ARTICLE: On the Curious Disappearance of Human Servitude from General International Law

The following study considers the fragmentation of law which occurred in 1956 with regard to the law on servitude. As States were unwilling to go as far as the Universal Declaration on Human in establishing that "no one shall be held in [...] servitude", the negotiators of the 1956 Supplementary Conventions moved to expunge the very term 'servitude' from the text and to replace it with the phrase 'institutions and practices similar to slavery' which could then be abolished 'progressively and as soon as possible'. The negotiation history of the 1956 Convention clear demonstrate that the Universal Declaration on Human was the elephant in the room and that it ultimately lead to a fragmentation of the law as between general international law manifest in the 1956 Supplementary Convention on the one hand and international human rights law on the other. It is for this reason that, for instance the 2001 UN and 2005 Council of Europe trafficking conventions mention both 'practices similar to slavery' and 'servitude' as types of human exploitation to be suppressed in their definition of 'trafficking in persons'.

A Gendered Profession

A Gendered Profession, RIBA Publications, Oct 2016

For a profession that claims to be so concerned with the needs of society, the continuing gender imbalance in architectural education and practice is a difficult subject. Difficult, because it’s been stagnant for some thirty years. This book seeks to change that.
Beyond the profession, the emergence of fourth wave feminism has broken a twenty-year drought in the discourse[1]. A new generation of feminist critique is emerging, characterised by a broader civic commitment, one fuelled by the recognition that time and again, women and minorities have been the first casualties of neo-liberalism.
Whereas after World War II the architectural profession rallied around its obligation to fulfil a social need, today architecture has all but capitulated its absolute servitude to capitalism. Recognising that feminist thinking is a meaningful response to the inequalities of capitalism, A Gendered Profession will be a forum for a discussion about the failure of our profession – one that is so explicitly concerned with the design of inclusive environments – to resolve its own inequalities. Contributions have been sought and responses elicited from all corners of the discipline to propose strategies, attitudes and solutions to this crisis in representation.
At stake is more than just the lack of female representation. Male architects suffer from the same ingrained mechanisms of gender stereotyping, obliged to place professional commitments above those to their family and children. And while three quarters of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transsexual architects report being comfortable about being open about their sexuality in the workplace, that number drops to just sixteen per cent when on the building site.
A Gendered Profession will aim to perform a diagnostic check of the architecture profession from one end of the spectrum to the other. Whereas much has been written on feminism and architecture, the majority is produced exclusively by women. A Gendered Profession has worked hard towards gender parity in both its contributions and editorial structure and therefore does not limit its understanding of gender to an either/or analogue. The chapters featured in the book are written by artists, academics, practitioners and students.
Through its diverse authorship, this book will provide the first ever attempt to move the debate beyond the tradition of gender-partitioned diagnostic or merely critical discourse on the gender and wider inclusivity debate towards something more propositional, actionable and transformative.

‘Poor prison flowers’: convict mothers and their children in Ireland, 1853-1900

Pregnant women and mothers were among the thousands of individuals who were sentenced to at least three years’ penal servitude and admitted to the nineteenth-century Irish female convict prison. While some babies were born behind bars, others were permitted to accompany their convicted mothers into the prison after the penal practice of transportation had ceased. Other dependent children were separated from their convicted mothers for years, cared for by family members or friends, or accommodated in Ireland’s growing web of institutions. Using individual case studies, this article focuses on convict mothers and their young offspring. It draws attention to the increasing restrictions on the admission of infants that were imposed as the nineteenth century progressed, the problems that children of various ages in the penal system seemed to pose for officials, and the difficulties faced by incarcerated mothers who wished to maintain communication with their offspring. This article argues that while there were benefits to parenting within the confines of the prison, sentences of penal servitude had a significant impact on the lives of dependent offspring by dislocating families, separating siblings, or initiating institutional or other care that broke familial bonds permanently. In so doing, the article reveals attitudes towards motherhood as well as female criminality and institutionalization generally during this period and sheds light on an aspect of convict life unique to the women’s prison.