social opportunities in ways missed by the four dominant discourses. The research demonstrates how critical reflection on policy discourses helps us envisage an alternative future that can provide for the needs of the economy, society, and the environment. 1 Table of Contents Table of Contents....................................................................................................... 2 Introduction............................................................................................................... 6 Chapter Summaries .............................................................................................................................. 15 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................ 18 Chapter 1- The Murray-Darling Basin ..................................................................... 20 1.1 Farming in the Murray-Darling Basin ............................................................................ 20 1.2 Water Management in the MDB ...................................................................................... 32 Chapter 2: Theoretical Approach and Methods......................................................... 39 2.1 Conceptualizing Discourse and Resistance...................................................................... 40 2.2 Public Philosophies, Problem Definitions and Policy Solutions .................................... 47 2.3 Operationalizing a Focus on Problem Definition............................................................ 50 2.4 Water Governance............................................................................................................. 56 2.5 A Theoretical Introduction to Five Environmental Discourses..................................... 71 Administrative Rationalism.................................................................................................................. 72 Economic Rationalism ......................................................................................................................... 75 Democratic Pragmatism ....................................................................................................................... 78 Green Environmentalism...................................................................................................................... 82 Community-Centrism........................................................................................................................... 85 2.6 Research Design ................................................................................................................. 90 A Discursive Case Study...................................................................................................................... 91 Document Analysis .............................................................................................................................. 92 Semi-structured Interviews................................................................................................................... 93 Other Data Collection........................................................................................................................... 97 Data Analysis ....................................................................................................................................... 98 2.7 Reflections......................................................................................................................... 100 Chapter 3- Administrative Rationalism, Economic Rationalism and Democratic Pragmatism ........................................................................................................... 105 3.1 Making sense of MDB management through the discourse of Administrative Rationalism............................................................................................................................. 107 3.2 Economic rationalism and the drive toward free-market reform............................... 122 Entitlement ......................................................................................................................................... 125 ‘High Value’....................................................................................................................................... 131 Productivity ........................................................................................................................................ 140 Efficiency ........................................................................................................................................... 144 Stranded Assets .................................................................................................................................. 151 Section Conclusion............................................................................................................................. 155 3.3 Democratic Pragmatism.................................................................................................. 157 The Consultative Process ................................................................................................................... 159 Democratic Pragmatism in Action ..................................................................................................... 163 2 Physical Barriers................................................................................................................................. 164 Knowledge-based Barriers ................................................................................................................. 166 Social Barriers .................................................................................................................................... 171 Time Barriers...................................................................................................................................... 174 Chapter 4- Green Environmentalism ...................................................................... 182 4.1 Green Environmentalism in the MDB ........................................................................... 184 4.2 The Role of Ramsar in Establishing the Basin Plan ..................................................... 193 4.3 Constructing ‘Farmers’ in Green Environmental Discourse ...................................... 197 4.4 Farmers Challenging the Discourse ............................................................................... 201 Challenging Assumptions about Natural Systems ............................................................................. 201 The “Just Add Water” Solution.......................................................................................................... 207 Blackwater Events.............................................................................................................................. 215 Challenging Perceptions of Rice Farmers.......................................................................................... 218 Cracks in the Discourse...................................................................................................................... 224 Chapter 5- Community-Centrism............................................................................ 230 5.1 The Philosophy of Community-Centrism...................................................................... 232 The Ontology of Community-Centrism ............................................................................................. 232 The Epistemology of Community-Centrism ...................................................................................... 239 5.2 An Alternative Problem Definition ................................................................................ 244 Community-Centrism and Administrative Rationalism..................................................................... 245 Community-centrism and Economic Rationalism ............................................................................. 250 Community-centrism and Green Environmentalism.......................................................................... 259 5.3 Policy Solutions ................................................................................................................ 265 Chapter 6: Recommendations and Conclusions ...................................................... 276 References ............................................................................................................. 298 List of abbreviations/acronyms ABC Australian Broadcasting Corporation AC Framework Advocacy Coalition Framework ACF Australian Conservation Foundation ACT Australian Capital Territory ADR Alternative Dispute Resolution AR Administrative Rationalism CC Community-Centrism CMA Catchment Management Authority CMB Catchment Management Board 3 COAG Council of Australian Governments CSIRO Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation DLWC NSW Department of Land and Water Conservation DP Democratic Pragmatism DSNR NSW Department of Sustainability & Natural Resources (formerly DLWC) ESD Ecologically Sustainable Development EPA Environment Protection Authority ER Economic Rationalism GE Green Environmentalism ICM Integrated Catchment Management MDB Murray-Darling Basin MDBA Murray-Darling Basin Authority MDBC Murray-Darling Basin Commission NAP National Action Plan for salinity and water quality NHT Natural Heritage Trust NRM Natural Resource Management NSW New South Wales NWI National Water Initiative RAMSAR Convention on Wetlands of International Importance Especially as Waterfowl Habitat SDL Sustainable Diversion Limit List of Figures Figure 1- Murray-Darling Basin Map Figure 2- Major Wetlands and Dams in the MDB Figure 3- Australian Government: Bureau of Meteorology: Rainfall amounts in the MDB. List of Tables Table 1- Timeline of Events and Policy Initiatives Table 2- Categories of Ideas and Elements of Discourse 4 Table 3- Discourses, Problem Definitions, Policy Solutions, and Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devises, as Identified Through Literature Review (Mehta, Dryzek, Naess, Bookchin, Ostrom and others) Table 4- Farmer Interviewees Information Table 5- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions in the MDB. Administrative Rationalism Table 6- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Economic Rationalism Table 7- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Democratic Pragmatism Table 8- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Green Environmentalism Table 9- Government vs. Farmer Problem Definitions and Policy Solutions Table 10- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Community-Centrism List of Appendices Appendix 1- Interview Questions 5 Introduction Farmers have a wealth of local knowledge when it comes to water management on their farms and can make significant contributions in terms of solutions. But how is that knowledge considered by policy experts, and to what effect? The case of the MurrayDarling Basin (MDB) in Australia reveals how farmers are included in policymaking and implementation processes meant to respond to challenging environmental circumstances. This case study explores the impact of farmer knowledge and perspectives on water management discourse in the MDB. I approach this inquiry by situating the knowledge and perspectives of farmers within the broader policy discourse of water management in the Basin. This dissertation addresses how environmental discourses shape the parameters of acceptable policy choices in the MDB and subsequent outcomes. This question is broken down into a series of sub-questions: What are the defining discourses of water management in the MDB, and how have some discourses gained authority over others? What forms of knowledge do these discourses legitimize? How have these discourses defined public policy historically and today? What difference have these discourses made to managing land and water in the MDB? What alternative perspectives, knowledges, and policy options are excluded, and what would be the policy implications of these alternative perspectives? In response to these questions, this research identifies five environmental discourses in the farming and policy communities in the MDB: administrative rationalism, economic rationalism, democratic pragmatism, green environmentalism, and communitycentrism. It examines the origins of, and assumptions embedded within these discourses. Further, it looks at how farmers influence these discourses and how the discourses impact 6 farmers. The first three discourses have previously been discussed by Australian academic and environmental writer John Dryzek (2013). The fourth, green environmentalism, was a discourse I identified and labelled through a detailed environmental literature review. Green environmentalism is a dominant alternative discourse of environmental problemsolving in Australia. This often biocentric discourse is needed to understand environmental management decisions in the MDB. I argue that the first four discourses played key roles in shaping the parameters of acceptable policy choices in the MDB from the 1950s to 2017, the period covered in this study. The final discourse, community-centrism, is one of resistance that has had a less direct impact on policy to date but has much to offer in terms of defining an alternative future for water management in the MDB. This discourse was constructed through my observations of farmers' environmental management experiences in the MDB, what they shared with me in interviews and a careful review of alternative environmental discourses. In the language of the Wiradjuri people, Indigenous to central New South Wales (NSW), 'Murrumbidgee' means 'big boss.' The Murrumbidgee River in the MDB is so named because it is understood that the river dictates the way of life for those who live along it and depend on it. Here, people must learn to follow the uneasy ebb and flow of ever-changing and largely unpredictable weather systems. Living along the Murrumbidgee, Darling, and Murray rivers of southwest Australia sustainably depends on how well one can predict the weather and the ensuing conditions of the river but also on anticipating that some things are unpredictable. Life depends, to some degree, on the dictates of the river. This condition means that adaptation is an essential characteristic of 7 survival. For the farmers, like for the Wiradjuri people, this is the reality that dictates the possibility of a future. Currently, nearly eighty percent of the world's population is threatened by an insecure water supply, and the vast majority of freshwater is dramatically impacted by human activity (Swirepik et al., 2015). A political, social, and environmental imperative exists to manage water allocations sustainably. Australia, the driest inhabited continent, subject to extreme temporal and spatial variation in rainfall, faces significant challenges to its freshwater systems (Swirepik et al., 2015). Maintaining the MDB, Australia's most extensive freshwater system, is critical. The MDB is more than a million square kilometres in area and crosses four states and one territory. It also includes some 77,000 kilometres of rivers, creeks, and 30,000 wetlands. Despite its immense size, the river system has a modest average inflow (Swirepik et al., 2015). The Basin is essential to Australian agricultural interests and the rural communities supported by agriculture since colonization. From 2011-2012, the gross agricultural production in the MDB was A$19 billion, or around 40% of the total Australian value of agricultural commodities (Swirepik et al., 2015). The catchment also provides water to some two million people (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001). Despite its significance to Australia and measures to conserve water, the MDB is drying up, and so are the farm businesses that depend on the Basin. Even though there have been significant measures to conserve water, nearly half of the farmers in some parts of the MDB have sold their water allocations back to the government and abandoned their cultivation of irrigation-dependent crops like table grapes, rice, and wheat. 8 Farmers are integral to water conservation efforts in the Basin, contributing a unique perspective rooted in their long history of adaptation efforts. However, a review of this case suggests that they have had difficulty influencing discussions around water management. Some researchers criticize farmers in the MDB, arguing that local input is interfering in the work of the government, and the efficiency of the markets. They claim that farmers do not grasp the extent and complexity of the problem beyond their own farms (Grafton & Horne, 2014). Grafton and Horne (2014) have reasoned that while local expertise can contribute to policies like environmental recovery strategies, local input can undermine the emergence of strong water markets: “independent development of water resources within each state in the southern MDB led to the over-extraction problem that currently exists” (Grafton & Horne, 2014, 69). For some scholars and government officials, farmer input simply represents interference in the effectiveness of markets and government regulations. By treating farmers primarily as a cause of water scarcity, governments often fail to recognize the potential contributions of farmers to addressing the crisis. Over their long history, negotiations concerning the management of the MDB have frequently been topdown and hierarchal and have not produced the results desired by any of the actors involved. In some instances, initiatives also created distrust within communities and contributed to the very crisis that policy actors were trying to mitigate (Harley et al., 2014). For example, farmers were deeply concerned that their water entitlements would be forcibly stripped from them after plans were introduced in the Water Act of 2007 to retrieve millions of litres of water from the system for environmental purposes. Some analysts argue that the causes of water mismanagement were found in federal interventions, while 9 others say that mismanagement has happened primarily at the state level (Doyle & Kellow, 1995). Either way, a hurried water reform process meant to divert water from production for environmental purposes occurred with limited input from farmers (Doyle & Kellow, 1995), and the environmental outcomes remain questionable (Lee et al., 2009). One clear outcome is that this process was devastating for the farmers and communities implicated in these reforms, as the chapters of this dissertation document. As noted above, the central question addressed through this research is: how do environmental discourses shape the parameters of acceptable policy choices in the MDB, and to what effect? This research identifies the discourses around water management and explores why some discourses have gained authority over others. The study critically examines how these discourses defined problems (Harley et al., 2014), the forms of knowledge these discourses legitimize, how these discourses have shaped public policy, the difference these discourses have made to how land and water are managed in the MDB, and how alternative perspectives and policy options have been excluded (Mehta, 2013). Along the way, this dissertation also raises some of the policy proposals of those excluded perspectives in the hopes that they may shape future policy deliberation in the MDB. I would like to note that the Indigenous perspective is critically important in understanding river management and providing an alternative source of knowledge that has often been ignored. Still, this research focuses on the role of farm communities. Further research is needed to examine the contributions of Indigenous knowledge in river management in the MDB. Unfortunately, that investigation lay beyond the scope of my current research. John Dryzek identifies three dominant discourses that western societies have tended to work within when responding to environmental problems. He calls these the "discourses 10 of environmental problem solving" (2013, p. 73): administrative rationalism, economic rationalism, and democratic pragmatism. Each of these discourses appears to be highly relevant in the case of the MDB. Elements of each have played roles in defining policy choices in the Basin in recent decades. The history of water management within the MDB can be characterized mainly by administrative rationalism, as policy design and implementation have largely been top-down, emphasizing the expertise of scientists and bureaucratic management. Administrative rationalism is associated with professional resource management bureaucracies, central agencies, regulatory policy instruments, expert advisory commissions, and rationalist policy analysis techniques (Dryzek, 2013, pp. 75–98). Administrative rationalism emphasizes the role of the expert while downplaying the role of citizen participation in building capacity for problem-solving. It has the goal of rapid modernization under the guidance of those deemed 'expert authorities' by the state, and it frequently assumes that nature is subordinate to human problem-solving. One fundamental problem with administrative rationalism is that it presents a false image of specific knowledge and benign power (Torgerson & Paehlke, 2005). Further, powerful interests often interfere with decision-making. In each case—and each of these cases did arise in the MDB—resultant decisions are guided by the interests or policy objectives of specific actors at the expense of satisfying the interests and objectives of others. Like administrative rationalism, economic rationalism also led to a myopic view of specific problems in the Basin. In contrast to the centralizing tendencies of administrative rationalism, economic rationalism is grounded in the notion that decision-making should happen at the individual level (Dryzek, 2013). Central to this discourse is the idea that individualism promotes competition, allocates resources more efficiently, and thus 11 contributes to positive economic growth (Dryzek, 2013, pp. 122-134). Economic rationalism assumes that free markets are the best method of decentralizing environmental planning and is often touted as the most reliable mechanism for dividing common pool resources. In the MDB, adopting economic rationalism led to a strong emphasis on economic instruments to resolve water over-allocation problems, meaning that other solutions were often overlooked. Economic rationalists argue that free markets and the protection of individual property rights are best for preventing the disasters associated with state-centric environmental planning. A consequence of this approach in the MDB, however, is that private rights regimes necessitated increased government intervention to address negative externalities. Proponents argue that economic rationalism avoids the tragedy of the commons because property owners are more likely to care for private than public (or common) property (e.g., Hardin, 1968). However, managing collective resources under private rights regimes is sometimes quite challenging, mainly because the level of management intervention elevates the need for government involvement (Robertson, 2007). As will be argued, this situation has often occurred in the MDB. Economic rationalism also undervalues the multifunctionality1 of ecosystems by focusing only on economic outcomes in the short term (Hollander, 2007). Dryzek's third major environmental problem-solving discourse, democratic pragmatism, emphasizes the practical application of ideas through democratic processes, such as environmental consultations (2013). Democratic pragmatism assumes that 1 In agriculture, multifunctionality refers to the numerous benefits that agricultural may provide. Multifunctionality generally refers to the non-trade benefits of agriculture (OECD, 2001). 12 participants are informed and that special interests will not dominate. However, as we will see, in practice, the discourse of democratic pragmatism can reinforce the status quo and ignore the wider-scale social processes in which specific environmental issues are embedded (Dryzek, 2013). In the case of the MDB, while there was a commitment to forms of consultation on the part of the government, farmers felt excluded from these processes for many reasons. For instance, they often thought that the government only initiated consultations after a decision had been made, that government representatives were unwilling to meet with farmers in the spaces they were accustomed to, and that information was often inaccessible or incomprehensible. This research shows that attempts to democratize processes for managing the MDB often failed and therefore had limited problem-solving potential. I argue that efforts toward democratic pragmatism were constrained by the overarching discourse of administrative rationalism and its impact on decision-making. Each of the three discourses presents a distinct story of environmental water management. Together, they help examine and unpack what happened in the MDB. First, a legacy of administrative rationalism has shaped policy developments in the region and continues to do so. The increased influence of economic rationalism has complicated that story since the 1980s. Economic rationalism was manifest to the extent that it fits within the overall structure of administrative rationalism. Democratic pragmatism also informed problem-solving in the MDB but largely to support the status quo that was already well entrenched through the discourses of administrative rationalism and economic rationalism. This dissertation argues that a fourth discourse characterized by biocentric views, which I term 'green environmentalism,' also profoundly impacted the politics of water 13 management in the MDB. This discourse became pronounced during the extended drought of the early 2000s when efforts to protect environmental water for its own sake grew in prominence. This period represents a departure from the other three discourses as the green environmental movement gained influence on Basin politics. This fourth discourse is needed to explain the policy turn that occurred during the period. Green environmentalism elucidates how 'environmental water' could be separated from 'productive water,' at least theoretically. Despite attempts to rectify historical wrongs by 'protecting' nature, green environmentalism is grounded in problematic assumptions that came to have harmful effects. As Kay and Simmons (2002) argue, people are a part of nature, and evidence suggests that a natural state of (pre-human) nature, as conceived by romantic assumptions embedded in green environmentalism, is impossible to identify historically, let alone restore through contemporary environmental management strategies. As will be discussed in detail in Chapter four, identifying a 'perfect state of nature' is a subjective exercise, and aesthetic or romantic conceptions of nature do not necessarily reflect an ideal situation, in a utilitarian sense, for animals or people. These four discourses collectively help us understand what occurred in the MDB, but none of them effectively achieved their intended solutions. Instead, we saw a worsening of the crisis. Based on this research, I argue that environmental resource management should be centred on the role that human societies—productive and unproductive—have in positively impacting their environments. This type of management can be achieved through knowledge of locally specific contexts and acting according to principles that meet the needs of local communities (Ostrom, 2012). Focusing on farmers and the communities built up around them gives a fuller characterization of a more integrated, holistic, 14 community-centred way of seeing human/environment relationships. To demonstrate the potential for bottom-up problem-solving in the MDB, I piece together an emerging alternative discourse, which I term 'community-centrism.' By foregrounding the voices of farmers, I argue that community-centrism can help policymakers understand environmental concerns in a way that is more beneficial to human societies, nature, and the long-term economic stability of communities. Community-centrism is a response to the failings of the other four environmental discourses. In Chapters three and four, I explore how these other discourses limited policy choices in response to the problems in the Basin. While some farmers have learned to work within established discourses to advance their interests, these discourses still limit the bounds of acceptable discussion. My central argument in chapter five is that an alternative discourse that emerges through my interviews with farmers offers a path forward focused on social values. I propose a discourse of community-centrism, building on the insights of Murray Bookchin, Elinor Ostrom, and others—but grounded in the voices of the farmers I interviewed in this case—that focuses on the critical role of community-based cooperation and engagement. This alternative discourse—focused on social outcomes—has the potential to produce complementary environmental and economic outcomes. Chapter Summaries In Chapter one, I provide a demographic and historical overview of water management in farming communities in the MDB. The chapter discusses developments in the Basin since colonization and how those changes impacted modern views toward water management. I describe the climate and related disasters that culminated in the crisis of the Millennium 15 Drought. Further, I explain the role of the Ramsar Convention in justifying certain political decisions in the Basin in the context of an overarching administratively rational approach. The chapter also explores the challenges of creating a unified and coordinated response to water management problems. In addition, an overview of Australia's political landscape and the Green Party's role in defining environmental problems since the 1990s gives important context to this discussion. In the second chapter, I present my theoretical framework and methodology. I employ a constructivist approach to unpack the central role of ideas in discourse. While there are numerous ways to examine a discourse, this work focuses on ideas using the framework developed by Mehta (2011). Mehta identifies three levels of ideas—public philosophies, problem definitions, and policy choices—that interact to inform policy. I focus primarily on problem definitions and policy choices to explore how they inform each other in the context of specific discourses. Chapter two lays out the broad contours of the five main discourses in my case study using Mehta's classification of ideas. Chapter two also explains the research methodology based on in-depth interviews with farmers and government officials in the MDB, along with official submissions, research reports, and newspaper archives. These documents were used to corroborate, extend, or raise questions based on evidence gathered from interviews. I argue that the MDB is an important case study in environmental management because of its long history of drought and its extensive irrigation systems. As we move into an increasingly climateimpacted future, the Australian experience provides a window into possible futures for many other regions worldwide. As a developed nation with a strong democracy, Australia's experiences may serve to identify new and more sustainable approaches. This case study 16 provides important insights for developing more effective models for environmental governance in the context of a changing climate. Chapter three provides an overview of the impact of the three dominant discourses in the MDB: administrative rationalism, economic rationalism and democratic pragmatism. During the period of centralized and rapid modernization, particularly during the 1950s and 1960s, minimal regard was shown for the social, historical, and geographical context in which large environmental projects were developed. This was certainly the case in the MDB, as governments dramatically altered the landscape through major irrigation projects led by the state. In this chapter, I argue that administrative rationalism has heavily impacted problem definitions and policy decisions in the Basin and continues to do so. Next, I examine the role of economic rationalism, which was predominant from the 1980s onwards. Governments developed market-based instruments, suggesting a more open, freemarket approach to deciding where water would go. These changes sought to limit the role of government in development and trade. However, the adoption of neoliberal policy tools fueled a drive toward more, rather than less, government intervention. Further, I contend that many policies of economic rationalism had clear negative impacts on the community and the environment. Finally, I examine the role of democratic pragmatism in the MDB. The evidence shows that, in practice, these democratizing processes failed to incorporate local knowledge. As a result, government interactions often reinforced centralized decision-making and increased divisive tensions. Individualism, present in both farming communities and government organizations, defined the shape (and limits) of the democratic pragmatist discourse in the MDB. Consequently, the discourse of democratic 17 pragmatism is limited by the assumptions embedded within the other two central discourses discussed in this chapter. In chapter four, I examine the productive effects of green environmentalism. The green movement has made significant contributions to environmentalism in Australia. However, the central problem with green environmentalism is a tendency to view human societies as inherently in competition with non-human species and spaces. Government policies that separate natural environments from human environments have negatively impacted the capacity of farmers to manage their environments and undermined the ability of governments to develop policies that benefit the larger ecosystems they seek to protect. Chapter five presents an alternative approach to water management in the Basin. Throughout this chapter, I explain how focusing on community outcomes could result in various positive environmental and economic outcomes. Sustainable water management in the Basin will depend on the government's ability to mobilize one of its most important resources: farmers. I argue that a community-centrist approach to managing water resources could lead to a greater capacity of farmers to self-manage water resources and make valuable contributions to environmental planning. Conclusion The MDB offers an example of how specific environmental problem-solving discourses inform the development of policies in ways that have consequences for both people and nature. Specifically, this case shows how dominant discourses can silence those who might offer meaningful perspectives and alternative solutions to complex and weighty 18 environmental crises, such as drought. This conclusion has important implications as we consider policy responses to future weather events resulting from a changing climate. The analysis in the following chapters gradually reveals how policy was produced in relation to four dominant discourses and how these discourses influence policy choices. Through a critical reflection of these discourses, we can begin to envisage an alternative future that can provide for the needs of the economy, society, and the environment. This work presents such an alternative view in the final chapter. I show how communitycentrism offers a new way to see the synergies among the interests of nature, the economy, and human communities in the MDB. 19 Chapter 1- The Murray-Darling Basin A study of this depth warrants a demographic and historical overview of the long-term developments in water management in the Basin since colonization. This overview is essential since understanding the Basin's history and the development of farm communities is critical to explaining how water management evolved to where it is today. Since colonization, the radical transformation of the Australian landscape has made modern agriculture possible in the Basin, but it has also caused irreparable environmental damage. The current situation in the Basin and the proposed environmental solutions must be understood within this historical context. 1.1 Farming in the Murray-Darling Basin The MDB encompasses a wide geographical area of some one million square kilometres and includes New South Wales, South Australia, Queensland, Victoria and the Australian Capital Territory (ACT). The river system is vital for economic, environmental and community-based interests. The area is Australia's most important catchment as it is home to some 2.6 million people and produces $24 billion worth of agricultural products every year (Australian Government Department of Agriculture, Water, and the Environment, 2020). It also provides wildlife habitats and is culturally significant to the many Indigenous groups (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2020a). The MDB is called a basin because water is collected by the natural landscape before it eventually flows into the two major rivers, the Murray and the Darling. The Basin is divided into two parts, the northern and southern basins. Major towns, cities and rivers 20 are shown on the map in Figure 1. Water in the northern Basin runs into the Darling River, and water in the southern Basin runs into the Murray River. To the south and east of the Basin are the mountains of the Great Dividing Range. Most rivers that flow into the Basin start as fast-flowing streams in these mountains. The Basin is situated on flat plains not far above sea level, and the rivers in these areas tend to flow slowly (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2020a). Figure 1: Murray-Darling Basin Map. ABC News, 2019. 21 Several other major rivers in the Basin include the Murrumbidgee, Goulburn, Lachlan, Macquarie, and Ovens. The rivers are all meandering, meaning they wind through the landscape. These rivers run slowly, and water seeps into the land along the river, creating a fertile plain ideal for agricultural production. A large volume of water evaporates, particularly in the drier regions (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2020a). Irrigated agriculture represents the bulk of MDB farming and contributes significantly to the regional and Australian economies. In 2014–15, the Basin accounted for 66 percent of Australia's total irrigated land area and comprised 40 percent of the country's irrigated agricultural businesses. These businesses include various farm enterprises, including vegetable crops, tree and vine crops, pastures for grazing, hay, rice, cotton, cereals and oilseed crops (Department of Agriculture, Water and the Environment, 2020a). Historically, dairy farming comprised a large portion of farming in the Basin but is now in steep decline. Average farm cash income for dairy farmers in the Basin peaked in 2013-14 and began declining because of lower milk prices and higher input costs (Department of Agriculture, Water and the Environment, 2020a). In contrast, the incomes of horticulture farms have been steadily rising. Rice farms comprise the majority of respondents in this study. Most of Australia's rice production occurs in the NSW Murray and Murrumbidgee regions in the southern Murray–Darling Basin. These areas have clay-based soils and relatively flat land suitable for rice growing. They also have well-developed irrigation infrastructure and rice storage and milling facilities (SunRice, 2022). Australia's annual rice production and the number of farms growing rice depend on the volume of irrigation water available to rice growers. The total area planted with rice increased gradually from the late 1980s to the early 2000s 22 before declining significantly in 2002-03 because of drought and reduced availability of irrigation water (Ashton & Van Dijk, 2016). A return to favourable seasonal conditions in 2010-11 led to higher water allocations in 2011-12 and an increase in plantings through 2012-13. From 2013-14 to 2015-16, declining water availability resulted in falls in the total area planted with rice (Ashton & Van Dijk, 2016). Rice farming has been lucrative and provided a significant portion of farm income in most cases. One of the ways rice growers manage changes in their farm operations is by adjusting the mix of agricultural enterprises each year. Such changes are common on farms with annual crops such as rice or cotton. These farms' relatively large cropping areas (2000 plus acres) give rice growers scope to grow a mix of crops depending on markets and water availability (Ashton & Van Dijk, 2016). As will be discussed in detail, however, since the Millennium Drought, rice farmers have seen a steady decline in farm income due to reduced water availability. Another primary industry in the region is cotton. Average farm cash income for cotton growers has been growing despite dry conditions because input costs like fuel and fertilizers have fallen. These cotton farms are mainly located in the Northern Basin and were not included in this study. Cotton farming, however, has become contentious. Accusations have been made that these bigger cotton farms have been able to harness a disproportionately large volume of water from the Basin for a crop that is mainly for export, that cotton does not support any secondary industries in the country, and that it does not provide food for the nation (Davies, 2019). The tight-knit communities of the MDB are supported by the 1900 farms (as of 2019) that provide the bulk of the work in the towns (NSW Farmers Association, 2019). The farms I visited were almost all intergenerational but are now run by just one or two 23 families, with most of the work being done by just one or two farmers who hire contractors as necessary. Despite the vast distances between farms, the farmers are neighbours to one another and work together to support each other's success. The region's unique geographical and demographic makeup came about through more than a hundred years of settlers modifying the land to meet the expectations of European-style agriculture. The environmental costs of such a huge upending of the land are evident in the problems we witness in the Basin today. As we will see, the legacy of colonial settlement is inseparable from the problems in today's agrarian landscape. When European explorers first came across the area, which is now called the MDB, they looked out across a dry desert landscape and remarked that farming would never be possible (Connell, 2005). When Australia became a federation in 1901, there was a widespread belief that the economic advancement of the colony would depend on its ability to harness its agricultural potential. Controlling the water of the Murrumbidgee and Murray rivers for agriculture offered an opportunity to transform these dry plains into productive agricultural lands (Connell, 2005). Now, the MDB is Australia's largest food bowl. This area also boasts one of the world's most elaborate and technologically advanced irrigation systems. To understand the challenges facing the MDB, we must first review the history of water management in the Basin. Australia's treatment of the natural landscape is interwoven with its history as a colony and its treatment of Aboriginal peoples. In the early days, the colonialists' attitudes toward the environment could be characterized as contemptuous. The white settlers eradicated native species, felled trees to increase pasture, and stripped the earth of its natural coverings at an astounding pace (Doyle & Kellow, 24 1995, pp. 2-3). Aboriginal land practices, if even seen and recognized as such, were viewed as a lower form of cultivation (Pascoe, 2018). Further, because Australia was a convict settlement run by a powerful colonial empire, the state and not individual settlers set the tone of early development. The form of governance that emerged was known as 'colonial socialism' as government was central to the growth of capital. Due to the attitudes of early settlers, the first 200 years of settlement resulted in profound changes to the natural environment. More than in other colonial nations, the changes were total and sudden (Doyle & Kellow, 1995, p. 3). The consequences of early settlers on the landscape and the rivers of the MurrayDarling Basin have proven difficult to manage. Methods of pastoralism and dryland cropping were at the center of the settlers' adaptation to Australia's dry climate. This adaptation brought significant technical and organizational innovation: new forms of land tenure, paddocking, disease control, and stock breeding suitable to the environment (Connell, 2004, p. 82). During the latter half of the nineteenth-century new farming methods also brought technology like the wheat stripper, mechanical harvesters, the stumpjump plough, and varieties of drought and disease-resistant wheat. All these new adaptations were considered successful in adjusting farming to the climate and dry landscape of southern Australia, and technological 'progress' under the direction and support of the government were the norm. Eventually, it became clear that these techniques had brought to the surface large volumes of salt previously inactive in the Basin's subsoils. Still, the government ignored these environmental problems in favour of productive largescale agricultural development programs (Connell, 2004). This and other forms of degradation severely damaged the soil quality for future generations. More recently, it has 25 also become apparent that these techniques have severely depleted the carbon in the soil, impacting productivity in the longer term and contributing to an increasingly hostile growing environment (Connell, 2004, p. 83; Pascoe, 2018). This kind of modernization of agriculture from the beginning of Australia's colonial history has defined the character of farming in Australia. The MDB is a closed system of groundwater basins, and the only opening is at the mouth of the Murray. Since the MDB is a restricted hydrological system, the impacts of human activity can be evidenced quickly. Recharge rates of the groundwater system had been stable for a long time before the arrival of settlers. Even though it was a closed system, recharge rates allowed the system to develop complex ecosystems around it. The early settlers, unfamiliar with such a unique and complex underground network of streams, did not know that if the recharge rate increased, the surface of the land and the rivers that drain the land would salinize rapidly (Connell, 2004, pp. 86-87). The extensive clearing of native vegetation and planting crops with shallow roots rapidly increased the recharge from rainwater to groundwater, sometimes as much as ten-fold. Groundwater systems steadily rose because of these changes, which mobilized large amounts of salt that had always been inactive in the top few meters of subsoils. Both irrigation and dryland farming mobilized enormous amounts of salt that had accumulated in subsoils for millions of years (Connell, 2004, p. 87). Despite emerging issues concerning water salinity and soil quality, the first agreement impacting the management of the Murray-Darling Basin was not concerned with the environmental conditions in the Basin per se. The River Murray Waters Agreement of 1915 set out the navigation and irrigation rights of three states: New South Wales, South 26 Australia and Victoria (Doyle & Kellow, 1995, p. 222). This early agreement was only concerned with water quantity and did not include any provisions regarding water quality. The irrigation and navigation planners of the late nineteenth century quickly realized, however, that flow patterns along the Murray and its tributaries were much more varied than any other major river system anywhere in the world (Connell, 2005). In 1915, a Royal Commission report noted a sevenfold difference between the highest and lowest flows of the Murrumbidgee and a tenfold difference in the Darling. The other major issue was that most of the flow came down the Murray in the winter or spring months, but plants needed to be watered in summer and autumn (Connell, 2005, p. 85). This problem meant that for European-style agriculture to ever be possible in NSW, a vast and complex network of dams would need to be built. Consequently, a reservoir was constructed at Albury in New South Wales, and a storage at Lake Victoria (Doyle & Kellow, 1995, p. 222). Two major dams were also built, the Hume (completed in 1936) and the Burrinjuck (completed in 1956), as well as a complex system of weirs, locks, and canals on the Murray and the Murrumbidgee. Massive infrastructure projects were built from the 1920s through the 1960s. Even though the government finally acknowledged salinity problems in the 1960s, no actions were taken to mitigate the impacts of increased salinization. The reversal of the seasonal flow of all the major rivers was made possible by these government-led projects meant to support large-scale European-style agriculture. A vast network of irrigation channels was built to supply a wide range of irrigation enterprises. States began to manage the water released from the storage dams into the Murray and Murrumbidgee rivers, providing water to the irrigation areas depending on available water. To this day, when water is released 27 from the dams, it flows down the river to Berembed and Gogeldrie weirs (completed in 1910 and 1959, respectively), and from there, it is diverted into supply channels which distribute the water to farms. The transition to an agricultural landscape was led by Murrumbidgee Irrigation Limited, responsible for irrigation in the region and one of Australia's largest private irrigation companies. In 1912 it was established by the government following the commissioning of Burrinjuck Dam as a purpose-built scheme designed to support agriculture and provide employment opportunities. It was state-owned until 1997 and became a privatized, unlisted public company in 1999. It provides water, drainage and environmental services (Murrumbidgee Irrigation, 2020). A massive irrigation scheme, coupled with emerging salinity and sedimentation problems across the Basin, ensured that control by state governments was essential to the system's overall operations. Federal and state governments played a crucial role in the development of agriculture, and despite emerging environmental problems, Australia grew wealthy under the system. This transition could not come without significant environmental consequences; such consequences would make the Basin entirely unrecognizable to anyone who would have been living there at the beginning of the twentieth century. There was a dramatic decrease in native flora and fauna and the extinction of many species. For instance, a study by the University of New South Wales revealed that dams and water diversions led to a seventy percent reduction in bird species from 1983 to 2014 (Smith, Deborah, 2017). 28 Figure 2: Major Wetlands and Dams in the MDB- (Kahan et al., 2020) Despite the environmental consequences, governments continued to pour money into developing irrigation schemes and pushing for further economic modernization of Australia's agricultural sector well into the 1960s. The 1960s saw the birth of hundreds of horticultural and large-area farms around the Murray and Murrumbidgee. In that decade, a range of crops were introduced, including rice, barley, oats, legumes, and grapes.2 Wheat, olives, vegetables, and cereals are also grown in some areas. These new crops were 2 Rice growers, the group that most of my interviewees belong to, would eventually come to use less water than any other country in the world and produce a second cereal crop during the winter months using the moisture that is left in the soil. The largest rice processor in Australia, Sunrice, is in Leeton, NSW. Debortoli, who I had the opportunity to interview, operates a major winery in the region and other major winemaking families also operate in the region. 29 introduced alongside already established dairy and sheep farming operations. In the 1960s, a new town called Coleambally was established, and the decade also saw the growth of towns like Hay, Griffith, Narrandera and Darlington Point. More recently, cotton was introduced to the MDB in 2011. Cotton plantations increased as their relative value to other crops increased over time (Ashton, Dale, 2019). The irrigation areas around the Murrumbidgee and the Murray have become some of the largest gravity-fed irrigation areas in the world and transformed the area into a highly productive food bowl. By 2014-15, for example, the MDB accounted for 66 percent of Australia's total area irrigated and 40 percent of the nation's irrigated agricultural businesses. In 2020, the MDB was home to 2.6 million people and produced $24 billion in agricultural production yearly (Australian Government Department of Agriculture, Water, and the Environment, 2020b). The problems associated with water storage and management related to large infrastructure projects came to a head when the Basin entered a period of drought. As early as 1991, a 1200-kilometre blue-green algae bloom formed in the Darling River. Further, in 1995 the median annual flows through the Murray's mouth were only 21-28% of what they would have been in normal conditions (Wentworth Group, 2017). Water was overallocated, meaning more water was permitted to be taken than was available in the rivers. The Millennium Drought (1996-2009) was the next major shock to the system. Meagre flow rates caused hyper-salinization of the Coorong and Lower Lakes region in South Australia and the closure of the Murray mouth. These environmental problems had flowon effects on communities and the regional economy. One in every five jobs in agriculture across the Basin was lost (Wentworth Group, 2017). Responding to the overallocation of water resources, the federal government's attempts at major water reform took place during 30 a long period wherein minimal water was coming into the system. New extraction limits were based on data gathered during the drought and not before. This was problematic as it was not an accurate measurement of the average amount of water actually in the system. Nor did those extraction limits line up with what users needed from that system for various types of agricultural enterprises. The Millennium Drought precipitated the need to respond to the water extraction problem, but, as explained in chapter three, the drought made it virtually impossible to measure the effects of reform. The drought also meant it was impossible to change on-farm outcomes through reform measures. Table 1 presents an overview of some of the main events and policies introduced since irrigated agriculture began in NSW. Developments up until the 1980s were described in this section. The following section looks at developments from the 1980s and key events and policies leading up to and directly following the Millennium Drought. Table 1- Timeline of Events and Policy Initiatives YEAR EVENT/ POLICY 1891 Goulburn weir completed — the first major water diversion structure built for irrigation. 1895 Start of the seven-year 'Federation drought.' 1914 New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia sign River Murray Waters Agreement 1917 River Murray Commission established to enforce the 1914 agreement 1922 Lock 1 on the River Murray completed (13 more built by 1939) 1936 Hume Dam completed after 17 years of construction. 1939 Yarrawonga weir on the Murray completed. Barrages constructed to prevent seawater from entering the Lower Lakes in SA 1967 Burrendong Dam on the Macquarie River completed. 1968 South Australia introduces a cap on water diversions. 31 1974 Snowy Mountains hydroelectric scheme completed. 1979 Dartmouth Dam in Victoria is completed, becoming the Basin's largest water storage. 1987 Murray–Darling Basin Agreement was first signed, initially as an amendment to the River Murray Waters Agreement of 1914 1992 New Murray–Darling Basin Agreement replaces River Murray Water Agreement 1996 Cap on diversions introduced for NSW, Victoria, and South Australia 1997 Beginning of the longest drought in Australia's recorded history 2000 Murray Mouth closes and requires dredging. 2002 Living Murray discussion paper released 2004 Intergovernmental Agreement on a National Water Initiative 2007 Water Act 2007 introduced 2012 Basin plan becomes law. 1.2 Water Management in the MDB The 1980s and 1990s were a time of great concern for international competitiveness in Australia. It was generally agreed upon in policy circles that Australia needed to become more competitive in international markets. 3 During the time, there was also a push toward rethinking government interventions in production activities. Consistent with this discourse, publicly subsidized irrigation projects and policies designed to favour particular groups of farmers came under public scrutiny (Crase et al., 2012). Like other industries, irrigation-based agriculture became increasingly informed by free-market principles. The drive toward government austerity hastened the free-market approach and the privatization trend. The practice of water trading came about at this time. The stated goal was to create 3 Australia became a member of the WTO in January 1995. 32 market-based instruments for managing water that would limit the role of government (Crase et al., 2012). The idea of water reform through market-based mechanisms was reinforced by the Millennium Drought. While there were some improvements in water conservation after a cap on diversions was implemented in 1996, this cap also presented greater economic hardship for farmers. Difficulties dramatically increased with the onslaught of the Millennium Drought. From 2001 to 2006, during the height of the drought, the number of farmers and farm managers in the MDB fell from 73,000 to 67,000, a decrease of 7.4% (Jiang & Grafton, 2012). At the same time, concerns over the long-term sustainability of the Basin were exacerbated as the drought also threatened wetlands in the Basin. The national and state governments responded by examining their collective policy options. In 2002 the Murray-Darling Basin Ministerial Council (MDBMC) released the Living Murray discussion paper, which was meant to spur community consultations about whether water should be recovered from consumptive uses and put toward environmental purposes (Crase et al., 2005, p. 222). In 2003, the Council of Australian Governments (CoAG) announced that member states of the MDBMC had agreed to assign $500 million over five years to reallocate five hundred GL (500 billion litres) water from farms and put it toward environmental assets. Later, in 2004, state and federal governments agreed to the principle of "sustainable water use" (CoAG, 2004). This principle led to the development of programs specifically meant to secure water for environmental purposes. The most important programs are the Living Murray which was to divert 500 GL of water per year, and the NSW Rivers Environmental Restoration Program, which was to divert 108 GL per year (Swirepik et al., 2015). 33 CoAG created the National Water Initiative (NWI) in 2004. The parties agreed to the initiative based on the imperative to increase the productivity and efficiency of water use, to guarantee service to rural and urban communities, and to return systems to environmentally sustainable levels of extraction." Paragraph 48 states that: "Water access entitlement holders are to bear the risks of any reduction or less reliable water allocation, under their water access entitlements, arising from reductions to the consumptive pool as a result of (i) seasonal or long-term changes in climate; and (ii) periodic natural events such as bushfires and drought (p. 8)." Further, paragraph 20 of the NWI states, "The States and Territories are responsible for implementing this Agreement within their respective jurisdictions " (p. 3)." As we can see from these passages, the agreement placed greater risk on water entitlement holders, confirmed the role of the States and Territories, and gave the Commonwealth increased oversight. The National Water Commission (NWC) was set up to assist in implementing the Agreement. This change reflected the federal government's desire to assert more control over the process, mainly in response to the drought. While the NWI did not take control away from states, per se, it did hold the states accountable to the Commonwealth as an oversight body. The NWI (2004) solidified the commitment of the federal government to implement water reform. The emphasis was on greater efficiency in agriculture and a more comprehensive response to the river system's environmental challenges. Most of the over-allocation at the time lay within the MDB. After the more severe period of drought, which began in 1999, the federal government announced that it was better suited than the states to deal with the challenges faced by the MDB. As a result, the federal government took greater control over water management. The new role of the 34 government was controversial on several levels. Still, most significantly, while the government said that future water infrastructure must meet economic standards, it offered subsidies for irrigation projects in exchange for asking farmers to sell their water allocations back to the government. Drought, coupled with new government policies, had the effect of reducing irrigation in the Basin. This was evidenced by the fact that from 2005/06 to 2007/08, irrigated land use in the MDB fell from 1,654,000 ha to 958,000 ha, representing a decline of 42% (Jiang & Grafton, 2012). As such, controversy arose over the impact of water reform. However, the specific impacts of that reform were impossible to measure because they were accompanied by the worst drought in Australia's modern history. Despite the dramatic impact on farm communities, the Wentworth Group of Concerned Scientists recommended reducing water extractions by 65% in the Murrumbidgee (Tyson, 2010). Two prominent members of that group, Tim Flannery and Richard Kingsford, heavily influenced the science that informed the MDB plan. The importance of their work is discussed in more detail in subsequent chapters. The government focused on the research and recommendations put forward by The Wentworth Group and enforced extraction limits based on their recommendations. The NWI provided the policy framework for institutional reform in the MDB. The reorganization of water management would be based on free-market principles, focused mainly on trade-based reform (COAG, 2004). The plan promised compensation for water taken from irrigation for environmental purposes. The NWI required that "the risks of any reduction or less reliable water allocation under a water access entitlement, arising as a result of bona fide improvements in the knowledge of water systems' capacity to sustain 35 particular extraction levels, are to be borne by users up to 2014." In other words, entitlement holders would have to bear the full cost of reductions meant to achieve sustainable environmental outcomes with no compensation. Paragraph 48 stipulates that entitlement holders will not be compensated for any reductions to water that were meant to deal with climate change or drought (Connell, 2007). Nonetheless, paragraph 51 of the NWI includes an agreement that governments can give compensation for reductions in allocations (COAG, 2004). The agreement shifted responsibility for reducing allocation onto the irrigators, but there was still a drive to offer compensation to minimize disputes. Overall, the MDB plan focused on the volume of water in the system as the cause of degradation and as the key to the recovery. However, the consequences of altering river flows include changing sediment levels and moving salts and nutrients, which can alter the character of the main channels and wetlands (Russell, 2017). Since the beginning of the twentieth century, erosion has increased significantly, filling the system with mud. When this muddy water runs into wetlands, sediment forms and blocks the sunlight, killing the plants and the native fish supported by aquatic plants (Russell, 2017). If governments focus on increasing water flows but fail to address water quality adequately, they can potentially increase environmental damage. Blackwater events occur when there are elevated levels of organic carbon in the water, and the oxygen levels have fallen. This can happen when there is an increase in tree litter as trees become submerged in flood waters. In such events, the oxygen levels drop so low that fish populations suffocate and die. Further, thermal pollution, when water is at the wrong temperature, can have serious negative consequences, like preventing fish from being able to breed (Russell, 2017). The large number of blackwater events in the Basin since the plan has gone into effect has elicited criticism 36 from farmers that the government is paying too much attention to water quantity and not enough attention to water quality. A century of re-engineering the river system has created fundamental changes which dramatically altered the natural ecology and damaged native fish populations. Even when recovered water is of good quality and the benefits of increasing volumes can be seen, governments also must weigh if a higher volume of water is changing the temperature of the water. Further, increasing the volume of water does not address the numerous hazards and obstacles that native fish must face in an irrigation system that supports farms and not fish. Other mitigating measures can also be considered, including restocking threatened fish species, eradicating carp and other non-native species that destroy the ecology of the river; overhauling irrigation infrastructure such as screens on irrigation pumps or overshot weirs so that they can accommodate fish populations; and improving the habitats around floodplains (on farms, and state and national parks). The government has maintained a hardline approach to its target of 2750 gigalitres of water being recovered for environmental purposes (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2019c). The Authority is responsible for coordinating all the monitoring that happens, both from an environmental and socio-economic perspective. The commonwealth environmental water holder does its own environmental water monitoring to look at the effectiveness of its decisions. There is no compulsory acquisition, but the Commonwealth buys water from willing sellers, which is politically sensitive. These problems will be discussed in detail in chapter three. Conclusion 37 There are significant difficulties in managing water resources in the Basin, as described in this chapter. In addressing these challenges, governments and researchers must first understand the history that shaped the policy landscape. Historically embedded assumptions and habits contribute to ways of understanding and communicating these problems. Considering this, as explained in the next chapter, discursive analysis provides an ideal tool for understanding these problems. The MDB is economically, environmentally, and culturally of crucial significance for Australia and has become the 'breadbasket' of the country. However, the history of the MDB is defined by colonization in Australia and the imposition of European conceptions of farming on the land. The environmental consequences of this historical legacy have been profound, with salinization and over-use of precious water reserves defining the course of water management over time. Further, we can see how a history of administrative rationalism has impacted state modes of interference in environmental water management as the tide shifted toward environmental responsibility. The challenges of water management in the early 21st century coalesced with the drought and produced the worst crisis in water management in Australian history. Notwithstanding a great deal of attention and attempts to manage the MDB over the last century, there remain deep problems associated with competition over this resource and claims of mismanagement on all sides. How can we make sense of what has happened here, particularly in terms of the failures in policy design and implementation? In what follows, I unpack how discourses helped construct the crisis and their impact on policy choices and outcomes. But first, the next chapter explains this research's theoretical and methodological approach. 