Petter Holm

The Dynamics of Institutionalization: Transformation Processes in Norwegian Fisheries

The article was written with support from the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation Grant No. 91-16567A and Norwegian Research Council Grant No. 1301-500.136. For helpful comments and suggestions, I wish to thank Richard Apostle, Hans Kristian Hernes, Svein Jentoft, Eva Munk-Madsen, Leigh Mazany, Knut H. Mikalsen, Arthur L. Stinchcombe, and two anonymous ASQ reviewers. This article considers the fundamental paradox of new institutional theories of organizations: How can actors change institutions if their actions, intentions, and, rationality are all conditioned by the very institution they wish to change? I argue that the problem of institutional change can be solved if institutions are seen as nested systems, that is, interconnected, multilevel systems in which each action-level or arena simultaneously is a framework for action and a product of action. This is demonstrated in an analysis of institutional change processes affecting the rise and fall of a specific institutional form, the mandated sales organization (MSO), in Norwegian fisheries. After a brief discussion of the problem of institutional change, I describe how the MSO form was shaped in processes that themselves were structured by institutions. I then show how the interconnection between the practical and political levels of action through feedback loops can shed light on the cumulative character of the MSO reform. Lastly, I discuss the interaction between practices, interests, and ideas in the process that led to the downfall of the MSO form.-

Framing Fish, Making Markets: The Construction of Individual Transferable Quotas (ITQs):

The quota that is on offer, which would cost you in the order of NOK 1.0–1.3 million if you got the bid, is a right to fish a specific amount of a certain kind of fish. ‘9–10m’ is the length of the fishing vessel in relation to which the quota is defined. ‘gr 1’ is short for Group1, a basic category of fishing vessel defined within the management system for the coastal cod fishery in Norway. There are two such basic categories (Group1 and Group2), the first targeting full-time professional fishermen, the second reserved for part-timers. In 2005, the quota for a Group1 vessel of 9–10 meters would have been 65380 of ‘cod equivalents.’ As the above suggests, the commodity we have before us is a complex thing. Every phrase in the ad, including the date at the start and the phone number at the end, is packed with significance. While you, the model reader of this chapter, have no problem with the numbers that frame the ad (date and phone number), you are not pre-equipped with the lexicon required to decode the meaning of its key concepts. We shall try to turn this quality of the tradable quota into our advantage. Still, we would not be surprised if you, at this point, see the quota and the cod as just another case of fishy objects. At the end of the chapter, however, you will learn to appreciate these things in all their intricate beauty. Let us begin with the obvious. The ad indicates that a market for fish quotas exists. From the specifications in the ad (9–10m; gr 1; Nordland) and the rule systems these refer to, we understand that the fish quota is a legal construct. Without a formal apparatus to define and produce the fish quota as a stable

Nordic experience of fisheries management. Seen in relation to the reform of the EU Common Fisheries Policy.

The waters surrounding the Nordic countries are rich in fish resources. Up to this date fisheries has been among the most important productive sectors in the Nordic economies, and in the Faroe Isla ...

The Book of Life goes online

generation life barcoder, ‘Tricorder’ edition. 2 After a short walk to your own secret mushroom place, you spot a patch of nice-looking specimens. Caps are 5–10 cm across, with slightly depressed centres. Slightly sticky. Colour brownish to dark brickred. Gills close together. It could be the delicious ‘Flirt’ (Russula vesca). Or is it the poisonous ‘Sickener’ (Russula emetica)? You quickly scan it with the barcoder. There is a barely-audible hum as the device goes online. A few seconds later, the display shows Russula vesca. Great! Scrolling down the tiny screen, you’re informed that its mild flavour goes well with lamb stew. Serve with a light red Italian. You fill the basket, and head to the supermarket for the rest of the ingredients you need to prepare a fine meal. Linnaeus in the sky This sort of scene becomes possible to envisage from Costa and Carvalho’s synopsis on the Barcode of life initiative. 3 At first glance, it has a Star Trek feel to it: a landing party is beamed from the safety of the starship onto some planet ‘where no one has gone before’, equipped with tricorders serving as lifelines and generalised information gadgets. Whereas a real-life version of this scenario might have been dismissed as pure fiction a few years ago, the rapid rise of GSP and mobile ‘phones have made it more realistic. The Barcode of Life Initiative extends just slightly what is now a familiar scene. Instead of dispensing with a map, compass and navigation skills, as the GPS did, the life barcoder promises easy access to the identity of the wildlife along your track. When one is equipped with such a hand-held device, it is as if the mushroom comes fixed with a label. Instead of the cumbersome task of teaching yourself how to be a taxonomist, or bringing one along from the local museum, you simply consult the virtual Linneaus in the sky. From Costa and Carvalho’s fine review, we already know how the Barcode of Life pulls off this feat. The barcoder analyses DNA from a tissue sample taken from the target specimen and links it to a barcode. With this barcode, the identity of your specimen is fixed as a specific location in a DNA-based species classification system, which also provides easy access to other relevant information, be it, in the mushroom case, the appropriate antidote or the wine that best brings out its flavour.