Andrew Brooks on the dangers of simplistic, reductive comparisons
Earlier this year, I was invited to talk about geography at my son’s primary school. His teacher had learned I’d written a children’s atlas and wanted me to explain to the five-and six-year-olds how maps were drawn and why studying geography is important. I started off by asking the pupils which way was north. Sixty hands pointed in all different directions, including up at the ceiling and down at the floor. Once I had orientated them, I asked what they’d draw on a map; some of the answers were good: rivers, bridges, churches; others highlighted what was important to primary school kids: ice cream and football. Next, I asked them, ‘What is geography?’ One girl gave the example of their class project examining the similarities and differences between Bristol and Shanghai.
I have supervised hundreds of geography dissertations at undergraduate and postgraduate level, including wonderful work on diverse topics from field studies of Chinese dam building in Rwanda to ethical fashion in Singapore, and even surf culture in Lisbon. The best work is that which explains why social changes are occurring and makes connections between local issues and global processes. This is challenging to do well for one place, and it’s even more difficult to discuss multiple locations together. However, many students opt for comparative investigations because it seems like an easy option. I try to conceal my disappointment when an undergrad arrives at their first meeting with a proposal that contrasts two places. It’s really difficult to do good comparative research. Especially if since primary school they’ve been taught that geography is all about comparisons.
A student interested in urban geography might want to study gentrification in London and New York. When embarking on such a comparison, undergraduates tend to begin by listing the similarities and differences between the two places. That seems reasonable. So, they might discuss how London is on a river, New York by the coast, Westminster has historic architecture, Manhattan modern skyscrapers, both have similar populations… This is easy. Yet this type of dissertation gets stuck in describing differences rather than the harder, more interesting, and important task of analysing and explaining why gentrification is occurring in either city. My advice is always the same: do one case study well and go deeper, put all of yourself into that single subject rather than trying to do two places in a shallow manner. This is important because the social, political, or economic factors driving a process such as gentrification may not be associated with any of the fundamental contrasts between the two places. Brixton is gentrifying because of what is happening in and around Brixton and it’s connections to the world, not because of its similarities or differences to Brooklyn.
That isn’t for one moment to say all comparative research is bad social science. The problem is that comparative work is often too rudimentary. One place is often simply used as a model against which the other is measured. This tends to establish that first place as ‘the norm’ and the other place as a deviation. So, we might consider a European city such as London or Paris to be the ultimate global metropolis and then think of African and Asian cities as pale imitations of these cultural hearths. This is unfair and undervalues what makes a Lagos or Phnom Penh different, vibrant and exciting; those places are also unique and connected to international patterns of trade and cultural change.
The same follows for other types of reductive comparison. We tend to think of emerging footballing talents as the new Messi or Ronaldo, rather than celebrating talented players for their own unique abilities. Casting a developing star as the heir to a great legacy can place a tremendous burden on young shoulders. We expect them to emulate established greats rather than understanding that their careers will play out in a new context and be connected within a different moment in sporting history, competing against other international players, that will mould their sporting trajectories.
Within geography, comparisons can be more powerful if we think through how particular issues are nested within wider global structures. In my own academic research, I’ve used comparisons to study healthcare systems in sub-Saharan Africa and the UK, cross-border labour in Israel-Palestine and South Africa, and third world debt in the 1980s and 2020s. Through these geographical projects, I try to situate the different places and historical periods within a broader discussion of globalisation, such as the transnational migration of doctors and nurses, the geopolitics of inequality, and the international financial system. I don’t look at two different time periods or countries in isolation but try to understand how each is connected and located within global processes.
A primary school child can tell you about the similarities and differences between Britain and China. It takes a geographer to explain why these exist and explore the global connections that link such diverse places together.