38 Chapter 2: Theoretical Approach and Methods Discourses play an important role in water management decisions in MDB farming communities. Discourse is defined herein as a set of interrelated texts and practices of their production, dissemination, and reproduction that bring an object into being (Phillips and Hardy, 2002, p. 3). Social reality is produced through discourse, and social interactions cannot be understood without reference to the discourses that give those interactions meaning (Phillips & Hardy, 2002, p. 3). At the same time, these interactions, practices, and routines reproduce and normalize discourse. This work explores how discourses impact the policy preferences of farmers and policymakers and how discourses shape acceptable policy choices. Further, it examines how discourses are resisted by farmers and what alternative perspectives, knowledges and policy options are excluded by these discourses.4 A central precondition for reciprocal dialogue between the state and communities is the openness to alternative ideas, perspectives and knowledges (Litfin, 1994; Hajer & Versteeg, 2006; Dryzek, 2013). Expert planners and farming communities have distinct ways of understanding the world, as evidenced through discursive practices like the language, rituals, and symbols each group uses. Discourses define the parameters of what is considered acceptable and desirable. Uncovering the assumptions embedded in discourse is essential to understand how interests are defined and how they can be redefined. In this chapter, first, discourse analysis is defined within the context of the broader literature. The role of discourse in constructing, communicating, challenging, and 4 I focus primarily on farmers as the vehicle for change within the Murray-Darling Basin as they control much of the land there that is under cultivation. Indigenous communities also have much to contribute in terms of sustainable resource practices, but they do not exert as much influence in this particular region. Several attempts were made to locate indigenous farmers, but with no success. 39 institutionalizing certain ideas over others is explained. Second, Mehta’s framework of ideas is presented as a way of understanding how discourses manifest in practice and impact political decision-making (Mehta, 2011). Third, I explain how my approach fits within the broader environmental governance literature, with special attention to water governance. Fourth, I outline the five discourses central to the analysis undertaken in this work. Next, I explain the research design and how it was informed by my theoretical approach. Finally, I offer some personal reflections on this process and how my deep involvement in the research impacted my understanding of the problems in the Basin. 2.1 Conceptualizing Discourse and Resistance Discourse analysis reveals how power is embedded within and reproduced through the ways we communicate with one another. French sociologist Michel Foucault provides the most detailed account of the power of discourse. He argues that discourse has both productive and disciplinary effects. Discourse is productive when it leads to certain consequences or ends. Discourses are productive because they shape possibilities, ideas, beliefs, values, identities, interactions with others, and our behavior (Foucault, 1980). A discourse also encompasses a claim to truth that has disciplinary power (Foucault, 1976). Discourses can be disciplinary by limiting acceptable policy options. Similarly, Hajer (1997) argues that discourses can make it difficult to raise certain questions. According to Hajer, only certain people are allowed to participate within a discourse because it contains internal disciplines through which the prevailing order is maintained (Hajer, 1997, p. 49). Discourse not only includes written and spoken words but also how we depict the world through symbols and pictures and engage with it through practices and routines. Everyone 40 functions within certain discourses and associated practices, but we often take the discourses we operate within for granted. As Foucault explains, even though discourses have productive and disciplinary power, this does not mean they cannot be challenged or that the experts who define a discourse will always control it. Resistance can emerge from within a discourse to question its own norms (Foucault, 1976). In this work, I unpack the discourses at play in the MDB to reveal their productive and disciplinary effects. I also look at how these discourses are challenged through various forms of resistance. Fleming and Vanclay write that “resistance in discourses is a site for agency and transformation” (2009, p. 13). This understanding is influenced by Foucault, who argues that there is typically a dominant discourse that can only be challenged by competing perceptions within it, which he termed ‘resistance.’ This is one of the productive powers inherent within a discourse (as opposed to discourse’s disciplinary power): Discourses are not once and for all subservient to power or raised up against it… We must make allowances for the complex and unstable process whereby a discourse can be both an instrument and an effect of power, but also a hindrance, a stumbling point of resistance and a starting point for an opposing strategy. Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but also undermines and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart.’ (Foucault, 1998, pp. 100-101). In this research, I draw on Foucault’s perception of resistance to show how farmers work within the contours of defined discourses to find ways to influence policy outcomes to achieve their own ends. 41 Richardson et al. (1993) use the concept of resistance in their discursive analysis of the environmental impact assessment hearings for the Alberta-Pacific bleached Kraft pulp mill held in Alberta and the Northwest Territories in 1989-1990. They examine how parties opposed to the project, including farmers, trappers, Indigenous groups, and others, used the dominant discourse as a starting point for presenting an alternative viewpoint. Opponents of the mill pointed to the common use of the phrase sustainable development as an example of how language is used to mask the objective of rapid economic growth and make exploitation of the natural environment more palatable (Richardson et al., 1993, p. 51). Opposing parties were able to present an alternative reading of sustainable development that aligned with its core assumptions but was more amenable to their own goals. Like Richardson et al., this research brings forward examples of how actors seek to contest, subvert, rework, and supplant dominant discourses. This is done – in part – by challenging, using, and reinterpreting commonly accepted phrases and terms. It is important to point out some key distinctions between the works of Foucault and Dryzek – given how much this work draws on the latter – and where this research is positioned. Foucault’s writings focus on the power of a dominant discourse and how that can be challenged from within through resistance. Dryzek, contra Foucault, argues that there are competing discourses acting simultaneously, with some seeking to undermine or supplant others. Foucauldians are committed to the idea that people are subject to the discourse within which they move and are unable to step back and make choices across different discourses. Dryzek disagrees, stating: “discourses are powerful, but they are not impenetrable” (2013, p. 22). While Foucault argued that one single discourse is dominant to a certain field or issue, Dryzek contended that hegemonic discourses can erode and be 42 supplanted by other discourses that may have emerged in relative isolation from the dominant discourse. Further, competing discourses are often quite distinct, thereby potentially offering a range of differing views that may constitute an alternative hegemonic discourse (Dryzek, 2013, p. 22). In Foucault’s theory, discourse is singular and dominant, with both productive and disciplinary effects. In Dryzek’s theory, multiple discourses exist simultaneously and have productive and disciplinary effects. This work builds primarily on Dryzek’s theoretical position. Dryzek conceptualizes the conflicting framings of competing discourses as an opportunity for participants – as well as the analysts studying them – to see that there are different ways of addressing a specific challenge. In other words, conflicts between existing discourses open the possibility for other discourses and, thus, new policy solutions. However, such conflicts can result in discourses losing steam and becoming re-aligned with dominant frames of reference. For example, the mass demonstrations and protests of the Occupy movement, which began in the United States but eventually came to contest economic and social inequality all over the world (2011-12), changed the discourse within society (‘the 99% vs. the 1%’) and challenged the dominant economic order. However, over time the movement’s demands were refined to fit within the economic order. Its calls for action, such as ‘take money out of politics’ or ‘increase taxes for the rich,’ represented compromises designed to make its message more palatable within the established political and economic order. These compromises came to form an important part of the Democratic Party’s political platform in the United States (Levitin, 2018). For the Occupy movement, the seeds of a new discourse arose out of direct conflict with the status quo but eventually came to reflect a compromise within the established economic discourse. 43 The co-constitutive relationship between discourses and practices is explored in this work. Several other authors, such as James Scott and Tania Murray Li, take a similar approach. In his book Seeing Like a State, Scott argues that discourses exhibit agency. Scott offers the notion of transcripts, both hidden and public. These are established ways of behaving and speaking that fit particular actors in specific contexts (Scott, 1992). He develops this idea in a way that links to Foucault’s notion of resistance within discourse. Actors resist public transcripts by using prescribed roles and language to resist the abuse of power (Scott, 1985, p. 137). It is essential to recognize, however, that both dominant and weak parties are often caught within the same web of socialized roles and behaviour (Scott, 1992). These roles are frequently expressed without any conscious intent. In this sense, power structures can be subconscious and internalized through transcripts rather than being deliberate, intentional and calculated acts of domination (Scott, 1992). Actors, consciously and unconsciously, think and communicate within the prescribed norms of a dominant discourse even as they resist power structures. In lay terms, actors operate within the confines of the status quo, even when resisting the status quo. One of the critical questions this research addresses is how local farmers have challenged the dominant discourses in the MDB and put forward their own knowledge and policy solutions. To address this requires thinking critically about the relationship between local farmer knowledge and the state. From a cynical point of view, eliminating local (in this case, farmer) knowledge can be seen as a prerequisite for asserting state power. A more optimistic view, as expressed herein, is that there can be a reciprocal relationship between local and state knowledge. Scott expresses the former view in Seeing like a State. Scott observes that governments act in ways that increase their power, whether intentionally or 44 not. Given the nature of power, he says that states devise improvement schemes based on the kinds of information that will allow states to intervene and assert their power. For Scott, due to the high modernist5 nature of many states, eliminating local knowledge becomes a precondition for administrative interventions, taxation, worker disciplines, and profit (Scott, 1999). While Scott’s arguments are important in that they draw attention to how governments and elites try to suppress local knowledge to push their own agendas, his approach does not pay enough attention to instances in which local actors can influence governments. At any given time, numerous actors influence the government’s agenda. In Beyond ‘the state’ and failed schemes (2005), Tania Murray Li takes the latter, more optimistic approach to understanding the relationship between states and local people. She argues that eliminating local knowledge is not a necessary consequence of state power. To support her argument, she gives several examples of how local knowledge has been used by experts. Li’s theoretical perspective highlights the role of non-state actors that attempt to influence government: particularly social reformers, scientists, and nongovernmental agencies. Like Scott, Li asks why certain schemes to improve the human condition have failed, but she reframes the question to ask: What could these schemes potentially do? For Li, there can be processes in place that allow for a productive relationship between planners and those affected by improvement schemes. Identifying these processes requires a closer examination of how relationships are socially constructed between these actors. This research, therefore, carefully examines the social relationships 5 High modernism is characterized by an unfaltering confidence in science and technology as means to reorder the social and natural world. The underlying assumptions of high modernism are closely aligned with administrative rationalism and discussed further below. 45 between farmers and policymakers in the MDB and demonstrates Li’s conclusion that discourses are shaped and transformed by the social relationships of actors. Foucault argues that one cannot only conceptualize power as a manifestation of material relations, but that knowledge is its own form of power with distinct origins and effects. One environmental, political scientist who works with Foucault’s ideas to analyze productive and disciplinary power is Karen Litfin (1995). I adopt Litfin’s view that discourses determine what can and cannot be thought, thereby defining the range of policy options. She writes, “discourses entail, but are not reducible to, interpretations. Rather, they are broader sets of linguistic practices embedded in networks of social relations and tied to narratives about the construction of the world” (Litfin, 1995, pp. 252-253). Further, as Foucault discusses at length, they serve to empower certain actors and exclude others. However, they also offer a site of resistance that can provoke new discourses to emerge. Under conditions of scientific uncertainty, particularly in the case of environmental crisis, actors of all types can reframe and interpret information in ways that eventually change the discourse. Environmental problems are “discursive phenomena that can be studied as struggles against contested knowledge claims, which become incorporated into divergent narratives about risk and responsibility” (Litfin, 1995, p. 254). In Litfin’s study of how the precautionary principle came to dominate debates about how to respond to the ozone ‘hole’ in the late 1980s and early 1990s, she explains that while scientific uncertainty justified a cautious approach, a shift in the meaning of the word ‘caution’ itself came to be significant. Reframing ‘caution’ to highlight the potential environmental consequences of an increasing hole in the ozone suddenly made environmental vulnerability more acute than industrial vulnerability (Litfin, 1995, p. 260). Litfin explains that the shift did not emerge 46 from scientific consensus alone but in combination with specific discursive strategies. Therefore, the role of agents in influencing the discourse is critical in terms of policy definitions and solutions. This research is grounded in the premise that understanding the assumptions embedded in environmental discourses and the dynamics within and between discourses and the actors who use them is critical to understanding policy prescriptions and outcomes. Discourse analysis helps us see the epistemological and ontological assumptions about the world embedded in policies and day-to-day life. Acknowledging and understanding these underlying assumptions will ultimately be essential for addressing problems more effectively through policy measures. 2.2 Public Philosophies, Problem Definitions and Policy Solutions There are many possible approaches to conducting discourse analysis. One such point of departure is Jal Mehta’s framework which looks at discourses in terms of how they shape policy at the level of ideas. This work uses elements of Mehta’s theoretical approach to understanding how specific ideas function in the context of the MDB. While discourses embody more than just ideas -and the relationship between ideas and practices within a discourse is co-constitutive- focusing on the power of ideas is valuable in and of itself. Mehta’s framework helps unpack key ideational elements of discourses and understand how these translate into specific policy decisions. Mehta considers ideas at three levels of generality: policy solutions, problem definitions, and public philosophies or zeitgeists. A policy solution is the narrowest form of an idea. Problems and solutions are not preestablished. The way a problem is defined has significant implications for the types of 47 policy solutions that become desirable. Much political contestation, therefore, occurs at the level of problem definition. Public philosophies and zeitgeists represent the third, higherorder ideas. These are ideas that cut across substantive areas. For example, public philosophy includes ideas about the role of the government or public policy in the context of broad assumptions about the market or society (Mehta 2011, p. 40). What Mehta terms public philosophy is similar to what Dryzek (2013) identifies as the broader assumptions embedded in environmental problem-solving discourses. Mehta describes public philosophies as influencing the kinds of problem definitions that emerge. In turn, problem definitions narrow the range of possible solutions and the type of knowledge(s) considered relevant for solving a problem. Nevertheless, certain forms of new knowledge can make their way into dominant discourses if that knowledge is constructed in a way that is consistent with the prevailing public philosophies. Public philosophies, or what Dryzek calls the overarching problem-solving discourse, can and do change over time, but it is noteworthy that they are highly resistant to change. I use Mehta’s term public philosophies to describe the values and beliefs that define certain discursive frameworks for addressing environmental problems. These philosophies shape how we define problems and seek to resolve them (Mehta, 2011). The ontological and epistemological assumptions embedded in an environmental discourse, as Dryzek (2013) discusses them, are important elements of public philosophies. Of Mehta’s three levels of ideas, problem definitions are the primary focus of analysis in this research. As Mehta (2013) points out, political arguments are fought mainly at the level of problem definition. Problem definitions tend to combine both normative and empirical claims, with these two elements being mutually reinforcing. The way that 48 problems are framed has significant implications for the kinds of policy solutions that emerge. This is a productive effect of discourse. On the disciplinary side, problem definitions can limit or narrow the range of policy solutions that are considered desirable while dismissing what might be regarded as illogical or misguided. Focusing our attention on discourses at the level of problem definition can help reveal underlying public philosophies while at the same time explaining chosen policy solutions and their effects. In other words, focusing on problem definitions allows the researcher to uncover higherorder ideas and assumptions (the wider public philosophies), as well as the disciplinary effects of discourse on lower-order ideas that take the form of policy solutions. As Mehta explains, the narrowest form of ideas is policy solutions. At this level, we can look at the actions and responses that emerge from contests over problem definition. We also need to look at the kinds of behaviours and ways of communicating that appear along with a given discourse to reinforce its central assumptions or to challenge them. When considering this level of ideas, James Scott’s notion of ‘transcripts,’ both hidden and public, is useful. As discussed above, transcripts are established ways of behaving and speaking by particular actors in specific contexts (Scott, 1992). Scott developed this idea in a way that links to Foucault’s notion of resistance within discourse. Actors resist ‘public transcripts’ by making use of prescribed roles and language to resist the abuse of power (Scott, 1985, p. 137). Notably, Scott argues that the dominant and the weak are often caught within the same web of socialized roles and behaviour. These roles are frequently expressed without any conscious intent. In this sense, Scott has a cultural/psychological view of power structures as subconscious and internalized through transcripts rather than deliberate and calculated acts of domination (Scott, 1992). This aligns with Dryzek’s 49 conception of discourse as having a reflexive and shifting nature. People, consciously and unconsciously, think and communicate within prescribed norms even when resisting dominant power structures. The theoretical concept of transcripts is used in this analysis of MDB politics. For example, farmers often use transcripts from the discourse of economic rationalism to challenge dominant policy prescriptions and present their own priorities in, arguably, economically rational terms. These transcripts from the government and farmers form an important aspect of this analysis. 2.3 Operationalizing a Focus on Problem Definition Mehta’s conception of ideas, mainly ‘problem definition,’ is used herein to analyze MDB politics. A problem definition is when we seek to define an approach to a given problem discursively. Problem definition operates in the background, entering discussions as arguments are made for or against a policy (Mehta, 2011, p. 35). New problem definitions allow debates to evolve and change, and they also impact the kinds of practices that come to be accepted. Practices also influence which ideas are accepted and which are not. He argues that “problem definition is a contested process among players with varying levels of power and persuasiveness” (2011, p. 34). Mehta identified six factors which he argues will determine whether a given problem definition succeeds (Mehta, 2011, pp. 35-37). Mehta refers to the first factor as the “powers and resources of the claimants”: power is not limited to the resources of the actors; it is also about the ability of actors to frame issues in ways that give them power. Second, problem definitions are successful based on how claimants portray the issues (framing). There is a wide range of strategies available to actors to successfully define an 50 issue, including effective storytelling, shifting the burden of proof, using accepted metaphors, and invoking symbols. Third, the venue or context in which the problem is heard impacts the success of problem definitions: shifting venues can effectively garner support from actors. Fourth, establishing authority over a problem definition is a key battleground for lending legitimacy to any problem definition. Fifth, whether a policy solution for a given problem and definitions determines the success of problem definitions: successful problem definitions are generally accompanied by strong and viable policy proposals. Finally, the fit between the problem definition and the broader environment impacts the success of the problem definition. Whether a policy definition resonates with the views held by the general public or media is a key determinant of whether a problem definition will be successful (Mehta, 2011, pp. 35-37). These six factors appear in various forms throughout this study. For instance, farmers try to frame problems in ways that give them the moral high ground. Both farmers and government officials are also careful to couch their issues in language that has the most impact in garnering public support. This tactic is evidenced through the metaphors and rhetoric they use. Further, both sides seek to establish authority over the ways that problems are defined by representing themselves as ‘experts.’ What typically occurs within policy development circles is that actors who offer problem definitions that conform easily to established sets of practices and policy solutions tend to have greater influence. Foucault (1969) refers to this influence as the productive effect of discourse. At the same time, dominant problem definitions discipline the range of policy solutions by narrowing the acceptable possibilities. Actors who offer solutions that do not reflect the prevailing problem definitions have difficulty advancing those solutions. 51 Dominant problem definitions can, therefore, discipline the search for solutions and what may be considered acceptable. Problem definitions can also act as sites of resistance, as actors try to change problem definitions in ways that will be accepted and thereby change policies and practices. Under Dryzek’s framework of competing discourses, shifts in problem definitions can be influenced by shifts towards or away from certain discourses. For instance, the rise of green discourse (with its distinct public philosophy) arguably contributed to significant shifts in how policymakers defined problems in the MDB. Dominant problem definitions also determine who has the perceived legitimacy to speak. For example, if water is defined as a tradable asset, economists may have more legitimacy to talk about water than environmentalists. However, consistent with Foucault’s and Scott’s understanding of the politics of resistance, when marginalized voices start working within dominant discourses to redefine how problems are expressed and addressed, they can also have an impact (though this can be an uphill battle). In sum, a dominant problem definition is a form of power that can reinforce the status quo, but contestation over problem definitions can also create opportunities for significant institutional change. New problem definitions may allow for policy options that do not necessarily conform to the dominant policy paradigms, thereby contributing to a shift in a public philosophy (Hall, 1993). Table 2 (below) depicts the main elements of my theoretical framework. In particular, it highlights the ways Mehta’s (2013) categories of ideas connect with Dryzek’s (2013) elements of a discourse. Reading across the table shows the alignment between Mehta’s categories and Dryzek’s elements of discourse analysis and the questions raised at each level which researchers can bring to the study of specific cases. Reading down the 52 table, we find each of Mehta’s three levels of ideas. The third level, that of policy solutions, also incorporates Scott’s concept of transcripts and Foucault’s notion of resistance as “elements of discourse” to explain the discursive struggles that occur at the level of developing and implementing policy solutions. This table also provides examples relevant to the case of the MDB, with reference to Dryzek’s three problem-solving discourses: administrative rationalism, economic rationalism and democratic pragmatism. 53 Table 2- Categories of Ideas and Elements of Discourse Categories of Ideas (Mehta) Elements of Discourse Analytical Questions Raised Public philosophy: Basic entities recognized or constructed and assumptions about natural relationships (Dryzek) What are the basic entities constructed and re(affirmed) through this discourse? Includes values, beliefs about the economy and the role of government in society. Includes normative statements about the scope and nature of government in society. Is closely aligned with what Dryzek refers to as ontological and epistemological assumptions. Example: Under Administrative Rationalism, liberal capitalism is a basic entity. Basic assumptions include that nature is subordinate to human problem-solving and that experts and managers should control environmental decisionmaking. Example: Under Economic Rationalism, markets and private property are key basic entities. Basic assumptions include that competition is good, and the environment is best regulated through free market principles. Problem definitions A problem definition is a particular way of interpreting an issue. A problem’s framing has significant implications for how proposed policy solutions are constructed and perceived. Problem definitions act as a site of resistance within a given discourse (Foucault). Example: the water crisis may be defined as being caused by poor farming practices, or by the selfish interests of individual farmers, or by climate change (with each definition relating to competing normative, ontological and epistemological assumptions identified above as well as the contests over policy solutions identified below). How is the role of the state defined in this discourse? What is the relationship between individuals and the markets in this discourse? What is the nature of competition and cooperation in this discourse? How is the relationship between nature and people defined in this discourse? How is ‘environment’ understood in this discourse? Assumptions about agents and How do problem definitions their motives, and Key Metaphors understand the ways that actors are and Other Rhetorical Devices motivated? (Dryzek) What common metaphors and Problem definitions provide an rhetorical devices are used to explanation of the nature of a characterize the problem? problem, including its severity, impacts, relevance, and causes. economic Example: Under rationalism, it is assumed that actors Example: Under democratic are motivated by self-interest and that pragmatism, it is assumed that some government officials may be actors are motivated both by motivated by public interest. material self-interest and multiple Rhetorical devices often include conceptions of public interest. “market freedoms” and a rejection of “command and control.” 54 Policy Solutions The proposed solutions deemed relevant to specific problem definitions. The specific policy tools and practices of government, which in turn, shape the perceptions and behaviours and practices of a wide range of actors. Example: under administrative rationalism, policy solutions may include strict government regulations to regulate behaviours, such as forced reductions in consumptive use or financial penalties for overextraction. Transcripts (Scott) and actions/responses that emerge in support of or resistance/opposition to the policy solutions (Foucault). Example: Under economic rationalism, if policy solutions focus on market-based incentives, we may then see farmers use terms associated with economic rationalism to challenge the actions of the government What are the words, phrases, and actions that frequently appear in this discourse to (re)produce its central assumptions? What are the specific orientations and policy solutions proposed? What alternative solutions or ideas are marginalized by the policy solution, and which actors are excluded/included from it? What resistance is generated within the discourse associated with this policy solution, and what effects does this resistance have? Political scientists working in the realm of ideas – known as constructivists – generally take a defensive posture, trying to establish that ideas matter in a discipline which privileges neo-Marxist, structuralist, or rational choice models of explanation (Mehta, 2011, p. 24). Constructivists argue that material forces alone are insufficient in explaining how people act. Mehta explains that we must move beyond the question of whether ideas matter and ask how they matter. Mehta writes, “ideas, broadly defined, are central to questions about agenda setting, social movements, revolutions, diffusion, policy choice, the conceptual categories that underlie politics, path dependency and path-shaping change institution building, institutional stability, institutional change, voter identity formation, interest group formation, and political coalition building” (2011, p. 25). Ideas matter in terms of their impacts on policies. The assumptions embedded within a discourse are grounded in a specific public philosophy, and each public philosophy, in turn, relates to problem definitions and policy solutions. While there are aspects of discourse other than ideas, focusing on these three levels of ideas has significant 55 explanatory power. Change may occur at the level of public philosophies– particularly when a crisis occurs– allowing new voices and perspectives to gain power. For example, in the case of an environmental crisis like drought, an epistemological crisis can also occur, enabling certain public philosophies to gain more currency than others.6 The term drought is a discursive way of framing low rainfall over an extended period in a way that stimulates a new problem definition. Problem definitions, in turn, tend to dictate the possibilities and limits of acceptable policy solutions. Important changes happen at the level of problem definitions. Water, for instance, can be defined as an asset, a commodity, a resource, an element of the natural world, etc. Each definition has consequences for how we understand water and what can be done with it. The way we define problems is rooted in language, norms and values. Change can also stem from policy solutions by shaping the practices, roles and transcripts of actors. Policy solutions, in turn, can shift problem definitions and, ultimately, public philosophies (though the latter are notoriously persistent). In this work, discourse analysis is focused primarily on the levels of problem definition and policy solutions but also looks at how a crisis like a drought contributed to shifting public philosophies. While discourse analysis includes more than just ideas, Mehta’s conception of ideas has significant explanatory power in the case of the MDB and thus is the primary focus of analysis. 2.4 Water Governance Governance in the MDB must be understood in the context of the broader literature on water governance. Water governance refers to the political, social, economic, and 6 Whether or not a shift in public philosophy actually occurred in this case is something I explore in chapter 4. 56 administrative systems in place to develop and manage water resources and deliver water services at different levels of society (Rogers & Hall, 2008). The notion of governance for water includes the ability to design public policies and institutional frameworks generally accepted by society. Water policy has the critical goal of sustainable development of water resources, and the key stakeholders must be involved in the process (Rogers & Hall, 2008). Water governance theory is about how water is governed and about prescribing policy approaches based on what can be learned from a diversity of contemporary cases. The following provides a broad overview of the current water governance literature, explaining key concepts like polycentric and collaborative governance, and how these concepts relate to the case of the MDB. Further, my contribution to this theoretical literature through a discursive analysis of the MDB is explained. There is an overall agreement in the water governance literature that polycentric governance structures are desirable (Huitema et al. 2009; Pahl-Wostl et al., 2013; Garrick et al., 2018). This literature argues that shared structures of power are more effective than other models, including market-based allocation, as well as both centralized and decentralized systems (Pahl-Wostl et al., 2013) Polycentric governance systems are distinct from each of these other three models. In markets, individual citizen‐consumers are responsible for providing goods and services. In centralized systems, democratically elected governments make decisions over the supply of public goods like water on behalf of citizens. In decentralized systems, authority is allocated to subnational (e.g., regional, and local) governments. In polycentric governance systems, different authorities – central and local governments, agencies, self‐governed user groups, firms, or other hybrid organizations – participate in markets and they plan horizontally and vertically across 57 geographic scales to coproduce public goods (Garrick et al., 2018). Polycentric systems have multiple centres of power, and these generally are non-hierarchal (Huitema et al. 2009). Pahl-Wostl et al. (2013) argue that an essential condition for improving performance is striving for more polycentric structures since polycentricity allows river basins, regions, and countries to find a governance structure uniquely suited to contextual circumstances rather than following narrowly prescribed courses of action. The earliest works on polycentric governance concern local communities' selfgoverning capacity (Huitema et al., 2009). The assumption underlying this literature is that since local communities face unique sets of problems, their local knowledge means they are in a better position to address problems. Polycentric systems are seen to be more resilient because issues with varying geographical scopes can be managed at different levels. If one form of governance fails, another may be more successful. Further, the large number of units means there are more opportunities for experimentation with new approaches, and the units can learn from one another (Huitema et al., 2009). It is notable that water governance in the MDB can be thought of as polycentric in certain ways. In the case of the MDB, local entities like councils, regional groups like catchment authorities, and provincial governing entities have historically aligned decisionmaking with national policy (Wyborn et al., 2023). Governance has depended on a broad consensus about rules, policies, and values because no one party was in charge (Abel et al. 2016). These alignments suggest that it could be useful to examine the case of the MDB through the lens of polycentric governance. The literature on environmental governance describes different approaches to polycentric governance. For example, the “classical modernist” approach to polycentric 58 institutional design is organized by jurisdictions at hierarchical government levels (national, regional, and local) without overlaps in tasks (Hajer 2003). Alexandra (2019) draws on this understanding to unpack “good governance” structures in the MDB. This author argues for several institutional features that historically endowed capacities for transboundary governance in the MDB. First, shared waters meant shared infrastructure that required shared decision-making frameworks. Second, formal intergovernmental agreements provided the constitutional frameworks that enabled further agreements, particularly regarding salinity. Third, tensions between different governments required negotiations in which pragmatic solutions generally prevailed. Fourth, attempts to organize across geographical boundaries and technical, scientific, and policy domains allowed information to be shared between agencies, experts, water users and the public. Finally, diverse partnerships with educational and research agencies, community, and industry groups, established a collective sense of responsibility for co-managing rivers (Alexandra, 2019). Despite the increased centralization of governing authority for water resources under the MDBA since the Millennium drought, the ‘classical modernist’ approach to institutional design, where an exclusivity of jurisdictions is prominent, is still prevalent in the MDB. The ’classical modernist’ design, however, is now increasingly regarded as impracticable and ineffective (Huitema et al., 2009). Water governance strongly depends on institutional arrangements. As Alexandra (219) writes, “the plethora of recent inquiries into the adequacy and integrity of governance arrangements in the Murray Darling Basin indicates a crisis of trust, legitimacy and public confidence – in short, a loss of authority”. Current governments are losing the authority and legitimacy needed to govern the Basin 59 despite efforts at more collaborative governance. Inquiries have revealed serious concerns about integrity, poor administration and failures of compliance and enforcement regimes (Alexandra, 2019). Further, recent reforms in the MDB have marginalized actors outside federal, state, and territorial governments (Wyborn, 2023). Political conflicts between central governing bodies have led to questionable progress toward water reform. The flexibility and adaptability that characterize polycentric governance seem to be lacking in this case (Wyborn et al., 2023). This ‘classical modernist’ approach is closely aligned with Dryzek’s (2013) discourse of administrative rationalism introduced elsewhere in this chapter, which focuses on the role of government institutions and bureaucracies in orchestrating effective water governance. In the last twenty years or so, worldwide, the state’s historical role of directing society has been contested by unified local networks (civil society, private sector) and global networks (international organizations and NGOs). The state is increasingly seen as part of the problem rather than the solution. Further, states no longer believe they can solve societal problems acting alone, particularly socio-environmental ones. There is also increased awareness that markets alone will not be able to address social and environmental problems. Consequently, both hierarchical governance and market-led models are much weakened (Rogers & Hall, 2008). As is explained in my discussion of administrative rationalism and economic rationalism in this chapter, both state and market-led approaches are being challenged by more bottom-up approaches. In response to these challenges, governance models – especially ones we can define as polycentric - have moved towards the more collaborative approach. 60 Ansell & Gash (2008) define collaborative governance as “a governing arrangement where one or more public agencies directly engage non-state stakeholders in a collective decision-making process that is formal, consensus-oriented, and deliberative and that aims to make or implement public policy or manage public programs or assets.” This definition tries to emphasize six criteria; public agencies or institutions initiate the forum for deliberation, participants in the forum include non-state actors, participants engage directly in decision-making and are not merely ‘consulted’, the forum is formally organized and meets collectively, the forum aims to make decisions by consensus, and the focus of collaboration is on public policy or public management (Ansell & Gash, 2008). As we can see, one of the main attributes of collaborative governance is public participation. Public participation is thought to improve decision-making by expanding the decision-making process to more people. Participation can enhance public understanding of the issues, make better use of information from the public, make decision-making more transparent, and encourage governments to respond more thoughtfully to input that is received (Huitema et al. 2009). Overall, participation improves transparency and contributes to more democratic decision-making. Public participation is only feasible, however, if there is a willingness and capacity of stakeholders to participate and of policymakers to organize participation efforts. Interest groups must have the resources and level of organization to participate effectively. Further, policymakers are not always willing or able to invite public participation, especially if the management culture is technocratic (Huitema et al. 2009). Collaborative strategies face many obstacles: influential stakeholders manipulate the process; public agencies lack real commitment to collaboration; and distrust becomes a barrier to good faith negotiation (Ansell & Gash, 61 2008). Nonetheless, collaborative strategies have sometimes meant that adversaries have learned to engage in productive discussions, public managers have developed better relationships with stakeholders, and alternative forms of collective learning and problemsolving have emerged (Ansell & Gash, 2008). This literature on collaborative governance is closely aligned with assumptions embedded in the discourse of democratic pragmatism introduced by Dryzek (2013), wherein there is a belief that participation is key to effective democratic decision-making. The literature on democratic pragmatism underscores these positive benefits of enhanced efforts at collaborative governance. Nonetheless, governments have been reluctant to move towards a more collaborative approach to water management (Huitema et al. 2009). In cases examined by Huitema et al. (2009), the researchers found that governments lacked experience with multi-party processes, relied heavily on the expertise of experts, feared losing power, or worried that broad participation would undermine confidentiality. My research investigates barriers to a more collaborative approach in the MDB, examining the role of experts, power dynamics, and fears around including farmers in policy processes. In model deliberative processes, participants are open to changing their opinions through persuasion. Deliberative processes are characterized by respect, sharing of information, and allowing all actors to participate freely. Straight interest-based bargaining, coercion, manipulation, manufactured consent, or deception are not a part of the deliberative process (Dryzek, 2000). However, all governance involves power: more powerful actors receive favourable outcomes. Therefore, the question of how power dynamics can challenge or reinforce polycentric governance systems is critically important (Morrison et al., 2019). Despite its central significance, Morrison et al. (2019) argue that 62 power has not been fully explored with respect to impacts on water governance. The lens of power can reveal causal relationships that are hidden. Broader work on water governance makes use of several power perspectives, including those of Foucault, Habermas, and Gramsci (e.g., Behagel and Arts, 2014; Zeitoun and Allan, 2008). My own work uses Foucault’s’ notion of the productive and disciplinary power of discourse in shaping outcomes. The question of how power dynamics influence policy processes is explored in detail herein through an in-depth examination of discursive power. Collaborative approaches are grounded in the assumption that all actors can contribute to the process and impact outcomes. Where actors have equal power, this may be possible. However, in the case of water governance, the actors that come together in the collaborative process are rarely equal. Governments can initiate collaboration in ways that serve their own needs. Private firms may see collaborative processes to maintain their social license to operate. Environmental organizations seek sustainability objectives, and citizens may seek to address local issues (Brisbois & de Loë, 2016). The motivations of these actors differ substantially, and some have more power to influence the collaborative process than others. The motivations of the state may also be fragmented, with individual actors framing problems in different ways. Nonetheless, as in administrative rationalism, states remain the dominant decision-making authorities (Brisbois & de Loë, 2016). According to Brisbois & de Loë (2016), water problems are progressively being addressed using collaborative approaches to governance. However, despite trends toward collaborative governance, governments continue to play critical roles in initiating collaboration, providing financial support, and approving and implementing policies. From two case studies in Ontario and Alberta, Brisbois & de Loë find that provincial 63 governments exerted power from agenda setting to implementation in response to socioeconomic factors, reinforcing existing power structures. The position and orientation of the provinces challenged the potential for collaboration in working towards positive social and environmental outcomes. These cases point to how power dynamics, can significantly impact efforts towards collaborative governance. Other research supports the conclusion that the capacity for collaborative action is closely tied to internal power dynamics. Da Silveira & Richards (2013) looks at two cases of river basin management, one in the European Union (the Rhine), and one in China (the Zhujiang) and found that polycentric governance was more conducive to adaptation strategies only where certain conditions were met. Their work posits that the influence of a polycentric governance system on adaptive capacity depends on the internal power dynamics among the components of a system and their competitive versus collaborative patterns of interaction (da Silveira & Richards, 2013). In the Rhine basin, the European economic integration process allowed for a greater capacity to monitor environmental water and generate a common understanding of the problems in the basin. Communication and negotiation platforms made available by the International Commission for the Protection of the Rhine (ICPR) and EU institutional structures changed how key actors perceived their individual interests. These platforms not only reduced the competition for resources but were conducive to generating an institutional environment more conducive to monitoring and sanctioning. In contrast, there was a more prescriptive use of polycentric governance in China. Managers and decision-makers were found to overstate the value of having multiple centres of power. The authors found that governance systems were 64 fragmented in the Chinese case, and there was difficulty coordinating to achieve shared goals (da Silveira & Richards, 2013) In the case of the MDB, power imbalances are observed in how certain kinds of information are privileged over others (Colloff et al. 2021). While scientific evidence is critical in decision-making, a propensity towards ‘administrative capture’ is apparent. Colloff et al. (2021) describe a process of ‘administrative capture’ that occurred in the MDB. In this process, publications and public comments were controlled by decision makers' contracts, intellectual property rights assignments, and control over what information is allowed to be publicly available. Further, in some cases, threats to withdraw funding were also made. Colloff observes that scientists trusted by decision-makers tended to share similar worldviews, and their influence on policy was built on reinforcing each other’s views. Colloff writes, “Administrative capture of science is, by its nature, a subtle and insidious process where the scientist may be unaware of how agenda setting and the development and questioning of hypotheses is gradually reframed to conform to the policy priorities and agendas of government agencies (Colloff et al., 2021).” According to Colloff et al. (2021), a shift in the stance of scientists is important because in implementing the MDB Plan, where uncertainty is high, and values are contested, science can do little to help reach a consensus or achieve a common course of action. However, under such difficult conditions, policy practitioners will use science to position the debate in ways that suggest a dominant set of widely shared values (Colloff et al., 2021). The authors argue that the required response should be to reconcile competing values through negotiation and compromise, not science that supports policies favoured by those in authority. Authorities may facilitate research partnerships that are only open to 65 scientists who accept the existing policy frameworks. Under these circumstances, criticism and dissent are crushed, directly suppressing contrary science outputs and self-censorship by scientists who generate such findings. Science initiatives have been eliminated if considered politically inconvenient, sometimes with negative personal and professional impacts on researchers (Marlow, 2020). In some cases, scientists who speak out have had their work publicly criticized (Colloff et al., 2021). It is evident from these examples that, despite efforts towards collaborative governance, power dynamics influence outcomes. Discourse analysis offers a way to unpack how prevailing world views impact power dynamics in water management. From a water governance perspective, this is important because polycentric governance structures are affected by the power dynamics at play among competing actors. Discursive power focuses on the ability of actors to shape social norms, values and identities. Dominant cultural framings may prevent actors from recognizing that a given outcome will harm their well-being or interest or that they can make a difference in outcomes (Gaventa, 1982). The dominant discourses in my work offer a way to understand the relationship between how power manifests in the context of water governance. Like my own work, Wyborn et al. (2023) draw on Dryzek’s (2013) discourses of environmental problemsolving, specifically administrative rationalism, economic rationalism, and democratic pragmatism, to characterize different logics of water governance in the MDB. The authors characterize these discourses as normative because they point to how environmental problem-solving should be done. These discourses also invoke and reproduce patterns of power relations (Wyborn et al., 2023). These discourses provide a way of understanding how competing institutional logics drive different approaches to governance. In 66 administrative rationalism, actors address water governance through administrative and technical logic. In polycentrism, administrative rationalism is evident where rules, legislation, and arrangements that privilege technical expertise are evidenced (Wyborn et al., 2023). Problem-solving in this logic is done through trade-offs, negotiating competing interests, and enforcing agreements and rules. Power is generally constrained to central governing bodies. In the polycentric structure, efforts are directed toward creating new rules, improving the implementation of existing agreements, or guaranteeing compliance. Though the approach is structurally polycentric, it does not allow for the flexibility and collaborative learning to enable adaptive governance (Wyborn et al., 2023). In the context of the MDB, it is important to ask how efforts towards collaborative governance are impacted by administrative rationalism as a dominant discourse. The productive and disciplinary effects of this discourse on policy development, particularly collaborative actions are explored in this work. Democratic pragmatism, it seems, represents a positive approach to adaptive management within the context of polycentric governance structures. For Dryzek, under the logic of democratic pragmatism, “the relevant knowledge cannot be centralized in the hands of any individual or any administrative state structure ... problem-solving should be a flexible process involving many voices, and cooperation across a plurality of perspectives” (Dryzek 2013:100). In democratic pragmatism, new ideas are more likely to emerge, and collective learning and action are more likely to take place. Democratic pragmatism, while situated in the liberal capitalist framework, still provides a logic corresponding to many of the features of collaborative governance. Democratic pragmatism appears to represent a more straightforward road toward adaptive management 67 within a polycentric governance system (Wyborn et al., 2023). In the context of the MDB, this raises the question of how democratic pragmatism may hinder or progress the objectives of collaborative governance. A prominent perspective reflected in the literature is that farmers, having caused much of the environmental damage in the Basin, have little to offer in terms of input into environmental policy. In these works, the value of incorporating local knowledge in the process is questioned, with some researchers arguing that consultations were expensive and ineffective. For instance, Crase et al. (2014) argue that Australian taxpayers will be worse off as a result of the community consultations undertaken by the Murray–Darling Basin Authority (Crase et al., 2014). Garrick and Coggan (2013) believe that the costs of consultations were too high and that if governments had limited public consultation and pursued their agenda of market acquisition unimpeded, then there would have been much lower transaction costs associated with the reform process. Further, Ross et al. (2002, p. 216) argue that consultations were problematic and that risks may have outweighed benefits, “consultation burnout”; the capacity to “raise unreasonable expectations”; the possibility that the most powerful stakeholders shape the issues, thereby limiting input from less powerful stakeholders (Ross et al. 2002, 216). It is important to ask, therefore, if democratic pragmatism opens up avenues for increased participation, or do the limitations associated with the discourse impede more collaborative governance processes? Economic rationalism sits somewhere between administrative rationalism and democratic pragmatism. Markets are constructed through administrative rules, but actors within a polycentric system have the capacity to self-organize within the market parameters and the rules defined by governments. In theory, conflicts and trade-offs are resolved 68 through market mechanisms in which supply and demand typically allocate limited resources to the most efficient, highest-value use (Wyborn et al., 2023). In practice, however, allocation decisions tend to favour those with greater economic power or political influence (Alexandra and Rickards, 2021). The economic rationalism logic does not intend to address political disparities or give voice to economically disadvantaged people. The influence of economic rationalism in shaping how power is distributed through a governance system is, therefore, an essential consideration for adaptive water governance (Alexandra 2019). My work examines the relationship between economic rationalism and collaborative governance. For example, do market mechanisms give agency to farmers in the MDB and encourage more active participation? Conversely, does a more market-based system contribute to power imbalances that interfere with collaborative processes? Polycentric arrangements are often considered normatively desirable, given their capacity to enable transformative change through their perceived adaptive capacity (PahlWostl 2020). However, the benefits of polycentric governance systems are questionable, given the overarching logic within which these systems operate. Examining power dynamics within polycentric governance systems can offer researchers a better understanding of how water governance systems can thrive or fail. This examination can also help researchers and practitioners understand the conditions and tools required for introducing non-hierarchal, and more ‘bottom-up’ governance structures. An analysis of Dryzek’s dominant environmental problem-solving discourses shows that some forms of polycentricity are likely more adaptive and transformative than others (Wyborn et al., 2023). My research explores the important intersection between power, discourse, and governance decisions. Discourses have important productive and disciplinary effects that 69 impact the adaptive capacity of environmental systems. Despite efforts towards polycentric water governance structures, these power dynamics intervene and shape the courses of action that are taken. Much of the literature on polycentric governance looks at how governments attempt to engage stakeholders in deliberative processes (Da Silveira & Richards, 2013; Brisbois & de Loë, 2016). Some attention is also paid to the ways governments privilege certain types of information (Colloff et al., 2021) Further, some scholars have examined discursive factors that may limit the capacity for polycentric governance (Wyborn et al., 2023). Wyborn et al. (2023) examine 34 reviews of water governance in the MDB since 2004, seeking to identify systems that are resistant to change and maintain conventional discursive paradigms, and which enable adaptive transformation. There have not been attempts in the literature, however, to characterize how a specific group of stakeholders, like farmers, construct their understanding of the issues. This detailed discursive analysis situates the voices of farmers as central to understanding the conditions under which they may be engaged in the collaborative process. The analysis of farmer discourse in this case offers insight into how those affected by policies understand the impacts of these policies on their lives. Resistance to the dominant discursive framings of an issue is better understood by uncovering the assumptions and underlying motivations of individual actors affected by policies. For governments to reconcile competing interests and values, they must understand the underlying motivations of actors. For example, it is unwise to assume that stakeholders are motivated solely by economic interests, or that they are unconcerned about environmental interests. They may have interests that extend beyond economic considerations, and their understandings of the environment -and their relationship to the 70 environment- may influence their understanding of what actions should be taken to address environmental issues. Understanding how individual actors rationalize and represent their goals can provide an alternative perspective and an entry point for engaging more constructively in deliberative processes. This bottom-up approach to understanding processes of deliberative governance, rooted in a discursive analysis, offers a novel approach to research on environmental governance. Power dynamics are recognized as a major contributing factor in the level of effectiveness in developing collaborative approaches (Behagel and Arts, 2014; Zeitoun and Allan, 2008). To address power imbalances, however, we must understand how individual actors are empowered or disempowered by processes of government engagement. The focus on farmers voices in this work also offers valuable insights into how farmers can help governments build greater adaptive capacity in the face of environmental crisis. 2.5 A Theoretical Introduction to Five Environmental Discourses John Dryzek identifies several “discourses of environmental problem solving,” including administrative rationalism, economic rationalism, and democratic pragmatism (2013, p. 73). Dryzek also discusses several other ‘green’ discourses in his work. The fourth discourse I have included here is ‘green environmentalism’ and is based on these other green discourses, as well as a literature review of environmental politics writers (Shiva, 1989; Naess, 1989; and others). This discourse was developed based on the observation that ‘green discourses’ shared a common ‘ecocentric’ orientation. Integrating Mehta’s approach to ideas, this section explains how each of these four discourses entails certain public philosophies, problem definitions, and policy solutions. This discussion, however, 71 focuses on the relationship between problem definition and policy solutions. Further, building on the work of Dryzek (and his understanding of ecological democracy), Elinor Ostrom, Murray Bookchin and others, and findings from discussions with farmers, a fifth discourse called community-centrism was developed. It is distinguished from other discourses by the way it conceptualizes human social relationships and ecology. Focusing on the level of problem definition as defined by Mehta, the elements embedded in each of the five discourses is explained below. Problems are defined primarily based on assumptions about relationships to nature. For example, under administrative rationalism, if we assume that nature is subordinate to human problem-solving, we might say that the problems should be solved through technological solutions. This analysis focuses on how problems are defined by each discourse and what types of policy solutions stem from these definitions. It is important to recognize that there is an overlap between the elements of these discourses. This approach provides a basic framework for understanding how problem definitions and policy solutions interact, including the disciplinary and productive effects of problem definitions. This analysis shows that ‘resistance’ most often occurs at the levels of problem definition and policy solutions (Stone, 1989). While there are numerous discourses of the environment, the five discourses described in what follows were based on their relevance to this case study. Administrative Rationalism Administrative rationalism is a discourse of environmental problem-solving that focuses on the role of government-delegated experts in responding to environmental problems (Dryzek, 2005). In terms of public philosophy, hierarchal social relations lie at the heart of 72 administrative rationalism. Ontologically, administrative rationalism assumes a view of the world in which nature is subordinate to human problem-solving. Nature is viewed as manageable and amenable to human interventions. Epistemologically, administrative rationalism assumes that we can shape environmental outcomes to our benefit through strong management grounded in scientific expertise. Nature is viewed as part of a hierarchal structure with human beings at the top. As John Dryzek explains, in addition to the conception of nature as hierarchal, there are two other kinds of hierarchy at work in this discourse: one that subordinates people to the state and one in which the experts and managers have dominant positions within the state’s hierarchy (2012, p. 89). Torgerson & Paehlke (2005) write: “The image of the administrative mind is one of an impartial reason exercising unquestionable authority for universal wellbeing; it is an image that projects an aura of certain knowledge and benign power.” Problems under administrative rationalism are solved through rapid modernization or progressive reforms under the guidance of those the state deems to be expert authorities. The discourse is also characterized by unwavering confidence in science and technology as a means to reorder the social and natural world. Further, it focuses on the over-arching goals and pre-eminence of the state. A productive effect of this discourse on solutions is the prioritization of large-scale infrastructure projects developed at a rapid pace. Administrative rationalism assumes that power is and should be hierarchically organized. The discourse has become institutionalized in a way that there are hierarchal structures, rules and resources that support it. These institutionalized structures have the disciplinary effect of narrowing the voices that are heard and limiting alternative development visions. Powerful special interests like corporate lobby groups can more 73 effectively interfere with decision-making because they have the resources and connections to reach decision-makers. Information is considered valuable when it is legitimized through these institutionalized structures. While there is strong potential for problem-solving under administrative rationalism, policy definitions and solutions are limited by hierarchal power structures. Power dynamics are hidden from view because there is an assumption that decisions are informed only by expert analysis and data, not interests. These dynamics can result in their own implementation deficit, such as when hidden power dynamics effectively hinder or subvert decisions (Dryzek, 2012, p. 93). Administrative rationalism can be identified by its focus on professional resource management bureaucracies, central agencies, regulatory policy instruments, expert advisory commissions and rationalist policy analysis techniques (Dryzek, 2013, pp. 7598). Further, there are transcripts that help identify administrative rationalism including science-based decision-making, expert management, risk-based analysis, technological innovation, and public interest (Dryzek, 2013). The first part of chapter three explores the ways in which administrative rationalism shaped development in the MDB over the 20 th century. These transcripts are explored in chapter 3, with particular attention to how these transcripts are reinforced, challenged, or subverted. Over the 20th century, administrative rationalism allowed for the development of some of the most advanced hydrological systems in the world. Still, centralized planning also led to the centralization of power. Further, power dynamics could be hidden from view by the appearance of rational expert analysis, which can effectively silence dissenting opinions. 74 Economic Rationalism Economic rationalism as a discourse prioritizes individualism in addressing environmental issues. This focus on individualism reflects an alternative public philosophy that prioritizes private over public responsibility. Economic rationalism relies on and reproduces the notion that decision-making should happen at the individual level (Dryzek, 2005). Ontologically, while administrative rationalism stresses the role of the government and its designated ‘expert,’ economic rationalism emphasizes the primacy of the individual. The tenets of economic rationalism became popularized during the 1970s oil crisis and the global recession that followed. Before the crisis, administrative rationalism was the predominant discourse; centralized bureaucratic planning, massive modernization projects under state leadership and reliance on experts were the order of the day. The oil crisis, followed by skyrocketing interest rates, led to a push for smaller governments, greater reliance on ‘free market’ economies, a stronger focus on property rights, and financialization. Each of these developments accelerated through the 1980s. The term economic rationalism, however, predated the oil crisis and became widely used in Australia during the Whitman administration in the early 1970s. By that time, there were already calls in Australia for free market reforms in agricultural and water markets. The term was used by a group within the Labor Party, including Whitman, who opposed tariffs and agricultural price support schemes and favoured market reforms like water trading. Epistemologically, the economic rationalists presented their policies as resting on unbiased facts that would serve the best interests of society. Opponents of the free-market approach were characterized as ‘un-rational,’ basing their decisions on belief or adherence to the status quo (Quiggin, 1997). Though economic rationalism was a distinctly Australian 75 term, it can also be related to events in England and America, where British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (1979–90) and US President Ronald Reagan (1981–89) led the drive for free market capitalism and conservative social policy (Stokes, 2014). Economic rationalism is based on the premise that individualism promotes competition and economic growth. Economic incentives can influence individual behaviours in targeted ways. Price-based incentives are generally seen as sufficient to change individual behaviours. In the case of environmental management, tensions exist between economic rationalism and administrative rationalism as the dominant political discourse. Economic rationalism posits that free markets should be the dominant method of decentralizing environmental planning and that markets are the most reliable mechanism for managing common pool resources. The privatization and marketization of public goods like air and water are part and parcel of this approach. Privatization and commodification are the ‘rational’ approach. Sometimes the role of the administrative state is undermined by the economic rationalist model as states are no longer in complete control of common pool resources. This view relates to the work of economist Fredrick Von Hayek, best known for his defence of free-market liberalism (Hayek, 1944). The view highlights individual economic responsibility as the primary way of defining and thus addressing problems. Within the environmental literature, Garrett Hardin’s work on the tragedy of the commons warns of the dangers of the open use of common pool resources (Hardin, 1968). Hardin’s work is frequently cited by those who wish to show that privatization is the only reliable form of effective environmental management (e.g., Adler, 2000; Anderson & Leal, 2001; Anderson & Libecap, 2014). Economic rationalists argue that free markets and the 76 protection of individual property rights are the only way to prevent the tragedies associated with state-centric environmental planning. Proponents argue that economic rationalism avoids the tragedy of the commons situation because private property is something that property owners are more likely to care for than public/common property (Hardin, 1968). The disciplinary effect of this discourse is to limit the range of policy solutions to marketoriented ones, which often means privatizing common pool resources. However, it is challenging to manage collective resources under private rights regimes because the level of interventions required often coincidently elevates the need for strong government (Robertson, 2007). Another limitation of economic rationalism is that it can undervalue the multifunctionality of ecosystems by focusing only on economic outcomes in the short term (Hollander, 2007), with less attention to other values, particularly social and environmental values. The productive effects of economic rationalism, contrary to arguments made by many liberal economists, are not always in the collective interest. While liberalization may sometimes lead to better stewardship of the land, many liberal economists ignore that an effect of privatization is that only the privileged few will be able to enjoy the use of that land. Further, the focus on individual land use fails to acknowledge that every individual land entitlement is part of a larger system, the functionality of which is contingent on the individual parts working together. For example, one person could optimize their water use by building a reservoir on their property. Still, every property downstream will in some way be impacted, either positively or negatively. In many cases, a policy focus on economic rationalism may allow for greater efficiencies. However, when governments operate within this discourse, unintended productive effects are not fully considered. 77 Economic rationalism can be identified by its use of several metaphors, transcripts and rhetorical devices, including, freedom, competition, risk management, market-based solutions, and efficiency (Dryzek, 2013). These transcripts will be explored in detail in chapter three, as well as the assumptions reinforced through economic rationalism discourse and its productive effects. Such an analysis allows us to see how this discourse hinders the capacity of water management policy to adapt to some of the challenges it faces. Democratic Pragmatism Democratic pragmatism as a discourse emphasizes democratic processes and interactive problem-solving among participants. In the western world, policy development is typically centralized, which means that decision-makers are often far removed from the ways that human-environmental interactions play out at the local level. Decentralized and participatory decision-making represents an alternative approach (Hyed & Brookes, 2009, 279). The epistemological assumption underlying the discourse is that knowledge comes from different citizen participants entailing a more ‘bottom-up’ approach to policy formation. There are numerous reasons why a more participatory approach is desirable. From an institutional perspective, for example, participation can be used as an instrument to attain a goal defined by someone external to the community involved. For social movements, participation is a goal as it is an empowering process that can also help define a community’s goals (Tufte & Mefalopulos, 2009). John Dewey, an American who advocated democratic pragmatism in the 1950s and 60s, believed that participation was the most fundamental aspect of democracy, not representation. This is an idea that underpins democratic pragmatism as a discourse. For 78 Dewey, democracy could only be accomplished through active communication between citizens, government officials and experts (Dewey, 1998). Similarly, the European critical theorist Habermas (1981) argues that government policies and legal instruments must allow for the personal autonomy of those subject to them. Legally enshrined rights can only offer citizens true freedom when those citizens have the capacity to exercise public autonomy. Ontologically, democratic pragmatism is fundamentally individualist, like economic rationalism. However, in this case, the focus is on the individual as a political actor who is part of a larger collective. Democratic pragmatism asserts that the rights that define individual freedom must also include the rights of political participation. As Habermas understands the relation between private and public autonomy, each conceptually presupposes the other in the sense that each can be fully realized only if the other is fully realized. The exercise of public autonomy in its full manifestation presupposes participants who understand themselves as individually free (privately autonomous), which in turn presupposes that they can shape their individual freedoms through the exercise of public autonomy (Habermas, 1991). Habermas summarizes this requirement in his democratic principle of legitimacy: “only those statutes may claim legitimacy that can meet with the assent of all citizens in a discursive process of legislation that in turn has been legally constituted” (Habermas, 1991, p. 110). Both Dewey and Habermas, therefore, argue that democracy is wholly dependent on the freedom of the individual to assert their influence in the public realm. Democracy, in any true sense, depends on individual participation – which allows people to experience personal autonomy first and foremost. In the tradition of Habermas and Dewey, environmental theorists argue that complex environmental issues can only be solved through deliberation and public 79 participation (Dryzek, 2005). Hajer, for instance, presents a new perspective – ‘ecological modernization’ – which stresses the opportunities of environmental policy for modernizing the economy and argues that this more collaborative approach of the 1990s and onwards replaced the antagonistic environmental debates of the 1970s (1997). Democratic pragmatists argue that environmental problems can only be resolved by integrating various perspectives of a wide range of individuals and groups. The discourse can thus be seen as a way of decentralizing and expanding the problem-solving community (Dryzek, 2013, p. 111). Problems are defined in a way that assumes they can be resolved within the system so long as there is enough active participation from the communities involved. The epistemology of the discourse, therefore, centres on the assumption that knowledge produced through consultative, participatory processes informed by myriad individuals of diverse positionalities (notably including scientists and other types of ‘experts’) is better than that which a few people produce or only reliant on the scientific method. Unlike administrative rationalism, the discourse of democratic pragmatism treats the government as a system of interacting processes in that citizens are entrenched (Dryzek, 2013, p. 114). Further, like administrative and economic rationalism, democratic pragmatism places nature as subordinate to human problem-solving efforts. Whether nature is seen as a commodity or a self-regulating system is of little consequence for democratic pragmatists who believe deliberation between individuals will solve conflicts in the system (Dryzek, 2013, p. 115). There are at least two significant problems associated with democratic pragmatism, both in theory and practice. First, democratic pragmatism treats participation as synonymous with having a role in decision-making, which is problematic because it 80 ignores other relations of power that may affect how decisions are made. Participatory models that try to incorporate local or experiential knowledge into the existing institutional structures often reproduce government officials’ views and enhance state power (Jennings, 2009, p. 244). This is because knowledge as a process of learning develops within cultural, political, and economic contexts. For local knowledge to be incorporated into decisionmaking, it must first meet the criteria set out by the state as to what constitutes valid knowledge. The devaluing of certain types of knowledge has disciplinary effects on the policy reform process. While proponents of democratic pragmatism seek to incorporate alternative views into decision-making, the experiences of local people are often watered down or dissected into parts to best fit the established narratives of the bureaucracy (Jennings, 2009, p. 244). Democratic pragmatism can thus be seen as limited by the other dominant discourses, particularly administrative rationalism. Second, in practice, democratic pragmatism is often not genuinely participatory because it ignores power dynamics among participants, overlooks how legitimate knowledge is constructed, and it discounts the ways that human beings are often at the mercy of processes in nature. In his work on deliberative governance, Dryzek explains that a system can be said to have deliberative capacity if it has structures to accommodate deliberation that are authentic, inclusive and consequential (2010). To be authentic, “deliberation ought to be able to induce reflection upon preferences in noncoercive fashion” (2010, p. 10). To be inclusive, “deliberation requires the opportunity and ability of all affected actors to participate” (2020, p. 10). Finally, to be consequential, “deliberation must somehow make a difference when it comes to determining or influencing collective outcomes” (2010, p. 10). On the other hand, because it is not 81 designed to be intentionally deliberative, democratic pragmatism often fails on one or more of these fronts. The discourse of democratic pragmatism is often associated with individualism, focusing on the role of individuals participating and being consulted. Democratic pragmatism is easily identified by specific transcripts, particularly among government agents. An emphasis on deliberations, consultations, committees, engagement strategies, education, and ‘reason' characterize the discourse (Dryzek, 2013). It is important to draw this discourse out as a unique category because there are distinct productive effects of democratic pragmatism. Green Environmentalism Several alternative approaches to environmental decision-making are discussed by Dryzek, including deep ecology, ecological modernization, eco-anarchism, green consciousness, eco-theology, bioregionalism, and social ecology. Dryzek does not present these as a single discursive category but referred to them as variations of green consciousness. In this work, a category labelled green environmentalism is constructed, which includes elements of many of the above perspectives.7 In the Western world, the distancing of people from nature has been seen as necessary for the proper functioning of society. Hobbes, for example, credits the institutions of government with delivering man from the ‘state of nature’ (Hyed and Brooks, 2009, p. 272). This view has profoundly shaped interactions with the natural world 7 Note that in this work social ecology is included as part of a separate category, communitycentrism, the fifth discourse relevant to the examination of this case. 82 in that governments, corporations, and institutions tend to see nature as separate from people. The effect of a discourse that prioritizes culture (that which people produce) over nature has tended to diminish our perceptions of the extent to which human activity has environmental consequences and the degree to which natural environments exert influence on human affairs (Hyed & Brookes, 2009, p. 272-73). While green environmentalism, with its biocentric character, is a healthy reaction to anthropocentrism, it is problematic in that it ignores the already well-entrenched and fragile ecological relationships between people and the environment that result from our historical legacy of interference in natural systems. In contrast to this dualistic and hierarchical view, in many ancient societies, nature is viewed as a sentient force constantly acting on human beings. In Indian cosmology, “all existence arises from the primordial energy, which is the substance of everything, pervading everything. The manifestation of this power, this energy, is called nature (Prakriti) (Shiva, 1989). These holistic views of nature are internalized within social discourse in meaningful ways. In contrast, Western societies tend to resist this kind of internalization as superstitious even when scientific evidence supports the assertion that human-produced injury to natural environments has detrimental consequences for people. Measures to address environmental problems in Western societies tend to focus on creating additions to existing policies but do not give much consideration to the wider system in which these policies are being implemented. In my characterization, green environmentalism applies romanticized assumptions about nature wherein humans are separate from and perceived as in conflict with natural processes. 83 Arne Naess, a Norwegian environmental philosopher who coined the term deep ecology, sees humans as in conflict with nature. He advocates for biocentrism (the belief that all forms of life are of equal value to human life) and argues that people need to identify with a larger self beyond that of the individual (which he termed “self-realization”) (Naess, 1989). Naess was reacting to the ecology movement at the time, which sought only to moderately reform the environmental practices of the industrial age to benefit human beings (Dryzek, 2013, p. 187). The ontological stance of green environmental discourse is thus premised on a representation of human beings as a threat to natural environments by virtue of their domination, which presents difficulties and limitations in terms of environmental policy. It privileges green activism and a wilderness perspective wherein we see nature needing protection from human beings. This has effectively drawn attention to the movement and the detrimental impacts of unfettered development. In the 1970s, for example, environmentalists in Australia focused much of their energy on the Great Barrier Reef, hoping to protect it from mining and oil drilling. Community-driven support for the protection of the reef garnered national attention, and the federal government established a Marine National Park and Management Authority in 1981. Similarly, a campaign against a dam that would flood the valley of Tasmania’s Franklin River mobilized tens of thousands of Australians in the late 1970s and early 1980s and helped solidify the base of Australia’s environmental movement. At the same time, the knowledge of local people trying to manage the land can be undervalued. This is because, epistemologically, the discourse – as developed in the modern West – generally puts faith in science over traditional or local forms of knowledge. 84 Green environmental discourse can be identified in a variety of common transcripts. include terms like wilderness, natural/ unnatural, protection, and environmental values. These transcripts will be explored in detail in chapter four. That chapter focuses on the dichotomy between natural vs. unnatural environments. I look at how wilderness and nature exclude environments with human production activities, how climate and weather are understood and represented in the green discourse, and why these transcripts are often problematic. Community-Centrism A fifth environmental problem-solving discourse, community-centrism, is introduced in chapter five. Community-centrism is inspired by the writings of critical environmental scholars like Bookchin, Ostrom, and Li and scholarship on community-based adaptation to climate change. This scholarship can help us understand the contours of an alternative environmental problem-solving discourse, which puts the needs and capacity of local communities front and centre in defining solutions to their challenges. Community-centrism is influenced by social ecology. Social ecology was introduced by the anarchist author and environmental philosopher Murray Bookchin. While it does not ignore the central importance of economics or environmental management, social ecology points to the overwhelming significance of human social relationships in determining both economic and environmental outcomes (Bookchin, 1994). Bookchin argues for an environmental politics that places human social interactions as central. He argues that the roots of ecological problems are closely tied to human social problems and can be solved by reorganizing society along more ethical lines (Bookchin, 85 1982). His approach acknowledges the co-dependent relationships between human societies and natural systems. Bookchin writes, “ecological degradation is, in large part, a product of the degradation of human beings by hunger, material insecurity, class rule, hierarchal domination, patriarchy, ethnic discrimination, and competition (Bookchin, 1994). Bookchin traces the roots of environmental problems to social problems and advanced his own brand of libertarian socialism. He proposes that empowering people at the local level and giving them the democratic tools to engage within their communities fully invariably results in positive economic and environmental outcomes. Since the destruction of ecological systems can be traced to social systems of domination, Bookchin asks us to replace these systems with participatory democracy at the level of communities. Essentially, by changing how we relate to one another, we change how we relate to our environment (Bookchin, 1982). Ontologically, community-centrism places the role of the community (or society) as central. Like Bookchin, Elinor Ostrom focuses on the role that human societies can have in positively impacting their environments. In environmental resource management, this is done through gaining knowledge of locally specific contexts and acting according to principles that meet the needs of local communities (Ostrom, 2012). While Bookchin advocates for a more radical approach to politics, Ostrom works within the confines of established frameworks for ecological management to define eight clear principles for managing common pool resources. Among the eight principles, she argues that the commons need to have clearly defined boundaries (particularly around who benefits), that rules should fit local circumstances, that participation is critical, and that the commons must have the right to organize (Ostrom, 2012). The principles of common property 86 resource management are widely accepted and used today. Ostrom has won global praise for her work, including the Nobel prize in Economics, the first awarded to a woman. Like Ostrom, Tania Murray Li argues for an approach that favours local decisionmaking where possible. She also makes the case that the relationship between local and expert knowledge can be reciprocal in such contexts (Li, 2007). While Li’s work is critical of the capitalist superstructure that tends to define the relationships between government experts and agrarian landholders, she sees many opportunities to transform that relationship within the existing system. While there are many differences between these thinkers in terms of the overall focus of their work, for Bookchin, Ostrom, and Li, some of the most effective solutions to environmental management are ones that arise out of policies that support collective accountability on the part of all actors and allow land managers like farmers to play a central role in the planning process. Epistemologically, community-centrism focuses on the role of local knowledge and knowledge exchange. Farmers have a rich tradition of sharing ecological knowledge to produce alternative policy prescriptions and outcomes (Berkes, 1999; Folke, 2002; Colding, 2002). They also employ a wide range of tools to respond to the demands of local ecological systems, including multiple species management, resource rotation, revegetation, and erosion control, to name a few. Farmers form social mechanisms for transferring this knowledge within their communities, which helps them to maintain traditional practices and learn from one another. Farmers are constantly responding to the ‘real time’ demands of their environment and are thus guided by experience and social networks of knowledge transfer more than other types of knowledge. In other words, policy solutions often reflect the significant role of social 87 networks at the heart of effective ecological management. Problems are defined in a way that highlights the role of community support and people's social networks as key components of managing ecological systems (Berkes, 2009). Transcripts include such terms as community-based solutions, bottom-up, local knowledge, and localism. Community-centrism can be characterized as a ‘discourse of resistance (Foucault, 1969).’ How this discourse looks in practice, in terms of how community members (esp. farmers) characterize their approach to addressing the problems of the MDB, is explored in chapter five. Table 3 builds on my theoretical framework and the preliminary introduction to the five discourses used in my research. It summarizes key problem definitions that relate to each discourse and how these definitions interact with policy instruments. It is important to acknowledge that problem definitions are not necessarily confined to just one discourse. Still, the table provides a conceptual framework for understanding the main differences in these approaches and their respective implications. Table 3- Discourses, Problem Definitions, Policy Instruments, Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices Discourses Problem Definitions -Science and technology should be primary tools for analysis -Focus on risk-based analysis and adaptation measures -Reliance on bureaucrats, scientists and engineers is central to decision making -Cost-effective measures a key priority Types of Policy Instruments Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices ADMINISTRATIVE RATIONALISM -Professional resource -Expert management management bureaucracies -Science-based -Central agencies -Public interest -Regulatory (command and -Risk-based analysis control) policy instruments -Technological innovation -Expert advisory commissions ECONOMIC RATIONALISM 88 - Economic growth and competition are inherent goods to be protected from unnecessary interventions -Individual property rights should be protected -Free market mechanisms can be relied on -Government interventions are undesirable -Democracy through participation -Communicative democracy and rationality central (Habermas) -Environmental problems are solved through participation (Dryzek, Hajer) -Nature needs to be protected against people/ farmers -Privilege wilderness over other environmental spaces -Mystification of nature and reverence for ecological systems outside human intervention -Humans should be considered separate from nature -Social problems are subordinate to ecological problems - Social challenges are the cause of environmental problems -Strong social relationships are essential for environmental management -Local knowledge helps solve problems -The relationship between local and expert knowledge should be reciprocal -Social, historical and geographical contexts considered key -Resilience through selfmanagement -Market-based instruments -Privatization -No government intervention -Marketization -Asset management -Commodification of water DEMOCRATIC PRAGMATISM -Consensus-building conferences -Opinion polls -Town hall meetings GREEN ENVIRONMENTALISM -Regulations to protect nature from people -Protected area management -Government interventions -Expert and government management COMMUNITY-CENTRISM -Locally based planning committees -Farmer-driven environmental initiatives -Community-oriented social welfare programs -Extension services that focus on local growing conditions -Community-based hubs of knowledge exchange 89 -Freedom -Competition -Risk Management -Market-based solutions -Efficiency -Citizen science -Deliberation -Consultation -Engagement strategies -Education -Reason -Protection -Wilderness -Natural / Unnatural -Environmental values -Community-based solution -Bottom-up -Community -Local knowledge -Localism This study explores how discourses shape policy solutions for dealing with the significant challenge of effective water management in the MDB. Only through an understanding of the ways that governments and farmers define the problems can we understand how policy solutions develop. Collectively, these five discourses offer a way of understanding the political dynamics in the MDB. The analytic framework connects the way problem definitions are constructed in discursive terms to the policy solutions employed in the MDB. Through this analysis, we can determine how discourses shape possibilities but also limit the capacity to develop policy responses. Further, reframing problem definitions may offer new ways of understanding and addressing water management problems. 2.6 Research Design This research examines how environmental discourses shape the parameters of acceptable policy choices in the MDB and with what effect. The dominant discourses around water management are identified, and the way that some discourses gain prominence over others is explored. The research asks what forms of knowledge these discourses tend to legitimize, how problems are framed within the discourses and how they have informed public policy over time. As explained above, discourse analysis helps answer these questions, but it is also at the heart of the methodological approach used herein. Discourse analysis goes beyond description and asks how social reality is constructed, while case study research produces detailed knowledge in the form of a narrative. Together they can uncover the complexities of a given problem. This section explains the rationale for the research design, particularly the decision to undertake a discursive analysis of water management in the MDB and to use the detailed 90 case study method. The document and data gathering process is then explained. Finally, the last section discusses how data was analyzed and some potential shortcomings of this research design. A Discursive Case Study My initial research questions focused on the value of incorporating local knowledge into policy making. I was concerned with what I identified as a ‘top-down’ approach on the part of governments to environmental crises. Further, I wished to understand how governments might better incorporate the local knowledge of farmers and what farmers might be able to contribute to effectively addressing crises. Farmers are constantly responding to the ‘realtime’ demands of their environment and are thus guided by experience and social networks of knowledge transfer. Community networks of farmers are a key component of how ecological systems are managed (Berkes, 2009). Ecological knowledge is formed and reproduced through the daily interactions that farmers have with their environments, and through the social networks that they have formed with each other over the course of multiple generations. As such, this knowledge is critical in terms of understanding how water is managed, and what farmers can contribute in terms of addressing problems. A single case study approach produces a kind of context-dependent knowledge that is necessary to allow people to develop a deeper understanding of an issue (Flyvbjerg, 2006). In the case of the MDB, an investigation of farmer knowledge can offer new pathways for understanding the problem of water management, and new solutions. In the context of learning about human affairs, knowledge is always context-dependent and therefore rules out the possibility of epistemic theoretical construction. A purely 91 descriptive and phenomenological case study offers insight into a given problem that other methods cannot achieve (Flyvbjerg, 2006, p. 221-227). Therefore, I looked to identify a case study that demonstrated the difficulties of incorporating farmer knowledge into policy development. In my search, I discovered that government responses to the Millennium drought in the MDB had led to protests by and condemnation from farmers in the region. An in-depth analysis of the MDB provided an ideal opportunity to explore the discourses and policy processes that gave rise to the situation, information that can be used to better understand similar case studies. As incidence of drought and flooding increase throughout the world, it is necessary to understand how policy responses may develop in different contexts and how they may fail or succeed. The research process involved four parts: document analysis; semi-structured interviews with farmers and government officials; other data collection; and data analysis (thick description/ interpretation). Document Analysis One of the first tasks was to define and describe the dominant policy discourse informing the management of water resources and to consider what this discourse meant for the MDB and farm communities. This task involved careful analysis of the specific policy instruments used to manage water in the Basin. The three most prevalent policy instruments identified were environmental buybacks, water trading (market-based instruments), and drought assistance (including adaptation and mitigation measures). A literature review of these policy instruments was undertaken to examine how they functioned in the MDB, and what some of their shortcomings were. Each of these instruments has significant 92 implications for farmers, but I hoped to understand how farmers informed the development and implementation of these instruments, if at all. Through this review, I also wanted to understand how farmer involvement was framed; were farmers included in the development of these instruments? How were farmers represented in this literature; were they regarded as part of the solution or part of the problem? Further, given the marketoriented approach of policies in the MDB, how were farmers valued within this system? This literature review was used to inform my interview questions and data analysis. Semi-structured Interviews In the interview stage of this research, I asked farmers and government officials questions meant to elicit a better understanding of how the three main policy instruments, described above, functioned in the Basin. I also asked farmer respondents questions that would help me better understand their views on the federal and state government’s management of the MDB. Further, I asked questions meant to elicit the ecological knowledge of farmers and how this knowledge has impacted their reactions to water management policies. I asked them what sources of information were important to them and where they gathered knowledge. These questions helped me understand whether the information they relied on was locally based ecological knowledge, knowledge collected from the scientific community, or both (See Appendix 1: research questions). I also explored how they see their role and ability to positively respond to the challenges presented to them; and what social norms or expectations influenced the respondent’s ability to act (Moser, 2009, p. 323). 93 Semi-structured interviews allowed interviewees to identify the issues that were important to them. This method of interviewing gave me the opportunity to identify how farmers and government officials framed the problems they identified and allowed me to identify issues that I had not identified in my previous analysis of the case study. From July to December 2016, I undertook thirty-four semi-structured in-person interviews with farmers and government officials: twenty-five with farmers, eight with government officials and one with a representative of an irrigators’ council. There are significant differences in the kinds of farms that operate in the MDB, with some using much more water than others and some operating on a much larger scale. The farms ranged in size from 2000 to 4000 acres. I did not limit the types of farmers in the project because I was interested in gathering a range of perspectives from different farming operations; however, most farmers in my sample grew rice. A wine producer and a plum producer were the exceptions. Most farmers had a diverse range of crops in rotation to manage soils appropriately, and several integrated sheep farming within their operations. I did not include any large cotton growers, a group identified as a major water user in the MDB, because most are located north of the region where I did my research. Further, many farmers began cotton farming after the drought as the international price of cotton increased dramatically from 2009 to 2011. The farm businesses in my sample were family-run operations. They did not include farm operators employed by corporations (other than companies owned by their own families to organize an inter-generational business). The majority of rice farms in the MDB are family-run operations with a long history of farming in the region. Farmer interviewee information is included in Appendix 2 and describes the makeup of the farms included in this study. 94 In my initial research design, I used these selection criteria for respondents: the subjects depend primarily on farming for their livelihoods, either be using irrigation (or have used irrigation in the past and have transitioned away from irrigation farming) and live and work in the area of the Murrumbidgee and Murray catchment area. Most of my respondents were in the region close to Narrandera, Leeton, Finley and Griffith. I also did a few interviews near Albury, south of Wagga Wagga near the Victoria border with New South Wales, and one farmer interview in Victoria. The first farmer subject was introduced to me through a friend I had met on a guided tour of historically significant Wiradjuri Indigenous sites around Wagga Wagga. The rest of the farmer interviewees were identified using snowball sampling. Snowball sampling led to many repeated referrals, and it became clear that the farming community was relatively small and tightly knit despite the vast distances between the farms (I drove more than 20,000 kilometres in less than five months). Because of this, I concluded that I reached an acceptable saturation level in the variety of responses I could expect from farmers. A possible shortcoming was that many referrals were to the most vocal and politically active farmers, but this was not always the case. Farmer respondents were eager to speak with me; only one farmer could not accept my interview request due to a crisis on his farm. This eagerness resulted in interviews that sometimes lasted several hours and provided me with a wealth of information to work with. In some cases, follow-up interviews were done by telephone in 2017 to confirm the details of certain aspects of the interviews. I was also able to attend local meetings and community gatherings to meet with research participants. I attended the Rice Growers general membership meeting in Leeton on August 18, 2016, and I attended a meeting/ briefing in Griffith with the MDBA on October 6, 2016. 95 Throughout the study, I also undertook semi-structured in-person interviews with government officials. I interviewed respondents from the MDBA and The National Water Commission. I interviewed eight officials located in Canberra using open-ended questions, asking them to explain the rationale for programs related to the management of the MDB, to discuss the effectiveness of those programs, to offer their analyses regarding how those programs and policies may be affecting farmers, and find out how farmers have been included in the policy-making processes that have taken place. To understand the types of considerations that inform the discussions among government officials, I also inquired about the information and knowledge they relied on. For example, I asked about the environmental and social information used in formulating and framing problems, what resources were available to assess the impacts of the measures that have been implemented, what actions were taken to enhance the collective knowledge of problems that are identified (surveys of local knowledge and scientific assessments), and how primary data was used in the decision-making process (Moser, 2009, p. 325). Government interviewees were identified through my research of the MDB and conversations with farmers. This gave me a diverse sample to identify trends, common concerns and experiences. However, I did not conduct as many government interviews as I hoped. While the initial response to my research was positive, it became increasingly difficult to get government representatives to agree to an interview. Further, many government officials relied heavily on talking points which did not provide a valuable contribution to my research. Nonetheless, some government officials provided critical insights which contributed to the overall strength of this project. 96 Appendix 1 includes a list of the interview questions I asked farmers and government officials. All but one research participant (a government official) agreed to be identified in this work. All interviews were transcribed in full (verbatim). Transcription was a time-consuming process, but it allowed me to review and consider the material in its entirety. Respondents were also given an opportunity to review the entire transcripts, but only two chose to do so. One farmer sent extensive comments and some revisions. The other farmer spoke to me directly to clarify certain points and provide additional information. Other Data Collection Primary documents were gathered from scientists, farmers and academics who have worked in the MDB. One researcher, Kathleen Bowmer, who had a long history of working on water issues in the MDB, provided access to all the documentation she had saved from meetings with government representatives, farmers, and other actors. These records documented the water management consultations and a history of the decision-making processes. Archives of local newspapers in the region (The Irrigator Leeton, The Riverina, The Daily Advertiser Wagga Wagga, Area News Griffith) from the period directly proceeding and during the drought were also reviewed. In addition, local government official archives in Wagga Wagga were accessed, and a wealth of government documents, newspaper articles and meeting records were available to me. Reviewing this wealth of documentation, discourses common to the interviews and the primary documents were identified. 97 Data Analysis With a wealth of primary documents, and detailed transcripts from my interviews, I endeavored to identify the discourses that were common in the Basin. The approaches to environmental management issues in the MDB were well aligned with some of the key environmental discourses that Dryzek are introduced in his 2013 book, Discourses of the Environment. Dryzek draws on an extensive body of evidence to develop his variations of environmental discourse. My analysis began with an empirical application of these discourses. I used a selection of Dryzek’s discursive categories that seemed particularly relevant to revealing the story of policy change over time in the MDB. In particular, the discourses of economic and administrative rationalism appeared to be dominant among both farmers and government officials. When I began working with my interview data, I continued to identify the dominant discursive categories, adding more specificity to them in relation to this case while also thinking through the relationships between them in this context. I quickly recognized patterns in the farmer and government interviews and developed a model for categorizing responses based on the five central discourses. The discourses were identified as I transcribed and reviewed the interview data. I first flagged reoccurring themes and concepts, like allocations, acquisitions, impacts of policy, on-farm system types, ecological knowledge types, and science-based initiatives. Even though I began with these, I quickly realized certain recurring themes were also consistent with Dryzek’s (2013) environmental problem-solving discourses. This led me to further explore Dryzek’s discourses in secondary literature relevant to my case and then traced them in my data, including interview transcripts and primary documents, to help me understand (and 98 relate) these dynamics over time. Some transcripts in my data did not conform to the dominant discourses of administrative rationalism, economic rationalism, and democratic pragmatism, nor to what I categorized as the dominant ‘green’ discourse. I grouped these ideas and practices into a new category labeled ‘social ecology’ discourse because of their attention to the role that people play in managing and sustaining natural environments. I then began investigating the literature on social ecology and political ecology, which led to my fifth environmental discourse of community-centrism. In the next step of reviewing my study data, I analyzed interviews and primary documents based on the five main discursive categories. The first four discursive categories were initially developed based on Dryzek’s environmental discourses but working with data from this case study, these discursive categories were refined and adapted for my study. The fifth category, community-centrism, is based on findings from my interviews, and the literature on local knowledge exchange and social ecology. The research itself was reflexive, as it involved an iterative process of reviewing and revisiting categories throughout the research project (Phillips & Hardy, 2002, p. 10). Discourse analysis is an interpretive and reflexive research technique (Phillips and Harding, 2002, p. 5). As Phillips and Hardy (2002, p. 75) note, the strength of discourse analysis is often in its “contextual and interpretive sensitivities,” which set it apart from more traditional methods. In critical discourse analysis, validity and reliability are understood differently because researchers trace multiple meanings to understand their implications, which is a largely subjective process. This discursive analysis of water politics in the MDB is the result of a years-long iterative process of refining my theoretical approach, which began with Dryzek’s 99 discursive categories of the environment, and was refined as I incorporated findings from my case. I identified five discourse categories early in the early stages of my data analysis, then further developed and refined them over time with the data I collected. Although this is an unconventional approach, particularly in political science, it allowed me to incorporate categories and details of discourses that participants constructed themselves, including the knowledge and ideas they contributed, as well as how they challenged those of the government. This approach also reflects a ‘bottom-up’ approach wherein we can examine how actors construct and challenge discourses from below. This discursive interpretation of my primary data is explored in chapters three to five. 2.7 Reflections During my five months of research in Australia, I drove over 20,000 kilometres. The distance between farms made it nearly impossible to do more than one interview per day. My trips began at dawn, so I could arrive at my destination before nine in the morning and complete the interview before noon. This was so that farmers did not feel that they were committing too much of their day to the interview. Then I would have to drive an average of two to three hours to sleep at my house in Wagga Wagga or a hostel in one of the surrounding towns, often Griffith. Driving after dark was impossible as there were animals on the road, and a breakdown in the country could be dangerous. Country life in Australia is undoubtedly a solitary existence, where your closest neighbour can be as far as a thirtyminute drive away. 100 The fear of being mudded (getting your car stuck in the mud) is real, and one time I had this unfortunate experience. With no cell phone reception or means of getting help, I was at the mercy of whichever stranger turned up. After 30 minutes, some men with a truck were able to pull my car out of the mud. Being the wettest year in recorded history, I was often faced with the real fear of being pushed off the road. Road conditions could turn a three-hour drive into a five-hour drive. Further, in some cases, cars drove through almost a meter of water. I followed, holding my breath, and praying, as I drove quickly through the water, hoping not to be washed away into a nearby field. There are some things a researcher can never predict or prepare for. For me, one of the scariest experiences was running out of water, and not for drinking, but for filling up my windshield wiper container. At one point, the bugs were so bad that I lost visibility and was unable to wash the bugs away. Another time, I came close to running out of gasoline in the night. Even in a developed country like Australia, researchers face numerous hazards they cannot predict. Further, there can be a strong sense of isolation and even fear, fear I felt acutely when forced to sleep in my car one night. Nonetheless, farmers were hospitable and kind and were grateful that someone had made such an effort to talk to them on their farms in an environment they were comfortable in. Visiting people in the spaces, they are familiar with and taking the time to meet with them individually is essential for generating trust and creating an environment where people can speak freely about their experiences and opinions. I felt there was a strong sense of respect from farmers. They appreciated that I made an effort to see them in such remote areas, and they also appreciated that I had the proper footwear to get in the tractor or truck with them and continue the interview in the 101 field. They were also impressed that I had been in the country enough to learn to enjoy drinking my coffee black. For most respondents, this was the first time anyone had visited their farm to interview them, and they were happy to spend time with me and to tell their stories. They did, however, often say that they hoped that the research would one day be used by governments. Some farmers said they expected that my research would end up on the desk of MDBA officials. In many ways, there is an emotional aspect to this type of research because the researcher becomes invested in the outcome. One farmer, for example, lost their home and much of their land in flooding events along the river shortly after my interview. As an outsider, it is difficult to comprehend how difficult the situation can be for farmers. When people talked about bankruptcy, divorce, drug addiction and even suicide in their communities in the wake of the drought, I could sense the despair. These experiences led me to want to contribute a research project sensitive to the human costs of drought and government policy. For almost a year after the research, while I transcribed the interviews and worked in my teaching jobs, I felt a strong sense of despair and hopelessness about my potential contribution. I experienced the fear that comes from understanding that a researcher’s words and choices can genuinely impact the communities they undertake research in. As a researcher, I have tried to remain as objective as possible despite these considerations. The close relationships I developed with farmers meant that I heard strong and detailed arguments from them, which invariably impacted my understanding of the situation. These relationships meant that I was committed to this group’s well-being. This has resulted in a dissertation which speaks more to the farmers' side of the story than other 102 points of view. In hopes of presenting both sides of the issue, however, I have seriously considered the perspectives of the experts and policy analysts. In doing so, I hope that the policymakers, particularly those at the MDB, will consider this account of events as a unique and critical perspective based on the observations of someone largely outside the problem. Even though researchers are expected to remain objective, I do not believe this is possible when you work closely with a population. Researchers are not unsympathetic observers; I had become emotionally invested in the outcome and hoped my research would make a difference. Conclusion The case of water management in the MDB can be seen as an example of what Flyvbjerg (2006) calls an extreme or ‘critical’ case, given that the drought conditions in the region are severe, that the government’s response has been extensive and on-farm adaptation measures have been substantial. This research highlights how dominant discourses define policy choices and how farmers seek to redefine the policy debate. The chance to talk with farmers in their own space and under their terms gave them a sense of comfort and allowed them to express themselves freely. Even though there were numerous challenges to conducting these in-depth interviews in rural Australia, I believe this kind of research is indispensable in developing a rich and detailed understanding of the challenges faced in situations like the MDB. The discursive categories developed in this research emerged iteratively, starting with a framework found in Dryzek (2013) and adding to it as I analyzed the data. In this sense, my analytic process was both ‘top-down’ (working with pre-existing discourse categories to understand the data) and ‘bottom-up’ (building new categories as needed). 103 The latter was especially useful for identifying the new discourse category I developed through this research. Community-centrism suggests that a bottom-up approach to policy formation may greatly enhance outcomes from formation to implementation. Both green environmentalism and community-centrism critique the current environmental movement and an alternative approach to environmentalism, respectively. While these categories were developed based on well-established research, I think they provide a concise and productive way of understanding the problems and working toward solutions. 104 Chapter 3- Administrative Rationalism, Economic Rationalism and Democratic Pragmatism This chapter tells the story of MDB management from the beginning of the twentieth century to the end of the Millennium Drought in 2007. The story of the MDB is one in which an administrative rationalist approach dominates. Administrative rationalism has the goal of rapid modernization under what are considered the expert authorities of the state. The ontological and epistemological assumptions of administrative rationalism and its problem-solving approach, including top-down and expert-led control and decisionmaking, continue through each shift. This continuity in approach is important to recognize because administrative rationalism has some fundamental limitations, manifest as disciplinary and productive effects of the discourse itself. Viewing MDB management through the discourse of administrative rationalism helps us begin to explain the government’s largely top-down approach to environmental water management and its productive effects. Over time and corresponding with changes in management regimes associated with neoliberalism more broadly, some of the assumptions of what Dryzek terms economic rationalism came to figure in problem definition and policy instruments enacted in the MDB. However, there was not a wholesale adoption of a new problem-solving discourse by the state and other MDB actors, as Dyrzek suggests economic rationalism can do in different contexts. Instead, in the MDB, the adoption of market-based instruments occurred within the administrative rationalist frame. Economic reforms were still led by the government, and government regulations heavily influenced water trading. Perhaps most telling is that the federal government became the largest buyer and seller of water in the 105 MDB in the wake of their reforms, further centralizing government control over water. As a result, some of administrative rationalism's underlying limitations or weaknesses were simply compounded and exacerbated by the addition of these ‘market-based’ tools. MDB management also had some space for democratic engagement in the form of consultations, but these were always minimal and inconsequential. The problem-solving discourse of democratic pragmatism appears to have informed the inclusion of tools and practices that engaged citizens. However, in the context of the MDB, the adoption of democratic engagement generally consisted of consultations performed in a largely topdown fashion. The evidence shows that consultations did not significantly impact decisionmaking and were a far cry from more consequential and deliberative forms of democratic engagement with farmers. In sum, this chapter shows that while ‘environmental’ concerns of various types did rise to the fore over time, they were dealt with through assumptions related to administrative rationalism. We can see a nod to economic rationalism as demonstrated by the prioritization of individualism over community outcomes and a nod to democratic pragmatism as displayed through the limited mechanisms for democratic influence by key stakeholders. This constellation of discursive factors was critical in creating a misalignment between what the MDB management plan under the Commonwealth Water Act of 2007 set out to do and the environmental results for the river basin and for the human and non-human communities that inhabit it. These discourses (and their disciplinary/productive effects) and practices (e.g., consultations, town hall meetings, stakeholder input requests, etc.) then met with the worst drought in Australia’s modern history to inform the creation of a new management plan for the MDB. 106 The first section of this chapter (3.1) shows how administrative rationalism came to characterize water management in the Basin. The section examines the productive and disciplinary effects of this overarching discourse. The second section (3.2) explains the emergence of economic rationalism as a complementary and competing discourse to administrative rationalism. The section examines the productive and disciplinary effects of the discourse, exemplified through the emphasis on market-based policy instruments. Finally, the last section (3.3) looks at the role of democratic pragmatism in shaping the consultation process in the MDB. This discourse acts alongside administrative and economic rationalism to encompass the major discursive orientations that have shaped the MDB's policy development and implementation process. 3.1 Making sense of MDB management through the discourse of Administrative Rationalism The issues which the MDB management structures had to contend with shifted over time (from an increasing focus on water volumes over salinity issues), as did the management structures themselves (from state to more central federal government control) (Connell, 2007). The basic approach to addressing these issues, however, remained largely top-down. This approach can be understood through the values and assumptions of administrative rationalism, particularly in that problems in nature are considered subordinate to human problem-solving. Nature is viewed as ‘manageable’ and amenable to human interventions. In its epistemological assumptions, administrative rationalism relies on scientific and technical expertise. This section first details key productive effects of administrative rationalism in MDB management, including the focus on the ‘water over-allocation’ 107 problem, a reduced ‘cap’ on water allocation undertaken from the top down, and the invocation of market-based instruments. Second, it introduces some of the unintended productive effects of administrative rationalism, specifically a focus on water scarcity and efficiency under federal government oversight. Finally, it discusses four examples of specific disciplinary effects of administrative rationalism in the context of the MDB. Over the late 20th century, many new issues like salinity and recreational water rights came to inform Basin planning, culminating in the problem of ‘over-allocation.’ The clearing of native vegetation, as well as drainage for irrigation, contributed to salinity problems. Further, inadequate water flows related to overallocation prevented excess salt from being flushed down the river (Government of South Australia Department for Environment and Water, 2016). From 1972 to 1982, negotiations between the states and federal governments were undertaken to include issues surrounding water in the Murray, and salinity became an important way of defining water quality problems. In 1982 an agreement called the River Murray Waters Bill was reached, and in 1985 the MurrayDarling Basin Ministerial Council (MDBMC) and the Murray-Darling Basin Commission (MDBC) were established (later replaced by the MDBA). The new Commission established a water management plan among four signatory states (NSW, Victoria, South Australia, and Queensland) and the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001, p. 302). All members agreed upon the resolutions of the MDBMC unanimously, and the Council was required to appoint a community advisory committee and other committees as it saw fit (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001, p. 303). A salinity and drainage strategy was also introduced in 1988, which included a plan for cooperation by the participating governments (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001, p. 305). While the MDBMC 108 encouraged participation among the states, authority became increasingly centralized under the direction of the federal government. The notion of water ‘over-allocation’ emerged within this context as an important problem definition. From 1988 to 1993, water diversions for farming increased by more than one percent yearly, resulting in a cumulative increase of eight percent. Further, diversions were only 63% of the total allowed under the allocation system, which meant severe water shortages would result if all allocations were to be used. In 1993, a working group was formed to examine the scope of further water diversions and their potential impact (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001, pp. 307-308). This was the first instance that the term ‘over-allocation’ was used to define the cause of water scarcity in the Basin. The 1993 report represented a turn on the part of the government from being a driver of water usage and ‘productivity’ toward the role of the government as the central figure in imposing water reform and a conservationist approach. Framing the problem of water scarcity as one of ‘over-allocation’ has meant that the government has become increasingly focused on reducing water use for productive purposes. The 1990s also saw an increased focus on using scientific data to determine acceptable diversion limits and implement a ‘cap.’ As a result of the discussions and work undertaken by subcommittees in the previous year, in 1994, a report was prepared by the MDBC entitled Limits to Surface Water Diversion in the Murray-Darling Basin. This report was based on gathered evidence, including entitlements, allocations, and water use data from the states. The report found that the system only limited water diversions during droughts. During non-drought periods practices tended to encourage greater diversions. The MDBC found that the licensing and allocation system needed revisions in order to 109 decrease diversions over time (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001, pp. 307-308). At its 20th meeting in 1996, the Council introduced a cap on diversions for NSW, Victoria, and South Australia. NSW and Victoria agreed to cap their diversions at 1993-94 levels of development, while South Australia agreed to a cap at a slightly higher level (Chenoweth & Malano, 2001, p. 309). The decision to impose the cap was justified with reference to scientific evidence presented by the Commission, working groups, and sub-committees (Murray-Darling Basin Authority Ministerial Council, 1996). At the time, there was a general agreement among the states (as well as farmers and government experts) that a cap was needed to prevent further diversions. Many of the farmers I spoke with remembered this period as one of intense negotiations culminating in a generally accepted response to drought. However, the decision to impose the cap became contentious soon after the MDBA proposed further water reforms. So, while there was a collaborative effort to negotiate the cap, what followed was a series of top-down decisions by the federal government. Despite the cap, diversions again came to the top of the political agenda as the Millennium Drought intensified. Several wetlands, for example, gained attention internationally and were listed under RAMSAR as protected sites, including the Riverland’s floodplain in the lower Murray. These sites were seen as rare examples of unique ecosystems, providing habitats to protected species and having cultural and spiritual significance for Indigenous peoples (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2021b). As such, the policy solution of another ‘cap’ became more attractive to policymakers. However, the long process of consulting and implementing the previous cap had made many farmers hostile to further water reforms. They had hoped the earlier cap would represent the end of 110 a long process of negotiations and the beginning of a more stable period. Several farmer interviewees told me that they were still struggling with the impact of the reforms initiated in the 1990s, so an even more comprehensive water reform program was viewed with unease. This unease was exacerbated by the role of the MDBA, which sought to centralize the administration of reforms (Responsibility for older reforms was borne by all the states and simply overseen by the federal government). Many farmers viewed this as a turn towards top-down policy processes. Ultimately, the centralization of reforms was undertaken through the Federal Water Act of 2007, administered under the authority of the MDBA. The act includes three central tenets: first, to divert water through administrative and legislative changes; second, to create public investment in water irrigation infrastructure meant to generate water savings; third, to use government funds to buy back water to address over-allocation (Crase et al., 2012).8 ‘Water buybacks,’ though represented as a last resort, gained much attention after the two other approaches largely failed to provide results (Crase et al., 2012). According to the plan, several measures were to be implemented, including the recovery of an average of 2,750 GL per year from consumptive use toward environmental flows, mainly through buybacks. The plan involved a multi-billion dollar investment in irrigational infrastructure modernization and the purchase of water entitlements (Swirepik et al., 2015). 8 The political costs of meeting the SDL through administrative and legislative changes would prove to be too costly so very little actions of this kind were taken. As will be discussed in the next section on economic rationalism, legislative enforcement without a distinct monetary mechanism for reallocating water would not have been well received by the farming community. The second measure, improving infrastructure through public funding, also proved to be largely ineffective. This is because infrastructure is subject to diminishing returns and the water yields from such initiatives are quite modest (Crase et al., 2021). 111 It is important to note, however, that this plan may have been too ambitious as the states did not have the capacity to carry it through. For example, determining the ‘optimal amounts’ of water diversions for environmental purposes is an imperfect science. Calculating ‘optimal’ water diversions involves balancing the trade‐offs between the net benefits of allocating water for irrigated agriculture and other purposes versus the costs of reduced surface flows for the environment. According to Grafton et al. (2011), water planners do not have the tools to allocate water optimally among competing uses. Other scholars and critics argue that it is impossible to calculate with any certainty the water requirements of all the ecosystems within the Basin (Swirepik et al., 2015). These factors made it difficult for farmers and irrigators to accept the new plan, particularly when it effectively undermined their livelihoods. Further, farmers were still coping with the adjustments made after the cap was introduced. Farmers saw the ecological problems in the Basin as being related to numerous issues and were concerned about the government’s primary focus on flows. They also resented that they had spent years negotiating the cap, only to have more water taken out of the system before the effects of the cap could be adequately measured. Farmers wanted to see comprehensive evidence that the government’s more centralized approach would bring results, particularly where their livelihoods were undermined by the SDL’s. This combination of an unwieldy and overambitious plan, and the criticism it received from farmers, led to a severe crisis in confidence in the government. One way to understand the implementation of MBIs is that they were a consequence of the discourse of administrative rationalism. While market-oriented – and thus arguably also tools of economic rationalism (an argument explored below) – the effect of MBIs in 112 practice were often to reinforce the central role of government by requiring increased government intervention. The new policy solutions presented opportunities to manage water better, but many issues appear to have been overlooked. Two impacts of implementing MBIs demonstrate the unintended productive effects of the reform process: MBIs tended to favour large irrigators, and they placed emphasis on scarcity and efficiency. In particular, powerful large-scale cotton growers influenced state agencies to retain high levels of water diversions. For example, in 2017, media reports suggested that opportunistic cotton growers in the Barwon–Darling catchment in northern NSW, in the northern MDB, were misappropriating vast amounts of water needed for downstream users and environmental protection (Downey & Clune, 2020). State agencies failed to close loopholes or legally enforce regulations meant to curb water waste and were not subject to any independent enforcement mechanism (Pittock & Connell, 2010, p. 572). Russell James of the MDBA corroborates this interpretation. He explained how large-scale operations, bolstered by state-led agencies, came in and tended to set up the infrastructure themselves. He noted that… “by and large, they’re big operations, a little bit of a, dare I say, a cowboy, sort of a little bit like a western what we call it…the Wild West” (R. James, personal communication, 2016). Despite high water use levels, large operators had managed to avoid the regulatory reforms smaller family-run operations faced. This type of regulatory capture is not uncommon in administrative rationalism. While some government officials may favour smaller-scale farms, as they tended to do more to support local businesses and secondary industries, their agencies still tended to comply with the demands of larger irrigators. 113 The unintended productive effects of MBIs were an emphasis on water scarcity and a drive toward closer government oversight. This led to increased regulations. Irrigation farmers with permanent plantings took precedence, and their water rights were generally guaranteed. Farmers who owned a water allocation would be provided with a percentage of their water entitlement based on availability. Farmers who did not have an allocation could not buy water during the period due to the extreme cost. The most significant action on the part of the government was the National Water Initiative (NWI) which was introduced in 2004, four years into the Millennium Drought. It allocated some A$ 13 billion to deal with ‘water scarcity’ issues (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2018). A major portion of those funds was allocated toward programs meant to increase what came to be referred to as water use ‘efficiency.’9 The NWI was so significant because, in the past, state governments had largely shared power and made rules based on intensive negotiations among the states. Instead of a shared management regime, the NWI solidified the federal government's central role through its sizeable monetary investment. The government began to take a more prominent role in managing water resources as it invested more money into these efficiency projects. The NWI included many new regulations meant to enhance water savings from an ecological and economic perspective. However, the centralization of planning made it more difficult for farmers to access the planning process. Seen through this lens, the changes found in the NWI represented a move toward a more top-down approach. Within the context of administrative rationalism, this change represented a further entrenchment of high-level government planning. 9 Each of these terms, and their discursive significance for defining problems and policy solutions, will be revisited in section 3.2 on economic rationalism. 114 High-level management was further reinforced by the appointment of a new body called the Murray-Darling Basin Authority (MDBA) under the Federal Water Act of 2007. The new body was to manage the Basin and report to the Minister for Water. The Act also included an obligation to develop a Basin-wide plan to focus on improving the health of the river and establishing a maximum water diversion level known as the ‘sustainable diversions limit’ (SDL). This meant that a federal government-appointed body would thereafter determine the levels of diversions. Section 10 of the Act sets out the basis for Commonwealth management, citing the physical interconnectedness of water resources, the national significance of water in the Basin as a resource, the scarcity and further depletion of the resource, the environmental value, and the potential detrimental economic and social impacts on the wellbeing of the communities in the Murray-Darling Basin (Commonwealth of Australia, 2007). As the federal government began to intervene in the decisions of states more directly (water management had always been under the constitutional purvey of the states), the governance discourse shifted toward ‘sustainable diversion limits’ (SDLs) and ‘environmental water.’10 SDLs are the “maximum amount of surface and groundwater that can be taken from the Basin for agricultural and human consumptive use” (Australian Government Department of Agriculture, Water and the Environment, 2019a). The Murray–Darling Basin Authority (MDBA) estimated that the 10 The federal government now controls a majority of the water in the dam. However, water diversions are administered by numerous levels of government and other bureaucratic entities. Helon Dalton told me that for every farming business in the basin there is at least one bureaucrat managing water (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Just in the southern connected system, Dalton calculated that there are seventeen different bureaucracies including the Commonwealth, the states, Snowy Hydro, National Water Commission, Water NSW, Murrumbidgee irrigation, Colleambly irrigation, Office of Environment and Heritage, the Department of Forestry, the department of Meteorology and many more (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). 115 environmentally sustainable level of take is 10,873 gigalitres per year (GL/y), averaged over the long term (CSIRO, 2020). Water beyond the SDL, allocated and managed specifically to improve the health of rivers, wetlands, and floodplains, is known as ‘environmental water.’ These terms created a clear distinction regarding the classifications of ‘environmental’ and ‘productive’ water. I will come back to these terms in Chapter 4. As we saw in chapter one, the history of the MDB was characterized by state-led intervention from early in the twentieth century to the present day. When times were good, no one complained about the massive infusion of state money into irrigation agriculture. The irrigation company that was owned and operated by the state set the parameters for water usage. However, as the consequences of ‘overallocation’ gained more attention, federal and state governments tried to limit their role in enforcing regulations. This approach placed the burdens of the system on the irrigators. Governments were enthusiastic about intervening in terms of conserving the environment as they considered this within their realm of accountability. However, in terms of the economic and social costs of a system in collapse, shouldering the burden of those costs was largely considered outside the government’s mandate. While I have discussed the productive effects of administrative rationalism in the MDB, there were also several disciplinary effects. Four specific examples illustrate these effects. The first was that governments tended to focus on the volume of water in the system rather than its quality. This focus sometimes led to adverse ‘blackwater’ events and other consequences. Second, governments focused on protecting certain sites by increasing the volume of water but failed to acknowledge some of the barriers to getting water to those sites. Third, while the government focused on getting water to certain areas, they often did 116 not consider the dramatic effects of flooding en route to the designated sites, sometimes with catastrophic results for affected farms. Finally, the focus on delivering ‘environmental water’ through the system caused governments to underestimate how some irrigation users were abusing the system, as in Broken Hill. The focus on delivering sufficient flows gave people false confidence in the government’s ability to deliver results, a confidence which was shattered by events at Broken Hill. The government’s focus on water flows over water quality was deeply concerning for many farmers I spoke with. The government’s focus on an artificial target that can be sold to the public and which is achievable through the government represents a narrow framing of the issue imposed by the administrative rationalist discourse. Other potential actions like improving water quality through revegetation were effectively ‘disciplined’ out of consideration. Some farmers said the government’s preoccupation with modelled flow targets for water as the solution to the system's health was not scientifically justified. As cases of blackwater events revealed, reaching flow targets without addressing broader ecological needs and the consequences of increased flow rates can have devastating consequences. As such, black water events appear to be a consequence of a predominantly top-down approach to the management of the Basin. Blackwater events will be discussed in detail in Chapter 4 on green environmentalism. The second disciplinary effect of administrative rationalism was that governments focused on protecting certain sites by increasing the volume of water but failed to acknowledge some of the barriers to getting water to those sites. The government’s decision to relax ‘constraints’ along the river system caused significant third-party impacts to farmers operating in proximity to the river. I believe that the failure to acknowledge 117 barriers was partly attributable to the disciplinary effects of technocratic reasoning. Government officials thought what they were doing was ‘right’ based on expert advice, compared to the lay knowledge and personal experiences of local communities. An impact of the problem definition is thus that third-party impacts are downplayed by simply being referred to as ‘constraints.’ The NSW Irrigators Council’s chief executive officer, Andrew Gregson, said the government has failed to recognize third-party impacts… What they call constraints, we call roads, bridges, towns, farms, and houses. This isn’t simply a problem that can be solved by throwing money at it. It’s absurd to be increasing the volume of water that you’re seeking to acquire without a plan to use it or know the implications of trying to deliver it… a failure to address that will likely see the entire basin plan fail. (Rural News, 2012) A third example of a disciplinary effect is that while the government focused on getting water to certain areas, they often overlooked the impacts of flooding en route to the designated sites. In 2016, the New South Wales water office sent water down the river from the Burrinjuck dam during a significant rain event, wiping out numerous farms. These events led to calls from the communities to conduct an urgent review of water regulations, revealing that more than 30,000 megaliters were released to boost river health amid one of the most significant rainfalls in years (“Tempers increase as dam drops,” 2016). President of the rice growers’ association, Jeremy Morton, described these actions by the government as uncoordinated and non-transparent. Morton commented… …following good rains, irrigators have seen massive amounts of water released from storages and wondering why it has been happening. We’ve heard the explanation from Water NSW that translucent flows are required under the water- 118 sharing plans (WSP), and we understand natural flows need to be replicated to some degree. You have to question the system though... At any given time, we don’t know the breakdown of water leaving the dam- who owns it, and what its intended use is. This information isn’t reported in a single place that irrigators can go to find out whose water is flowing down the river. (“Tempers increase as dam drops,” 2016) The fourth disciplinary effect I identified was that the focus on delivering ‘environmental water’ through the system caused governments to sometimes overlook how some irrigation users were abusing the system, as in Broken Hill in 2017. At that time, this community, led by the town’s mayor, demanded an immediate inquiry into the operation of the MDBA. Anger erupted after revelations by the Australia Broadcasting Corporation’s Four Corners television program that the government had sold billions of litres of water set aside for the environment to large-scale irrigated cotton farms in northern New South Wales. Darriea Turley, the mayor of Broken Hill, commented, “[We are] absolutely outraged. We suspected it, but every time we raised it every politician would push back on us.” In 2015, Broken Hill residents had started to notice a bad smell from their water, and some reported suffering from skin conditions because their main supply from the Darling River flows dried up. Joanie Sanders, a resident of Broken Hill, said, “watching the show and seeing the amount of water upstream irrigators had stored when we had no water in town; it was heartbreaking.” Further downstream, at Jamesville Station, irrigator Alan Whyte said he was not surprised by anything he saw in the program. “There are 70 families living in this area, there are about 50 properties, and about a quarter of a million sheep, 119 they all literally ran out of water” (“Murray-Darling Basin: Angry communities call for inquiry,” 2017). The government had always framed the buybacks as an environmental imperative, and the residents of Broken Hill had been able to accept their agricultural and household shortages of water mainly because they believed that the government was protecting the wider system by using environmental water strategically. For the residents of Broken Hill and all those in the system who had experienced shortages and been subject to buybacks, the government’s actions were a major slap in the face. These kinds of topdown decisions on the part of the government greatly undermined confidence in the government's capacity to deliver equitable outcomes. Each of these examples demonstrates the real-world disciplinary effects of the administrative rationalism discourse and how, notwithstanding a drive toward more freemarket economic policies, it has historically been and remains the dominant discourse in water policy in the MDB. Consequently, potential approaches like improving water quality through revegetation or building resilience into the system through water savings measures were overlooked. Further, incidents of corruption or mismanagement were silenced. The discourse enabled the government to take a ‘top-down’ approach to water management planning and expand its role in owning and controlling water. The evidence suggests that the crisis brought on by the drought further centralized water management despite an environment of free market economic reform. The discourse of administrative rationalism played a role in shaping the kinds of solutions that policy practitioners put forward. The complex and evolving situation in the MDB made it difficult for the government to adjust regulations to address the ongoing decline in environmental and resource security. Further, the quality of scientific data and 120 monitoring infrastructure often simply did not meet the requirements dictated by the legislation. MDBA policies did not appear to consider the tangible constraints of day-today implementation problems, in part because they were rooted in a public philosophy that favours high-level, bureaucratic, and scientific planning. Further, the government was discouraged from taking on long-term initiatives that did not benefit them in terms of reelection. In this way, governmental action often took on a reactionary tone. While this is also an institutional problem, political parties often seek to discursively undermine the efforts of the party in power in order to gain electoral favour. An imperative to appear responsive to crisis and demonstrate confidence and authority in their responses generates an expedient and top-down approach to policy formation. Sometimes governments may need to take a central leadership role, as with the NWI. Still, it is apparent that top-down policy prescriptions fail to meet the needs of both the environment and the economy. I contend that the discourse of administrative rationalism is pervasive and often limits a more holistic understanding of the needs of the system, which hinders the ability to mobilize efficient and long-term solutions to the problems facing the Basin. The policy changes since the 1980s, particularly since the Millennium Drought, demonstrate that government policy is influenced considerably by policy definitions stemming from administrative rationalism. There is also evidence to suggest that the long history of state intervention in agricultural modernization did not end with market-based instruments but rather was an extension of the old paradigm, the significant difference being that the costs of the new reforms would be borne by farmers. As we will see in the following section, the discourse of economic rationalism was largely influenced by the overarching ideas of administrative rationalism. Table 5 below summarizes the key 121 transcripts, metaphors and rhetorical devices that characterized the discourse of administrative rationalism in the MDB. The second column summarizes the policies, legislation and actions taken as a result of this type of framing. Table 5 - Administrative Rationalism: Transcripts & Policy, Legislation and Actions in the MDB Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices11 -pragmatic -accountable -oversight -science-based decision making -experts -efficiencies -sustainable diversion limits -modernization -constraints -cap -water scarcity -over allocation -environmental buybacks Policy, Legislation and Actions Taken -Goulburn weir (1891) -Hume Dam (1936) -Burrendong Dam (1967) -Snowy Mountain Hydro scheme (1974) -River Murray Waters Bill (1982) -National Water Initiative (2004) -Federal Water Act (2007) 12 3.2 Economic rationalism and the drive toward free-market reform After the 1994 Council of Australian Governments (COAG) water reform, the states separated the land from water to enable ‘market-based’ mechanisms for the water trade. This change meant farmers and other major water users could trade temporary and permanent water independent of their land. Under the new water reform rules, water and land became separate titles which meant that water could be moved easily and flexibly. Increased demand for water was one of the results of this move. Since the mid to late 1990s, there has not only been a reduction in supply because of drought, but overall demand has also increased. The value of water went up, not only because of the government’s large- 11 Transcripts, words and actions associated with a particular role and set of beliefs. Includes metaphors, euphemisms, gestures, and rhetorical devices, and linguistic habits. (Scott, 1992; Dryzek, 2012) 12 These schemes, initiatives and legal instruments are discussed in detail in chapter 1. 122 scale water purchases for environmental flows but also because of the flexibility built into the new system that allowed water to be bought more easily. The separation of water from land has created many new opportunities for farmers and has, in several cases, allowed the free market to operate more efficiently. Many of the policy changes in the MDB over the last twenty years have been geared toward greater certainty and flexibility in the water market. As will be discussed throughout this section, however, creating a market for water as a tradeable commodity has created numerous challenges. Market speculation can pressure farmers to use all their available water, artificially inflating prices and contributing to a focus on economic as opposed to social values. The separation of land from water has been a productive effect of the discourse of economic rationalism since the 1980s (Crase et al., 2012). It changed farmers’ understandings of what they could grow and how they could grow it. As discussed in Chapter One, the Murray-Darling Basin Agreement in 1992, followed by a cap on water diversions in 1996, changed the nature of farming in the Basin. The National Water Initiative (2004) and The Water Act (2007) solidified these initiatives. In many cases, however, new solutions increased risk and potential failures and spurred environmental buybacks instead of adjustment programs. While the discourse of administrative rationalism stresses the role of the government, economic rationalism emphasizes the role of the individual and reinforces the notion that decision-making should happen at the individual level to promote competition and positive economic growth. Economic rationalism also emphasizes that free markets are the best method of decentralizing environmental planning. In Australia, at least on the 123 surface, the use of a water buybacks policy for environmental water is in line with the discourse of economic rationalism. This section outlines the significant disciplinary and productive effects of framing water management in the MDB in market terms. These include the productive effect of inflation on water prices through speculation. This section also discusses disciplinary effects associated with a focus on economic values, notably reduced concern for social values and a rejection of government interventions that might resemble ‘welfare.’ Building on arguments introduced in section 3.1, this section also highlights the tensions between market-based approaches and ongoing government intervention. Increased government intervention is thus another important productive effect of adopting market-based solutions in this case. As governments adopted the discourse of economic rationalism, farmers increasingly framed their critiques this way as well. Farmers resisted through alternative readings of key concepts like efficiency and productivity. They sought to subvert government policy by challenging and reframing specific terms like ‘entitlement,’ ‘high value,’ and ‘risk.’ This section shows how transcripts of economic rationalism were contested by farmers and used to challenge assumptions taken for granted by the government. The swing towards economic rationalist discourse on the part of government and farmers alike meant some other potentially important ideas and approaches to managing the Basin were effectively pushed off the table. For example, the possibility of providing government funding to help defer payments for irrigation services during the drought was marginalized, even by many farmers, to their own detriment. 124 The remainder of this section focuses on the productive and disciplinary effects of specific transcripts, metaphors and rhetorical devices associated with economic rationalism, including: ‘entitlement’; ‘high-value’; ‘productivity’; ‘efficiency’; and ‘stranded assets.’ These transcripts are emblematic of the discourse of economic rationalism and have significant productive and disciplinary effects on water management policy in the MDB. This section concludes with a discussion of how ‘efficiency’ was reframed by farmers – albeit still within the discourse of economic rationalism – and how they used ‘stranded assets’ to challenge the government’s discourse of economic rationalism. Entitlement Entitlements are the right to a certain percentage of available water under certain circumstances, with the possibility that the entitlement can be lost under certain conditions. Farmers are issued a percentage of their entitlement every year depending on water availability, which could be nothing in the case of drought. The MDBA describes entitlements as “the ongoing right to a share of the available water in the river system up to a maximum amount” (Murray Darling Basin Authority, 2020b). This is not to be confused with an allocation. A farmer may, for example, only receive a fifty percent allocation of their entitlement. 13 Farmers are also able to sell their entitlement on the open 13 An entitlement is not the same as an allocation. For example, a farmer might own an entitlement that gives them the right to a maximum of 100 megalitres of water each year. However, they are not guaranteed to receive the entire 100 megalitres of water in a particular year. The amount they get depends on overall water availability. For example, in a dry year, the farmer might only receive a 50% allocation of their entitlement, or 50 megalitres. Entitlements can be bought or sold, but once sold, the seller loses the right to a regular share of the water (MDBA Common Water Management Terms, 2020). 125 market. Part of the NWI plan included a strategy to make water trading easier by separating water entitlements from regulations that define when and under what conditions the entitlements can be used. This move was meant to make it easier to trade from one hydrological system to another and represents the adoption of a more free-market approach. This new policy would create a water entitlement right to a proportion of a consumptive pool. This change to how entitlements were framed in the NWI was deeply controversial since it had significant implications for farmers. First, the approach assumes that the regulatory approvals in different areas of the pool are similar enough so that they will not create huge variations in the value of water entitlements. As water markets mature, however, it is likely that the regulatory approvals of a given area will be reflected in the price of the water entitlement. For instance, a water entitlement that can only be used in a limited number of circumstances will be less valuable than one that can be used in many. Second, various conditions influence the value of entitlements, thus calling into question the use of the term ‘entitlement.’ For instance, historically, if an entitlement holder did not use their entitlement, they could still retain it. With the policy change, farmers lose their entitlement if they do not use it. Third, farmers pay for entitlements every year but are not always issued water since this depends on water availability. The entitlements can thus be worth less than nothing. Finally, in cases of limited water availability, the farmer must still pay for all the irrigation infrastructure that is not being used. The fact that a farmer bears the full cost of the system, whether they benefit from it or not, leads them to question what exactly they are entitled to. 126 From the government’s perspective, operating within the discourse of economic rationalism, the only real concern is whether the farmer will be compensated if they lose their entitlement. For one government official, irrigators have gained from water reform (Anonymous, personal communication, 2016). He commented, “as soon as that was converted to a lasting entitlement and as soon as water policy changed around the country, that gave them some real security of tenure, and in theory, at least they can be compensated if you take it away.” The rationale behind this approach is that innovative farmers will continue farming while others will be compensated for exiting the industry. He continues, …now they have a transferable, bankable product. Many farmers grew in wealth by millions of dollars overnight almost. They have many more options under the water market as they had before, there is much more rapid investment than there ever was before. Basically, they are great at whingeing, they really like to focus on all the bad things that they think are happening, and they just ignore the good things, it’s just appalling. If we consider only the financial compensation, then it appears farmers have been treated fairly. But, if we consider that for most farmers, farming is not just a business but a way of life; they have something to “whinge” about. Farm families have often retained and worked the same land for over a century but are then asked to abandon their farms. In most cases, farmers are being asked to give up the only work they have ever known, the work that defines who they are as people and their vital role within the larger community. The farmer does not view a water entitlement as a simple monetary instrument. The entitlement can represent something much more valuable. While it can be argued that they can simply sell their entitlement and buy temporary water, the farmer is giving up what is, 127 by definition, an implied security. This is a poignant example of how a term can suggest one meaning but, in practice, mean something entirely different, with far-reaching productive effects. In this case, the productive effect of this new way of defining entitlements is that, for some farmers at least, their water entitlements have either lost their value entirely or at least have the potential to do so under the right circumstances. These farmers can no longer depend on their entitlements to make decisions. This uncertainty can undermine the viability of their businesses and sometimes put them out of business. Governments have endeavoured to frame entitlements within the language of the market. However, framing entitlements in this new way raises important questions about infrastructure. The value of an entitlement is closely related to the infrastructure surrounding it. The costs of maintaining a farming system made possible primarily through irrigation infrastructure projects raises the question of who should pay for infrastructure. Further, infrastructure determines the worth of the various entitlements distributed within the system. As was discussed in chapter one, the irrigation system in Australia was historically designed and built through government-led projects. However, the NSW Irrigation Council and the other irrigators’ groups are responsible for the upkeep of all established irrigation infrastructure. Farmers told me that the irrigation community has borne the costs related to drought as much as possible. In contrast, some people in the government told me that the government has done too much to prop up a failing industry by supporting infrastructure projects (Anonymous, personal communication, 2016). One productive effect of the term entitlements is a dilemma of responsibility. If the infrastructure was developed by governments and upheld by farmers, this calls into question who is responsible for the long-term upkeep of infrastructure. 128 I am presenting here a counter-reading of entitlement wherein entitlement also implies a responsibility to pay for infrastructure. The way entitlements are currently framed has the disciplinary effect of placing responsibility on farmers and implicitly denying responsibility on the part of the government. Entitlements, as defined by the MDBA, are based on water availability, but regardless of the reasons for reduced availability, the farmer pays the price. For example, when infrastructure is dismantled due to government buybacks, the new entitlement holder (i.e., the government) does not bear the responsibility for the costs associated with these assets disappearing. This represents a disciplinary effect of the language of entitlement as it appears in the MDB (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2020b). One government official, who asked to remain anonymous, told me… “they [farmers] are so used to governments coming in and giving them infrastructure grants for nothing. No other industry really gets that sort of largess” (personal communication, 2016). As evidenced in passages like the one below, the government understands that investing in agricultural infrastructure projects implies support for those industries in the long run, …even now there is a big push to develop more water infrastructure, especially in Northern Australia. The big worry is that you pay for the infrastructure and then the farmers go there, and they can’t afford to pay for the upkeep, and the farms fail, especially in the Northwest where there are much more variable systems, the soils are crap, and there is nowhere near the dams anyway. We are talking about projects that are way more likely to have a benefit/ cost ratio that is not good, but still, there are calls for government money to go to such projects. When you are dealing with public money, I think it is really important to firstly consider what your 129 infrastructure priorities are across government, and secondly, what’s going to deliver the best economic return, and finally, what kind of environmental impact is it going to have?” (Anonymous, government official, personal communication, 2016) At the time infrastructure was developed in the Basin, the public gained economically from such projects. This history suggests the government would have an ongoing role in protecting these investments for the public good. Instead, the discourse of economic rationalism focuses on the value of entitlement based on market conditions. However, the quality and strategic placement of water infrastructure is perhaps the most significant determinant of the value of an entitlement. This means that the discourse has the disciplinary effect of downplaying or dismissing an ongoing role for government investments. Further, water reform has, over time, eroded the previous meaning of entitlements because their value is undermined by unpredictable and increasingly lower allocations on the part of the government. The resulting policy solutions are thus seen to have little value in the eyes of farmers. Given the unpredictability of the worth of their current entitlements, it is difficult for farmers to trust that the government won’t take them away or that they will retain any worth under entitlement restrictions. This example demonstrates how governments seek to define a problem under the umbrella of economic rationalism but that the legacy of administrative rationalism continues to be pervasive when it comes to dictating the conditions of water policy in the basin. It reinforces the arguments made in section 3.1, namely the pervasive effects of administrative rationalism on the discourse of economic rationalism. 130 ‘High Value’ ‘High value’ is generally used to refer to certain crops that can be sold at higher prices or to the users who grow them, i.e., ‘high-value users’ (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2021c; Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2020a). The term ‘high value’ has far-reaching productive and disciplinary effects in the MDB. It is synonymous with the turn toward a market-oriented system and economic rationalism generally. Still, a productive effect of its use is to put increased focus on extracting optimal value from water and an impetus toward using every drop of water. Here, I show how a focus on ‘value,’ even though it is a marketbased term, increases the need for government interventions to curb the over-use of water. A focus on ‘value’ also leads to permanent plantings being favoured over annual ones, with significant long-term consequences. Further, emphasizing high-value crops can increase market speculation and inflate market prices. The term ‘high-value’ also has disciplinary effects, such as attention to monetary aspects of value and overlooking other types of values. In addition, it ignores the impacts of moving water out of regions more suitable for ‘lower value crops.’ Consequently, a further productive effect of thinking in terms of ‘value’ is to move large amounts of water out of watersheds that are more suited to growing lower-value crops, with potentially devastating consequences for the health and sustainability of the system as a whole. While the restrictive water trading of the past was thought to result in lost economic opportunities and environmental damage, some research shows that historically a significant proportion of diverted water returned to the rivers and streams (Connell, 2007). The development of water markets made water a valuable trading commodity, increasing the volume diverted for production. The diversions go toward higher-value crops, meaning 131 less water is returned to the environment. The language of scarcity is synonymous with ‘value.’ An approach that seeks to ensure that every drop of water is accounted for has the effect of creating a system in which water becomes so valuable as a trading commodity that crops use an ever-increasing percentage of diverted water. In some sense, historically, at least, wasted water had not really been wasted at all. However, a focus on the ‘value’ of water puts pressure on farmers to use their water, even in drought conditions. After the Water Act was implemented, a lot of higher-value crops began to be grown, particularly almonds. This involved investment schemes by large companies that put in big plantings. They bought up many of the ‘sleeper’14 water licenses and quickly activated them (Davies, 2018). As a result, when the drought began, there was much less water in the system because the allocations were being used fully (D. Schoen, personal communication, 2016). In the past, farmers were able to keep producing even during severe drought because the water allocations were not used in full. One farmer, Ian Mason, recalls how earlier droughts, particularly in the 1960s, were often a blessing for irrigation farmers… Quite a perverse outcome in many ways, in those days, irrigation farmers, because dams were never drawn right down, they were able to keep producing. So, they often made money during a drought because they could produce when the dryland farmers couldn’t. I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but that was what used to happen. That can’t happen now because it’s not like that anymore. (I. Mason, personal communication, 2016) 14 A licence that uses none (or little) of its allocation or entitlement over the course of the water year but has the potential to be used in the future. 132 Even during a drought, there was still enough water in the system for irrigators to run a normal farming program (I. Mason, personal communication, 2016). Economic rationalism is based on the premise that markets will determine the best possible use of a resource. From the government’s perspective, it is their responsibility to ensure that there are regulations in place that allow the free market to operate. The unfettered market, in theory, delivers water to the highest-value users. In other words, the user with the highest likely return on investment and available funds buys the water. As Russell James of the MDB explains, …in a sort of modern economy, if our goal is to maximize the utility of that water that is available for extraction and use, then the best thing the government can do is establish water access arrangement for people who want to use the water… You establish a market, and in theory, over time, the people who value the water the most will be the ones that hold those licenses and use the water. (R. James, personal communication, 2016) According to James, the water trading system allowed permanent plantings to stay alive during the drought. For almost three years, virtually no annual crops like rice or cotton were grown. In many cases, the permanent plantings were also unable to produce much, but the trading regime allowed those permanent plantings to survive. Further, the people who would have normally grown rice could still retain some income by selling their annual licenses to the growers with permanent plantings. For James, the result was that “the people who produced nothing still got an income, and the people who valued their crops more highly were able to protect those crops” (personal communication, 2016). 133 Some farmers shared the sentiment of Russell James because the benefits of water trading were substantial for them, given their water entitlements exceeded their irrigation needs. Farmer Bruce Atkinson has a big entitlement, but much of his farm is not suitable for irrigation because it is undulating (meaning the land has too many slopes), which makes for very inefficient irrigation. For Atkinson, quite often, it is more economical to sell the water than to use it, “[T]here are new industries that can pay a lot more for water like raisins and almonds, other horticultural products and cotton. We are better off to sell our water to someone who can pay more for water” (B. Atkinson, personal communication, 2016). Very little rice was grown in that period because growers could not afford the water. Therefore, water went to permanent plantings that could absorb the extra costs (R. Sagwood, personal communication, 2016). Despite the benefits of moving towards growing high-value crops and for others to sell their water, there are also significant problems. For instance, a productive effect of this way of constructing the value of a crop is that it can generate a landscape with less resilience or flexibility. Defining a high-value crop is difficult because if everyone starts growing it, it becomes surplus and eventually becomes a low-value crop. Farmer Hayden Cudmore, for instance, believes that the transition toward more high-value crops is generally good but is concerned that the long-term implications of such a transition have not been fully considered (H. Cudmore, personal communication, 2016). High-value crops like almonds are generally permanent plantings which entail a whole different set of risks and responsibilities. I think that what we have always done is good, but over time there needs to be some permanent plantings that are your higher value, but we can’t all grow the same 134 because we don’t want to create an oversupply and second, the water situation, in terms of availability would not be able to cope with enough water supply to maintain all permanent plantings. The way the licenses work, we have some water that is higher reliability than others, and what I do in annual cropping and rice production is an annual crop, so if the water is available, I grow it, and if the water’s not, then I can opt-out. Whereas, with permanent plantings, you can’t opt-in and out. (H. Cudmore, personal communication, 2016) Transitioning to permanent plantings means a longer-term commitment to irrigation. Permanent plantings are not just high value; they also require a higher investment and incur higher risk if farmers do not have a sufficient water right. During the drought years, Cudmore did not experience crop losses because he simply chose not to grow a rice crop. He remarked... “the crops didn’t fail in those dry years; I was just not able to get them in the ground in the first place” (H. Cudmore, personal communication, 2016). To complicate these issues, farmers are also disproportionally susceptible to market conditions that include the entrance of new investors. Thus, another potential productive effect of focusing on ‘high value’ crops is increasing financialization. Investors and speculators with ‘deep pockets’ can artificially drive up the price of water and make farming financially unviable. This has made farmers uneasy because water could go not to the ‘highest value’ crops but simply to the highest investor. Trading water could drive up its price while reducing productive use at the same time. One farmer, Bruce Atkinson, explained this concern, There is only one way to get water back and that is through the market, and it will be an open market system because it can’t be anything else. People with deep 135 pockets will buy it, but they won’t be from here, they will be from down the river, it will be an institution or a superannuation company or some sort of corporate will buy the water. If the Commonwealth did sell the water back to industry it won’t come back to where it came from here. (B. Atkinson, personal communication, 2016) Another effect of separating water from land was the tendency for water to change hands solely for the purpose of increasing profits for investors. For example, many people had high debts during and after the drought, so they sold off water to pay off those debts. The problem, however, was that it was not farmers buying the water. One farmer, Alan Clark, explained the problem from his perspective, Trading has its advantages, but when third parties have the water and not farmers, and when investors get involved, then they try to find ways to push the price of water up artificially, which can really hurt farmers. If an investor buys water for 1500 dollars, then he is expecting a return of 6 or 7%. As everyone is chasing water and buying water up, that price might increase to 3000 dollars, so investors can drive the price way up (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). Financialization of water can lead to artificial increases in prices due to speculation in the market. This problem is also closely associated with the difficulties of managing risk. When farmers are uncertain about their future allocations for the next season (and for their livestock), they tend to buy more water on the temporary market, pushing the water price up even if there is plenty of water in the system. One farmer, Allen Clark, observed that even when the weather is just slightly dry, there is great concern that the price will increase, so everyone rushes to buy water before the price increases, which essentially 136 causes the price of water to increase. Insecurity in the market pushes the price of water up artificially (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). There was a consensus among the farmers I spoke with that speculation has contributed to driving up water prices. Still, economic rationalism reinforces the view that such financial instruments are simply part of doing business. Economic rationalism also reinforces the notion that despite market conditions, it is the responsibility of farmers to respond to the market. For some farmers like Cudmore, skilled at buying and selling water, such a system can offer benefits. For others (J. Bonetti, personal communication, 2016), farming should not be about managing water markets but about the business of farming itself. There are significant issues with treating water like any other commodity that can be bought and sold and is susceptible to speculation. While there are distinct benefits to water trading, evidence suggests that government has a role in ensuring fair market competition. Some farmers I spoke with argue that it is also essential to understand that there is a slew of potential values associated with growing crops, not all of which can be easily monetized. Further, in many cases, only the immediate monetary impacts are measured without regard for secondary industries supported by primary production. In sum, the term ‘high value’ is not a simple concept and the policy implications of how we define the concept have substantial productive effects on policy. I now turn to consider some of the disciplinary effects of this concept of ‘high value’ crops and users associated with economic rationalism in the MDB. One significant disciplinary effect of this emphasis on ‘high value’ is that the wider social, ecological and even economic values associated with water use are not considered. Water value calculations only take into consideration the instrumental value of water 137 among competing users of the water. For example, the approach does not account for the secondary industries that benefit from what happens in Australia or elsewhere. Consider this case: In 2015, the price of water peaked at around three hundred dollars a megaliter, and this price made it very difficult for farmers like Allen Clark to have a good margin (input to sale price) on any of the crops he traditionally grows. As such, Clark decided to experiment with peppermint, a high-value crop. However, he questioned the ethical value of producing peppermint when rice could provide a far greater benefit to the broader population. Clark remarked: “I look at it differently because I could be growing rice which is needed by 70% of the world’s population, but instead, I am growing peppermint for 2% of the world’s population” (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). The incentives for high-value crops have the effect of overlooking the larger challenge of providing food security to the world. For farmers, there is a personal moral obligation to provide nourishing food to people. The concept of a ‘high value’ use is determined solely by the monetary value of producing that crop, while social values are set aside. The way that the term ‘value’ is understood has further implications. For example, Farmer Barry Kirkup also challenges the government's perspective: The way the government looks at it is that it should go to the highest value users, so whether the food is sent overseas to support value-added industries in other countries, or whether it is used in Australia, or whether the crop is being used to produce non-essential items for the middle and upper classes, or to provide food aid to the poor is of no consequence. The government approach is pure economics. There is, therefore, third-party value impacts on water use that are completely overlooked.” (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016) 138 Citing a more extreme example, Kirkup worries that there is nothing in the current rules that could prevent someone from simply bottling the water and sending it overseas; “they could get a temporary trade return of 1000 dollars a megalitre, and they could go and buy it for 150. Whereas, I’m trying to add value at the farm level for food and fibre” (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). Another key disciplinary effect of valuing water in economic terms is that it ignores distinct needs and priorities within watersheds by allowing – even encouraging – interwatershed water trade. Several farmers commented that putting a value on water was a positive decision. For example, farmer and winemaker Darren Debortoli commented that “the single best thing the government did was to put a value on water.” However, he believes that the major weakness in this system is that water can be traded between catchment areas. This means that higher-value crop growers in a completely different region can buy up the water in a catchment and cause it to become unviable. In these circumstances, whole irrigation areas could become unviable because they are only suitable for lower-value crops like rice. The consequences of moving large volumes of productive water out of an entire catchment area could be devastating. As Debortoli points out: “you can’t move water from one part all the way down to another part because someone will pay more somewhere else way down the system. That is a major fault of the current management; the management should be based on catchment areas” (D. Debortoli, personal communication, 2016). Further, it is not always the case that farmers can simply switch to high-value crops. Certain moisture and soil conditions are likely to dictate these types of choices just as much as crop value. It would be impractical to start a farming 139 program of higher value crops where the soil conditions are not ideal (D. Debortoli, personal communication, 2016). In conclusion, the focus on ‘high value’ has the disciplinary effect of overlooking (as irrelevant to determining ‘value’) the environmental and social costs of water trading. Agricultural users are not generally ‘high value’ users, and it is difficult to assume that a higher value user (like mining, for example) will be more productive for the economy. There is also widespread fear in local communities that people will sell their water entitlements and exit their communities, leading to a further decrease in rural populations, a reduction in rural services, the closing of local businesses that support farmers, and a waning sense of community (Kiem, 2013, p. 1623). Further, marketization has not significantly reduced the central role of government in practice but has shifted risk and responsibility for negative externalities onto farmers and the communities that rely on them. Despite extensive discussions by government to reduce interventions in agriculture and let markets perform, the regulations in place appear to do the opposite. In the example of water trading, the government in Canberra does not appear to grasp the full complexity of water as a tradable asset. The transcript of ‘high value’ in water markets has often unnecessarily increased bureaucratization and disrupted business operations. This transcript, advanced by the government, has caused confusion and, in some cases, contributed to financial losses and poor environmental outcomes. Productivity An emphasis on ‘productivity’ is illustrated by the creation of the Productivity Commission Inquiry into National Water reform under the Water Act 2007, which undertakes inquiries 140 into the progress of reform in Australia’s water resources sector every three years (MurrayDarling Basin Authority, 2021a). ‘Productivity’ is closely linked to the goals of economic rationalism. In the MDB, it is measured only in terms of output (measured in value) per unit of water used on a farm. It tends to ignore the economic multiplier effects of the value of the activity taking place within the community. The examples in this section illustrate this disciplinary effect of the discourse. In the past, it was normal for farmers to leave large parts of their farm fallow, but today it is simply impossible to compete if land is left fallow. Farmer Ian Mason recalls that in the past, “the intensity in farming was lower… Nowadays, we farm every hectare. The level of intensity is high. I think there was a natural ability to survive because the intensity wasn’t as high, and droughts were shorter” (I. Mason, personal communication, 2016). In today’s business climate, there are enormous pressures to be productive. Like efficiency, how we define productivity also significantly influences policy choices. Discussions around productivity have historically focused on getting the most out of water and maximizing the production of a given commodity on the farm. A disciplinary effect of this view of productivity, however, is that it limits the number of factors (or variables) we consider when we determine what being “productive” means in practice. The dominant conception of productivity is limited to the farm, its crops, and water use. It does not include productivity in secondary industries that arise out of certain types of production, and it does not consider how many jobs those other industries can create. From the government’s perspective, as articulated by Russell James, it is “not the government’s role to pick winners or losers.” In the case of rice growers, however, a robust secondary industry has grown up around rice production. The company SunRice produces 141 a wide range of rice products and has well-established manufacturing sites that employ many people. It has invested significant funds in these sites and depends on a certain amount of rice production every year to maintain operations (R. James, personal communication, 2016). If more water recovery continues to occur, less rice will be grown. Further, as other commodities enter the region, it will be more difficult for SunRice to maintain its operations. Therefore, how productivity is understood is critical. In particular, the question of who is productive and at what scale productivity is measured becomes important. A related disciplinary effect of the common understanding of productivity is that it excludes consideration of secondary values, like the generation of employment and wealth within the Australian economy. For rice growers, there is increasing competition for water from nuts, mainly cashews and almonds. Nut growers are establishing larger farms in the southern basin, particularly because permanent plantings have a more secure water allocation. Further, a lot of investment comes from companies based in the United States who buy up water and send the nuts directly to their processing centers in the United States. This means that processing will not happen in Australia, and the secondary value associated with the water used for production will not be retained within the Australian economy (R. James, personal communication, 2016). As Russell James explains, “the nuts are basically taken off the tree, de-husked, or whatever, and then put in a packet and sold overseas. That’s a fairly light touch in terms of the processing sector.” This industry, therefore, has very little productive value to the Australian economy. Although the rice industry has taken the greatest hit when it comes to the free market for water and the impact of drought, 142 it retains one of the highest values for the Australian economy in terms of generating income and jobs in secondary industries. One government official said that, in terms of the rice industry, the secondary processing industry could be maintained by buying rice from elsewhere if necessary. “Even in the rice industry, they found that even when production was way down, they simply bought rice from Pakistan and put it through their production facilities and made the products that they make anyway.” He said that while some of the facilities were forced to shut down, that is just an impact of the drought: “That’s inevitable, that’s farming in this country, we have such a variable climate whether it is irrigated agriculture or not we are always vulnerable to drought” (Anonymous, government official, personal communication, 2016). These comments highlight the government’s limited vision regarding the productive capacity that rice delivers to the wider economy and the community. The way that productivity is defined within the discourse of economic rationalism narrows the types of policy measures considered. Farming contributes to many secondary productive industries and employment, but the government’s productivity measures do not adequately account for these secondary measures. Defining what it means to be productive in a modern economy trying to balance production needs with environmental outcomes deserves careful attention. As discussed in the chapter on community-centrism, farmers often characterize productivity as part of a community-wide issue. For the farmers I spoke with, the inclusion of small businesses and large production facilities like SunRice should all be included in measures of productivity. 143 Efficiency The farmers I interviewed seek to challenge the dominant framing of ‘efficiency,’ a term associated with economic rationalism. Governments have implemented efficiency programs to save water, not increase productivity. On the other hand, farmers wish to increase productivity through the efficiencies they achieve using government programs. Efficiencies gained through upgrades are seen as a way to generate income and grow their businesses. In other words, the farmers are advancing a market-based definition of efficiency that focuses on growth. A key difference is that governments tend to view efficiency at the farm level. Farmers, on the other hand, tend to see efficiency as a value across the entire farming system, not just in terms of reducing water use. They consider increases in electricity, fuel and other inputs when modifying their systems. Farmers seek to challenge the government’s definition of efficiency by offering an alternative reading focusing on market-based growth and community-wide values. Further, governments have tended to focus on short-term water savings while farmers have asked about the long-term efficiency costs. Farmers seek to redefine ‘efficiency’ within the logic of economic rationalism. Both groups, however, tend to overlook definitions of efficiency that could be considered outside the logic of economic rationalism. The rationale behind water buybacks in exchange for money toward on-farm efficiency programs is that farmers can reduce their water use and grow more crops with less. Efficiency programs provide government funding for on-farm irrigation systems and on-farm water use reduction measures in exchange for water for environmental purposes. These programs generally follow a market-based logic as government exchanges project money for water. Efficiencies include installing new or upgrading existing irrigation 144 infrastructure or technology, including automated water management systems and sensing equipment to improve irrigation efficiency, improving irrigated area layout or design for the purpose of enhancing on-farm irrigation efficiency (e.g., laser grading, decommissioning old irrigation infrastructure); upgrading, or converting to, surface or subsurface drip systems and overhead spray systems such as lateral move or centre pivots; and, finally, installing ancillary equipment necessary for new or upgraded irrigation systems to function (e.g., computer equipment or pumping equipment). For the government, these ‘efficiency’ measures aim to reduce the water used on farms and put that water toward the environment. The government is asking the farmers to produce the same amount with less. From the farmer's perspective, however, being more efficient may reduce water use, but it also increases the potential for productivity. Farmers who develop expensive infrastructure to become more efficient often feel compelled to produce more— farmers, therefore, frame ‘efficiency’ in market-based terms to contest the government’s assumptions. Russell James, a government official with the MDB, acknowledges that the effect of the plan is to take water out of production, which will inevitably impact the level of production, “even though some systems will be more efficient, it will not counter the overall impact, being a reduction in production” (R. James, personal communication, 2016). According to James, the purpose of investing in efficiency is simply to balance the impact of buying back licenses and taking water out of production. James commented, “I guess the point is, production shouldn’t be too much lower, it will be somewhat lower, but it shouldn’t be too much lower and, in the future, particularly when we’re moving into a dryer climate, the production systems that are left after all of this investment takes place 145 will be more efficient and, in a sense, better positioned to produce in a drying climate” (R. James, personal communication, 2016). In contrast to this view, for most farmers I spoke with, the goal of efficiency is to produce more. Farmers cannot understand why they should invest so much time and money into infrastructure if they cannot produce more. Further, after the program is complete, farmers have a new state-of-the-art system, but they still have the same or less water to work with. One farmer, Allen Clark, explains the problem in this way: “The theory of it was quite good, that if I used 500 megalitres of water to irrigate 500 hectares traditionally, if it came back that I only needed 400 mega litres to irrigate 500 hectares, and the government bought 100 megs off of the farmer, then that’s great. The only problem is that now you have this amazing, updated irrigation system, and you wish you could do more with it” (personal communication, 2016). While the government has looked primarily at water savings on individual farms, farmers have asked how water savings in one farm or area can impact efficiencies throughout the larger farm system and dependent communities. Farmers have resisted the way the government defines efficiency by questioning their focus at the farm level. According to farmer John Hand, a buyback might be a win for the individual farmer but is ultimately a loss for the larger community because water is effectively taken out of the community and production is lost: “It’s like a milking cow, you have lost the milking cow. In good faith they thought they would get one and a half times as much from the cow by changing the way we do things, but it’s not reflective” (J. Hand, personal communication, 2016). Hand provided an analogy that explains how efficiency is understood and how it operates in reality. I will call it the ‘efficiency trap.’ 146 Assume you’ve got 800 cows in a dairy. It is very slow and labour-intensive. So, the government has come and said we will take 300 of those cows, and you can get a rotary dairy. So, you say yeah, because it’s going to be a lot more efficient. So, you’ve given 300 cows to the government, and the government has given you a wack of cash. You build a rotary dairy. So instead of milking cows in two hours, you milk 500 cows in three-quarters of an hour. But the problem is that the thing that gives you the milk is the cow, so now that you are more productive, you think to yourself, I want 1000 cows because I’m so productive. But now those cows are out of the market. And you have had 4 or 5 people do the same things around you, and they are competing for extra cattle as well. And if you can get the cattle on the temporary market, you are all chasing it because you are more efficient. Each cow doesn’t really give much more milk, only because it’s in and out of the dairy quicker, but it’s physically restrained by how much it can produce. So, all you have done is make it easier to milk, but you have lost production. It’s a false economy. (J. Hand, personal communication, 2016) We can relate the dairy example to water efficiency programs. Hand’s example shows that while farmers become much more productive through better water use practices, water is taken out of the system forever. As more farmers sell their water entitlements, there is much less water in the community. This leaves farmers with more efficient farming systems but a significant shortage of water. The shortage of water drives up the price of water for all the farms. Farmers can no longer afford to pay for water, so their efficient irrigation systems become useless. The government has defined efficiency as an individual value related to reducing water use at the farm level, but this definition does not consider 147 efficiencies within the broader community. The farmers raise the critical point that it is problematic to measure efficiency only at the level of individual outcomes on each farm. The scale at which one measures ‘efficiency’ becomes very important when we examine cases in closer detail. How the government defines efficiency has had the disciplinary effect of focusing energies only on water use efficiencies. Farmer solutions, on the other hand, often seek to reduce water usage while also reducing energy use in other ways, including fuel, electricity, or labour. Hand, for example, questions the efficiency of transitioning from flood irrigation to overhead irrigation, a central measure taken by the on-farm efficiency programs. He believes that in his location, flood irrigation is much more efficient than overhead systems, particularly on a dollar basis. Considering the cost of labour, machinery and fuel, the overhead irrigation system becomes so costly as not to warrant any of the implied efficiencies with the program (J. Hand, personal communication, 2016). As Hand explains, water converts to a specific amount of food no matter what kind of system you have in place. From the start to the end of the season, if the farmer has accurate agronomics and their layout is correct, they should be able to convert one millimetre of water to 20 kilograms of wheat. Simply putting a sprinkler on the crop will not significantly impact the conversion rate. Hand argues that there is, in fact, no significant increase in the productive value of water, but simply a change in the sequence of delivery that makes watering easier for the farmer (J. Hand, personal communication, 2016). As is demonstrated through these examples, farmers frame efficiency much more broadly than governments. Both the government and farmers are working within a discourse of efficiency. Still, the government tends to define efficiencies narrowly, which 148 has disciplinary effects in terms of the types of programs and measures they seek to implement. If we define efficiency simply in terms of water use, we might measure a high level of efficiency, but if we include the various other factors involved, we may see a decrease in efficiency. Farmers seek to reframe the way that efficiencies are defined, and as such, the contestation of the term ‘efficiency’ can be seen as a site of resistance within the discourse of economic rationalism. There are also significant disciplinary effects associated with framing efficiency in terms of water savings over the short term (2-3 years) and meeting the goals of taking water out of production for environmental purposes. On the other hand, farmers draw attention to the long-term impacts of reduced efficiencies within the system. Like John Hand, Gary Knagge did not participate in environmental buyback programs because he believed doing so would destroy any chance of a consistent return. In other words, what may be more efficient in the short term becomes far less efficient in the long term. Knagge understood the appeal of selling water back to the government for environmental purposes and being able to improve paddocks with government funds, but the farmer is left with much less water. This would not be a problem if farmers were guaranteed some minimum allocation on their water entitlement, but in reality, they may not receive any water at all (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). He noted, “you can have a perfectly well laid-out farm because of all of the efficiencies that you’ve done, but if you don’t have enough water, then you’re not growing anything” (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). Interestingly, and in line with economic rationalism, some farmers believe that efficiency programs and government assistance in any form represent an affront to fair competition in farming. This signifies that they see it as outside the market-based approach 149 and unacceptable. For farmer John Bonetti, “if you can’t compete in the big bad world, get out. Go and do something else. If you can’t compete with Usain Bolt, don’t get in the race with him.” Bonetti understands that free competition in the market tends to result in fewer farmers being able to compete but believes that using government funds to build farm businesses creates a dependency-like situation (J. Bonetti, personal communication, 2016). In the Australian case, efficacy is viewed differently than in other market-based contexts. Under the WTO framework on Agriculture, subsidies are allowed to help farmers to become more efficient without increasing production (World Trade Organization, 1995). These types of programs are generally accepted as part of a market-based system. However, on-farm efficiency programs in Australia are not considered subsidies according to the WTO definition since they buy water allocations to enable capital improvements. They are market-based, and there is no way for the government to compel farmers to maintain production at the same level or control how farmers spend the money they receive from selling their allocations. This can mean that farmers might increase water use or production because there is no regulatory mechanism for controlling either. Inflating prices for water may not necessarily reduce production and may simply translate into a higher price for the commodity, which is generally passed onto the consumer. In sum, the market-based approach in Australia, with its rejection of subsidies, has significant disciplinary effects on the types of policies that can be implemented. Both the government and farmers define ‘efficiency’ within market-based terms and in line with the overarching discourse of economic rationalism. The government focuses on reducing water use through on-farm efficiency programs. Farmers, on the other 150 hand, are focused on increasing production while at the same time reducing water use. Farmers are also more concerned with how water efficiencies impact the broader farming system and farming communities over the long term. Farmers work within the discourse of economic rationalism to resist the government’s narrower conception of efficiency. It is notable, however, that both sides overlook alternative definitions of efficiency in this contest, such as subsidies associated with productivity limits that the WTO finds acceptable. This is an example of the disciplinary effect of the discourse on all parties. Still, sites of resistance for farmers have emerged within the established discourse of economic rationalism. Stranded Assets One of the productive effects of the market-based approach and buybacks, in particular, is what is known as ‘stranded assets.’ The transcript of ‘stranded assets’ is commonly used within the farming community to refer to abandoned assets or infrastructure as farmers sold their water entitlements. From the perspective of some farmers, the government’s marketbased approach has shifted financial risk onto farmers and inadvertently undermined their efforts to become more effective environmental stewards. Farmers spend large sums of money to increase their water efficiencies, and even though everyone benefits from such initiatives, only farmers incur the risk from these projects. In the past, governments had invested in dams and other major irrigation projects, but they no longer build the channels and ponds farmers need to manage water effectively. This work is done by the irrigation companies and paid for by farmers. Nonetheless, as farmer Tony Piggins puts it, in times of crisis, the governments “come in over the top” and significantly reduce allocations 151 without concern for these investments (T. Piggins, personal communication, 2016). Farmers negatively affected by buybacks, and the costs associated with stranded assets, have challenged the economic logic of the government by stating that the free markets are essentially undermined by government interventions. In the past, banks lent money to farmers, using their water allocation entitlements as security. Huge amounts of money were loaned to farmers to develop more sustainable irrigation systems. For example, if you had a 5000-mega litre allocation and the government brought that down to 1500, but you had borrowed against the security of the 5000, then you would be in grave financial trouble (T. Piggins, personal communication, 2016). In this situation, the farmer could lose the security on their investment, but they may also have to significantly reduce their water usage at the same time, which leaves any new infrastructure as a ‘stranded asset.’ Ultimately, such government intervention can dramatically reduce the confidence of both the banks and the farmers to make future investments in infrastructure meant to reduce water usage. Some farmers expressed that they could be doing things more efficiently if the government were more consistent with framing the problem in economic terms. For example, farmer Tony Piggins estimates that he has spent between half and three-quarters of a million dollars on his irrigation systems. All the pipes and the entire system are underground, so there are no evaporation losses, and they have center pivots which cost about AUD 100,000 each. Further, A hundred-acre irrigator is going to cost you in the vicinity of 200,000 dollars. If you run out of water and you can’t use it, you have all these stranded assets sitting out on the paddocks, and you haven’t got the water to put through them, and you 152 can’t grow a crop, and no one wants to buy a second-hand irrigator for 200,000 dollars. This is the issue that the government had to confront in this 016 area 15, which was quite a fraught process. It wasn’t all center pivot irrigation; there was a lot of flood irrigation happening in 016 as well. There was no way the government could even come close to compensating in the amounts that the farmers had lost (T. Piggins, personal communication, 2016). Not only do farmers experience serious economic hardships, but much of the hard work they have put into water conservation is also undermined, to the detriment of the entire Basin system. The financial costs to the farmer and the social costs to the communities that depend on these farms are also far-reaching. One of the main arguments against the government's approach is that the situation is creating a ‘swiss cheese effect’ in agriculture with an increasing number of stranded assets, which makes it harder and costlier to deliver water through the Murray irrigation company. Because there is less volume, the costs of the system are spread over fewer people. Many of the water licenses also have fees associated with them. These fees are designed to underwrite the cost of the infrastructure to deliver water to the farm gate. While this is an onerous financial burden to bear in the wake of drought, some government officials told me that the burden of responsibility falls squarely on farmers, and a failure to make these payments is the result of poor economic planning. One high-level government official, Russell James, stated where he believes the burden of responsibility lies: 15 These codes are used to identify irrigation zones. 153 A lot of farmers said, “We can’t afford those fees because we’re not producing anything.” Well, an economic, rational person would say, “Well, that’s too bad. You should have provided for that cost because you know it’s an annual cost that comes every year. It’s the same cost every year to access those services. You should have put some money away in good times to make up for the fact that in dry years you still have that payment owing” (R. James, personal communication, 2016). The costs of buybacks and stranded assets are borne by the farmers who remain in business, creating further incentives for them to exit farming all together. In addition, the productive use of water in certain areas depends on soil conditions. The piecemeal approach of the government did nothing to ensure that the most productive areas would remain in production. During the drought, some of the most productive farms were in crisis, and farmers struggling with debt were forced to sell. In sum, the logic of economic rationalism has the disciplinary effect of ignoring or discrediting any solutions that are not market-based. Farmers presented no blanket solutions in terms of how to deal with stranded assets. However, there were several suggestions from individual farmers on how to avoid stranded assets, including: not allowing water to be sold between regions so that water remains equally distributed throughout the Basin; reducing water allocations equitably based on a percentage of existing allocations of individual farmers; strategically negotiating water acquisitions collectively to minimize losses; or strategically offering water buybacks to minimize the impact of stranded assets in fewer regions. Notably, farmers mobilize this script, ‘stranded assets’ to make these counterpoints to the government. This is a clear 154 example of farmers working within the discourse of economic rationalism to frame a consequence in terms designed to elicit attention to their concerns. The market-based approach, with its focus on individual compensation, effectively disciplines other strategies and appears to have undermined the cohesion of the broader community by forcing the farmers who remained to shoulder the burden of a reduced water supply. Section Conclusion As evidenced throughout this section, specific transcripts associated with the discourse of economic rationalism have both productive and disciplinary effects on the kinds of policy options that both government and farmers find acceptable to deal with problems in the MDB. Both farmers and government officials accept the discourse of economic rationalism; they tend to value free markets, deregulation, and privatization. However, farmers challenge many of the assumptions that are inherent in terms like ‘entitlement,’ ‘high value,’ ‘productivity,’ and ‘efficiency.’ Farmers work within the discourse of economic rationalism to challenge ways of framing efficiency and productivity. They also introduce new terms grounded in economic theory to make their case for what they think the government is missing. The term ‘stranded assets’ is the key example presented here. In this way, farmers challenge and resist elements of policy using the language of economic rationalism. While farmers have largely accepted the overarching discourse as the reasonable and appropriate response, they have also challenged that discourse. As explained in section 3.1, policies characterized by market-based mechanisms tend to hide government interventions that shape the current situation in the MDB. For instance, while the government has allowed free trade in the water market, it has bought 155 up nearly half that water itself. Further, caps on water and regulations on buyback levels are not determined by the market but by the government. This means that despite a strong discursive emphasis on economic rationalism, in practical terms, administrative rationalism is still pervasive. As was argued in the section on administrative rationalism, there is a long history of government interventions that have a continued effect on policy outcomes in the MDBA. There continue to be numerous governmental rules, regulations and interventions that influence the market in myriad ways. Government investment in infrastructure and involvement in setting caps, buyback levels, and efficiency programs all reaffirm its responsibility and participation in the market. Farmers resist government interventions from within the discourse of economic rationalism through their alternative readings of entitlement, high value, efficiency, and productivity. For instance, from within, they offer an alternative definition of efficiency based mainly on the free-market philosophy and is focused on growth. They also resist the discourse from the outside, for example, by reiterating alternative policy responses that were pushed off the table because they did not fit within the market logic, such as the idea that you can only trade within basins and not across them. Both sides, however, miss alternative possibilities, like increasing efficiency while at the same time enforcing regulations that limit production, as is often done by other signatories of the WTO Agreement on Agriculture. This is an approach used by many countries (e.g., in the European Union; Clapp, 2016, pp. 71-95) wherein production levels are maintained at a low level, but farmers can increase profits through the best use of water and other inputs. Most significantly, the economic rationalist approach, like the administrative rationalist approach, misses many opportunities because it fails to characterize problems in a way that 156 focuses on social and environmental outcomes. This was evidenced by negative impacts on community life and inadvertent environmental damage like black water events that sometimes occurred. The impacts of the current approach to water management will be explored in further detail in the chapters on green environmentalism and communitycentrism. Table 5 sums up this section by illustrating the key transcripts, metaphors and rhetorical devices associated with the discourse of economic rationalism, as well as specific pieces of policy, legislation and actions taken in the MDB that are strongly influenced by this discourse. Table 6- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Economic Rationalism Discourses: Transcripts & Policy, Legislation and Actions in the MDB Transcripts (Scott, 1992, Metaphors and Policy, Legislation and Actions Taken Rhetorical Devices (Dryzek, 2012) Transcripts, words and actions associated with a particular role and set of beliefs. Includes metaphors, euphemisms, gestures, rhetorical devices, and linguistic habits. ECONOMIC RATIONALISM -entitlement -National Water Initiative (2004) -high-value user/ crop -Federal Water Act (2007) -risk -Water trading and the activation of ‘sleeper’ -flexibility licenses -commodities -Buyback and efficiency programs -Financial speculation and international water -stranded assets -efficiencies markets -productivity -market-based instruments -free markets -managing risk -growth -competition 3.3 Democratic Pragmatism 157 Like administrative rationalism, democratic pragmatism places nature as subordinate to human problem-solving efforts. It is different, however, in that it imagines that problemsolving is a group effort from scientists, elected officials, interest group leaders, voters and non-voters. Everyone has agency, and the democratic process is seen not as hierarchal but as both a competition and a cooperative process between actors vying for their interests. Therefore, there is a strong focus on individual agency and autonomy in democratic pragmatism. Independence and self-reliance are thought to bolster personal achievements, which ultimately benefit everyone. In this sense, democratic pragmatism is “a problemsolving discourse reconciled to the basic status quo of liberal capitalism” (Dryzek, 2013, 99). Individuals have the agency to create collective changes by putting their interests forward. However, this focus on individual agency can have the productive effect of perpetuating a zero-sum approach to deliberations which does not factor in how the success of one contributes to the success of all. Nor does it consider how one person’s loss contributes to the loss of others. Therefore, the focus on individuals can limit the ability of democratic processes to build collective capacity (Dryzek, 2013). In the case of the MDB, the prevailing discursive frameworks, which are centred around individual responsibility, thwart the implementation of more authentic democratic processes and diminish the capacity of communities to work together to develop collective solutions to problems. As discussed in chapter two, democratic pragmatism is a participatory form of democratic engagement. The version of democratic pragmatism practiced in the MDB is constrained by the overarching views embedded in administrative rationalism, particularly individualism. Nonetheless, democratic pragmatism is still important in defining what is considered an acceptable deliberative process. Using several 158 examples, I show how the discourse of democratic pragmatism impacted the consultation process but how attempts at consultation and engagement were generally inconsequential. I argue that this is because the discourse is limited by the internal disciplines associated with it. These include (but are not limited to): asymmetrical power imbalances, physical disciplines that reduce democratic participation (like the capacity to travel to meetings), knowledge-based disciplines (like the inability to communicate in the kinds of ways that farmers understand), and social disciplines (farmers are part of a different social class). The examples included in this section show that democratic pragmatism uses the language of engagement but has the productive effect of thwarting more authentic efforts at democratic engagement. This section summarizes the MDB's consultative process and explores the productive effects of democratic pragmatism. The Consultative Process The consultative process in the MDB appears well-aligned with the principles described in the discourse of democratic pragmatism. This is true in so much as town hall meetings, consultations, and other forms of engagement took place. However, as practiced in the MDB, democratic pragmatism is a narrow and shallow conceptualization of democratic engagement. The consultation process did not enthusiastically seek out – or depend – on wider input from the farm communities impacted. Despite speaking of democratic engagement and participation, decision-making was still orchestrated from the centre. This is because there are limitations associated with democratic pragmatism as a problemsolving discourse. 159 To understand the role of democratic pragmatism and its effects on policy in the MDB, it is necessary to explain the bureaucratic procedures and instruments that have accompanied it. In 2007, toward the end of the Millennium Drought, Prime Minister John Howard said that he did not think the states were doing enough to manage water resources. Howard announced the plan for the Commonwealth to step in and recover water for the environment and to set up a new authority to manage the process, the MDBA. The Policy and Planning Division began working on the National Plan for Water Security (Australia. Prime Minister. & Howard, J, 2007); R. James, personal communication, 2016). The Policy and Planning division of the MDBA is concerned with the overall Basin, whereas other groups are looking at particular sites, most significantly wetlands. Russell James, Executive Director of Policy and Planning, told me that they have a “committee-type approach” to the evaluation and try to ensure that the public investment in environmental outcomes is responsibly managed (R. James, personal communication, 2016). Six governments (Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, Australian Capital Territory and the federal government) are involved in the river system's overall management. Each has a different perspective on how to manage the system (R. James, personal communication, 2016). David Dreverman, Executive Director of River Management, MDBA, explained that the federal government manages the competing demands of the different states. When one state wants more, it generally comes at the cost of the other states, and the process of having states agree is complicated by the first Murray River Agreements of 1915, which stipulates that every decision is made by consensus and not by a majority vote (D. Dreverman, personal communication, 2016). In the Australian constitution, water remains within the jurisdiction of the states, so “the Commonwealth can 160 influence and lead, and fund, and achieve its leadership through funding, but it cannot direct” (D. Dreverman, personal communication, 2016). However, in developing the MDB plan, the states did voluntarily defer some powers to the Commonwealth to allow the Basin plan to happen. The MDBA, for example, reviews the progress of the states in meeting their objectives in shared agreements (D. Dreverman, personal communication, 2016). The MDBA also has a stakeholder engagement plan that includes consultations with many actors. In this list, Dreverman included the commonwealth government, which owns the water, the Minister for Agriculture and Water Resources, and the Department of Agriculture and Water Resources. The Department of the Environment has significant influence because they control the sizeable environmental water portfolio. The MDBA also identified over 100 stakeholder groups which are listed on their site, including people living in the basin and the broader Australian community, industry, conservation, recreation and community groups, local governments, Indigenous peoples, Basin Community Committee, Basin Officials Committee, state government agencies and departments, Commonwealth Government agencies and departments, and scientific, technical and policy, and science & research communities (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2009). Russell James of the MDBA explained that they always have a public consultation process whenever they review or amend the MDBA plan. The MDBA has regular meetings with the National Irrigation Council and the largest irrigator group in the Basin, the NSW Irrigators Council (R. James, personal communication, 2016). As we see from the above, the government often points to democratic processes (i.e., consultations and outreach) as proof of democratic engagement. However, they also typically fail to acknowledge asymmetrical power imbalances. Democratic pragmatism 161 suggests that where institutional structures (like regulatory bodies and planning committees) are firmly in place, democratic problem-solving should be inclusive and effective, but that was not the case in the MDB. In Griffith, for instance, community members were so upset with how the plan was delivered to the community that they took the MDBA reform plans and burnt them as a public protest. Farmer Barry Kirkup described the plan as a “huge, huge shock,” and the reaction against the MDBA plan led to large meetings within the communities of Griffith and Deniliquin (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). While the drought propelled the government to move forward with the plan, it was proposed right when the drought was ending, and farmers were looking forward to finally having access to water and recovering their businesses. According to Kirkup, the community felt that the government’s response to the drought was a “kneejerk” reaction (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). In the minds of farmers, the plan felt like some arbitrary punishment because they had not been able to prevent the impacts of drought through previous water reform. Democratic pragmatism was born from a desire to make administration more flexible and responsive to varied circumstances. However, the main impetus of democratic pragmatism is a desire to secure legitimacy for decisions involving a broader population (Dryzek, 2013). In line with democratic pragmatism, the meetings and institutional structures in place for consultation suggest that there were many opportunities for farmers to be included in the process, so it is important to ask why farmers routinely felt their positions were ignored. Interviews with government officials revealed that their attempts at consultation were not well received, but there was a great deal of doubt as to whether anything could change. While many in the farming community acknowledged attempts by 162 the government to consult, there was also a general feeling that the consultations were more of a political imperative or a legal responsibility than an effort to reform policy collaboratively. Efforts to include this subset of the population can thus be seen as a failure. My research suggests that while some of the consultations were indeed tokenistic, many of the shortcomings in the consultation process came from the disciplinary effects of democratic pragmatism itself. For example, while the government sometimes made sincere efforts, there was no systemic effort to identify and address asymmetrical power imbalances that hinder the democratic process. This is a failure of democratic pragmatism, which assumes equality among citizens (Dryzek, 2013). As a result, the efforts by the government appeared intentionally tokenistic and dismissive at worst. The following subsections explore these internal disciplines of democratic pragmatism and their effects on the process. Democratic Pragmatism in Action The discourse of democratic pragmatism assumes that when individuals can participate in democratic processes, positive outcomes will follow. However, individuals always face barriers, largely unacknowledged in democratic pragmatism. Democratic pragmatism does not recognize the hierarchal structures of power of participants and how these impact their capacity or willingness to participate. In this section, I identify four barriers to democratic participation that my research shows were unaddressed in the consultation process. First, there were physical barriers to democratic engagement, which included being unable to attend meetings or travel to metropolitan areas to participate in important consultations. Second, there were identified 163 knowledge barriers like being unable to access information and data vital to actively participating in the consultation process. Government agents sometimes denied access to or presented data to farmers they could not interpret and understand. Farmers did not have the same access to knowledge, or their knowledge was not considered. Third, there were barriers related to social position and the social hierarchies of power that exist in society. These had a disciplinary effect on the capacity of farmers to represent themselves as legitimate authorities. Social hierarchies and public perceptions of farmers sometimes contributed to devaluing their knowledge and input in the consultation process. Last, there were time barriers that affected the democratic process. Political pressures to show progressive change within tight political timeframes limited the capacity for comprehensive democratic participation. The discourse of democratic pragmatism is a limiting view of democratic engagement and participation. Without active attention to the limitations associated with democratic pragmatism, even well-meaning policymakers can be prevented from achieving more authentic, deliberative, democratic outcomes. Physical Barriers There were significant physical barriers to democratic engagement in the MDB. Farmers told me about cases where they could not attend meetings in town or travel to far-away metropolitan areas to participate in important consultations. These physical barriers were accompanied by psychological ones. Interviews revealed that farmers often felt intimidated by the consultation process. The bureaucracy was intimidating, even without the threat of water being taken away. While some farmers believed it was simply an oversight that government representatives do not usually meet in the farmer's environments, others 164 thought it was a deliberate attempt to avoid consultation as it is difficult for farmers to travel to Canberra or Sydney. Some government representatives understood these barriers and, in a few cases, attempted to meet with farmers on their land. A few months before our interview, MDBA senior economist Phil Townsend visited Debbie Buller’s farm. Townsend rode the tractor around the farm with Debbie’s husband, Stuart. While in his own space, Stuart could clearly explain his problems to Phil. When farmers are in a meeting room, out of their comfort zone, they can feel intimidated and unable to express their concerns. Buller believes that farmers have been raised with a strong respect for authority, and the fact that the government holds all the power over their access to water makes them intimidated in large meetings (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Similarly, farmer Gary Knagge has had high-profile decision-makers come to his farm. Most visitors told him they had never been on a farm, even though many were making big decisions about funding research for agriculture. “[T]hey brought their shiny asses there, and they had been taught everything in the classroom and had no real grounding of what people in the country are really trying to do” (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). He continued, “It’s like the person who read the book on how to swim, passed the exam on how to swim, but when they got in the water, they drowned.” Knagge said that decision-makers are too much in the theoretical world, and they don’t get mud on their boots enough to see what actually happens at the grassroots level. He told me the story of a woman who came with a group from the city but could not walk across the lawn because she was wearing stilettos (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). 165 Reaching out to farmers on their land and demonstrating a knowledge of country living lends legitimacy to politicians and bureaucrats. A willingness to engage within a farmer's space reflects a recognition of the power dynamics at play. Spaces impact the quality and level of participation in consultations. Farmers spend most of their lives on their farms, so it is important to recognize how taking them out of their own spaces will have a range of unintended consequences. We cannot assume that an office or a hotel meeting area is a neutral zone, particularly for people who spend most of their time outside. Similarly, power is impacted by the social dynamics that spaces represent. Physical and accompanying psychological barriers can be a significant impediment to authentic deliberation. In chapter five, I explain how community-centrism discourse proposes overcoming some of these challenges. Knowledge-based Barriers Knowledge-based barriers also represented a significant challenge to authentic participation in the MDB. One such barrier was a lack of access to information and data vital to actively participating in the consultation process. Another was how data was presented to farmers in ways they could not understand. In other cases, farmers were simply denied access to information. As a result, farmers did not have adequate access to knowledge and their own knowledge was often ignored. The first version of the Basin plan came out in 2010, on the heels of the drought. Most of the data used in the plan was based on computer models developed by the MDBA. However, computer models are only as good as the information used to create them. According to farmer Ian Mason, the irrigators asked several times for the government to 166 provide background about how the MDB computer models were developed. They were never given this information, leaving them frustrated. They knew what the MDBA’s models predicted, but they had no idea how the models were established. The irrigators wanted to understand how the models functioned so they could predict and limit third-party impacts, or what Mason calls the unintended consequences of releasing higher water flows (I. Mason, personal communication, 2016). Farmers were also frustrated that their knowledge was not used in the development of the models. They felt the consultation process should have begun at the initial modelling stages. A lack of effort to bring past knowledge into the plan created a lot of anger among farmers who had been working with the MDB Commission for years. Barry Kirkup explained that farmers were already giving up a percentage of water each year for the environment, reflecting a long-term slow change. Farmers felt there was little acknowledgment of what was done in the past or the progress made in water reform up to that point. They wanted to see how previous reforms were considered in developing and implementing new reforms, what difference they had made, and what further reforms they might be facing. The tight timeframes and lack of acknowledgment of previous reforms made under the guidance of the MDBC generated significant uncertainty and distrust of the government in the farmers I interviewed. The ways farmers and government representatives value certain kinds of knowledge also affect the democratic process. Many farmers said that while they had opportunities to engage, they did not feel their opinions were taken seriously. They felt that decisions had already been made, and the meetings were about listening to the government spokesperson, not about taking what farmers had to say seriously. “[O]ur opinions didn’t 167 seem to weigh as highly” (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). From the farmers’ perspective, local knowledge was ignored, and science was highly valued in the plan's development, even though the science was largely in its infancy (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Farmer testimonies were corroborated by Briscoe, a scientist and vocal critic of the plan. Briscoe argued that the framers of the Water Act conducted their modelling in a “highly secretive” manner: “The MDBA will run the numbers and the science behind closed doors and then tell you the result. The MDB Basin Plan process was not, in my view, an aberration which can be pinned entirely on the leadership of the MDBA board and management but intrinsic to the institutional power concentration that is fundamental to the Water Act 2007 (Briscoe, 2011).” He wrote: In all of my years of public service, often in very sensitive environments, I had never been subject to such an elaborate “confidentiality” process as that embodied in the preparation of the Guide to the Basin Plan. The logical interpretation was that the spirit of the Water Act of 2007 (environment first, science will tell, the Commonwealth government will decide, the people will obey) required such a process. The High-Level Panel told the Chair and CEO of the MDBA that they understood that this was what the Act dictated but that it was the role of senior civil servants to explain that this would not, and could not, work. We were given to believe that there was no appetite for such a message at higher levels in the government in Canberra. (Briscoe, 2011) For Briscoe, the Act demonstrated an extraordinary and unusual confidence in the role of science in determining environmental needs. The government appeared to stand 168 behind science rather than acknowledge the uncertain linkages between water use and environmental outcomes. A significant barrier to consultation was also that the government tended not to take seriously the level of knowledge about water reform within the farming community. It was only after a draft plan was released that submissions were called for, and people were asked to reply with their comments. There were thousands of submissions from councils, community organizations, businesses, irrigation groups and irrigators. Burge recalled that while there were thousands of submissions, they were treated with the same weight. The irrigators group she represented submitted a lengthy report representing 1600 to 2000 irrigators, but Burge believes it was given the same value as environmental groups that had a pro forma press button (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Farmers were also frustrated by government officials, who they believed were inadequately informed and could not talk about the issues that were important to farmers. Farmer Helon Dalton told me that while the MDBA often sent representatives to Griffith to speak with them, the representatives were not well informed about the situation and were unable to answer any questions. Dalton related how, at one such meeting, a representative had talked about water projections. Dalton ventured that he must have been working for the Bureau of Meteorology because the presentation centred on the fact that the dams were full and there was a lot of rain. This wasn’t news to the participants since everyone was inundated with flood waters at the time (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). When the group started asking questions about what happens to translucent/transparent flows,16 the 16 A transparent flow occurs in a regulated river system when inflows are passed through a regulating structure – usually a dam – to enable a near-natural flow pulse into the river system. A translucent flow is similar, however only a portion of the inflow volume is passed. 169 representative could not answer. Buller said that “representatives simply said they will note the question and get back to us, but they never did” (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Farmers interpreted the sending of ill-equipped representatives by the government as a tactic to avoid conflict with the community that ultimately undermined the government’s stated objective of authentic engagement. Sending representatives ‘ticks the consultative box,’ but an inability to answer questions or engage with farmers in discussions demonstrated a lack of concern for the outcome of the process. Farmer John Hand told me that he would also like to see farmers involved in water reform because it could help the government reduce the cost of implementation and achieve better environmental outcomes. Farmer John Bradford offered the analogy of someone who wants to catch fish, “if you are going to catch fish, you go and talk to a fisherman.” He told me that it makes no sense to pay someone with no experience of fishing to go fishing and have them tell fishermen what bait to use (J. Hand, personal communication, 2016). There is a tendency for governments to overlook their position of authority and power. This can act as a hindrance to acknowledging community-based knowledge. As was discussed in the chapter on administrative rationalism, the tendency to elevate scientific knowledge over farmer knowledge has consequences for policy reform. This tendency is highlighted in the ways that privileging certain types of knowledge has direct consequences for the democratic process itself. Knowledge-based constraints represented a significant barrier to the consultative process. The examples here demonstrate that the discourse and its practices fail to acknowledge the considerable effects of knowledge construction and dissemination on the consultative process and, consequently, on policy development. 170 Social Barriers The case of the MDB illustrates that there were barriers related to social position and the hierarchies of power that exist within society. These barriers had a disciplinary effect on the ways that farmers were able to represent themselves as legitimate authorities. As the following examples demonstrate, social hierarchies and public perceptions of farmers sometimes contributed to devaluing their knowledge and input in the consultative process. A significant social barrier to democratic engagement stemmed from historical tensions between the farm groups and the MDBA. Hostilities were exacerbated by several factors, especially by what farmers saw as a quick change in the government's approach, which represented an imminent and existential threat. The relationship between the parties resulted in the government taking an evasive approach, particularly with the community around Griffith. A history of distrust between the government and the locals there contributed to a breakdown in consultations. The consultation process in Griffith was complicated by a history of tension between the local Italian mafia and the government. When the Water Act was first introduced, it was necessary to initiate a consultation process. However, as Griffith areabased farmer Helon Dalton put it, “Griffith has a history of knocking people off. Griffith has a mafia here, and there are some very feisty people.” NSW politician Donald Mackay went missing from the car park of a hotel in Griffith on July 15, 1977. Though his body was never found, there was strong evidence to support the conclusion that he had been murdered. Dalton told me that even though most of it is “puff and wind,” government representatives do not want to come to Griffith and talk about water. She told me, “We are not the gentle type (we are, but a lot of people here aren’t). There are lots of threats,” and 171 she added jokingly, “we do murder people.” Of course, Dalton’s comments were tonguein-cheek, but the reputation of Griffith as a hotbed for organized crime and marijuana cultivation is well-known in Australia (Stuart & Shields, 2017). Farmer Barry Kirkup recalls that after being notified of the MDBA plan by the irrigation companies, the farmers were sent paperwork from the MDBA to explain it. The MDBA consultation period began on November 28, 2011, and ran until April 16, 2012 (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2019a). Some of the largest public meetings were attended by a few thousand people. Kirkup remembers that government officials tried to explain the plan, but it was never clearly understood, and the meetings often resulted in even greater confusion. According to Kirkup, the government had never before approached them in this dictatorial way. Until then, the farmers had believed that their water rights were secure, but the government’s approach indicated a complete change in policy. This change generated tremendous confusion and distrust and damaged the relationship between the farmers and government officials. Kirkup recalled that everyone was terrified that the government would acquire all rights to the water (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). The timing and approach of the meetings added to the feeling that the government was taking punitive action against the farmers. The meetings led to large protests and the burning of the MDBA plan in a bonfire. There were, in fact, no compulsory acquisitions included in the plan, but at the time, there was a great deal of uncertainty about what acquisitions would look like. The tensions between the farm groups and the MDBA are just one of the social barriers identified in my research. Social tensions also exist between farm groups and urban-based environmentalists. Russell James of the MDBA acknowledged that some 172 urban environmentalists have a lot of influence but do not necessarily understand rural environmental issues. He explained, “the more active environmental groups tend to be urban based. For this reason, there is a risk of chardonnay swimming types…or the citybased people who actually don’t understand the river system.” His criticisms, however, were mainly directed at farmers who he thinks are only interested in protecting their farm businesses. “We get a lot of backlash from the farming community in terms of the influence of environmental groups. Farmer groups have asked why the environmentalists are getting into hearings when they aren’t the ones with millions of dollars invested in farm businesses.” He then commended what he sees as a “reasonable” fraction of farmers who support the plan, “there’s also a reasonable body of farmers that are actually what you might term ‘green,’ or environmentally aware and so they are very strong activists for a balanced approach to things and do support the Basin Plan” (R. James, personal communication, 2016). Such comments have a dichotomizing effect among farmers and government officials, among farmers and urban environmentalists, and within the farming community itself as it encourages social fragmentation between supporters of the plan and those who resist. Social dynamics lend legitimacy to some actors while undermining the legitimacy of other actors. As was the case of Griffith, social tensions embedded in the larger historical narrative had a significant impact on communications. As Australian rural communities contend with ever-greater environmental challenges, addressing the social discord that makes these types of negotiations all the more challenging will be essential. An alternative community-based model that seeks to address these concerns is explored in detail in chapter five. As the above examples illustrate, it is 173 imperative to pay attention to the underlying assumptions embedded in social relations among parties, as these have a very real effect on the democratic process. Otherwise, important democratic negotiations can appear as ‘window dressing’ instead of truly meaningful engagement. Time Barriers Finally, there were time barriers that affected the democratic process. Democratic pragmatism focuses on meeting certain consultative markers, like meeting with all the relevant actors. However, more authentic forms of participation can take time. Pressures to show progressive change within tight political timeframes can limit the capacity for comprehensive political participation to occur, resulting in a process that resembles an attempt to ‘tick the boxes’ required by participation rather than to engage in deeper processes. Further, the farmers were under pressure to recover their businesses after ten years of drought. Such pressures meant that they, too, were constrained by time. Time constraints led to decisions to release water flows without carefully examining the potential consequences for farmers. In one case, the hurried process wreaked havoc on the farm of Louis Burge. She points to the government’s expedited decision to release environmental water flows as the cause of flooding and significant damage to her crops. In 2010-11, when eight years of drought finally broke, the river system was naturally quite high due to significant unregulated flow from creek systems in the mountains. The river system’s water levels, which would typically have dropped down in November and December, remained unnaturally high. The MDBA and the state governments decided to put more environmental water down the system so water levels in the creeks did not drop. 174 When Burge had to harvest the wheat on the other side of the creek, she could not get the header across. When they finally succeeded, they were able to strip just a few header loads before five days of rain caused them to lose all the remaining wheat. Their overall losses exceeded $350,000. At the time, they were never told that water would be put down the system, yet they received no compensation for the resulting losses (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Burge ended up with one of the biggest personal losses in the whole of the Basin because of one decision by the government to artificially raise the river at Christmas time in the middle of harvest. As a result, she became one of the most vocal critics of the MDBA. She told me that eventually, all the relevant ministers came to know of their situation, and many even acknowledged there was a mistake. Still, no one would pay any compensation (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). The Burges, at the time of our interview, were still fighting to get the flow levels back to realistic levels and get a bridge or a crossing built, so they could access half their farm when the creek’s water levels were raised (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). In 2016, shortly after our interview, much of the Burge Farm was submerged by flooding and destroyed. The MDBA had again released excess water from the dams without consulting the farm community. The expedited process of establishing on-farm efficiency programs, with little consultation time, also significantly affected farm communities. From my research, it became clear that the water recovery goals of the MDBA were simply not possible as articulated in the plan, particularly within their politically motivated timeframes. While the government could buy up significant entitlements, the plan's overall goals could not be achieved without projects that could deliver equivalent environmental outcomes. Further, 175 the farming community was behind the push for efficiency projects. The government’s timeframes for these projects were perceived to be based on politics and not reality. When it came time to develop the projects, state governments did not have enough time to do so. This was especially true for NSW because it signed on to the Basin Plan later than the other states (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). There was simply no way to prepare multi-million-dollar projects with due diligence within unrealistic political timeframes. There is often a political imperative to show that governments are taking expedient steps to address a problem. At the same time, there are consequences for rushing consultative processes. The cases illustrated above demonstrate that it is not enough to have democratic processes in place; there must be time to ensure those processes work to achieve their goals without profoundly detrimental consequences for those most affected. Section conclusion Democratic pragmatism was associated with a narrow form of public engagement in the MDB. As I have argued, this engagement did not substantially impact political decisionmaking. Instead, it systemically marginalized farmers, which can be observed as a productive effect of a narrow reading of public engagement. Democratic pragmatism was limited in its consequences because it represented a shallow engagement effort. Just as significant, however, were the consequences of this discourse in practice. The application of democratic pragmatism revealed internal disciplines associated with the discourse coming to the fore. While efforts were made to engage in democratic consultations, for example, several barriers to participation were either overlooked or dismissed. The discourse of democratic pragmatism in the MDB has internal disciplines that hinder the 176 capacity of policymakers to engage in a truly democratic process. Ultimately, democratic pragmatism, with its adherence to the status quo, revealed how administrative rationalism provided the overarching framework for action in the MDB. Table 7 summarizes the transcripts, metaphors and rhetorical devices associated with democratic pragmatism in the MDB. It also points to policies, legislation and actions taken that were strongly influenced by this (minimal) discourse of democratic engagement. Table 7- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Democratic Pragmatism Discourses: Transcripts & Policy, Legislation and Actions in the MDB Transcripts (Scott, 1992), Metaphors and Policy, Legislation and Actions Taken Rhetorical Devices (Dryzek, 2012) Transcripts, words and actions associated with a particular role and set of beliefs. Includes metaphors, euphemisms, gestures, rhetorical devices, and linguistic habits. DEMOCRATIC PRAGMATISM -stakeholder engagement strategy -River Murray Commission (1917) -ticking the consultative boxes -MDB Commission (1985) -committee-type approach -MDBA Agreement (1992) -leadership through funding -Basin Community Committee -public consultation process -Basin Officials Committee -consultation -MDBA-led town hall meetings -outreach -bureaucracy Chapter Conclusion Viewing MDB management through administrative rationalism helps explain the government’s largely top-down approach to environmental water management. The discourse of administrative rationalism emerged to deal with the earliest water management challenges in the basin; these were primarily challenges related to salinity from the extensive irrigation systems. Management priorities shifted over time, but administrative rationalism's underlying assumptions and practices remained largely the same. As we have 177 seen, administrative rationalism has serious limitations, manifesting in the discourse's disciplinary and productive effects. This is evidenced by an inability to seek out and incorporate locally based knowledge in decision-making and in a language of government which privileges the knowledge of ‘experts’ over that of local populations. Over time and corresponding with changes in management regimes associated with neoliberalism more broadly, some of the assumptions of Dryzek’s (2013) economic rationalism are apparent in the problem definition and policy instruments enacted in the MDB. However, the evidence presented in section 3.2 shows that there was no wholesale adoption of market-based tools by the state and other MDB actors, as Dyrzek (2013) suggests has occurred in other contexts. Instead, the adoption of market-based instruments occurred mainly within the administrative rationalist frame. Economic reforms were still led by the government, and water trading was heavily influenced by government regulations. The federal government became the largest buyer and seller of water in the MDB in the wake of management reforms, further centralizing government control over water. As a result, some of the underlying limitations or weaknesses of administrative rationalism were compounded and exacerbated by the addition of these ‘market-based’ tools. These tools also came with their own problematic productive and disciplinary effects. For instance, a market-based system places a high value on all water. This high valuation meant that previously unused water suddenly entered the market as a tradeable ‘product.’ Water that had sat on farms and provided bird, fish, and wildlife habitat was now redirected toward more profitable ends. The adoption of economic rationalist terminology by the state did, however, lead to a new discursive response from farmers. Terms like ‘entitlement,’ ‘high value,’ and 178 ‘risk’ all have contested meanings. These phrases are used by the government to enforce the dominant paradigm, and the second section of this chapter (3.2) discusses the productive effects of these terms. At the same time, farmers have adopted some of these terms to challenge how the state interprets economic rationalism. The result was the emergence of a discourse of resistance couched in the language of economic efficiencies. Using this language was sometimes effective in drawing attention to farmers’ issues. The analysis of democratic pragmatism showed that MDB management attempted to create space for democratic engagement in the form of consultations, but these were minimal and largely inconsequential. What Dryzek refers to broadly as the problemsolving discourse of democratic pragmatism appears to have informed the inclusion of tools and practices that engaged citizens. The evidence showed that consultations did not significantly impact decision-making and were a far cry from more consequential and deliberative forms of democratic engagement farmers and other critics of MDB management believed should be in place to shape decisions. In other words, while the discourse of democratic pragmatism was employed by the state (and sometimes by farmers), consultation tools were often communication tools of the state rather than tools for democratic engagement. The adoption of these tools resulted in increased suspicion, an increased disconnect between farmers and government, and ultimately a farmers’ discourse of resistance that demands more inclusion and accountability to the people who live in the MDB, as will be discussed in greater detail in chapter five. We can see a nod to economic rationalism as demonstrated by the prioritization of individualism over community outcomes and a nod to democratic pragmatism as displayed through the limited mechanisms for democratic influence by key stakeholders. This 179 constellation of discursive factors was critical in creating a misalignment between what the MDB management plan under the Commonwealth Water Act of 2007 set out to do and the environmental results for the river basin and for the human and non-human communities that inhabit it. These discourses (and their disciplinary as well as productive effects) and practices (e.g., consultations, town hall meetings, stakeholder input requests, etc.) then met with the worst drought in Australia’s modern history to inform the creation of a new management plan for the MDB. The MDB plan, which entered into law in 2012, was rooted in the discourse of administrative rationalism (with the addition of MBIs) but also included very particular ontological assumptions about the human/nature relationship – specifically the construction of ‘environmental water’ and related concepts. This story is the focus of chapter four, which considers the productive effects of green environmentalism in the MDB. Ultimately, this chapter shows that while different environmental concerns rose to the fore over time, they were always dealt with through assumptions associated with administrative rationalism. Elements of economic rationalism, such as prioritization of individualism over community outcomes, and of democratic pragmatism, such as limited mechanisms for democratic influence by key stakeholders, were present but administrative rationalism represented the overarching discourse. This was critical in creating a misalignment between what the MDB management plan set out to do and the environmental results for the river basin, including impacts on the human and non-human communities that inhabit it. The story of how the impacted farming communities responded to this situation is the focus of chapter five. Before we get there, however, 180 chapter four discusses one final discourse, green environmentalism, to help explain what occurred in the MDB. 181 Chapter 4- Green Environmentalism The environmental problems facing the Basin are numerous. Most of the wetlands in the MDB are threatened by increasingly long periods of drought between ecologically imperative flood events. There are thousands of forests in the floodplains dying from lack of water. Water birds that require certain water levels for breeding are threatened with extinction. Native fish populations are rapidly declining, toxic blue-green algae blooms are ever more common, and salinity is becoming increasingly problematic (Pittock & Connell, 2010, p. 564). As set out in the Basin plan, the government’s response has been to redirect water from productive environments like farms to environmental purposes. As chapter three showed, a top-down, technocratic, and science-based approach can be explained by the historically prevalent discourse of administrative rationalism. However, there is another important piece of this story, and that is about how ‘nature’ has come to be understood and managed in Australia through a discourse that I call ‘green environmentalism.’ This chapter shows how green environmentalism initially emerged as a challenge to administrative rationalism (and its associated projects like large dams) through a specific understanding of ‘nature’ as separate and distinct from humans and their productive uses of land. This biocentric understanding of nature, which excludes people, is a departure from the other discourses. As the green discourse evolved, it became embedded within the established political order through the Green Party. However, green environmentalism came to be practiced in a way that reflected the overarching dominance of administrative rationalism. The implementation of green environmental practices also reflected (to varying degrees) the values extolled by economic rationalism and democratic pragmatism. 182 In sum, even though the aims of green environmentalism were originally distinct from the other discourses, the discourse has come to reflect many of the assumptions embedded in the other dominant discourses. For example, green environmentalism came to embody aspects of administrative rationalism, including its emphases on ‘expert’ planning, bureaucratic design, and ‘top-down’ solutions. The problem definitions of green environmentalism reflect these ideas, as highlighted in common transcripts such as ‘environmental protection,’ and ‘environmental water.’ What remains distinctive about green environmentalism, however, is the core assumption that economic growth is inherently exploitative of natural environments. The way to protect nature, therefore, is to create separate spaces away from human interference. In this way, it is important to explore green environmentalism as a distinct discourse with unique productive and disciplinary effects. Today, the prevailing resource management approach in the Basin, encapsulated in the transcript ‘environmental water,’ separates ecological health from productive land uses such as farming. Consequently, problem definitions center around the notion that the environment can only flourish if water is diverted from farming to nature. This chapter illustrates how environmental water and its associated management practices have certain productive effects. For example, the idea of environmental water constructs farms as landscapes that are only for raising crops and livestock and not as cultivated habitats that also bring benefits to wild species. ‘Nature’ is seen as something that does not require active management. Further, environmental water has the disciplinary effect of defining policy solutions narrowly, namely by assuming that despite high natural variability, certain levels of water are ‘normal,’ that ‘nature’ needs definite amounts for different purposes, 183 and that this water must come from farming to achieve environmental goals. This discourse also has significant disciplinary effects, such as conflating many environmental concerns with inadequate water volumes in rivers and dismissing efforts by farmers to increase the efficiency of water use in agriculture. Green environmentalism informs environmental reform in the Basin, and ‘environmental water’ encompasses the way government problematizes water management. Environmental water, as a problem definition, informs the kinds of policy prescriptions that are considered appropriate and acceptable to the government. In this way, green environmentalism, as exemplified by the transcript of ‘environmental water,’ has significant productive and disciplinary effects that are not explained by the other discourses I have examined so far. 4.1 Green Environmentalism in the MDB The environmental movement in Australia is best characterized by an ontological understanding that humans are separate from nature, a view that some Indigenous scholars are now challenging (Pascoe, 2018). This biocentric discourse fails to recognize that human beings have always had significant impacts on their environment (Bookchin, 1994). As such, the discourse has the disciplinary effect of downplaying the positive impacts that productive environments can have on the land. In Australia, the main response of the government to the Millennium Drought (1996-2009), as set out in the Murray-Darling Basin Plan, has been to redirect water from productive environments like farms and set aside water for environmental purposes. This response has been influenced by the nature preservationist movement, which emerged from the 1970s (Christoff, 2016). Australian preservationists drew inspiration from the American wilderness and biodiversity 184 conservation narratives (Classens, 2017), who expressed eco-centric values in an antimaterialist stance toward the industrialization of nature. This movement now defines the bounds of the modern Australian environment movement (Christoff, 2016). However, the movement’s conceptualization of a non-human nature is increasingly problematic. The environment movement in Australia emerged in the 1960s in response to widespread environmental degradation, pollution, and pressures on the natural world. From the 1960s through the 1970s, in the wake of Rachel Carson’s famous book Silent Spring, a series of campaigns were initiated to protect natural environments against development threats. The first green party in the world was the United Tasmania Group which was formed by members of The Lake Pedder Action Group. The Lake Peddler Group had sought to challenge the removal of national park status and protest the flooding of the south-west Tasmanian lake as part of a major hydroelectric project in the late 1970s (Kerr, 2013). The campaign against a dam that would have flooded the valley of Tasmania’s Franklin River mobilized tens of thousands of Australians and helped solidify the base of Australia’s environmental movement (Kerr, 2013). Bob Brown, who later became the leader of the Australian Greens in 2010, was a founding member of the Tasmanian Wilderness Society and its director in 1978. By 1982, 1500 protestors had been arrested by the state, including Brown (Kerr, 2013). Shortly after, in 1984, the Tasmanian Green Party was formally registered. Environmentalists later focused much of their energy on the Great Barrier Reef, hoping to protect it from mining and oil drilling. Community-driven support for the protection of the reef garnered national attention. During the 1980s, as the environmental movement grew to enjoy wide support, the environment became a major political issue. 185 After extended campaigning, some of Australia’s most significant wilderness areas were granted protection, and the federal government asserted its constitutional power to protect sites of World Heritage (A Brief History of the Australian Environmental Movement, 2014). Bob Brown wrote The Greens in the mid-1990s. The book sought to define the values of the party. Brown advanced a largely eco-centric philosophy. He wrote, “I am not a conventionally religious man, but in the wilderness, I have come closest to finding myself and knowing the universe and accepting God - by which I mean accepting all that I don’t know” (Brown & Singer, 1996). The origins of the Greens as a conservation-based movement led to their predominantly eco-centric philosophy. Hillier wrote, “The result was the development of an eco-centric philosophy that was, initially, central to green politics. An unstable amalgam of the romantic (which celebrates diversity, emotion and the encounter) and the scientific (which claims universality, law and rationality)” (Hillier, 2010, p. 2). The preservation of the natural world was central to the political ideology of the movement and to the early development of green politics, “In Australia, the practice of wilderness preservation, and the theoretical endeavor of environmentalists to establish a body of thought justifying this practice, was central to the early development of green politics. Many environmental activists were originally moved by the emotional and aesthetic impact of the ‘natural world’; determined to save it from human interference” (Hillier, 2010, pp. 1-2). It must be acknowledged that the green movement was a strong reaction to the’ business as usual’ economic environment of the 1970s and 80s. Unfettered economic expansion at the cost of the environment had devastating consequences. Efforts to protect areas like the great barrier reef, for example, were critical. Nonetheless, the green 186 movement grew out of Tasmania, an area of Australia with a very different development history than the mainland. The history of intense irrigation and European-style cultivation that had dominated New South Wales (NSW) for over a hundred years was much different than in Tasmania, where intense dam development did not begin until the 1970s. Nonetheless, the Greens managed to gain significant support on the mainland, primarily due to support from urban constituents. The federal election of 2001 represented the first significant breakthrough of the Greens. Their rise (to 5 percent of the popular vote) reflected a dissatisfaction with the Labour Party and the Liberals. Both parties generally showed little political will to counter some of the more detrimental neo-liberal reforms of the period. The Greens were able to garner support from middle-class voters by campaigning on social issues, which represented a shift away from the Party’s focus on environmental issues (Hillier, 2010, p. 13). While in the past Brown, for example, had argued that stopping population growth (including by way of immigration) would be essential for environmental protection, the refugee crisis compelled the Greens to take a more socially liberal approach to immigration and resettlement planning (Hillier, 2010, p. 14). The more progressive and vocal stance on immigration garnered the support of a wider voting base as the party was no longer seen as a ‘one-issue party.’ Changes in Australia’s electoral system secured the power of the Greens. Preferential voting under proportional representation gave the Greens the capacity to influence and even determine the outcome of the electoral contest between Labour and the Coalition (The Liberal–National Coalition is an alliance of centre-right political parties in Australia and one of the two major political parties) (Manne, 2010). According to Manne, 187 the rise of the Greens reflects “an expression of shifts in social consciousness or unresolved tensions in the political culture” (Manne, 2010). The national Green party was formed in 1992. The Party’s support base came mainly from the west of NSW and around Victoria, where questions of social equity, urban development and democracy were more central than wilderness preservation (Hillier, 2010, p. 7). The Australian Conservation Foundation (ACF), Australia’s foremost non-profit national environmental organization formed in 1965, focused the spotlight on the MDB and gained the support of the Greens. Under the leadership of Tim Fisher, the ACF has tried to change public perceptions about the sustainability of agriculture in the MurrayDarling Basin (Nahan, 2003). In 2000 the ACF published a report called National Investment in Rural Landscapes (2000). Funded by the Land and Water Rural Research Development Corporation (LWRRDC), the report asserted that “the annual cost of degradation in rural landscapes is at least $2 billion annually, and this figure is rising. With no action, this could balloon to over $6 billion annually by 2020”. The report advised that a capital investment of $60 billion, with an ongoing maintenance program of $0.5 billion, was required over a ten-year period. This represents a total investment of around $6.5 billion per year. The ACF’s arguments also appeared in a 2001 report called Repairing the Country by the Allens Consulting Group (2001). The WWF, under the Wentworth Group of Concerned Scientists, soon joined the campaign for the Murray-Darling Basin (MurrayDarling threatened river, 2007). Under pressure from the green movement and calls for reform in the wake of the Millennium drought (1996-2009), the government of Australia effectively took control over water rights in Australia by enforcing the Water Act and guaranteeing 2750 GL for 188 the environment (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2014a). Citing their responsibility under the Ramsar Convention, their capacity to access the best available science, to manage water markets across state boundaries and to conduct appropriate socio-economic studies, the national government took greater control over water resources through the International Agreement on a National Water Initiative (2004). The Council of Australian Governments ceded control over water to the national government. While this change was presented as politically neutral, giving greater powers to the federal government undermined the Australian constitution, which accords water rights to state governments (Commonwealth Consolidated Acts, 2019). According to the national government, state governments acknowledged that water is an issue of national significance. The Intergovernmental Agreement on a National Water Initiative (2004) states that the 1994 Council of Australian Governments (COAG) water reform framework and subsequent initiatives indicate that Australia’s water resources would be better managed under the national government. The federal government focused on wetlands they deemed largely unaffected by development.17 Since the drought, the focus has been on protecting wetlands by taking water out of agricultural production. The MDB received support for this approach to water reforms from a wide range of actors, including scientific bodies, conservation groups, and academics. The Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO) (an Australian Government agency responsible for scientific research) allied with the MDB (Murray- 17 It is interesting to note that ecological character, as described by the Ramsar Convention are not exclusive of human managed systems. At any point in time, regardless of past human interventions, sites can be listed as protected sites. While the green movement in Australia emphasizes ‘nature’ as separate from people, Ramsar does not make these kinds of distinctions and has protected several wetlands that have been heavily impacted by human activity, including wetlands that serve as rice paddies in Vietnam. 189 Darling Basin Authority, 2021d). The green movement, with direction from the Australian Conservation Foundation (ACF) and the World-Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), provided the drive toward federal government-led water reform in the country. In addition, several scholars of the MDB have supported this approach, arguing that the government is best positioned to manage the crisis (Grafton & Horne, 2014; Pollino et al., 2021; Ross et al., 2002). As evidenced by the involvement of a wide range of environmental actors, the government gained widespread support for its approach to MDB management. Green environmentalism leads to a particular way of understanding and defining problems. For example, in policy terms, the government constructed the idea of environmental water to differentiate between water intended for human and environmental use. According to the government of South Australia, for instance, water for the environment is water allocated to meet the ecological needs of plant and animal communities to survive and reproduce or “water allocated purely to the environment and not extraction” (Government of South Australia Department of Environment and Water, 2016). The water is specifically used for nature, independent of people. The MDBA calls environmental water “water for the environment,” which is... …used to improve the health of our rivers, wetlands and floodplains. Water is allocated to federal and state environmental water holders across the Basin, who make decisions about when, where and how much water is released for the environment, and with measurable environmental outcomes in mind (MurrayDarling Basin Authority, n.d.). 190 These definitions separate environmental water from water used for agricultural or productive purposes and seek to define water for environmental purposes as distinct from water used on farms. Calls to save the Murray-Darling Basin from the impacts of agriculture are now widespread, and academic literature on water management in the MDB tends to be based on the assumption that farmers are unconcerned about environmental impacts. For instance, Mallawaarachchi et al. (2020) write, “Recurring droughts and resultant scarcity of water have made negotiations further complicated and controversial, broadening the gulf between environmentalists seeking public good outcomes and irrigators seeking private profit.” Some researchers charge farmers with only being concerned with profits (Crase et al., 2014 & Ross et al., 2002), while others argue that farmers were primarily responsible for the environmental problems in the Basin (see Grafton & Horne, 2014). Questions of whether humans are part of nature and whether human actions and their consequences are ‘natural’ call into question the preservationist ethic central to green environmentalism. These questions are increasingly important for modern environmentalism to revisit as technological innovations and the impacts of human actions commodify and reconfigure the non-human world at every level (Christoff, 2016). Although the environmental movement in Australia appears to have yet to wrestle with these issues, nature has long been ‘denaturalized’ in academic circles. Since the 1990s, the term ‘nature’ has been problematized by various thinkers (e.g., McKibben, 1989; Oelschlager, 1991; Cronon, 1995; Soper, 1995; Vogel, 2015). These scholars argue that nature is inseparable from human communities. While the pristine natural beauty of the countryside is valued, productive and natural spaces are no longer distinct. As Vanclay and 191 Lawrence argue in The Environmental Imperative (Monk, 1997), for farmers, the natural world is not external to the social world. The social and ecological problems in the Basin are inseparable. From this perspective, productivity does not necessarily undermine the natural ecology of the land. In its campaigns to save ecosystems and species from the impacts of destructive industrial practices, the green movement’s staple discourse largely remains a preservationist one, despite the turn towards a denaturalized nature in academic writing. This movement still builds on the romantic tradition of valuing pristine nature – a nature largely unchanged by humans (Christoff, 2016). Yet, colonization, and indigenous settlement before, transformed Australia’s natural environment (Pascoe, 2017). Now, with climate change further refashioning ecosystems at an accelerating rate, it is hard to understand precisely what the environmental movement is now trying to protect. The movement’s seemingly straightforward relationship with nature is growing increasingly uncertain, and its identity as nature’s defender is increasingly unstable (Christoff, 2016). In sum, green environmentalism has become the overarching paradigm that informs environmental reform in the Basin, and environmental water has become the dominant policy response to water management problems. However, as this work argues, the paradigm is problematic as there is increasing uncertainty regarding what exactly needs protection. While recognizing the valuable contribution the green movement has made towards MDB management, the discourse has effectively undermined the key role farmers can play in environmental management. My analysis provides a clear case study of the impacts of an environmental discourse that separates nature from human communities. MDBA policy separates environmental water from water used for productive purposes on 192 farms. This approach is rooted in the green movement in Australia and legally backed by Australia’s signatory status in Ramsar. Several examples in this chapter illustrate how the green perspective impacts problem definitions and policy prescriptions and is often at odds with the perspectives of farmers who find it impossible to understand the separation of human and ‘natural’ environments. This distinction is explored in this chapter and the next. The latter sheds light on how farmers see the human and ecological aspects of communities as inseparable. But first, I turn to the Ramsar Convention. This Convention provided much of the legal justification for the government’s protectionist approach. While the focus on wetlands protection was an important and welcome development, it also reinforced biocentric arguments that downplayed the positive role that farming communities could play in managing water resources in the Basin. 4.2 The Role of Ramsar in Establishing the Basin Plan The Green party shaped the modern Australian environmental movement as a political force. As a result, it came to have a significant influence on public policy by the early 2000s. The Green party’s push for water reform contributed to the development of the Water Act and the Basin Plan. Australia’s signatory status as part of the Ramsar Convention (the international treaty for wetlands protection) served as legal justification for the decision to offer wetland protection (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2014b). The Ramsar Convention is a multilateral environmental treaty signed in Ramsar, Iran, in 1971 and came into force in 1975. Citing its obligations under the Convention and its access to the best available science, the government was able to gain more control over water resources through the National Water Initiative (2004). The Water Act and the Basin plan 193 derive their constitutional validity from these international agreements (La Nauze & Carmody, 2012). If the Basin plan does not meet international obligations, it could be considered invalid (La Nauze & Carmody, 2012). Ramsar provided a critical enforcement mechanism for the Basin plan and justified federal intervention in what is constitutionally a state-led policy jurisdiction. This represented a reframing of the water management problem as a key priority and responsibility of the federal government. According to the Ramsar Convention, a wide range of habitats can be classified as wetlands, both ‘natural’ and man-made. Wetlands include swamps, marshes, billabongs, lakes, salt marshes, mudflats, mangroves, coral reefs, fens, peat bogs, and bodies of water. Waters within these environments can be static or flowing, brackish or saline, and can also be inland rivers and coastal or marine water to a depth of six meters at low tide (Australian Government Department of the Environment and Energy, 2019b). When a Ramsar site is established, countries form management frameworks aimed at ensuring its ‘wise use,’ which is broadly defined as maintaining the ecological character of the wetland. The ‘ecological character’ is “the combination of the ecosystem components, processes, benefits and services that characterise the wetland at a given point in time.” That given point of time is the point at which the site is listed, regardless of past conditions (Australian Government Department of the Environment and Energy, 2019b). It is interesting to note that ‘ecological character,’ as described by the Ramsar Convention, is not exclusive to human-managed systems. At any point in time, regardless of past human interventions, sites can be listed as protected sites. Thus, while the green movement in Australia emphasizes ‘nature’ as separate from people, Ramsar does not make these kinds of distinctions and has protected several wetlands that have been heavily impacted by human 194 activity (particularly wetlands that also serve as rice paddies in Vietnam). Nonetheless, the Australian government focused on areas they deemed largely unaffected by development. Ramsar took precedence over rules in the Australian constitution that assign the right to control water to the states. As discussed in chapter one, the government effectively took control over water rights by enforcing the Water Act and guaranteeing 2750 GL for the environment (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2014a). The Council of Australian Governments ceded control over water to the national government but was able to negotiate - to some degree - what the reform process would look like. While this change was presented as politically neutral, some farmers I spoke with argued that giving greater powers to the federal government undermined the Australian constitution, which accords water rights to state governments (Commonwealth Consolidated Acts, 2019). According to the national government, state governments acknowledged that water is an issue of national significance. The Intergovernmental Agreement on a National Water Initiative (2004) claimed that the 1994 Council of Australian Governments (COAG) came to an agreement that the management of Australia’s water resources is a national issue. The Intergovernmental Agreement states that because of this recognition, States and Territories have made considerable progress toward more efficient and sustainable water management. States and territories embarked on a significant program of reforms to their water management regimes. Regulatory measures such as setting extraction limits in water management plans and specifying the conditions for the use of water in water use licenses were undertaken. These jurisdictions would also continue to examine the feasibility of using market-based mechanisms such as pricing to account for positive and negative environmental consequences associated with water use. Further, they implemented pricing 195 that includes environmental costs (which are referred to as externalities in the agreement), where it was “found to be feasible” (COAG, 2004). Directing the course of reforms, the federal government situated itself as best able to make decisions based on science and socio-economic studies. Using the Ramsar Convention as further justification, the national government brought water management largely under its control. The question of what constituted an environment, and the details of the government’s environmental goals were important to farmers who understood the impact that the plan would have in their communities. The modern history of the MDB is characterized by broad and far-reaching changes to the environment for the purposes of development. Therefore, it was unclear to farmers what the government’s end goal was in restoring natural systems. The MDB is a highly modified system, with much of the land converted to productive irrigated agriculture over the last hundred years. While there are many marshlands, most were established after the dams were built and the river system was modified. Further, the lower lakes were converted from saltwater to freshwater estuaries with the construction of weirs. While many people conceive of the environment as a natural space free from human interventions, the reality in NSW is, in fact, quite different. Farmers challenged the government’s view that some sites- and not othersdeserved environmental protection under the Ramsar convention. One of the most significant critiques made by farmers was that the plan did not consider the environmental value of farms. They saw their farms as part of Australia’s natural landscapes and themselves as caretakers within those environments. They resented that so much water was being taken out of the system for wetlands and environmentally protected sites when their own farms demonstrated many of the same attributes as these 196 protected sites. Farmer Debbie Buller remarked, “this whole idea that agriculture and environmentalism are on opposite sides of the spectrum is insane. Aren’t we part of the environment?” (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Farmers said they consider themselves environmental stewards, caring for the abundance of wildlife on their farms, including frogs, birds and other species. Further, it was evident that many of the natural environments the government wanted to provide water to were contested in terms of their status as natural environments. The Ramsar convention, as justification for these decisions, was often called into question. In what follows, I explain how farmers are constructed in green environmental discourse. I then show how farmers challenge this dominant frame from within green environmental discourse while also sometimes challenging it from outside the discourse. 4.3 Constructing ‘Farmers’ in Green Environmental Discourse Green environmental discourse has generally characterized farmers in a negative light. Such characterizations have significant productive and disciplinary effects on problem definitions and policy solutions. Farmers, consequently, seek to resist this discourse from both within the discourse itself and outside of it. Further, while there are certainly farms with a large ecological footprint, there is a tendency to lump all farms together in terms of thinking about environmental effects, a view that farmers seek to challenge. Russell James of the MDBA acknowledged that while the farm community is not a homogenous group, he also believes there are some farmers who are adamantly opposed to the plan. He understands their opposition to the plan as a disregard for environmental interests. He told me, “There’s some very big players in the industry, who are just pushing for more and 197 more water to be available and make more money. They couldn’t give a stuff about the environment, and they would like the government to pay for everything that they do” (R. James, personal communication, 2016). At the other end of the spectrum, James told me that they have what he calls “responsible farmers, who understand we live in a variable climate, understand we have droughts, understand those resources needs be looked after, that there’s a limit to how much you can take out of it.” He congratulated some farmers for taking the initiative to set up environmental water groups themselves in order to look at the system in a holistic way (R. James, personal communication, 2016). While James recognizes that farmers are not a homogenous group, and some act in an environmentally responsible manner, he expresses a popular opinion that farmers do not care. He also conflates opposition to the plan as opposition to environmental initiatives generally. From farmers, the perspective that they do not care about the environment reflects an urban disconnect with rural life. Farmer Allen Clark believes the divergence in views can be attributed to a lack of understanding on the part of city people about the challenges of farmers and their way of life (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). In previous eras, most people knew someone living on a farm, but today most people who live in cities do not visit farms. Further, city dwellers tend to view farms as exclusively productive spaces. The rift in the views of city dwellers and farmers is readily apparent in the remarks of farmers who report feeling verbally attacked and who are prone to do their own share of attacking too. Farmer Debbie Buller joked, “in the city, you have Gladis Stringbag, who votes for the greens and says those bastard farmers are using all the water, and there is nothing for the environment.” Buller explained that such an attitude implies there is no environment where the farmers are and that there is a clear delineation of environment and 198 agriculture (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Buller attributes the lack of understanding of rural farm communities directly to the rise of the green movement. She recalled that when she and her husband Stuart started farming, representatives from the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organization (CSIRO) used to come to the farm and, wearing their gumboots, worked with them on the paddock. She told me that no longer occurs (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Buller believes that the government’s change in approach is related to the green movement's view that farms are not environmental spaces. Those in farm communities tend to believe that people in cities, particularly government representatives, do not understand the relationship that farmers have with the land. During the visit of a government employee to Buller’s farm, Dalton witnessed Buller’s husband pick up a handful of soil and smell it. The government employee asked Buller what he was doing. She explained that he is able to assess the quality of the soil from the smell; “there is a particular microbe in the soil that gives it a certain smell, and the farmers are able to check the biology of the soil by the smell” (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Buller added that farmers care deeply and even “worship” the land (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). When talking about the environment, it is evident that Dalton and Buller appeal to the romanticism prevalent within green discourse. The farmer tries to accentuate their deep connection to the land and reframe themselves as environmentalists. This is an example of farmers’ resistance within the established discourse. The green perspective focuses on romantic notions about natural spaces, and the deep connection people can share with the land. Farmers appeal to this dominant green discourse to undermine the authority of government officials by elevating their own 199 connections to the land. For example, farmer Helon Dalton remarked, “you have to get a bit of dirt under your nails and understand a bit about the land” (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Farmers like Louis Burge seek to redefine themselves as environmentalists by using the language common to green environmental discourse. Burge supports any kind of environmental policy that stops destruction, for example, including the protection of areas from urban sprawl or mining. These comments reflect the protectionist ethic that originally defined the green movement. She believes that regarding farms, another approach to the environment is warranted because there are elements of natural habitats within agricultural landscapes. In this way, Burge challenges aspects of the green environmental discourse from within the discourse itself. She seeks to reposition farms as part of the natural system and farmers as environmental stewards. Further, she wants environmentalists to see the need for human interventions in natural systems, thus presenting a direct challenge to green environmental discourse. In the case of natural bushland settings, for example, she argues that there is a need for human interventions like controlled burning. While people think they must protect nature by “locking it up and leaving it alone, this can be a terrible mistake” (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). The value of farming is lost in the space that exists between consumers and producers. Like in Karl Marx’s critique of commodity fetishism, the social relationships between people are reduced to economic transactions, and both the consumer and the producer become abstract concepts, far removed from the mind of the other as part of their concrete reality. My research points to this ever-widening divide which leads to many misconceptions about the ‘other.’ Contrary to common perceptions, my study suggests that 200 farmers share many of the same environmental values as city dwellers, but they question how environmental values and natural spaces are defined. Negative perceptions, whether of farmers or city dwellers, has a dichotomizing effect on policy recommendations and outcomes in the MDB. The green discourse has defined water as either an environmental or productive asset, not both. As such, the policy recommendations that stem from that approach tend to reinforce the already established rift between city dwellers and farmers, who both see themselves as environmentalists. In what follows, I demonstrate how green discourse, has both productive and disciplinary effects on policy choices. 4.4 Farmers Challenging the Discourse Challenging Assumptions about Natural Systems Farmers challenge the discourse in the MDB in several ways. The government’s position was that a significant increase in the volume of water available for the environment was essential to ward off environmental collapse caused by climate change. Farmers, however, contested the science and argued that the Australian climate was subject to longer-term climate cycles than were considered in the plan's development. Both sides, however, agree that a cyclicity needed to be considered to determine what was ‘normal’ and what actions were required. While the drought lasted ten years, farmers pointed to its eventual end and preceding years of heavy rain as evidence of cyclical patterns of drought and flooding. The government argued that drought would become the new norm because of climate change. While this appears to be a purely technical debate, it is significant for the future of the MDBA because defining ‘natural’ climate systems provides the basis for understanding what future systems should look like. This is an example of how both parties work within 201 the discourse of green environmentalism to advance their interests. The perceived goal is an ideal state of nature that precludes human interference. Mike Makin of the MDBA explained that while there is a common cliché that Australia is the land of drought and flooding rains, the variation of the river systems is among the highest in the world and so lends truth to the cliché. However, he believes the shift in climate over the last forty years has altered the patterns and projections of what they are likely to experience (M. Makin, personal communication, 2016). Similarly, David Dreverman, also of the MDBA, believes that it is the extent of water scarcity that has caused the government to reset all their water management arrangements, particularly around the dry sequences (D. Dreverman, personal communication, 2016). According to Makin and Dreverman, the script farmers use to describe Australia’s climate, “the land of drought and flooding rain,” is an attempt to disregard efforts to improve the environment. Farmers I spoke with, however, rejected such claims. They questioned the plan's logic because the federal government’s conception of the climactic system did not fit with farmers’ understanding of Australia’s environment. However, neither party sought to undermine the fundamental assumptions embedded in the discourse, that nature has an ideal condition, we must strive to realize. Both groups also prioritize the importance of expert knowledge and scientific data in decision-making. In line with administrative rationalism, both parties sought to establish themselves as the experts on climate cycles. Hilary Johnson of the MDBA told me that many farmers have said that they do not understand the problem the government is trying to solve, mainly because droughts are a natural part of the system in Australia. Johnson explained that the government had based its approach on science that shows a long-term decline in species 202 and communities across the Basin. This plan was prepared as a result of a public consultation and submission process that showed a decline in species and negative impacts on communities. The Authority prepared a draft plan which formed the basis of the public consultation process. A twenty-week period was allowed to receive briefings on the draft plan, attend round tables and public meetings, and prepare submissions in response to the plan. Almost 12,000 submissions were received. The Authority reviewed these submissions and made changes to the draft plan (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2019g).18 The available scientific evidence, however, relies on contested assumptions. Hilary Johnson explained that the scientific evidence points to a long-term decline across water-dependent ecosystems. For Johnson, the problem was not managing drought but planning for the potential impacts of increasing drought (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). However, without conclusive evidence to determine the natural cycle, it is impossible to prove that present conditions are worsening. The current way of defining the problem, in line with green environmental discourse, tries to define what a ‘natural’ system looks like. As evidenced in debates in the scientific community (as I will explain), there is currently no consensus, however, on what these natural systems are. Many farmers saw themselves as highly knowledgeable regarding climate patterns. The older irrigators told the younger irrigators that they had seen all these climate patterns previously, which perpetuated an atmosphere of doubt about climate change generally. Tree rings and other indicators helped scientists and irrigators determine cycles, but 18 A summary of the submissions, how the MDBA addressed those submissions and the resulting changes to the proposed Basin plan were published on the website in the Proposed Basin Plan consultation report – May 2012. According to the process outlined in the Water Act, the Authority was also required to seek comments from members of the Murray–Darling Basin Ministerial Council. Ministers had six weeks to respond to the Authority on the draft plan (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2019g). 203 historical records were incomplete and only dated some two hundred years. No one predicted that after the long dry period, they would have two major floods in two years (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). There was no agreement in the farm community about the nature of climate change or if it was affecting the natural cycles of Australia’s climate at all. While the economic implications of the plan certainly contributed to resistance, farmers were also so used to drought that they generally saw it as a normal condition that could be managed. Figure 3 indicates the level of rainfall over the last century. Aside from the major variation in precipitation during the Millennium Drought or the ‘big dry,’ we see that there does not appear to be a distinct pattern regarding rainfall and climate in Australia. The unpredictability of climate, unclear scientific evidence, and knowledge passed down generationally all fed into very different interpretations about what the climate cycle in Australia looks like. These factors, combined, contributed to a view among farmers that the available evidence does not support the position, or the initiatives undertaken by the government. Figure 3 does not reflect any clear cyclical weather patterns in the Australian case. Figure 3- Australian Government: Bureau of Meteorology: Rainfall amounts in the MDB. 204 Farmer Louis Burge believes that the severity of the Millennium Drought can be compared to the federation drought of 1895 to 1903 and another major drought in the 1930s and 40s, pointing to a cyclical pattern. Farmer Helon Dalton cited historical records that drought was unexceptional. For example, when Captain Cook first arrived in Australia in 1770, the land was amid a twenty-year drought on the east coast. Further, there was a big drought in the 1890s and another in 1902-03. There were also drought years in the 1940s and a drought in 1982 (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Farmer Bernard Walsh believes that the MDB is headed toward an over-commitment of the river but takes issue with the fact that the plans were drawn up in a “one-in-a-hundred year” drought situation which no one had experienced before. Walsh guesses that the climate in Australia might be a one-in-a-hundred-year cycle because the last extended and severe drought was from about 1890. For Walsh, using the worst drought years as a benchmark for increasing water flows did not make sense (B. Walsh, personal communication, 2016). These farmers believe, in several variations, that severe droughts are just part of the natural system in Australia. The federal government’s depiction of the drought problem made farmers even more resistant to their scientific conclusions. One prominent scientist, Tim Flannery, talked to farmers about climate change. According to Dalton, in one such meeting, Flannery told the irrigators' group that it would never rain again and the dams in the snowy mountains would never fill again. She recalled, Tim Flannery, he’s got a book out called the ‘Weather Makers,’ and he was the climate commissioner. He’s an anthropologist. People prostitute themselves for the 205 money. He was paid to tell us about climate change, and we were dovetailing in this Millennium Drought, so we were believing them. It was a really grim time for everyone. (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016) Remarks from scientists like Flannery caused great alarm within the community, with many farmers believing they would never farm again. The presentations of government-hired scientists were perceived in such a way as to cause significant discord. Some farmers responded by deciding to exit farming altogether, while others became entirely dismissive of scientists like Flannery because they painted such a fatalistic picture of the situation. The government may have intended to incite action and cooperation within the farm communities but instead created further divisions between farm communities and the government. Such distrust of the government was further exacerbated when the end of the drought brought the heaviest rains in Australia’s recorded history. At the time of my interviews in 2016, the communities were reeling from extensive damage caused by flooding. The farms in the region had lost millions of dollars from flooding. The extensive rainfall, and the significant losses, further solidified distrust in the farm community about how much government officials understood climactic cycles in Australia. It is difficult even to begin a reform process when there is no real agreement on the nature of the problem. Determining whether there is, in fact, a change in the climate in Australia invariably affects whether people agree there is a crisis that requires some form of action. If farmers were not convinced there is a change in the cyclical patterns of drought and rainfall, then it was impossible to convince them of the value of taking water out of the productive system for environmental purposes. This points to a pertinent question that is 206 overlooked on both sides, with their focus on ‘natural’ climate cycles: Given the level of human intervention in the MDB, how can we know what the natural cycle should look like? Both sides of the debate are impacted by the biocentrism prevalent in the green perspective. Both use scientific evidence to try to determine ‘natural patterns’ and provide evidence of what is valid. Evidence from my interviews with both farmers and government officials, however, suggests that decision-making about what is ‘natural’ is most often based on social or environmental values. There is a focus on determining normal weather patterns and cycles without recognizing that those cycles have invariably changed due to the numerous human interventions that have occurred in the last one hundred years. Green environmentalism fails to acknowledge the impacts of human interventions and anthropogenic changes and that reverting to an imagined ideal climactic system may be impossible. While the government recognizes the effect humans might have had on climate cycles, they rely more heavily on evidence of climactic patterns from the past. A critical look at green environmental discourse reveals that it presents no straightforward way of reaching a consensus on ecological goals, despite scientific evidence of climate cycles or a lack of such evidence. While it is essential to address the impacts of drought, the answers may not lie in the past but in looking toward a future vision that embodies the goals and values of all those impacted. The “Just Add Water” Solution Similar to the debate around climatic patterns, contention grew around the government’s focus on diversions, the most significant policy directive and monetary investment for 207 addressing the crisis. While green discourse resulted in an emphasis on getting water to wetlands and protected areas, as explained in chapter three, administrative rationalism led to controlling as much water as possible and tightly governing decisions around water releases. In 2012, desired environmental objectives were identified under the management plan for the Basin’s water (Basin Plan, 2012). To achieve these objectives, an additional long-term average of 2750 gigalitres of water per year was set aside to restore and maintain the health of the river system (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2014a). A strong focus on water volumes was problematic as it had the disciplinary effect of overlooking how water infrastructure contributed to water and soil quality problems in the Basin in the form of salinity. Sufficient water flows are essential since two million tonnes of salt leaches out of soil and rock every year and is released down the Murray-Darling. This salt must be flushed into the ocean, or it causes major problems in the freshwater system. Without flushing flows, salinity and algae blooms increase, causing serious environmental issues (MurrayDarling Basin Authority, 2014a). However, sending more water down the system did not adequately address salinity problems. Dams and weirs impact flows and reduce the effectiveness of flushing. Also, excess flows can cause blackwater events which will be discussed in the next section. Many farmers questioned the emphasis on water volumes and were concerned that other approaches to addressing salinity problems were being overlooked, such as reducing invasive carp species. Further, there are certain aspects of the system which, according to many farmers, make flushing impossible. While farmers play a vital role in managing water in the MDBA, it must also be understood that the system as it exists today, and all the problems associated with it, can be attributed to the fact that the system was modified to 208 support the kind of farming that never existed pre-colonization (Pascoe, 2015). Water storage in dams and weirs has altered the natural flows of the river system since development began. These interventions have changed the volume, timing and duration of flow events. According to the MDBA, dams and weirs have prevented most small-tomedium-sized flood events that would have occurred in the past (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2014a). The MDBA also believes that in the pre-development era, droughts occurred in the lower reaches of the system in five percent of years. In contrast, in the postdevelopment period, droughts occurred in an estimated sixty percent of years (MurrayDarling Basin Authority, 2014a). This suggests that drought is directly associated with human interventions, but understanding which interventions were most significant is key. Further, given the level of interventions in the system, it is not possible to restore certain environmentally sensitive areas without removing infrastructure like dams and weirs. Several farmers I spoke with, including Darren Debortoli and Louise Burge, argued that the natural ecology of the entire system has been radically altered and can, therefore, not be restored through increased flow rates. At the end of the system, the Coorong, Lake Alexandrina and Lake Albert (the Lower Lakes) constitute a Ramsar site. During the federation drought from 1895 to 1903, the South Australian government first discussed converting the lower lakes into a freshwater storage. Louis Burge noted that that would have never been permitted on environmental grounds today. But by 1939, the project was completed, and barrages were built on Lake Alexandria, separating the lake from the Coorong and the sea. They built 7.6 kilometres of concrete infrastructure, and the lake itself is only 1.5 to 2 meters deep (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). To irrigate, they simply opened the flood gates at the side of the lakes, and the water would flow down to 209 the farms (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). While the idea of building the barrages was received with enthusiasm in 1939, there was some apprehension in the scientific community about the potential effects, particularly that the construction of a weir or dam in the tidal compartment of a river would result in shawling 19 and sedimentation (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). The barrages were first put in place in 1939, but the Murray mouth never closed over until 1982. What occurred in those 42 years was that the flows no longer went into Lake Alexandrina from the Coorong; they were instead funnelled towards the Murray Mouth. Since the construction of the barrages, an elevated freshwater system in the lower lakes has been created. These elevated lakes are unable to bring water in from the southeast of South Australia through the Coorong, which they had originally done. Due to the construction of the barrages, and the reversed flow of the Coorong, water can only come from the Murray-Darling system, which can never provide enough water in a drought situation. Given that the lakes cannot receive flows from the south-west and can only be fed through fresh water from the Murray-Darling Basin, there is now a black sludge accumulating in the Coorong because it cannot receive flows from the south-east. Human interventions indeed caused the environmental disaster in the Coorong, but what is less clear is how simply adding water will rectify the situation. Before the barrages were built, the Coorong would have flowed into Lake Alexandria and been fed by the lakes from the south. With the building of the barrages and farm drains emptying into the Coorong, there were no pushing flows from the ocean; the black decaying vegetation at the bottom of the system can never get flushed out to sea, “It 19 Shawling is when the soil builds up around the mouth of a river. 210 just sits there festering like septic waste” (D. Debortoli, personal communication 2016). Debortoli told me that by constructing the barrages and restricting saltwater from flowing into the Coorong and lower lakes, they have completely changed the ecology at the end of the river. By 1982 there was not enough water going to the Coorong so that some could flow into lake Alexandrina, and by 1982 there was no water going into the Coorong. The point of real contention for many farmers is that the government will not acknowledge in its management plans that the MDB is a man-made system- and that it is unsustainable to begin with. One of the government's most important goals has been to keep the mouth of the Murray River open. One government representative told me that, according to geological records, in 1983, the mouth of the Murray closed over for the first time since the ice age. He told me that since that occurred, a new river mouth punctured through the sand dunes, and sixty to seventy percent of the time, constant dredging is needed to keep the mouth of the Murray open. This government representative told me that while there is a range of consequences if the mouth of the river is not kept open, the goal of the government is predominantly to protect the whole lower lakes and Coorong, both of which are listed as protected under the Ramsar Convention (Anonymous government official, personal communication, 2016). The government intends to protect those sites by putting more water down the Murray. According to the farmers, however, and as described above, it is an impossible task so long as the barrages artificially elevate the lower lakes. Two-thirds of the way down the Darling River, and upstream from the Coorong and Lower lakes, is a whole series of natural lakes referred to as the Mennindee Lakes System. These ‘natural lakes’ are being used as storage (H. Johnson, personal 211 communication, 2016). From 2013 to 2016, the section of river downstream of those lakes had essentially experienced low to no flows (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). According to Johnson, the MDBA is attempting to address the water needs of the Coorong and Lower Lakes areas by assessing water use upstream of those areas. From the perspective of farmers like Louis Burge, Darren Debortoli, Helon Dalton, Derek Schoen and several others, this focus ignores the interventions in the lower lakes and Coorong as a potential source of the problems. This is a disciplinary effect of a discourse that privileged environmental water flows as the primary solution to the problem. Green environmental discourse, focusing on protecting natural sites, has had the disciplinary effect of narrowing the government’s focus. The farmers, on the other hand, challenge this narrow framing. In much the same way climate cycles are debated in terms of natural cycles, the value of water flows in restoring natural conditions is contested. The arguments on both sides rest on the validity of evidence gathered to indicate pre-development conditions, an approach in line with green environmental discourse. David Dreverman of the MDBA said that the lower lakes are mainly freshwater and occasionally estuarine in periods of low river flow before the barrages were built. Dreverman told me it would be fresh water if they put 13,000 gigalitres on average through that system. However, there might be saline intrusion around the channels where the lake flows out into the sea. He added that there would be short periods when they would be estuarine, particularly in dry years. He believes the system was essentially a freshwater body, and they have been able to prove that by examining fossilized single-cell organisms (diatoms) found in sediment cores and tracing many of them to freshwater varieties (D. Dreverman, personal communication, 2016). 212 At the same time, Darren Debortoli had been working with scientist Peter Gell to try to disprove many of the assumptions of the MDBA, particularly the MDBA’s belief that the lower lakes were not estuarine. Gell is a paleoecologist at Federation University Australia who examines changes in the conditions of wetlands over time. He has tried to advance a better understanding of ‘natural ecological character’ as defined under the Ramsar Convention. He specializes in using diatoms as indicators of present and past river and lake conditions, particularly in coastal systems and across Australia’s Murray-Darling Basin. Gell made public statements in 2019, arguing that the Coorong and lower lakes had historically been mainly estuarine. In July 2019, the MDBA responded to Gell, saying that removing the barrages would require even more water to be taken from production and that the barrages were originally built to maintain the balance between fresh and estuarine systems in the estuary: The MDBA welcomes scientific inquiry and review, and we will consider the latest contribution by Professor Gell as part of that process. The Basin Plan is and continues to be founded on the best available science. It is based on a range of scientific reports, including an analysis of 114 years of the Basin’s climatic conditions. The science is regularly reviewed by an independent scientific committee…The Basin Plan is designed to achieve the best possible environmental outcomes across the whole Basin, not just the Lower Lakes and Coorong. The MDBA has consistently said that historic records from before development of the river point to the Lower Lakes varying between being mainly fresh water with periods of estuarine conditions during periods of low river flow. The Lower Lakes cannot return to pre-development conditions because there is not enough water 213 coming through the system to maintain the balance between fresh and estuarine. That’s why the barrages were built in the 1940s. To return the Lower Lakes to their pre-development condition would require greater volumes of freshwater to reach the end of the system, and this could only be achieved if much less water was extracted upstream than required under the Basin Plan. (Murray-Darling Basin Authority, 2019b). After visiting the Coorong and Lower Lakes, I was shocked at the level of decay. A nauseating smell permeated the whole area, and virtually no birds lived there. It was also bone dry during the wettest year in over a hundred years. Dried-up salt lakes dotted the landscape, and blue-green algae was pervasive in the water remaining in the Coorong. Sedimentation is so high that there is stinky black sludge where water remains. However, the MDBA sees no option but to keep the lakes full of fresh water. The South Australian government argues that the lakes can never be saltwater again. Louis Burge told me that the government said they could not open the barrages because there would not be enough fresh water to let the sea back out. The MDB, as evidenced in the above excerpt, has accepted the argument put forward by the South Australian government that they put the barrages in because of too much extraction upstream. However, according to farmers like Burge, the South Australian government made a conscious decision to turn the lakes into freshwater lakes. Burge told me she does not argue to pull the barrages down because she knows the political reality will not let that happen. However, on environmental grounds, she believes it should happen (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Efforts to improve the conditions of the Basin are impacted by the belief that people can turn the system back to a previous state. While the government recognizes that they 214 cannot revert the system to pre-development conditions, they use strategies that could only work if the system was in its pre-development condition, i.e., where there are no dams, and the Coorong had normal flow patterns. Burge commented, “nature evolves, and nature is constantly changing, but we are trying to grab a moment in time of nature and say this is the ideal or perfect.” The problem with trying to “grab a moment in time” and elevate it as an ideal is that there is simply no way to know what it was like before. The impacts of human development make it impossible to return nature to some ideal state. The green discourse presents a romantic view of nature as something that needs to be protected from human development but fails to recognize that we have been an essential part of nature that has irreversibly shaped the natural landscape in myriad ways. A critique of green environmentalism reveals that it is not possible to reverse the damage done to the environment or revert to some ideal point in time; it is only possible to imagine the social and environmental outcomes we collectively wish to achieve and work toward them. Blackwater Events Some of the fiercest resistance toward the MDBA plan can be explained by the adverse impacts of environmental watering, mainly what are referred to as ‘blackwater events.’ Blackwater events occur when there is a lack of oxygen in the water resulting in mass fish die-offs. These events occur when excess water causes trees and other debris to fill the water and cause the water to become hypoxic. Many farmers are upset at what they see as poor environmental watering practices, inundation as a result of environmental flows and an increase in toxic black water events. The high occurrence of blackwater events can be 215 seen as a productive effect of the privileging of ‘environmental water’ flows characteristic of green environmental discourse. The Draft Basin-Wide Environmental Watering Plan (2019) states the following, Assessments of tree stand condition throughout the Basin in 2013 and 2017 have shown how floodplain forests and woodlands have responded to environmental conditions and management over time. River red gum forests and woodlands that line waterways and low-lying areas have generally responded well to management, while the condition of communities higher up on the floodplain (such as black box woodlands) or where constraints limit flows continues to decline. Under the heading “Vegetation” in the draft plan, there are no in-text citations that refer to specific studies and research used to determine the effects of watering on vegetation. There are five references at the end of the report, none of which deal with river red gums or other native tree varieties like eucalyptus. The rest of the citations are from other Murray-Darling Basin Authority reports (Draft Basin-Wide Environmental Watering Strategy, 2014). It is unclear what information is relied on to decide how trees should be watered. Some government representatives believe that farmers find it difficult to support the plan because they are simply unable to observe the ecological outcomes. Hilary Johnson, for instance, believes that farming communities struggle to see fundamental differences in the landscape with or without environmental flows because the changes are probably incremental or might not be obvious. He told me it is difficult for farmers to understand the benefits when they “might be hidden away in some wetlands far away from farms” (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). Conversely, for some farmers, watering problems have arisen from a lack of “common knowledge” about the landscape 216 in the MDBA (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Given the government’s claims that trees along the rivers are suffering because of drought, Buller did an independent investigation on the water requirements of trees in the region. She told me that the eucalyptus and the red gums are flood-tolerant, not flood dependent. Therefore, if they are overwatered, they will die, but they are also highly drought tolerant and can survive for several years without water (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). According to Helon Dalton, native plants in the region can withstand inundation and periods of dryness of up to ten years. These plants have adapted to the Australian climate in this way (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Farmers believe that governments simply do not comprehend the requirements of the trees and land in the region. At the time of our interview, there were several black water events that had become hypoxic. Farmer Shelley Scoullar told me that, generally, black water events are okay in terms of occurring regularly and without critical impacts. However, Scoullar told me that older farmers have expressed to her that while black water events were common in the past, it was not until 2010 that they started becoming hypoxic. Older farmers believe that the watering of forests results in more tree litter on the floor. When floods occur, the water becomes saturated with nutrients from the trees, and oxygen levels drop very quickly (S. Scoullar, personal communication, 2016). Farmer Bernard Walsh also reported seeing trees falling into the rivers because there is too much water going down the river, and areas that should be dry are being flooded every year. Walsh said the government seems unaware that the trees are not supposed to be flooded yearly. Further, he told me that some areas should only flood every ten years, but now they are being watered every year. If the trees do not dry out, they will become waterlogged and die. He reported becoming aware of 217 multiple incidents whereby the government flooded fresh water into a lagoon, and the trees became toxic and killed all the fish (B. Walsh, personal communication, 2016). Farmers point to the increasing regularity of blackwater events as proof that the science around the Basin plan is failing. The farmers hope to undermine the dominant discourse that tends to focus on the volume of water as the cause of problems in the Basin. Farmers challenge the dominant discourse by showing that the government’s desired environmental outcomes cannot necessarily be achieved in such highly modified environments. Environmental watering appears to be based on assumptions about the requirements of the trees in the MDB, and at least according to farmers and local witnesses, watering may be having serious detrimental effects on trees and aquatic life surrounding forests. There is an assumption that putting more water down the river will restore the system, but such an approach also has negative consequences for the trees and aquatic life in the rivers and flooding farmlands. Challenging Perceptions of Rice Farmers Green environmental discourse has significant consequences for rice farmers. To outside observers, rice farming appears to require unsustainable amounts of water. However, farmers insist that rice can be a vital aspect of a sustainable farming system and provide numerous environmental benefits, including the capacity to store and reuse water and provide habitats for species of wild birds. Farmers challenge the view that rice farming is destructive by trying to demonstrate that rice farms can reflect many of the same characteristics as ‘natural’ spaces. 218 Most Australian rice farms are in the Murrumbidgee and Murray regions of the southern Murray-Darling Basin. The central irrigation districts of Murrumbidgee, Coleambally and the Murray Valley have suitable clay-based soils for rice growing on relatively flat land with established irrigation infrastructure (Ashton et al., 2016). The centres of rice growing are around Leeton, Griffith, Deniliquin and Coleambally. The Rice Marketing Board of NSW legally owns all rice grown in NSW under the Rice Marketing Act of 1983. The Board distributes licenses to approved buyers who purchase rice from growers (Ashton et al., 2016). Rice growing is entirely dependent on irrigation water. If there is a low water allocation, little to no rice is grown. Rice can only be grown on approved soils and is closely regulated by the water use policies of irrigation corporations. The Australian rice industry is the world’s leader in water use efficiency, using fifty percent less water than the global average. According to the Department of Agriculture, “Water use per hectare continues to decline because of the industry’s commitment to developing high-yielding rice varieties that use less water, and the use of world’s best management practices” (Australian Government Department of Agriculture, Water and the Environment, 2015). Despite the relative success of rice farming in Australia, there is a debate over its sustainability. Critics have questioned whether farmers should be growing rice. Farmers, in turn, have responded by trying to reframe the debate and characterize themselves as environmental caretakers. In reframing the debate, farmers hope to garner support for their industry and gain recognition for their sustainability efforts. Russell James of the MDBA told me that, in broad terms, if water is taken out of the river system and used to grow a crop, the question of which crop is being grown does not really matter to the government. James, however, believes that some agricultural 219 production systems are more environmentally friendly than others. For instance, he claims that the environmental impact of horticulture is lower than rice (R. James, personal communication, 2016). Therefore, even though the government's official position is that they are concerned with how much water is being used overall, there are biases in thinking about which crops are more viable. Farmers seek to challenge what they see as misunderstandings regarding people’s knowledge of rice farming. Farmer Debbie Buller explained that when people fly over ricegrowing areas in September, they will see what looks like a giant lake because the rice has just been planted. They do not understand that the water has just gone on the ground and that the water is very shallow and will be held for a long time in clay soil to grow the rice (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Fields are flooded at the beginning of the crop and sit there for the duration of the plant’s growth as it slowly absorbs the water (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Nonetheless, the popular press has drawn negative attention to rice growing in Australia in headlines like “Stop growing ‘thirsty’ rice: expert” (Alexander, 2019) and “Should cotton and rice be grown in Australia?” (Kennard, 2007). Helon Dalton explained that farmers are never made to grow rice, but they choose to grow rice because it is the most efficient use of water. For Dalton, not only is rice efficient to grow, but it also adds value through the processing sector. Further, rice growing allows farmers to use any residual water left in the soil to grow a whole other crop of winter cereals like oats (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Farmer Debbie Buller remarked on the efficiency of growing rice in certain regions in Australia with clay-based soils. “Australian irrigators are right at the top of their game. We’ve been rice farming for over 30 years, and we now grow twice as much rice with half 220 as much water” (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). Clay-based soils with little water leakage make the area ideal for growing rice. Further, rice farming has provided valuable habitat for bird populations. Helon Dalton told me native birds are abundant on her farm and throughout the area (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Farmer John Bradford spotted a pair of male and female endangered bitterns living and breeding in his rice fields, so he contacted Birds Australia to report the sighting. Bradford saw the occasion as an opportunity to demonstrate the environmental benefits of growing rice and to counter claims by greens that rice is environmentally damaging. Birds Australia came to his farm within a couple of days after he made his report. He then informed the Rice Growers Association, and they have also been tracking the bitterns in the rice (J. Bradford, personal communication, 2016). The Rice Growers Association now has people around the world inquiring about donating money to bittern programs (J. Bradford, personal communication, 2016).20 While there are many bird species on farms, the farms are not considered natural environments, so the government often ignores these bird populations. Despite the claims made by farmers, the dominant green discourse perceives rice farming as disadvantageous to environmental outcomes. Hilary Johnson from the MDBA responded to farmers' claims by saying that productive lands are not gaining the same kind 20 Shelley Scoullar told me that their farm has had bitterns in their rice every year. It is hard to spot them, but you can hear them, because they make a really loud booming noise. The indigenous people called them the Bunyip, which is a large mythological creature from aboriginal mythology no one could ever find, even though they made loud noises (Scoullar). The Bunyip was said to lurk in swamps, billabongs, creeks, riverbeds, and waterholes. The origin of the word bunyip has been traced to the Wemba-Wemba or Wergaia language of Aboriginal people of South-Eastern Australia. However, the Bunyip appears to have formed part of traditional Aboriginal beliefs and stories throughout Australia, although its name varied according to tribal nomenclature. In his 2001 book, writer Robert Holden identified at least nine regional variations for the creature known as the Bunyip across Aboriginal Australia. Various written accounts of Bunyips were made by Europeans in the early and mid-19th century, as settlement spread across the country. 221 of biodiversity as would be exhibited in a wetland habitat. He does not deny farmers' claims about Australasian bitterns, but as a point of comparison, he told me that when the government inundated the Barmah-Millewa forests, it was estimated that twenty percent of the known population of Australasian bitterns in the world turned up to that forest. Though he admitted it was hard to monitor, they were thought to have bred during that time (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). Johnson believes that farmlands do not have the complementary habitat needed for the long-term maintenance of the bitterns (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). Nonetheless, it is evident that in some cases, farm habitats effectively provide refuge to endangered bird species, which could provide an opportunity for governments to preserve these species. This is the conclusion important to the farmers I interviewed. In response to concerns about the potential value of farms as sites for ecological preservation, the government has begun to engage with farmers to look at some of these spaces and has introduced programs to help facilitate their revegetation. Hilary Johnson of the MDBA told me that there are efforts on the part of the government to realize the potential environmental values of farms. The government is working with local communities and has entered into an agreement with Renmark Irrigation Trust in South Australia. Renmark Irrigation Trust is maintaining several sites where they have river red gum forest or black box forest that could be improved. The government has, therefore, entered into an agreement with Renmark to provide water to these sites. Consequently, environmental water will be delivered through their irrigation system to environmental sites within the agricultural community (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). Though the model usually involves smaller amounts of water, 1 or 2 gigalitres, they are 222 seeing if the model can be applied in other irrigation communities. These amounts, of course, are much smaller than the volumes they are looking to deliver in the lower lakes and Coorong, where some 700 to 800 megaliters of water a year are expected to be delivered. Johnson told me that these smaller community-based initiatives also support farm community engagement in the larger project of delivering water to high-priority zones (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). These smaller projects are important because farmers can generally maintain pockets of vegetation by flushing some of their excess water into these areas. The government wants to be able to help them provide additional water, so they can keep those pockets of native vegetation and wetlands that sit within the farming district in a healthy state (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). While these programs are still in their infancy, governments are beginning to recognize the importance of preserving parts of farms as integral to their broader environmental goals. Farmer Helon Dalton told me that the government has failed to understand the potential positive implications of recognizing how pristine environments and productive areas can work together, “Beneficial means not just productive, it means beneficial for the little bugs in the soil, beneficial for the critters on the crop, birds, frogs, etc. Beneficial for environment and healthy communities” (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Given the wildlife species on her own farm, Dalton sees her farm as both a productive and natural space. Farmers are paying high premiums for their water and, as such, will take every measure to see that water for irrigation purposes is retained on farm and sequestered by crops, not flushed down the river. While there are variations in the initiatives and advancements undertaken by individual farmers, many understand the value of 223 conservatively using water and ensuring that the river and surrounding wetlands are not contaminated by chemical waste. As we see from this discussion, farmers seek to challenge the green environmental discourse by questioning the separation of productive and environmental water. While the green environmental discourse has focused on environmental flows, farmers seek to establish their role in managing water on farms and protecting environmental assets. Cracks in the Discourse Some government representatives are beginning to recognize some problematic assumptions embedded in environmental discourse, particularly about the separation of ‘natural’ and productive spaces. This is important because policy decisions are often based on defining the problem as dichotomous. Policy choices tend to reflect a view that decisions benefitting environmental spaces are detrimental to productive spaces and vice versa. This perception appears to be changing. For example, Hilary Johnson of the MDBA admitted that even he struggles with the notion of a natural system. He explained, “there is no doubt that the system, by and large, is not natural” and that the MDB “manage(s) for environmental values.” These values, according to Johnson, are determined through international conventions and the choice of governments to list certain areas as Ramsarprotected sites. Johnson told me that while they do not consider all these sites to be natural, Ramsar recognizes that even sites that are entirely man-made have significant environmental values attached to them. The notion that something might be less natural and therefore has no environmental value is something that he struggles with (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). In essence, both farmers and Johnson agree that an 224 environment’s status as natural should not determine its environmental value. However, by this same logic, a farm should also be assessed by its contributions to environmental values, even if it is an environment impacted by human development. Johnson’s is a powerful admission that some government employees understand that environmental policy often stems from socially constructed values concerning the environment. These constructions can have profound effects on both environments and people. Johnson expanded on his earlier point, saying that judgments need to be based on the environmental values people hold. Further, in terms of protecting and restoring environments, there will always be limitations within a system that is comprised of numerous dams, weirs, and locks. As discussed in previous chapters, all this infrastructure has fundamentally altered the water delivery patterns in the system and the volumes of water available (H. Johnson, personal communication, 2016). This reality, which farmer Ian Mason also articulated, is that only some two hundred years previously, none of these European farm communities would have been able to survive in the natural environment (I. Mason, personal communication, 2016). Such comments by government representatives (and farmers) appear to represent a ‘crack’ in the green environmental discourse. Opportunities are emerging to find common ground among farmers and government officials, creating the space needed for a new discursive response and different policy solutions. With this recognition of the problems associated with trying to determine what is a natural system, there is also an important acknowledgment that the basis for much environmental decision-making, in fact, lies in the kinds of values that people hold dearest. As discussed in the next chapter, communitycentred values may be key to positive environmental outcomes. 225 Table eight below summarizes some of the transcripts that regularly appear in the green environmental discourse, as cited throughout this chapter. Further, the policies, legislation and actions taken are also summarized. Table 8- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Green Environmentalism Discourses: Transcripts & Policy, Legislation and Actions in the MDB Transcripts (Scott, 1992), Metaphors and Policy, Legislation and Actions Taken Rhetorical Devices (Dryzek, 2012) Transcripts, words and actions associated with a particular role and set of beliefs. Includes metaphors, euphemisms, gestures, rhetorical devices, and linguistic habits. GREEN ENVIRONMENTALISM -Federal Water Act (2007) -protection -wilderness -Green Party (significant after the 2001 election) -natural vs. unnatural -RAMSAR convention (1975) - land of drought and flooding rain -Basin-wide environmental watering strategy (2014) -environmental protectors -environmental values -environmental water -natural weather cycles -nature Conclusion Farmers resist the discourse of green environmentalism in several ways. First, they challenge the science of water cycles that underpin MDB management plans by drawing on alternate scientific explanations and local knowledge (including their own community’s environmental knowledge) to say that drought is ‘normal’ in Australia and that the government is misinterpreting the cyclicity of drought in the country. They also challenge the basic premises of the management plan from within the plan’s own logic; if the cycles are less predictable, then the plans based on these cycles are also likely flawed. Second, they try to show how critical environmental issues (such as salinity and turbidity) cannot be reduced to a question of inadequate amounts of water, nor can these issues be solved by 226 simply ‘adding more water.’ Once again, using alternative knowledge produced by scientists as their justification, as well as evidence from their own knowledge of their farms, farmers are working to redefine the problems in the MDBs in ways that reveal how issues are about much more than simply increasing the flow of water to ‘nature.’ Third, as a key challenge to environmental water, farmers are mobilizing evidence and interacting with actors like Australian bird conservation organizations to show that productive farms can also be healthy ecosystems that harbour important species. These arguments challenge the dichotomy between nature and farms and thus challenge the assumptions embedded in green environmental discourse. Finally, farmers seek to present themselves as environmentalists in the MDB and reposition themselves within the debate. Through examples that show they are introducing efficiencies and providing habitat on their farms, they are trying to shift the public and governments’ perception of them and change the environmental debate in Australia. Further, interviews with government officials revealed that the farmers are having some effect in their efforts to reframe the debate. Officials recognize that farms can and do provide wildlife habitat. Still, the evidence overall shows a disconnect and lack of trust between these two groups, with the farmer perspective making minimal inroads in public perception or government policy. Green environmentalism encompasses a view of the world wherein human systems are generally regarded as detrimental to the natural world. Several scholars of the MDB have focused their research on the negative environmental impacts of farming in the MDB and what measures governments should take to redirect water from productive to environmental spaces (Grafton & Horne, 2014; Pollino et al., 2021; Ross et al. 2002) This characterization of the problem, however, frames people and productive spaces as separate 227 from nature. However, many well-known scholars have questioned such assumptions about ‘nature’ (e.g., McKibben, 1989; Oelschlager, 1991; Cronon, 1995; Soper, 1995; Vogel, 2015). These scholars have argued that nature is inseparable from human communities, and for farmers, the natural world is not external to the social world. As Bookchin (1994) points out, framing humans as outside nature can easily lead to the subordination of human social problems to ecological problems while failing to recognize the potentially positive influence people can have on their environments. As we have seen in this chapter, the development of the MDB plan has been impacted by a conceptualization of the environment as separate from people. This view has its roots in the historical trajectory of the green movement in Australia, with its emphasis on romanticism and biocentrism. Farmers share many of the same environmental concerns as people living in cities (and government bureaucrats), but they define problems differently. The unique situation of farmers means they conceptualize environmental spaces differently. For instance, farmers tend to view nature as something that needs to be carefully managed by people living and working on the land. As well as contrasting with some aspects of green environmental discourse, this view challenges administrative rationalism wherein governments, and experts are best positioned to manage the land. As explained in this chapter, farmers reveal how people have always had an integral role in directly managing environments in their day-to-day activities, including both ‘productive’ and ‘unproductive’ spaces. Australia’s green movement often fails to account for the significant impact that human societies have had on natural landscapes throughout history. Farmers seek to undermine the notion that productive and natural spaces are inherently separate. The examples provided in this chapter, including contested ideas about 228 climate cycles, the causes of problems in the lower lakes and Coorong, and perceptions of the environmental impacts of rice farming, challenge the dominance of green environmental discourse. Human interference has made it impossible to revert to some ideal moment wherein the ecology was ‘natural.’ In the end, decision-making is ultimately guided by the imaginations of those invested in the ecology of a given space and the values that these actors hold. It follows that if the goals of the MDBA plan are to be based on shared values, then we must ask what values and whose values? As this chapter demonstrates, values are based on basic assumptions about the nature of the environment and human roles within it. The next chapter reframes all of this by presenting an alternative discourse that foregrounds the role of social relationships in determining environmental goals and outcomes. Suppose environmental values are ultimately determined by the values of actors within a given community; policymakers may benefit from turning their attention to social relationships and communities’ values to make better decisions for human and natural environments. 229 Chapter 5- Community-Centrism Community-centrism is an alternative discourse of resistance that seeks to put human social relationships at the heart of environmental decision-making. Community-centrism provides a reconceptualization of environmental problem-solving in the MDB, surfacing economic, environmental, and social opportunities in ways that the four dominant discourses do not. Farmers offer the basis for a unique approach to environmental problems that situate people and the social interactions between them as central. Communitycentrism has been developed through my dialogues with farmers and their unique perspectives on environmental concerns. The discourse can be seen as a challenge to the four environmental discourses discussed in chapters three and four. First, the discourse rejects the centralized planning prevalent in administrative rationalism. Instead, it envisions a bottom-up, community-based planning process. Second, the discourse adheres to many of the assumptions underlying economic rationalism but, in place of centralized economic planning, encompasses a vision of a more community-oriented and localized economic planning approach. Third, the discourse challenges hierarchal state institutions and structures that limit social engagement and impede participatory democracy. The discourse thus challenges the mechanisms of democratic pragmatism as not going far enough to ensure deliberative democratic engagement in decision-making. Lastly, the discourse highlights the vital role of people as part of effective environmental management. This contrasts with green environmentalism, which focuses on protecting ‘natural’ spaces from human activity. Community-centrism entails a specific public philosophy with distinct problem definitions and policy solutions. Social relationships, community health and community 230 cohesion, are central ontological values. Economic and environmental outcomes are fundamental to the discourse but are directly tied to social relationships. From an epistemological perspective, strong social networks allow knowledge transfer to occur. While scientific and academic knowledge is important, collaborative scientific research and experiential knowledge also play an important role. Further, the discourse recognizes that the value of knowledge depends on the social capital of the knowledge holder. In community-centrism, knowledge holders who are directly involved in the community and who have investments in those communities have greater social capital. The public philosophy of community-centrism also gives rise to certain problem definitions. Problems are articulated and interpreted by the community, and solutions are generated through processes of community engagement. The discourse highlights the significance of local agents as environmental stewards, the importance of knowledge sharing within communities, and a bottom-up approach to problem-solving. The solutions to address water in the MDB that stem from this approach include community-based monitoring and reporting initiatives, strategic community-led decisions on water buybacks, and farm-led environmental programs. Variations of community-centrism appear among the farmers interviewed. However, to some degree, all the farmers interviewed expressed that they depended on their communities to run their businesses effectively. Some farmers highlighted the significance of knowledge sharing among their peers, others explained the importance of the local towns in supporting their operations, while others were engaged in communitybased environmental initiatives. Farmers are not a uniform group, but all respondents shared a commitment to their communities and acknowledged the vital role that 231 community-based planning and knowledge sharing can contribute to environmental and economic outcomes. These shared values, as articulated through my interviews, are labelled as the discourse of community-centrism. 5.1 The Philosophy of Community-Centrism The Ontology of Community-Centrism A community-centred discourse prioritizes relationships and community cohesion. Further, it emphasizes individual and collective health as a primary concern. The central preoccupation of the farmers interviewed, and the central ontology of the discourse is the preservation of established communities. First, farmers are fighting to preserve the health of their families and their way of life. They are concerned with keeping services like schools, shops, and secondary industries in their communities. Farmers prioritized maintaining community structure above all else. Second, there is a focus on the reliance of farmers on those around them, including families, women, other farmers, and workers. Interviews suggested that focusing on economics and the environment in the abstract – divorced from a sense that community lies at the heart of such economic and environmental considerations – can cause people to overlook the societal consequences of reform. Farmers in isolated communities rely heavily on their families, other farmers surrounding them, and their employees for the emotional support necessary to live a ‘normal’ life. Women are central to this community support structure. Given this ontological orientation, farmers are concerned with inter-generational continuity and the impacts of drought on the long-term prospects of family farming. 232 Drought and water reform have had an enormous impact on the social lives of farmers, a problem that has not received much attention. Farmers I spoke with noted just how dependent their communities are on surrounding towns, and that these towns also rely on them. The drive toward larger, more efficient farms has contributed to the breakdown of local rural life, and drought and government policy have often made conditions worse. Some towns struggled before the drought, but the effects of the drought caused such a hit that they collapsed under the financial strain. Derek Schoen recalled that at one point during the drought, there were two hundred and fifty houses for sale in Deniliquin and no buyers (D. Schoen, personal communication, 2016). As a discourse of resistance, communitycentrism seeks to reorient the policy agenda toward rural communities as the primary focus. My interviews suggest that a central concern of farmers was not just the viability of their farms but of the larger communities they support. Outcomes like the closure of schools and the breakdown of community and social structures (sometimes resulting in suicide, high incidences of divorce, and drug addiction) appeared to be the primary concern of farmers in these communities. The social relationships between farmers and communities are critical in terms of maintaining the quality of rural life, environmental sustainability, and the productive capacity of businesses. Illustrative of these dynamics, Barry Kirkup explained that historically farmers always enjoyed the support of the mayors and their communities. Communities supported farmers because they understood that taking water out of the system would have economic consequences for local businesses like schools, hairdressers and tire businesses. The farmers received their support from local communities, particularly in Leeton, where some six hundred members of the community are employed 233 by just one company, Sunrice. Farming allows other industries, including nut processors, wineries, and cattle feed lots, to remain viable (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). Often, this community-based support encouraged farmers to continue farming and provided them with essential resources to help them survive during the most difficult periods. For many of the farmers interviewed, farming is seen as a social calling, and farmers want to be acknowledged for their contribution to the larger community, not just to the economy. The ontological orientation of community-centrism puts ‘community’ in the foreground. The centrality of community to this discourse was also evident when farmers spoke about how the maintenance of communities was completely missing from policy responses to drought and water reform. Farmer Barry Kirkup noted that one impact of water reform is that the costs of services have continued to increase for those who are left trying to maintain the farming systems. Fewer people remain in the system, but the cost of maintaining infrastructure remains the same. Kirkup told me that all three of the farms next to him were sold at the same time, and the channel that Kirkup gets his domestic water from (3 ML a year) was closed. The irrigation company would not let water into the channel just for 3 ML because it takes about 10 ML to fill the channel. So, the domestic water channel was classified as a stranded asset (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). This situation means people living on farms have no drinking water and must purchase it for daily domestic use. Purchasing water for everyday use on farms which are often an hour away from the nearest community, makes life exceedingly difficult, if not impossible. Families with children found it particularly challenging to live in such conditions, and 234 many abandoned their farms to move to towns and cities or left their husbands and fathers to manage alone. The interconnections between farms and communities allow farms to endure. A community-centred approach acknowledges that the impacts of reform are not just confined to the farm. There are knock-on effects throughout communities, diminishing the capacity of entire rural towns to remain viable. During drought periods, farmers still paid water charges even though they had no water. Farmer Helon Dalton recalled how they budgeted during the drought by not going to the produce store or the mechanic, which ultimately caused significant damage to the larger community. Farmers needed the local businesses to stay in the towns. The farmers understood that their continued existence depended on ensuring that the townspeople had the financial support they needed. They knew that if local businesses in the community left, then they would not be able to continue farming. Helon Dalton told me that she has an aversion to talking about ‘farmers.’ Instead, she prefers to talk about communities because farmers are an integral part of the larger community. She observed, “People think farmers’ winge,’ but it’s about all of our communities. It’s not just about being able to produce something; it’s about supporting our community, and them supporting us” (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Community-centred discourse reveals that farmers cannot be viewed in isolation from the larger communities in which they live. The discourse also demonstrates the importance of personal relationships, such as with farm employees, many of whom are regarded as a part of extended families. Farmers depend on labour that is only available if communities can receive and accommodate workers. Further, providing consistent work to labourers is the only way to keep them in 235 these communities. For instance, during the drought, Helen Dalton and her husband had to let go of all but one permanent employee. Since the drought, they have been able to employ more people, but she noted that many farm workers were forced to leave the area during the drought, so it became more difficult to find qualified workers (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). When labourers leave the communities, getting them to come back is difficult. Community-centrism highlights the value of people like farm labourers who provide the vital support farmers need to retain their businesses. Community-centrism also pays close attention to and underscores women’s critical roles in sustaining vibrant and healthy communities. While women farmers paid closer attention to gender dynamics, both men and women interviewed discussed how central women and mothers were in maintaining farm operations. One of the most significant social changes resulting from the drought and the exodus of people from rural communities was the restructuring of the workforce. This restructuring critically impacted women’s roles, reverberating throughout the broader community. Many women, like Debbie Buller, went away to work as nurses or teachers; and some started their own businesses. These changes meant that men were left to tend to the farms on their own, and the relative isolation led to severe impacts on mental health (D. Buller, personal communication, 2016). While it may seem old-fashioned, farming generally requires a more traditional family structure. Moms do not work outside the home as they are tasked with caring for the children and the husband, who toiled long hours on the farm. Helon Dalton, for instance, had always taken on the role of a traditional farm wife and devoted her life to caring for her kids. Dalton explained that many women who left the farms to work never returned to their husbands. Dalton’s brother sold the farm after his wife left to work. He 236 was too lonely on the farm to continue on his own (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). For many women, the change meant a better life with successful businesses or careers. But for the men, it often meant they could not continue farming because the lack of connection and support was just too debilitating. The drought and water reform drastically reshaped the structures of the community. This reshaping was of deep concern for the women who remained. In the town of Griffith, the drought dramatically changed women's roles in the community. During the drought, the women met for Thursday lunches to discuss their various activities. They were getting jobs, writing books, and doing other things to keep their minds occupied. The men stayed on the farms to look after the stock and to make cuts to stock. “The most horrible job, I think, is feeding stock when they are hungry and starving, trying to keep them alive every day and carting water. It is the most soul-destroying job.” Dalton recalls how difficult it was for the men, year after year, to cart water to thirsty animals as the drought continued unabated (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Most of the women are still not back on farms. Dalton is the only woman left in farming in her small community. The impact on community was far-reaching; no one had time to help with the work done by the local hall or to go to bushfire meetings. She lamented that “all these important things that kept the glue of the community together have virtually disappeared” (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Community-centrism brings attention to how environmental issues penetrate the whole community, beginning with the breakdown of the traditional family structure. Community-centrism also draws attention to how healthy farm communities depend on multigenerational continuity. As the older farmers age and the younger farmers 237 observe the hardships and increasing uncertainty involved in modern farming, young people leave the farms searching for alternative prospects. Barry Kirkup’s son, for instance, had worked on the farm for a time but then opened an electronics business in Leeton. From Kirkup’s point of view, the younger generation does not want to wait for their returns. Farming, he told me, is about long-term gains, “you are not in it for five minutes.” Setting up an effective farming system requires a lot of assets; some years are lean, while others are good. He told me that young people do not want to hang in there through the lean years (B. Kirkup, personal communication, 2016). In a similar vein, farmer Bernard Walsh told me that his work had been made more difficult by the fact that he pushed all his kids off the farm at the beginning of the drought because there was no work for them. He encouraged his children to enter the trades. However, he now believes that if he had someone to sit down with and share his problems with, he would be better able to handle the pressures. “I don’t know if I’m being super negative, but I can’t see a light at the end of the tunnel” (B. Walsh, personal communication, 2016). Walsh explained that none of his children will return home to the farm because the risks are simply too high. He said that while he loves farming and has no problems dealing with the associated tasks, coping with the water situation, “which is the lifeblood” of their business, is too difficult in the current climate. Social isolation and increasing pressures make farming too difficult. He constantly worries about how much allocation he will receive because of their heavy dependence on the water market. With these conditions, he always “has to be thinking about marketing and not farming” (B. Walsh, personal communication, 2016). Losing so many people has been devastating to those left behind. Further, it is not just farmers that leave but everyone who supports farm communities: labourers, teachers, 238 hairdressers, grocers, etc. When there are fewer people in the communities, prices must be higher to have goods sent to the communities. As demand decreases, the cost of everything also increases, so farmers are forced to find ways to make more profit (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). Farming depends on the long-term participation of everyone in the community: wives, mothers, grandparents, young people, small business owners, and community members like teachers and nurses. Farmers do not exist in isolation from the rest of the community; they are an integral part of and depend on the broader community that supports them. As we can see from these examples, the ontological orientation illustrated through these stories is one centred on community. The Epistemology of Community-Centrism Community-centrism can be defined by an epistemology that privileges local community-based knowledge, particularly farmer knowledge. While the discourse gives attention to scientific and academic knowledge, it favours collaborative scientific research and highlights the key role that experiential knowledge can play. Fostering social networks for knowledge exchange is another key aspect of community-centrism. This discourse also holds that the value of knowledge depends on the social capital of the knowledge holder. Within community-centrism, knowledge holders who are directly involved in the community and who have vested interests in those communities are seen to have greater social capital. These are the people that the community relies on to influence outcomes. While there is space for farmers to engage with government experts, under the current circumstances, that knowledge is often viewed with skepticism and distrust. One of the insights I deduced from these characteristics of the epistemology of community-centrism 239 is that if farmers are not given opportunities to shape the governance processes, they are subject to, they will resist these processes. This insight suggests how important it is for governments and external ‘experts’ to build trust through close engagement with farming communities. This epistemological approach represents a challenge to the discourse of democratic pragmatism that was explored in chapter three. While democratic pragmatism emphasizes the practical application of ideas through democratic processes such as environmental consultations and consensus-building initiatives, the discourse often ignores the wider social processes in which specific environmental issues are embedded. By focusing on social processes, community-centrism offers a way of redefining problems that account for uneven power dynamics and how some types of knowledge may be privileged over others. The epistemology of community-centrism is evident in the critique farmers had of current community engagement efforts by governments. Community-centrism represents a discourse of resistance to the dominant discourses that tend to privilege government and ‘expert’ knowledge. Community-centrism is characterized by a focus on increasing social trust through empowering people. Farmer Helen Dalton believes that a lack of trust is the main obstacle to incorporating farmers in the decision-making process. Dalton would like to see a more “bottom-up” approach on the part of the government. She told me that given the current attitude, which is “top-down,” “the farmers will fight the whole way.” As a primary school teacher, she offered an analogy based on her own experience: In the first year, you instruct the children in the basic rules of conduct; in the second year, you tell the students that they are in charge of their environment and the teachers are there to help them. By the third year, you ask the students what rules 240 they want to apply to their classroom. When the teacher asks the students to make the rules, the rules are generally ten times more stringent than if the teacher had made or imposed the rules. The students want the rules and will willingly abide by the rules, because they made the rules and agreed to them. In this case, the teacher no longer has to impose or enforce any rules (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). According to Dalton, this is how to create good governance because the students have learned what they must do and agree with the rules because they developed them (H. Dalton, personal communication, 2016). Dalton’s analogy demonstrates the significance of individual responsibility and accountability toward environmental planning processes. Social trust, as demonstrated through these values, is a defining characteristic of community-centrism discourse. The discourse asserts that when the people subjected to governance feel empowered, they can make better decisions and often go above and beyond expectations. Farmer Shelley Scoullar believes that reform must “build from the grassroots because the people who have been living in the system for generations understand how the system works.” She added, “And if you work with local knowledge, we call it localism, then you can design a plan that will meet environmental outcomes, and social and economic outcomes” (Scoullar, personal communication, 2016). Locally based decision-making provides the opportunity to engage meaningfully with farmers. A community-centred approach recognizes the potential role that governments can play in helping adapt to challenging circumstances and how community members might influence the forms that this help could take. 241 Community-centrism highlights the value of local farmer knowledge in the policy planning process. Collaborative locally embedded approaches to research and knowledge dissemination are central to the epistemology of community-centrism. In the case of research, investment planning, and strategic development, farmers see themselves as playing key roles in defining objectives and identifying the limits and desirability of certain projects over others. A community-centred discourse focuses on the potential positive impacts of actively engaging farmers in consultations, developing models, and designing policy. For example, Farmer Louis Burge explained that while it is good that the government is looking at redesigning flow regimes that are more realistic, she also thinks that the governments of both NSW and Australia could do more to work with local communities. For Burge, this would mean “getting the consultants out of the picture - get the bureaucracy and the consultants out of the picture - and key people come into the community and ask farmers how they would like to design a program to work through the solutions.” In this vein, Burge has written up a constraints sheet that includes ways of designing environmental flows that could work for the community and for the government (Burge, personal communication, 2016). Community-centrism is focused on the role of local knowledge. Burge reported that she faced a significant amount of adversity in confronting the problems with the plan. Still, she has spent a lot of time compiling what she calls the Murray messages, which she told me is “solution focused.” Since she anticipates that the government’s objectives in the plan are not likely to change, she has tried to make recommendations that are not too politically difficult. Her “messages” were endorsed by Murray Irrigation and then sent to the MDBA. They have also had discussions about amending the Water Act, particularly the Sustainable 242 Diversion Adjustment Mechanism. Burge told me that farmers are continuing to look for ways to secure social, ecological and economic outcomes in the MDB and to find pathways to get governments to work more closely with local people (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Burge’s comments reflect a desire on the part of farmers to be included in negotiations, even when their goals are not necessarily recognized. Burge regularly emphasized the desire for the government to include “local” people. Conversely, community-centrism draws attention to how government knowledge can be more accessible to farmer communities. This is because this discourse is grounded in the assumption that effective knowledge exchange creates opportunities for cooperation and can help foster productive long-term management of water in the Basin. However, the value of these exchanges largely depends on how the other party is viewed. Communitycentrism focuses on how locally based experiential knowledge can gain legitimacy and how that knowledge can be made accessible and quantifiable by government agents and farmers. The epistemology of community-centrism highlights that the value of knowledge depends on the social capital of the knowledge holder. Farmers tend to value knowledge according to their relationship with the knowledge holder. While farmers often act independently, they are also inclined to evaluate the knowledge of close friends and associates as important. Knowledge from government sources is seen with skeptical distrust by farmers, as the latter does not believe that government agents are invested in outcomes important to them and their communities. Some farmers use consultation services, but they tend to enjoy long-standing and strong connections with these 243 consultants. For farmers, the social relationship held with a knowledge broker is of utmost importance. As explained above, one of the underlying epistemological assumptions of community-centrism is the recognition of farmer knowledge. This approach contrasts with the types of engagement and consultation we observed through analyzing democratic pragmatism. Community-based discourse envisions a more deliberative democratic engagement. Elinor Ostrom (2012) has argued that good governance is characterized by a sense of individual responsibility and accountability toward the process. Communities are often able to find stable and effective ways to define the boundaries of a common-pool resource, define the rules for its use and effectively enforce those rules through active engagement in the process. The effective management of a natural resource often requires ‘polycentric’ systems of governance where everyone impacted has a role in the process (Ostrom, 2012). My analysis shows that the farmers I spoke with place ‘community,’ ontologically and epistemologically, at the centre of their understanding of the issues and challenges facing the MDB. The discourse thus encourages new approaches to water management, as well as water policy development and planning approaches grounded in ensuring farmers and their communities have seats at decision-making tables. 5.2 An Alternative Problem Definition Community-centrism is an alternative discursive framework for understanding and addressing environmental issues in the MDB. It challenges the discourses explored in previous chapters. The interviews with farmers revealed a unique way of understanding environmental problems that focuses on community-based outcomes grounded in practical 244 experience and decision-making from the ‘bottom up.’ The discourse, therefore, generates potential productive opportunities for alternative approaches to water reform. Community-Centrism and Administrative Rationalism In community-centrism, information gains value based on the quality of a farmer’s social relationships with the knowledge holder. However, within the scientific community, it is often assumed that information has value independent of the social conditions in which it exists. What are we to make of these contrasting perceptions and the relationship between them? For the farmers I spoke with, social trust and local relevance are the most critical factors in determining which information is valued and which is disregarded. In this way, community-centrism can be seen as a challenge to the dominant discourse of administrative rationalism, which privileges the role of experts and takes a primarily ‘top-down’ approach to knowledge dissemination. Community-centrism privileges more contextual and collaborative knowledge generation, meaning problems are often defined as locally specific and collective. The epistemology values the co-creation of multiple forms and sources of knowledge. While scientific knowledge holds value, there is a recognition that evidence provided by farmers and others in the community also offers value. The examples in this section illustrate how community-centrism challenges administrative rationalism and the alternative problem definition and policy solutions that arise from this challenge. The two key sources of knowledge that inform farmers are scientific and farmer based. Interviews with farmers revealed a common perception that scientific inquiry did not pay enough attention to locally specific contexts. Also, according to several farmers interviewed, scientific and government information is not presented in a form that is readily 245 accessible to farmers, and where it is available, its applicability depends on local conditions. A common complaint among the farmers I interviewed was that the scientific studies funded by the government often assumed that the results achieved in one area were universally applicable. The results of these scientific studies can only be duplicated if the same soil and moisture conditions apply. For example, as discussed in chapter four on green environmentalism, efficiencies in rice farming are heavily dependent on the level of clay found in the soil. In community-centrist discourse, there is a recognition that the value of knowledge is spatially dependent, meaning local conditions and preferences influence their applicability and relevance. Given these criticisms, it is understandable that farmers rely predominantly on information received from their counterparts. This dynamic demonstrates that the social relationships among farmers are key factors determining the kinds of knowledge that they find useful and ultimately decide to implement. Interviews with farmers reveal how deeply they have come to rely on one another’s experiential knowledge. Further, farmers are not receiving knowledge from the government in a way that is accessible to them. Community-centrism reveals the potential for authentic and meaningful reciprocal engagement between farmers and government agents. This contrasts with administrative rationalism, which constitutes a largely topdown engagement model. Within farming communities, there is a wellspring of shared knowledge largely untapped by policymakers. In the case of water management, for example, farmers rely on each other to make informed choices about irrigation intervals. Gary and Margaret Knaggs’s neighbour Chris, for instance, discovered that if the temperature goes above 36 degrees Celsius, he needs to shorten his irrigation intervals to just three days (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). There is a strong culture of 246 community-based knowledge transfer built on strong social bonds. Knaggs’s knowledge of appropriate irrigation intervals was gained through personal experience, but collaboration with government extension could have provided him with a better understanding of what to do with forecasted heat spikes. Encouraging and fostering strong social bonds between farmers and government representatives would present many more opportunities for this type of knowledge exchange. In this way, community-centrism challenges the discourse of administrative rationalism and provides an alternative model of engagement. Similarly, Gary, Margaret and Chris have also learned how much water plants need depending on their growth stage and the ambient temperature. When it is very hot and close to harvest, farmers know that plants need water to reach their tips. Knowing when to switch from a seven-day watering cycle to a three-day watering cycle is essential, but that knowledge comes almost entirely from experience and shared local knowledge. Similarly, rice farmers want to steward their permanent water allocations carefully, so they must make accurate predictions based on the weather for that week. Making the right decisions about watering is vital for farmers, and there is little room for mistakes. For corn farmers, if temperatures reach above 40 degrees Celsius, the crop can fail in just one day without water. Not only can the wrong decision cost farmers money, but it can also mean water is not being used efficiently. For farmers like Gary, Margaret and Chris, timing is essential knowledge. While some of that knowledge comes from government-funded sources, most comes from listening to other farmers and paying attention to what’s happening around them. 247 A lot of the knowledge has to come from personal experience because it’s realtime, real environment, who made the biggest boo-boo. The farmers are always the ones who have to pay for mistakes, while the scientists and the bureaucrats will still get paid no matter what kind of information they provide. These others will all be there the next year to continue on, but the farmer may not be. (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016) Fostering social bonds also means that information must be readily accessible and comprehensible. Farmers reported having a great deal of difficulty accessing and understanding the information that was available to them from outside sources. Farmers without a university education have difficulty benefiting from the knowledge that researchers provide. It must, therefore, be broken down into information that the farmer can actually use (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). Community-centrism foregrounds collaborative community-based planning; it asks both farmers and government agents to examine their own positionality. Government officials cannot expect to provide advice and services to farmers in the same way they would provide information to other government officials and researchers. Building relationships means looking at how knowledge is shared and if that knowledge is truly accessible. In this way, communitycentrism presents a direct challenge to the high modernist ‘top-down’ orientation of administrative rationalism. Research by the government can support new technologies and longer-term projects that private interests cannot pay for. Publicly funded research supports the public interest. Focusing on the larger social outcomes of water policies makes it clear that investing in agricultural research and technological improvements provides wide social benefits. There 248 is much to be gained from active government engagement in research and on-farm support. For instance, research can play a key role in advancing the economic interests of farmers and the communities they support and the environmental interests of farmers, governments, and environmental organizations. However, who should decide what to research and who should pay for these investments? Farmer Ian Mason told me that farmers have no problem paying for research they expect to profit from, but universities and research institutions should invest in the early stages of basic research. He would like to see the government get more involved with farming communities to see what kinds of measures are needed so they can design research that will provide useful and practical solutions. For instance, weed control costs farmers in terms of the time and energy required to physically remove weeds and in terms of lost production. Inventions using microwave technology and robotics could have great potential in identifying and eliminating weeds without using environmentally harmful pesticides (I. Mason, personal communication, 2016). Further, in terms of developing rice varieties, scientists must do the molecular work to determine which varieties perform best. There needs to be a greater drive toward employing future techniques and technologies, and some of the costs of innovation must be borne by the larger Australian community, or they simply will not be undertaken. However, in line with community-centrism, farmers and other community members can play a key role in determining which technologies will work best in locally specific contexts. A collaborative, locally based approach can assist in this endeavour. Since the larger Australian community wants to see a more sustainable environment, there must be ways to create the tools that farmers need to build such an environment. Farmers tend to define the environmental solutions, on the farm and off, as a 249 social good. This way of defining the issue is a departure from economic rationalism, which tends to allocate responsibility to individual farmers, and from administrative rationalism, which has focused on the role of governments in managing environments. In administrative rationalism, knowledge production seeks to employ the best available science and expertise but is not guided and inspired by the knowledge of farmers. Community-centrism recognizes the importance of this interchange of knowledge between farmers, experts, scientists, government, local community groups, and the people in the communities. Farmers provide an alternative vision for government involvement, beginning with community-based planning. Further, the discourse reveals the limitations of administrative rationalism as a discourse. Community-centrism defines this problem as one relating to a deficiency in social trust and a lack of appreciation and understanding for the work of farmers. If policy interventions were focused on this problem of social cohesion and trust, it would be easier for governments to make significant inroads into farming communities to produce and disseminate information. Community-centrism provides an alternative lens to administrative rationalism, one that accounts for the contributions of the wider community, including farmers, government experts and environmentalists. Community-centrism and Economic Rationalism As discussed in section 3.2, the farming community has gradually moved toward a greater concern for environmental outcomes and away from purely economic rationalist thinking. They have, however, struggled to differentiate themselves from other industries in the ways they give back to the broader communities which they support. As was demonstrated in chapter three in the discussion of economic rationalism, while some industries can pay 250 more for water, that does not necessarily translate into more efficient or sustainable uses of water. Further, a free market approach often fails to account for social values. Community-centrism draws attention to the interconnected nature of social, economic and environmental outcomes. Community-centrism challenges many of the assumptions embedded in economic rationalism by focusing on social outcomes. A focus on community-based outcomes expands our perceptions of value and challenges the notion that outcomes can be measured purely by economic gains (often only short-term). Under the discourse, economic problems account for larger societal values and longer-term economic gains to the broader community. The discourse can therefore be seen as a direct challenge to economic rationalism and market-based instruments that simply make water a commodity that any industry or user can access. In what follows, I explain how community-centrism offers a discourse of resistance to how farm economies are currently understood. First, the discourse highlights the social and environmental values of farming, as opposed to extractive industries. Second, the discourse highlights the importance of farming in terms of maintaining strong locally based economies. Other industries like mining and gas extraction tend to benefit export; trade maximization focused sectors that make minimal investments in secondary processing within Australia. Finally, farming in Australia provides numerous benefits to the broader communities. A strong agrarian economy supports tourism, provides incentives for environmental management, maintains vibrant and healthy rural communities, and ensures food security for the country in an increasingly insecure international trading environment. Community-centrism reveals the ways that farming provides significant social values. From the perspective of several farmers interviewed, a focus at the farm level 251 distracts attention from the negative impacts that other industries have had on the water system. They use examples of large cotton growers, as discussed in chapter three, and coal and gas extraction, which have tremendous impacts on the quantity and quality of water. Farmer Tony Piggins believes that farmers are held to a higher accountability than others because they have demonstrated a high level of responsibility regarding environmental care. Piggins warned that coal seam gas extraction in his area substantially affects groundwater quality, which could result in significant damage lasting thousands of years (even though the company has only been operating there for twenty years). While the focus environmentally is often on farmers, farmers are worried about the potential large-scale development of coal seam gas near their farms. In an area near Piggin’s farm, there is a very large brown coal reserve, and companies have been looking at it for almost fifty years. Piggins hopes this reserve will never be opened because brown coal is particularly dirty, and the government is trying to move away from the resource (T. Piggins, personal communication, 2016). According to farmers, water used in extractive industries does not appear to receive the same kind of attention as farming, even though these industries offer virtually no real benefits to the local communities. Like extractive industries, the demands of international markets have contributed to a shift in attention away from the value of farming and local communities (and local economies and social structures). There is increasing pressure to produce more for international markets, and secondary industries have begun to disappear. No matter what a farmer grows, they will have to produce much more to secure the same income. Farmer Allen Clark remarked, “If a farm twenty or thirty years ago could grow 1,000 tons of wheat, or milk 100 cows or raise 500 lambs and make a living, now they need to be growing 4 or 252 5 thousand tons of wheat or milking 300 cows or raising 3,000 sheep to support the family on the family farm” (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). In addition, as the price of water increases, so does the price of hay and grain. The cost of grain is also dependent on unstable world market grain prices. Local markets are more stable than international markets, so dairy farmers, for example, try to buy their hay from local farmers (A. Clark, personal communication, 2016). Working with their local communities allows farmers to retain greater value within their own communities. Community-centrism focuses on community-based relationships and outcomes to reveal the long-term gains of localized trading structures. Local trade can provide significant economic gains over a longer period and for a wider group of people within the community itself. Economic rationalism foregrounds the desire to bolster foreign revenues from the agricultural sector to strengthen the national economy. A cost-benefit analysis of interventions, however, does not necessarily consider local social impacts or how social impacts might affect economic outcomes over the long term. For example, governments (and farmers) generally agree that the market price reflects the value of the input. Therefore, if the value of the water is a hundred dollars, and the government buys it for a hundred dollars, then all the benefits and costs are built into the value of the water. At the global level that might be an accurate valuation of the water, and at the regional level it might also be a correct valuation because that reflects the value of using the water. However, as soon as the water is sold, it stops being an investment in the community (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). When there is less water in the community, farmers require fewer inputs, meaning there is less need for community services. Further, as the demand for government services is reduced, fewer kids attend school in the 253 communities. Therefore, several other values would be gained if the one hundred dollars stayed within the community. At a broader economic level, many possible values have not been understood and factored into the analysis. Russell James of the MDBA explained that there is an interesting philosophical debate in Australia around taking the “free-trade, maximize production route.” The consequence of this approach might be that, over time, Australian farmers could end up growing a lot of raw feed exports. He acknowledged that such an approach might simply support animal production in Indonesia or China, offering little added value to the Australian economy. However, he believes that politicians are not just interested in the number of dollars each industry generates; they are also interested in the multiplier effect of that production system and how many jobs the industries are creating in Australia (R. James, personal communication, 2016). As such, governments have started looking at what reduced water availability means for the downstream processing sector. James noted that a more “holistic look” would examine the secondary impacts of reductions in productivity in certain sectors (R. James, personal communication, 2016). From these comments, it appears that some government representatives are acknowledging the complexity of economic decisions in terms of impacts on communities both within the farming community and beyond. As this example demonstrates, there is an increasing recognition that community impacts represent an important consideration in policy and planning. The focus on fostering international markets since the 1980s has created significant tensions and has the potential to greatly undermine food security over the long run. Communitycentrism, therefore, represents a powerful discourse of resistance to economic rationalism. 254 Community-centrism highlights that successful water management often depends on ensuring strong social networks are in place to determine the effectiveness of water delivery both on farms and in areas designated for environmental water delivery. This framing differs from economic rationalism in that it sees achieving efficiency as a community endeavour. Community-centrism brings to the fore low-cost alternatives to supporting farmers and provides the necessary collaborative frameworks to make collective decisions that benefit the broader community over the long run. Focusing on the community benefits of on-farm efficiency could also reveal the benefits that extend well beyond economics. Farmer Richard Sagwood explained how on-farm water efficiency programs are of value to the community, “saving more water on farms means there is more water to give back to the environment, at a lower cost, and that is a benefit to the larger community and to the environment, and to all the taxpayers” (R. Sagwood, personal communication, 2016). Monitoring water delivery is seen as a community-wide responsibility. This broader view does not see on-farm efficiency as simply a gain for farmers but a significant gain for everyone. Strong social networks tend to present increased opportunities for mutually advantageous initiatives like the ones presented here. A community-centrism discourse assumes the value of long-term government involvement and commitment to communities. From this point of view, withdrawing support from farms and the surrounding communities is problematic. First, as was discussed in chapter three, if a third of the water is taken out of the system, the farmers that are left pay a lot more for the water because the value of the water has increased. The second impact is at the regional community level: if the government buys a third of the water, agricultural production is going to be reduced (even when efficiency measures are 255 put in place), so fewer chemicals would be needed, less fertilizers used, less grain produced, less trucking required and so on (G. McLoed, personal communication, 2016). Farmer Geoff McLoed remarked, “There is a knockdown effect at the regional community level. If there are less farms, there are less children, which means there are less children going to school, which means there are less teachers and less schools” (G. McLoed, personal communication, 2016). The impacts of an approach that looked at simple buybacks as the primary method of recovering water have been devastating to the rural communities that depend on farming. Farmer Tony Piggins said he has “no problem with governments acting on the need to build sustainability into these farming systems.” He believes that sustainability requires the government to manage the irrigation process and how water is supplied. However, he also believes there is a strong disconnect between government bureaucrats’ actions and impacts at the ground level where the farmer is trying to survive (T. Piggins, personal communication, 2016). Piggins and other farmers in his area spent some time consulting with both the federal and the state levels of government as part of the water-sharing plan. The farmers warned the government about what would happen if they made severe cuts. Most of the properties along the river where he lives had invested millions in private money to develop these complex irrigation systems under authorization and encouragement from the government. He does not understand how the government can simply ask the farmers to walk away from all these investments, “just turning around saying while that’s just bad luck, see you later” (T. Piggins, personal communication, 2016). Farmers like Piggins see the history of government investment as an investment in their communities, and they see the government’s withdrawal as a betrayal in terms of their long-standing commitment to developing those communities. Community- 256 centrism discourse sees government investment in infrastructure as one element of a longer-term relationship and commitment on the part of governments to the community, and vice versa. Community-centrism focuses on meeting the needs of the broader community, not just individuals. The focus on individual monetary benefits in the MDB drove wedges in the community and was seen by several farmers as a poor political process that undermined collective interests. For example, farmer Louis Burge recalled that several of the irrigation companies supported the plan because they thought they would not be able to change government policy, and the money was attractive to them (Burge, personal communication, 2016). Similarly, many farmers participated in the plan because the short-term gains were attractive, and the drought meant they were in greater need of cash. However, when the government takes half the water out of the channels through buybacks, all the channels are still in place. All the systems still needed to be maintained, but with half the number of users. Burge explained the problem by making an analogy to the railway transit system, “Think of a railway network, you have got to run the rail system and provide the service for the commuters, but you take x number of paying passengers out, what happens to the people who are left? How much would they have to pay to keep the same system in place” (Burge, personal communication, 2016). Dismantling nearly half of the region's water infrastructure had devastating economic and social consequences for those who remained in farming. Community-centrism focuses on the overall impacts of taking water out of the broader farming system rather than focusing on the consequences for individuals. Community-centrism also emphasizes the value of having farmers discuss, among themselves, how one farmer’s actions might affect their neighbours. A focus on individual 257 outcomes had a divisive effect on farming communities as farmers did not have enough opportunities to work together to find solutions that would provide mutually advantageous outcomes. Farmers generally hope that governments recognize the value of farming communities and make efforts to sustain these communities with less water in the system. In terms of problem definition, the community-centrism discourse posits the value of looking at policies in terms of the way that the broader community is impacted. It also uncovers how preserving rural farming communities influence the broader Australian society in terms of preserving a way of life and providing a reliable and healthy food supply. This view contrasts with economic rationalism, which assumes the market is the most ‘efficient’ distributor of water through ‘high-value’ users. As we have seen herein, farming has numerous additional values which are not defined and thus calculated within the discourse of economic rationalism. The social values of farming, as opposed to extractive industries, are emphasized by community-centrism. Further, communitycentrism challenges the logic of promoting exports and offshoring processing and secondary industries. The discourse reminds us of the benefits of keeping businesses in the MDB. The social benefits of strong agrarian communities include a reliable food source for the broader society, the development of secondary processing and related industries which provide employment and generate revenue, vibrant and healthy rural communities that attract visitors and draw attention to the importance of maintaining environmental sites, and the preservation of the rural culture that is a part of Australia’s national identity. 258 Community-centrism and Green Environmentalism In chapter four, I identified the negative productive effects of what I have termed green environmentalism, thereby helping to articulate an alternative discourse that considers the important connections between social and ecological systems. Through my interviews with participants, I found that farmers engage in a discourse that tries to break through the perceived dichotomy between human beings and nature. Human communities and their welfare are at the heart of effective environmental management. The farmer perspective is more holistic in that it challenges policies informed by the green discourse’s over-reliance on human-nature dichotomies. Farmers’ conceptions of nature are fundamentally different from that of scientists and government experts. Farmers understand that people and human communities are part of nature. Community-centrism articulates a way of understanding water management that incorporates scientific management and farmer knowledge while recognizing the reciprocal relationship between human culture and ecological systems. Community-centrism recognizes that the current situation in the MDB does not demand a withdrawal of human activity, but a recognition of the important part people play in managing these ecosystems, particularly the people that live on the land. Community-centrism posits farmers as key environmental stewards, taking a leading role in community-driven environmental initiatives. Environmental plans depend on the social support of the larger communities of which farmers are a part, but farmers do not always enjoy this type of support. John Bradford believes that people in the cities, for instance, are misinformed about the practices of farmers. He remarked, “people in the city who like to be clean and green, organic and so forth, were making assumptions about what we did and how we used our water. They thought we were environmental vandals” (J. 259 Bradford, personal communication, 2016). Farmers are disappointed in the lack of recognition they receive for their attention to environmental stewardship. They see themselves within the landscape as environmental managers who help maintain productive and sustainable environments (for farms and wildlife). Bradford points to the on-farm initiatives done by fellow farmers John and Shelley Scoullar as an example. They have grown plantations along the creek where numerous birds have found a habitat. However, environmental initiatives offer no financial return, and when “you are pressured by not making money and living very close to going bankrupt, you will not go down the path of doing things like that” (J. Bradford, personal communication, 2016). Community-centrism recognizes that the broader community has a role to play in helping farms transition to better environmental practices. The wider society benefits from environmental reforms, but there is a failure among the wider community to recognize the significant role farmers can play as environmental stewards. This is in stark contrast to the green view that often treats farmers as inherently injurious to natural environments. From a purely economic perspective, environmental stewardship also depends on the support of the broader community. Community-centrism recognizes that communitybased environmental initiatives require material prosperity to support them. Where farmers are concerned with their day-to-day survival, environmental concerns invariably take a back seat. Gary Knagge believes that if the government wants farmers to be more environmentally friendly, then their farms need to be more profitable, “wealthy people can afford to give back, and we don’t have to push the land as hard to make a profit. If we have that extra paddock, then we can afford to be more socially equitable because we don’t have our backs up against the wall” (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). He believes 260 that it is the economic conditions that force farmers to make poor environmental decisions: “when you are struggling hand to mouth something has to give, and it will either be you or the land.” He added that while there may be some unscrupulous farmers who do the wrong thing, the more affluent farmers are, the more generous and socially conscious they become. He does not believe it is a question of whether farmers want to be environmentally conscious but whether they can afford to be (G. Knagge, personal communication, 2016). Community-centrism firmly places the intimate relationships farmers have with their land at the centre of how environmental initiatives should be conceived and carried out. Such an approach is quite different from what has happened in recent years in the MDBA. Farmer Shelly Scoullar explained that one of the major problems with the efficiency programs was that many trees needed to be cleared. The irrigation group that Scoullar works with was – at the time of our interview- applying for a grant to build nesting boxes for the birds who lost their nests when the trees were cleared. Even though people have planted more trees, they take a long time to get hollow enough to nest in, sometimes as long as 100 years. With this project, they hope to get funding so locals can build nesting boxes to put in the new trees (S. Scoullar, personal communication, 2016). The efficiency programs, however, meant that many trees had to be cut to make room for center-pivot irrigation. People generally preferred the big centre-pivot sprayers to flood irrigation, so they needed to clear trees to get big sprayers into the paddocks. Scoullar recalls that one farmer, whose farm is nearly twenty percent plantation, was greatly distressed by the need to pull out trees to make room for the centre pivot sprayers. She recalls him telling her that such actions went against his grain because his family had been planting trees and doing everything they could for the environment since they were 261 established. This caused him tremendous stress and anxiety (S. Scoullar, personal communication, 2016). Their daily interactions with the land situate farmers as important environmental land managers. From the perspective of farmers, they routinely engage in environmental management practices; they maintain water sheds, nurture sources of ecosystem renewal, manage local bird and reptile species and maintain ecological processes at multiple levels (Berkes et al., 2000). The evidence presented here demonstrates that without healthy and prosperous communities, the environment will not be given the attention it deserves. Community-centrism focuses on the community needs that must be met for farmers to shift their focus to their roles as environmental stewards. In this way, farmers can become valuable resources in reaching water-related environmental goals. A central assumption of community-centrism is that solving ecological problems requires that affected parties work together to establish clear and mutually agreeable solutions. In the case of the MDBA, we have seen that there is generally a lack of communication and cooperation regarding environmental initiatives. As we saw in chapter four, for example, the government sent bird scientists to investigate the needs and conditions of bird species in the MDB, but farmers did not trust the research of the scientists, and they did not feel they had a space to share their own knowledge about bird species. Louis Burge, for example, explained that while rice takes up only a tiny space in the farm, it is a perfect crop to grow because of its high biodiversity value, particularly for birds. There are also an estimated forty billion frogs a year living in the southern rice fields of the Basin (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Consequently, there is an enormous amount and variety of bird life. The area has many species of migratory birds 262 coming to feed and nest, particularly those that nest in the forest and then come and feed on the frogs in the rice fields. They also have sea eagles, boggles, and many other kinds of birds. Farmers have questioned whether hired scientists have adequate local knowledge of these bird populations to go into a community and tell the community what to do. Such an approach arguably entails a top-down process wherein decisions are made without understanding how the ecology of the area works and what is realistic. An alternative approach could instead be for governments and environmentalists to enter a sub-catchment area or valley and ask the farmers there to help them design a solution to protect the species. According to Burge, such an approach would “automatically takes the conflict out” because it fosters partnerships so that depending on the species needing protection, appropriate government funding can be more readily secured (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). This approach also would give the farmers a space to share information, and it would allow governments to share valuable information with farmers. These outdoor spaces could be sites of knowledge exchange. This would also create important social networks between scientists and the farmers who live on the land and opportunities to cooperate in counting species or running other studies. When people become willing participants, they are more open to educational opportunities informing them about species. Farmers are also more likely to engage in activities like building nesting boxes, monitoring species numbers, and other efforts that the government or environmentalists may not have considered. Farmers want to see environmental policy in Australia work from the ground up, and they can play a critical role in determining which studies and projects would provide the most value in terms of environmental initiatives. For instance, creating a community around bird enthusiasts will 263 foster greater care and attention to environmental initiatives. Currently, evidence from my research suggests that governments tend to focus too much on big-ticket items and promise a lot of money to large projects that are not well supported by science or evidence. Burge remarked, for instance, that “they worked the big tax order tickets or the golden handshake.” She thinks working with communities is the most cost-effective and intelligent approach (L. Burge, personal communication, 2016). Community-centrism reveals how greater involvement from local communities delivers enhanced environmental outcomes for less money. Further, community-centrism highlights that when communities are invested in outcomes, environmental solutions tend to focus on longer-term outcomes. Evidence suggests that to date, most of the environmental policies in Australia have been advocacy-based - often made by people at the various levels of government and by environmental efficacy groups but with neither group having formed deep connections with the people on the ground. Community-centrism points to this as a failure in terms of longterm environmental sustainability. Community-centrism reveals that farmers want to help foster strong and ecologically sustainable ecosystems and communities. The discourse shows that even in cases where farmers may not display an interest in environmental outcomes, communitybased approaches provide opportunities to engage and nurture an interest in the environment. Giving social capital to farmers will create more opportunities for ecological initiatives and long-term, community-based solutions. The discourse critiques the purely economic rationalist discourse, which assumes that farmers' interests are always individualistic and economically based. Community-centrism draws attention to how financial success and the long-term viability of farms depend on healthy community-based 264 networks. The discourse provides a way of thinking and acting that will help build the kinds of social exchanges that empower farmers and help facilitate more effective environmental management. 5.3 Policy Solutions During the drought, policy analysts faced the challenges of navigating the complexities of integrating a wide range of alternative views into policies. Overall, it appears that the government has moved towards more polycentric forms of governance in the MDB. Local entities like councils, regional groups like catchment authorities, and provincial governing entities have aligned decision-making with national policy (Wyborn et al., 2023). Governance has depended on a broad consensus about rules, policies, and values because no one party was in charge (Abel et al. 2016) Further, the knowledge and participation of farmers provided some important answers in developing appropriate policy solutions at this critical time. However, my research suggests that many opportunities to gather and apply the local knowledge of farmers were missed. The social relationships among the key players were identified as a primary factor in the effective sharing of information and the development of trust, fostering more successful water management approaches. Nonetheless, there is a lack of social trust between government representatives and farmers in the MDB. Polycentric governance structures are affected by the power dynamics at play among competing actors. In the case of the MDB, hierarchal decision-making structures in which the government privileged the knowledge of some actors above others contributed to this lack of social trust. Community-centrism draws attention to the ways that non- 265 hierarchal social networks allow knowledge transfer to occur. The discourse focuses attention on the possibilities of more equitable engagement throughout all stages of the policy development process. For those who adhere to this discourse, problems are defined with community outcomes in mind, and policy solutions are based on these alternative problem definitions. The government can have checklists and measurements to assess community engagement. Still, if the government leaves a community without establishing bonds based on a firm sense of trust, the policy, no matter how good it may appear on paper, will likely be met with hostility from the communities that are impacted. Other research on polycentric governance in water management supports the conclusion that it is critical to examine how structures of power impact the capacity to move towards more collaborative approaches Colloff et al., 2021; Gaventa, 1982; da Silveira & Richards, 2013). Currently, the trust between farmers and government officials in the MDB is virtually non-existent. According to farmer Margaret Knagge, when asked what the government has done to help her husband and her through the drought, she replied, What has the government done to help? NOTHING, in capital letters, but actually worse than nothing. They have spent a fortune and are in the process of spending a fortune to achieve nothing, to hinder the progress of farmers, to obstruct the work of farmers by using a paradigm or a worldview which is based on extension research dating back to the nineteen sixties and seventies when we were in a world of productivity increases. (M. Knagge, personal communication, 2016) In community-centrism, re-establishing social trust is the key to recognizing long-term solutions to the problems facing the MDB. If community-centrism was widely accepted or brought into dialogue with the other perspectives in deliberative processes, the power 266 dynamics that negatively impact efforts towards polycentric governance could be overcome. Alternative policy choices do or may arise through this alternative discourse of community-centrism. For example, farmers worked together to implement environmental initiatives to manage water more effectively through inter-farm agreements. Further, farmers identified opportunities to work together to develop solutions they could put forward to the government, thereby reducing the need for government interventions. In addition, governments have also begun to identify ways to better engage in communities, generate collaboration, and utilize more effective policy instruments. When farmers come together to build social relationships, the impacts can be profound. Strong social networks can lead to both increased knowledge production and transfer. Farmer John Hand told me that irrigators are improving the environmental corridors around their properties. For instance, a corridor runs through his property along a creek that was once used for flood irrigation. The farmers have been steadily planting trees in this area to develop another environmental corridor. They have also tried to tie several vegetation areas together so that the corridors link up. As the trees mature and the corridors are connected, there are increasing numbers of bird species in these areas. Recently, he recalled, he had seen at least ten new varieties of honey eaters that he had never seen before. He has also seen the endangered Bittin return to the area (J. Hand, personal communication, 2016). If farmers worked with governments and environmental groups to ensure these corridors extended to national parks and other private residences, the environmental impacts would be even greater. They could also work together to monitor the health of these corridors both on and off the farms. 267 Community-centrism is about leveraging social relationships. Farmers demonstrate this approach through various initiatives and provide examples of how this can be done effectively. Water reform has meant that farmers must find ways to do more with less water, but in some cases, they have harnessed the power of their social networks to manage through difficult periods. Shelley Scoullar, John Hand and John Bradford decided to pool their water resources one year to grow a small rice crop, as opposed to not being able to grow any rice at all. In previous years they had combined water but not to the same extent. They were determined to grow rice because the crop provides so many benefits for their other crops. When they put a cereal grain on top of their rice fallow ground, it gives the cereal a good start. The rice allows them to maintain a good crop rotation so that they get two crops from the same water (S. Scoullar, personal communication, 2016). It is the social relations between these farmers that allowed them to remain viable and survive through the tough years. Community-centrism reveals that leveraging social relations could have potentially led to many more opportunities for farmers to survive the drought. Governments can also learn how to capitalize on social relationships to produce better outcomes. Governments, for instance, could intervene by bringing farmers together to form their own solutions and pool their resources to remain viable through the dry periods. In the past, instead of calling all the farmers together to discuss the plans of the MDB, the government could have begun by first bringing the farmers together to explore possible solutions among themselves. Such discussions could be facilitated and even guided by the government but would be more effective because they would give farmers a chance to find their own solutions, and they would have ownership and accountability over those solutions. Government agents would also be able to explore different options they 268 had not considered earlier. These would be just some of the potential productive effects of taking seriously the priorities emphasized by the community-centrism discourse. Table 9 summarizes some of the ways that the problem definitions of government representatives and farmers diverge. Further, it reminds us of the policy options and alternatives that arose from the point of view of the respective parties. The communitycentrism discourse summarizes many of the views presented by farmers, while the views of government representatives are articulated throughout the previous chapters. Table 9- Government vs. Farmer Problems Definition and Policy Solutions Problem Salinity Government Problem Definition -Not enough water -Over-allocation Drought -Not enough water -Over-allocation -Climate change Flooding -Climate change -Administrative errors -Poor infrastructure Government’s Policy Solution -Divert water through administrative and legislative channels -Release more environmental water at the right times -Divert water through administrative and legislative channels -Buybacks -Dictate water diversions -Enforce marketbased penalties -Farmer investment in infrastructure -Modernization projects 269 Farmer Problem Definition -Invasive fish species -Over development along riverbanks -Over-watering Farmer’s Proposed Policy Solution -Programs to improve water quality, i.e., reducing invasive fish populations, revegetation programs -Irregular weather patterns as part of Australian conditions -Identifying locally specific water needs -Community-led initiatives to conserve water -Long-term drought mitigation projects -Publicly funded infrastructure -Government accountability framework for third-party impacts of increasing flows -Government releasing too much environmental water from the dams Overallocation -Water the property of the Crown and highest buyers -Water a commodity or financial instrument -Buybacks -Market-based instruments that deliver the highest monetary value for water -Increasing regulations -Water is the property of farmers and communities -Long-term values of water -Securing existing water allocations -Reducing new allocations -Securing allocations in established communities Environmental damage on farms -Farm-level problem -Farmer responsibility -Communitywide problem -Co-led farmer/ government initiatives to preserve ecologically sensitive areas on farms Environmental damage to wetlands -Governmentlevel problem -Increasing flows to wetlands -Communitywide problem -Rehabilitation projects Farm debt -Farms are inefficient -Increase production through greater efficiency -Communitywide problem -Effects of secondary industries and Australian rural economy -Interest payment relief -Deferral of interest payments -loan repayment deferral -Long-term restructuring plans Economic hardship in rural communities -Rural community problem -Rural community responsibility -Shared responsibility of governments and farmers -Governmentfunded community support services -Long-term economic restructuring Much of what I have discussed in previous chapters reflects a top-down approach on the part of the government. However, I also uncovered evidence that some in the government hope to see a change in this approach. They want governments to start to look toward communities to ask how change can occur. Such a reorientation could allow for a 270 more deliberative and non-hierarchal approach to policy development in the Basin. For example, Tony McLoed (General Manager, Water Management, MDBA) told me that he believes that the Australian system of sharing water between people within a highly variable system, while having relatively low amounts of regulatory supply, is amongst the best in the world. He believes that the systems in place of rationing and sharing water are incredibly well developed and that over the last ten years, they have moved toward a more sustainable footing through the Basin plan. He also told me that the Australian water user community understands all the nuances of water and that “people are highly articulate on these matters” (T. McLoed, personal communication, 2016). McLoed added, “the collective wisdom of the water users is not to be underestimated either, in fact, it’s vast; they literally bet their farms on water access.” When speaking with the irrigation community, McLoed is always impressed with the knowledge the community has about water management. He believes that “the leadership of the sector realizes the benefits of understanding all these moving parts” and that they “also realize that you cannot govern how much it rains” (T. McLoed, personal communication, 2016). These statements demonstrate a recognition among some in the government that the farm community relies strongly on the collective wisdom of farmers, and they want that wisdom to be better utilized. It would appear that, at least for some in government, farmers have made an impression. McLeod’s comments highlight the significance of social trust in forming the kind of open dialogue needed for deliberative democratic engagement. His voice appears to represent a divergent view from many in government as he tries to articulate a recognition of farmers' contributions as an important step toward open dialogue and deeper understanding. 271 Social networks can be fostered between green advocates, government agents, and farmers. Folke et al. (2005) have written that for community-based conservation to be successfully incorporated, social memory and social capital should be strengthened (Folke et al., 2005). The discourse of community-centrism fosters engagement in communities and helps improve trust among parties. The policy enforcement mechanisms that develop as a result of the discourse tend to reinforce trust, encourage a sense of community, and support social networks among the various stakeholders (Ruiz-Mallen & Corbera, 2013). The environmental values of the larger society can thus often be seen reflected at the farm level. However, it must be understood that these types of initiatives depend on the support of the broader community. If society values efficiency and low-cost production above all else, these values influence the ways that farmers must treat their land. If productivity is valued above all else, there is little incentive for farmers to increase their environmental efforts. Further, farmers require social feedback for their efforts. Successful environmental management requires that farmers, government representatives and environmental advocates join together and build social communities to effectively communicate their efforts and ideas with one another. Table 10- Transcripts, Metaphors and Rhetorical Devices & Policy, Legislation and Actions. Community-Centrism Discourses: Transcripts & Policy, Legislation and Actions in the MDB Transcripts (Scott, 1992), Metaphors and Policy, Legislation and Actions Taken Rhetorical Devices (Dryzek, 2012) Transcripts, words and actions associated with a particular role and set of beliefs. Includes metaphors, euphemisms, gestures, rhetorical devices, and linguistic habits. COMMUNITY-CENTRISM -Various community-based water level monitoring -community -bottom-up approach and reporting -collective wisdom -Strategic community-determined water buybacks -environmental stewards -Nesting boxes initiative 272 -grassroots -local knowledge -knock down effects -community-based solutions -localism -Farm-based initiatives to control invasive species and revitalize Murray Cod populations -Strategic research that engages local farmers and communities throughout the process Conclusion As is discussed in this chapter, community-centrism draws attention to the value of retaining strong rural communities. Farmers do not act alone; they depend on local towns, a reliable labour force, multigenerational continuity, and strong familial structures to have the support and desire to remain in farming. The interviews with farmers demonstrated that community-based outcomes were a key motivating factor in their lives. This sense of community and connection can be extended to the ways that farmers view the land in which they live. The farmer is ideally situated to observe all the holistic connections that exist over an extended period and in complex natural environments. Farm-level outcomes depend on a wide range of local variables, such as soil type and water table levels. In addition, the value of knowledge is determined by the social relationships of actors, and these relationships must be strong. The social relationship between the farmer and the extension/ government expert, for example, can determine how much governmental policies will influence a farmer’s decision-making. If the farmer does not believe that the government representative is fully invested in policy outcomes, the farmer has little reason to trust government information or recommendations. Further, the farmer sees it as the government's responsibility to work toward gaining that trust through direct involvement in the community. The farmer, therefore, must believe that the actors providing information are heavily invested in the potential outcomes of acting on that advice. Although government gives more weight to scientific knowledge in policymaking, this knowledge is only useful if applied to local conditions. More than an initial investment in science and 273 technology is needed; understanding the effectiveness of a policy measure from the farmer's perspective is essential. Community-centrism brings locally based community knowledge to the fore. By focusing on the social life of rural communities, community-centrism helps us recognize how social outcomes have significant economic and environmental consequences. Farmers' daily interactions with the land situate them as important environmental land managers. Farmers in the MDB routinely employ various ecological management practices (Berkes et al., 2000). However, none of this would be possible without the support of the broader community and the resources to carry out these activities. Culture, the sets of practices and beliefs developed through human communities, determine how we interact with the land. Culture provides a set of instructions about how to live on the land. The way we treat the land is representative of the health of human cultures, and human social relationships are a significant determinant of environmental outcomes. Murray Bookchin argued that the roots of ecological problems are closely tied to human social problems and can be solved by reorganizing society along more ethical lines. Bookchin’s approach acknowledged the co-dependent relationships between human societies and natural systems (Bookchin, 1994). Social justice is at the very heart of environmental justice. Low-income, minority, and rural populations are disproportionately vulnerable to the impacts of environmental destruction. Without a community-based approach, farmers and the environment are likely to suffer. As the examples in this chapter demonstrate, the potential contributions of farmers in terms of an effective and integrated approach to water management practices are not being fully realized. However, through an analysis of community-centrism and its potential 274 to shape bureaucratic planning, we can begin to shift the conversation about water reform toward the interactions between social, ecological, and economic needs. 275 Chapter 6: Recommendations and Conclusions This work addresses how environmental discourses shape the parameters of acceptable policy choices in the MDB and subsequent outcomes. I asked what the defining discourses were in the MDB and how some discourses have gained more influence than others. I asked what forms of knowledge these discourses legitimize and how this impacts policy. Further, I inquired as to what alternative perspectives, knowledges, and policy options are excluded, and what would be the policy implications of these alternative perspectives? As we have seen through this analysis, administrative rationalism has had a pervasive impact on government policymaking in the MDB. At the same time, the influence of economic rationalism in Australia, closely associated with the era of neoliberalism in much of the world, has set the parameters for acceptable social interventions in crises situations. Governments try to navigate the interests of farmers by putting in place collaborative processes and democratic institutions meant to facilitate a more dynamic and responsive approach. However, as observed, these processes and institutions are influenced by discursive frameworks. These discourses have both productive and disciplinary effects on policy development. For example, green environmentalism has impacted conceptions of the environment, which inform how actors think about and address problems. Understanding nature as separate from people, and the limited role that people play in the well-being of natural systems, has profoundly impacted how policymakers develop environmental interventions to deal with crises. Throughout these pages, it has been argued that it is critically important to understand how different discourses shape and limit our capacity to respond to serious environmental crises. The problems in the MDB call for a pragmatic approach that incorporates the knowledge of farmers and the science-based 276 approach of the MDBA. A deeper understanding of how discourses shape decision-making is essential. Each adaptation option and any decision about the governance and institutional arrangements for adaptation is underpinned by a set of values associated with ideas that determine what are considered worthwhile adaptation actions and what are not (Jacob et al., 2010; Wolf & Moser, 2011; Spence et al., 2011). In the first part of this analysis, I discussed the importance of administrative rationalism in shaping how the government has approached policy in the MDB. While administrative rationalism is often defined by its tendency to rely on scientific evidence and expert knowledge, this case shows how much of the information that is gathered and relied upon in administratively ‘rational’ processes can be problematic for being either incomplete or based on evidence from limited sources and gathered over limited timeframes. In this case, it appears that the government tended to rely substantively on evidence that supported the plan instead of seeking out the best and most diverse sources of knowledge. There was a strong political imperative to support the plan. Consequently, perhaps without an entirely conscious motive, government actors sought out the science that supported their goals. This conclusion is supported by evidence presented by Colloff et al., (2021) that there is a strong inclination towards ‘administrative capture’ in the case of the MDB. Colloff et al. (2021) find that publications and public comments were controlled by decision makers' contracts, intellectual property rights assignments, and control over what information was allowed to be publicly available. Further, in some cases, threats to withdraw funding were also made. Colloff et al. (2021) observe that scientists trusted by decision-makers tend to share similar worldviews, and their influence on policy is built on reinforcing each other’s views. My own research indicates that these problems 277 were endemic. The government’s reaction has been characterized by most farmers I spoke with as ‘knee jerk’ or ‘reactive’ instead of deliberative and scientifically grounded. Government representatives tended to prioritize scientific information over locally based knowledge. Discussions with farmers reveal that while playing a vital role in policy development, science cannot be used in isolation from other forms of knowledge, particularly the lived experience and local knowledge of farmers. In addition, after speaking about the process with farmers, civil servants, and some scientists, it is clear that the process was too rushed to have considered the full scope of scientific evidence available, with no time for extended analysis, and certainly not with strong feedback loops. The dangers of relying too much on modernist and centralized planning are not limited to communist states; democratic governments and the bureaucratic institutions within them that develop an autonomous identity are also susceptible to pushing their own agenda, which can undermine democratic values and decision-making. Arturo Escobar comments in some detail about the dangers of high modernism in democratic states; he writes, Perhaps no other concept has been so insidious, no other idea gone so unchallenged, as modern planning. The narratives of planning and management always presented as “rational”, and “objective” are essential to developers. A blindness to the role of planning in the normalization and control of the social world is present also in environmental managerialism (Escobar, 1996, p. 50). Some may argue that administrative rationalism has largely been supplanted by economic rationalism as the dominant discourse. However, this research suggests that in 278 the case of the MDB, both have a strong influence over policymaking, and in many cases, serve to reinforce the other. We saw from many of the examples, that economic rationalism created a need for administrative rationalism where it may not have existed in the past. For instance, buyback programs and the commodification of water as a tradable asset created the need for more government oversight. Interestingly, economic rationalism was a strong discourse among farmers and governments alike in rural Australia. In both cases, economic rationalism limited how farmers and government representatives understood the problems in the MDB and the kinds of solutions they envisioned. Farmers internalized the discourse of economic rationalism and, for the most part, believed that the economic hardships they encountered were largely the result of their own shortcomings and not a result of the economic reality and the resource limitations they encountered. It was easy to point to the few farmers who remained afloat during the drought and think that the rest must have just done something wrong. Further, even though farmers generally shared the same ideas as governments in terms of their internalization of economic rationalism as an ideological framework, government officials often characterized farmers differently. Some officials accused farmers of “simply looking for a handout.” However, because farmers internalized this type of rhetoric, they avoided any type of policy reform that remotely resembled government assistance, even in cases where such assistance could result in government profits in the longer term. The level of distrust and anxiety about government interventions is very high in the MDB, and farmers tend to be free-market-oriented in rural Australia and are fundamentally opposed to government support. At the same time, the government tends to portray farmers 279 as, as one government official remarked, “wingers.” Another government official went as far as to say that successful farmers do not complain and that there is a “welfare mentality” among some farmers. From my observations, this signified a dismissive attitude and represented a false characterization. In the general public in Australia, though, there is a popular disdain for welfare, and it has become a point of contention that governments have been able to rally people around successfully. Nonetheless, farmers are heavily impacted by free markets and government regulations. What often gets lost in the dominant narratives is the very real and sometimes tragic economic circumstances that farmers face. The realities of international competition, low food prices, and high input costs make farming perhaps the most unstable and unpredictable business a person can engage in. Further, we can lose sight of the vital need farmer’s fill; without them, we would simply not eat. For this reason, offering special considerations and incentives seems to make sense. The social value of farming and the responsibility of all of us to ensure that farming is maintained as an economically viable enterprise is simply ignored. Further, in the end, we all bear the weight of an industrial food system that does not consider human and environmental values. As Bill McKibben writes, “If the damage to community is arguable, an industrialized food system has other costs that are both more prosaic and more obvious. Part of the reason for that low, low price for food is that we pay many fewer farmers a smaller percentage of our food dollars” (McKibben, 2007). In a world of increasing scarcity, malnutrition, and drought, we have a shared responsibility and incentive to ensure the success of farmers. Economic rationalism puts the success of farmers squarely on the individual farmer and leaves entire communities that rely on those farmers vulnerable to economic ruin. If 280 we are to survive and flourish as a society, we must understand that our collective success depends on the success of farmers. Their failures will invariably affect every one of us. As Bill McKibben notes, a world that focuses too much on individual freedom and responsibility is one that ignores the breadth of human potential and sabotages our very chances of survival in a world of increasing scarcity, “…the increased sense of community and heightened skill at democratic decision making that a more local economy implies will not simply increase our levels of satisfaction with our lives but will also increase our chances of survival. Hyper-individualism is not just lonely; it’s also, in the world we are starting to see emerge around us, insecure and foolhardy” (McKibben, 2007, 231). Democratic pragmatism also had productive and disciplinary effects on the deliberative process in the Basin. While democratic pragmatism appears to represent a clear path towards collaborative governance within a polycentric system, we saw that it had many constraints in practice. For example, the top down, and hurried nature of the process, characteristics associated with administrative rationalism, meant most farmers felt the process was deeply flawed. Further, power dynamics were not well addressed through the deliberative process. Collaborative efforts were also hindered by deep divisions within the farming community regarding the types of approaches that the government should use. Those most dissatisfied with the plan, particularly farmers who experienced serious damage due to flooding, pointed to mismanagement as the cause of the problem. At the time of the interviews in 2016, farms were flooding, and farmers were experiencing significant losses. 2016 was the wettest year in over a hundred years, but farmers were unsure about getting a full water entitlement for the spring/summer season. More moderate farmers, while still 281 firmly opposed to the plan as is, were trying to work with the government to get what they needed, as they saw it as impossible to fight them. Farmers reported that they were trying to find a viable approach to dealing with the government but also trying to achieve results they could live with and send a strong message that communities are being damaged. From the outset, farmers and governments assumed that there could be no collective wins through the negotiation process. The government knew what they had come to do, and what they hoped to achieve before the process had begun. Farmers inevitably responded by digging their heals firmly into the ground and hoping to gain the most from the process for themselves. Such a reaction, I argue, was an inevitable consequence of the governments posturing from the outset. Should they have chosen to take an approach that demonstrated an openness to alternative suggestions and even to potentially change their goals, farmers would have been more receptive to the process. From the perspective of most farmers, I spoke with, the efforts at democratic decision-making were largely topdown and did not take into consideration views that were outside of the structured consultative agenda. The consequences of such an approach were a breakdown of trust between all parties involved and a failure to incorporate valuable insights that fell outside the government’s agenda. As was discussed in detail in the section on democratic pragmatism, there were important ‘constraints’ to realizing a truly authentic process of democratic engagement. The literature on water governance strongly supports polycentric approaches, particularly more collaborative approaches (Pahl-Wostl et al. 2013; Garrick et al., 2018; Ansell & Gash, 2008). However, power dynamics can interfere in efforts towards more collaborative approaches (Behagel and Arts, 2014; Zeitoun and Allan, 2008). Focusing our attention on 282 these power dynamics and how to address them in practical ways could contribute significantly to more collaborative approaches. Further, while some scholars examine discursive factors that may limit the capacity for polycentric governance (Wyborn et al., 2023), there have not been attempts in the literature to characterize how a specific group of stakeholders, like farmers, construct their understanding of the issues. This detailed discursive analysis situates the voices of farmers as central to understanding the conditions under which they may be engaged in the collaborative process. The analysis of farmer discourse in this case offers insight into how those affected by policies understand the impacts of these policies on their lives. Resistance to the dominant discursive framings of an issue is better understood by uncovering the assumptions and underlying motivations of individual actors affected by policies. For governments to reconcile competing interests and values, they must understand the underlying motivations of actors. As we saw in the chapter on democratic pragmatism, more informal settings and conversations can create bonds of social trust and address power imbalances. For example, one-on-one casual meetings between farmers and government representatives can foster opportunities for communication more than in formal settings. Further, alternative forms of communicating through rhetoric, storytelling, or expressions of emotion can also open pathways for more authentic deliberation. (Dryzek, 2000, pp. 163-175). We observed that while there may be attempts to include a plurality of voices in the deliberation process, not all voices are treated with the same value. Collaborative approaches are grounded in the assumption that all actors can contribute to the process and impact outcomes. Where actors have equal power, this may be possible. However, in the case of water governance, the actors that come together in the collaborative process are 283 rarely equal (Brisbois & de Loë, 2016). Some actors have more power to influence the collaborative process than others. Further, the state remains the dominant decision-making authority (Brisbois & de Loë, 2016). So-called ‘rational’ discourse is often associated with the most powerful voices and actors (Dryzek, 2000, pp. 163-175). Looking at the ways discourses can both silence and empower actors, as is attempted throughout these pages, allows for marginalized voices to be heard and for hierarchal power relations to be challenged. In model deliberative processes, participants are open to changing their opinions through persuasion. Deliberative processes are characterized by respect, sharing of information, and allowing all actors to participate freely (Dryzek, 2000). This means that everyone should have the opportunity to participate in the process and learn skills like cultivating respect and reciprocity as needed in order to actively stay engaged in the process. In other words, deliberation is a skill that one needs to practice in order to improve. In the case of the MDB, farmers were expected to understand and participate in a process they were wholly unfamiliar with. The process was also initiated in a period of tension with pressure to realize goals with minimal emphasis on procedures and methods of deliberation. Ensuring that farmers have the resources to actively engage in the process would help foster more authentic efforts at deliberation. Power dynamics will always have some bearing on deliberation. Therefore, the emphasis must be on the right to participate in meaningful and authentic ways (Huitema et al. 2009). Expanding the types of permissible communications is one way to help increase the chances of producing an authentic deliberative process. In the case of the MDB, the variety of tools and platforms for communicating views and opinions could be significantly 284 expanded. It is important to recognize that limited platforms, such as town hall meetings, are a constraint for farmers. Bearing this in mind will help to construct new possibilities for alternative means of communication. The strength of a deliberative process cannot be judged solely on its capacity to deliver on individual policy outcomes. There are many benefits to a careful and inclusive (sometimes long) deliberative process. For instance, the process has legitimacy in the eyes of the participants despite potentially undesirable outcomes. Bonds of respect and reciprocity can also be created, which foster positive grounds for future deliberative processes. Further, the process can uncover the underlying values that motivate actors and uncover potential alternative policy choices that address underlying values instead of just immediate policy concerns. The case study also presented a much deeper question about how we should think about environmental management and long-term sustainability. Agriculturally productive areas of rural Australia are generally not considered ‘natural’ environmental habitats by the government or city dwellers. However, what most people do not understand is that human interventions like the barrages that were erected along the lower lakes to create an artificial freshwater system, or the dams further upstream, have led to such massive changes in the landscape that it is impossible to determine with any certainty what constitutes a ‘natural environment.’ In his 1989 book, “The End of Nature,” Bill McKibben wrote that it would soon become impossible to consider any part of the natural world as separate from people. The idea that the only environments that are protected from the impacts of people can be conceptualized as ‘natural’ is deeply problematic in a world where every inch of space, if not put to productive use, is in some other way impacted by human 285 activity. The protected areas of the Coorong and Lower Lakes, the regions in which the federal government spent nearly thirteen billion dollars to protect, are not natural ecosystems. These environments have been impacted by human development going back over a hundred years. It is necessary to reflect on our understanding of how our relationship with nature has evolved to a point where it is foolhardy to believe that nature is something outside of us that needs to be protected from us. It is only through an acceptance of our worldwide impact that we can form a new basis of understanding that emphasizes the potential symbiotic relationships that can exist, as opposed to the opportunistic relationship of exploitation. This does not mean that we should not protect certain environments or use nature to our advantage wherever possible, but rather, to understand better the dynamic relationships that exist both in ‘nature’ and in productive environments, both of which are touched by human activity. Many of the farmers I spoke with deeply concerned with environmentalism, but felt the government was trying to appease the ‘greens’ in vote-rich urban constituencies. In several cases, however, farmers agreed with the goals of the greens and supported their overall agenda. However, they were angered by the portrayal of farmers as enemies of environmentalism. They told me that farmers are not given any credit for their environmental initiatives, and they often proudly pointed to the hundreds of different bird species that live on their farms. Many also thought that the government was making the situation worse by doing nothing to dispel the stereotypes of farmers being poor stewards of the environment. This characterization was a cause of great frustration for farmers, many of whom believed they had successfully maintained working farms along natural environments for over a hundred years. 286 Conceptualizations of human beings as outside of nature not only misguide us but undermine our role as caretakers of the earth. As Arturo Escobar so eloquently understood, nature is constructed through the full range of human activities and the cultures and technologies that define those activities; he writes, Although many people seem to be aware that nature is “socially constructed,” many also continue to give a relatively unproblematic rendition of nature. Central to this rendition is the assumption that “nature” exists beyond our constructions. Nature, however, is neither unconstructed nor unconnected. Nature’s constructions are affected by history, economics, technology, science, and myths of all kinds as part of the “traffic between nature and culture. (Escobar, 1996, p. 64) As discussed in the chapter on green environmental discourse, there is a danger of advancing romantic images of natural environments that in no way represent the historic character of a given place. As Bruce Pascoe explains in his book, “Dark Emu,” there is very little about the modern Australian landscape that resembles the natural environment in which Australian Aborigines lived and farmed for thousands of years before the European settlers (Pascoe, 2017). There is a real danger in rewriting history and imagining natural spaces in ways that in no way represent the past. As Kate Soper explains, Ecological critics of the atomizing and destructive effects of instrumental rationality need to be careful in redeploying the organicist imagery that has been such a mainstay of right-wing rhetoric. Romantic and aestheticizing approaches to nature have as readily lent themselves to the expression of reactionary sentiment as sustained and radical critique of industrialism, and this means that left-wing ecologists, however understandably keen they may be to re-size this tradition of 287 romanticism for their own purposes, are dealing with a problematic legacy. (Soper, 1995, p. 150) A key challenge in the MDB will be to develop positive collaboration between the government, farmers, green advocates, and other key stakeholders (including Aboriginal peoples). In this way, the interests of all parties can be addressed in the long term. However, since the drought, that trust has been dramatically undermined. Trust could be restored by adopting an approach that recognizes the capacity of farmers to play an integral part in environmental management. While managing water effectively in the current climate is challenging, an approach highlighting social values and the community’s needs could contribute to a significant rethinking of regional policy development. While collaborative approaches to water management try to incorporate as many people as possible within the consultative agenda, community-centrism focuses on the nature of the relationships between these people. It focuses on building social trust and deconstructing hierarchal power structures. As some of the examples in this work demonstrate, power, and perceptions of power can interfere with more collaborative approaches to polycentric governance. Social ecology, the critical social theory founded by author and activist Murray Bookchin in the 1960s, provided the foundations for helping me identify another way of understanding these water management decisions in the MDB. Social ecologists’ critique social, political, and environmental trends and advocate for the reformation of society along ethical, ecological, and community lines. Building on social ecology, I have presented a community-centrist discourse that provides an alternative way of understanding social and environmental issues and encourages more direct democratic 288 engagement. As argued throughout this work, the environmental future of Australia, and the world, depends on the ways we understand, conceptualize, frame, and discuss key concepts. Authentic deliberation among parties allows them to become aware of the interests of other parties and the collective interests of vested groups (Dryzek, 2000). Often, negotiations are viewed as a zero-sum game, with the interests of individual actors in competition with one another as the focal point. As is discussed in detail in the chapter on community-centrism, the other dominant discourses tend to undermine or ignore the importance of community-based outcomes. Instead, focusing on collective interests tends to reframe the deliberative process positively by focusing away from the traditional emphasis on individual interests. It is a mistake to believe that the deliberative process should be relegated to the existing representative institutions or the legal systems of democratic states. As is discussed in detail in the chapter on democratic pragmatism, there are many disciplines that limit authentic democratic participation within states. Free trade and mobility issues associated with the demands of living in a capitalist state often contribute to these types of disciplines. Civil society and the public sphere are important spaces for deliberation. A community-centrist approach reminds us that farmers are not facing problems alone; not only do they support whole communities, but they have whole communities available to them in their attempts to influence the deliberative process. In this work, community-centrist environmental discourse is presented as an alternative to the dominant discourses that have characterized decision-making in the MDB, particularly the green discourse that has dominated the discourse among environmentalists like Tim Flannery and Richard Kingsford, among others. This work has 289 advanced the perspective that farmers can make a significant contribution to environmental stewardship. I have advanced a ‘bottom-up’ approach to environmental planning and management wherein local knowledge and planning are given greater value. This orientation focuses on how institutional arrangements and policy instruments might be deployed to support community-based goals and capacities (Robinson et al., 2015). Community-centrism places human social relationships at the heart of environmental decision-making, providing a reconceptualization of environmental problem-solving and surfacing economic, environmental, and social opportunities. Building on the insights of Murray Bookchin, Elinor Ostrom and others – but grounded in the voices of the farmers I interviewed in this case – community-centrism focuses on the role of community-based engagement. Many of the examples in this work illustrate how hierarchal social structures and decision-making have hindered the capacity of governments to address the crisis in the MDB in a way that is responsive to both human communities and the environment. The ways that people interact with each other are often determined by the social structures they have grown accustomed to. We cannot easily grasp the ways that the social structures that dictate much of our everyday lives also limit our choices. Social ecology, the critical social theory founded by author and activist Murray Bookchin in the 1960s, critiques these social, political, and environmental trends. He advocated for the reformation of society along ethical, ecological, and communitarian lines. Social ecology encourages a transformative position on social and environmental issues and promotes direct democratic action. As an ideological framework, social ecology envisions a moral economy that moves beyond scarcity and hierarchy, toward a world that reharmonizes human communities with the 290 natural world while celebrating diversity, creativity, and freedom. The theory suggests that the roots of current ecological and social problems can be traced to hierarchical modes of social organization, and these hierarchies cannot be resisted by individual actions alone but must be addressed by collective activity grounded in radically democratic ideals. Similarly, Thomas Hyed and Nick Brooks argue that the effectiveness of adapting to climate change depends on the cultural fabric of the group involved in the implementation process. Culture encompasses the beliefs, values and practices that constitute a human group and the material artifacts that allow for the production of goods and services. However, culture is subject to change through the interactions it shares with other groups, particularly in an increasingly globalized world (Hyed & Brooks, 2009, pp. 270-271). An acute awareness of the ways in which our culture shapes our understanding of nature and environmental problems and can limit the possibilities for action is needed; this has been the aim of my research. Social practices, beliefs and ideas are at the heart of how we problematize our relationship with nature. Human cultures, and the social interactions between people, are determining factors in the ways that we also relate to nature. Social ecologists point to social conditioning as the root cause of environmental problems. As Kate Soper explains, “Our developed powers over nature have brought about a situation in which we are today far more at the mercy of what culture enforces than subject to biological dictate” (Soper, 1995, 140). Soper argues that many miseries afflicting the world could easily be eradicated if not for the entrenched social conditioning responsible (Soper, 1995). Change is often determined or influenced by those who have social capital. As was discussed in the section on administrative rationalism, scientists and experts have social 291 capital that governments rely on to gather support from the broader community. Other personalities, however, can work toward gaining social capital through activism and networking. These actors can have a tremendous influence on the nature of discussions. In this case study, I found many of these strong voices among the women in the farming communities. It was apparent that male farmers often tended to take on all the personal responsibility for the failures they experienced in their businesses, despite external conditions. However, their wives tended to get angrier and more vocal about how outside influences had affected them. In many ways, these communities are traditional in their family and community structure, so the farm losses have had a considerable impact throughout the fabric of the traditional society, with many women going back to work or leaving the farm (and their husbands) for a better life in the towns and cities. Many of the women who remained, however, took strong leadership roles. They relied on the social capital they had gained from being such a strong and stable part of their local communities. One of my most enthusiastic interviewees, Helon Dalton, has become a member of the NSW legislative assembly and has represented Murray since March 2019. She is a member of the Shooters, Fishers and Farmers Party and has since 2016 been working diligently to gain media and government attention in the MDB. It is also interesting to note that all the farmers I spoke with wanted to be identified in my research findings. They have never felt heard by the government, the media, or even researchers. They clearly understood the need to gain social capital by communicating their needs. During the drought, many people were touched by suicide, divorce, bankruptcy, and many other problems, and while many acknowledge that the government could not stop the drought, they think more could have been done to maintain the social fabric of the 292 communities. I have argued that while the actions of the government may have been necessary, the examples I give demonstrate that by addressing social needs, we often address environmental needs simultaneously. Further, in cases where the social good is in direct conflict with environmental interests, governments can develop a more cooperative and socially responsible approach by looking toward community engagement as the focal point for developing effective solutions to environmental problems. There are numerous possible ways of framing environmental problems, and the resolutions that might follow from these frames are critical; work needs to be done to understand how specific ways of framing an issue lead to different policy prescriptions and outcomes. Further, more research needs to be undertaken to understand how various actors are situated within environmental discourses to understand how change can occur. In other words, how we frame problems depends primarily on the culture of the community in which decisions are made. From a constructivist lens, many have argued that the concept of universal truth is simply an exercise in cultural imperialism. From a constructivist perspective, values are far more important than supposed ‘truths’ when arriving at a conclusion. While science is undoubtedly essential in helping us arrive at decisions, ultimately, our collective social values decide what is important and worth defending or preserving. However, we cannot deny shared structures of cognition. We live within certain frames of understanding that determine how we see the world. Therefore, it is important to deconstruct these frames and critically evaluate the assumptions that dictate our worldviews. The role of shared social values is fundamental to our understanding of how to act toward each other and, by extension, toward the earth. 293 Appendix 1: Interview Questions Farmers -How long have you been on your farm? -Did you inherit the farm? -What do you grow? -Who lives on your farm and who works on the farm? -How has what you grow changed? -Have you experienced water shortages on your farm? If so, can you describe these shortages, i.e., worst years, length of shortage, financial and other kinds of losses? -How are you managing in the context of water shortages? -What are some of the things that you have done to cope with water shortages? -How did your family previously deal with drought? How has that changed if at all? -What considerations do you have to account for when you take actions to address water shortages? -What approaches have worked for you, and which approaches are not working? -How has the government helped you with water shortages? -What is your opinion about specific government programs (e.g., environmental buybacks, water trading, drought assistance – prompt only if necessary)? -Have you participated in one or more water related programs? If so, what was your experience? -How did the program respond to your needs? -What would you change about the program, if anything? 294 -Have you participated in any on-farm water conservation programs supported by the government? If so, which ones? What was your experience with the program(s), how, if at all, would you change the program? To what extent did the program take into consideration your knowledge and experience? -What other water saving programs or initiatives have you participated in? Can you describe your experiences? -Can you think of any on-farm water saving initiatives that you think should be funded by the government? -What forums are available for you to give governments, at various levels, input into how to deal with water shortages? -Are there any other comments/ concerns that you would like to contribute at this time? Federal and Provincial/ State Governments -Generally, how would you describe water shortages in the MDB? -What specific programs are you responsible for (e.g., environmental buyback, water trading, drought assistance) -Would you say that the program(s) have succeeded in meeting their objectives? How so? -How does your government hope to improve the program(s)? -What role do you think the government should play in helping farmers address water shortages? -Which on-farm water saving initiatives should the government support? Which should not be supported? 295 -What efforts are made within your department to increase the collective knowledge of the impact of water shortages on farm communities (for example, periodic scientific assessments, literature reviews, surveys of local knowledge)? -In your opinion, who are the key policy stakeholders? -Can you describe the process of identifying relevant participants in the adaptation planning and decision-making process? -How is information gathered from these participants? How would you describe the consultation process? Appendix 2: - Farmer Interviewees' Information CROPS LOCATION FARM SIZE (CLOSEST TOWN) (ESTIMATED ACRES) Allen Clark Finley 2,000 Barry Kirkup Griffith 1,500 Lucin, alfalfa, canola, oats, rice, soybean, peppermint Rice, cattle, canola, soybean, fava bean, wheat, barley, lucin, sheep, sorghum Bernard Walsh Narrandara 1,300 Rice, corn, wheat, sheep Bruce Atkinson Finley 10,000 Sheep, wheat Darren Debortoli Griffith 7,000 Debbie Buller Griffith 2,000 Derek Schoen Griffith unknown Grapes, rice Rice, corn, oats, hay, wheat, barley, sheep, canola Angus beef cattle, embryo recipient cows, lambs, wheat, oats, barley, canola, lupines Gary & Margaret Knagge Griffith 500 Rice, merino lamb for wool, oats, barley Finley 4,000 Wheat, canola, barley, fava beans, chickpea, lentil, soybean, maize Griffith 2,000 Helon Dalton Griffith 1,500 Rice, wheat, canola, sheep Rice, corn, oats, hay, wheat, barley, sheep, canola, cotton, cattle Ian Mason Griffith Griffith 1,000 7,500 Rice, sheep, wheat, canola Rice, grapes, wheat, canola NAME Geoff & Jenny McCloud Hayden Cudmore 296 John Bonetti John Hand Griffith 1,500 Louise Burge Griffith unknown Rice, wheat Rice, wheat, clover, canola, barley, peas, merino sheep for wool Malcolm Taylor Cobram 300 Plums, rice for scientific study Richard Sagwood Corowa 2,500 Specialty seeds, canola, lucin, alfalfa Shelley Scoullar Griffith 500 Rice, wheat Tony Piggins Wabundry 550 Sheep, wheat, canola, lucin 297 References Abel, N., Wise, R. 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