This chapter focuses on the entanglement between people within sites. Analysing evidence for specialized crafts in emporia, it asks why craftspeople went there, and how they contributed to make these places into hubs of particular social networks. It issues from the key observation that crafting activities in emporia were not only dependent on far-flung networks with other locations, but also on entangled webs of people and processes within the immediate community. The need for access to raw materials, opportunities for learning, markets and, perhaps more than anything, the need for collaboration between specialized artisans, was a decisive incentive for strangers to congregate at specific sites. Craft workers in emporia were dependent on these different elements to practise their trade. As a by-product, their work was able to bridge social relationships, which contributed to the social capital of an otherwise inconsistent community. Such interactions thus gave an unprecedented prominence to weak social ties in the intersections of roles and personhood in individuals, and, more broadly, at the level of the assemblage.

There are two interleaved stories: first the tragic story of occupation, with Feliks Młynarski appointed the head of a German-controlled Emissionsbank headquartered in Kraków, in the rump occupied area of Poland, the so-called Generalgouvernement. Młynarski first asked the approval of the government in exile under General Sikorski, and also was involved in stamping banknotes so that they might be used by the underground. Młynarski also extensively documented the extent to which German policy was creating a destructively high inflation, which fueled a black-market economy. The second story is the adventurous exercise of rescuing the Polish gold reserve by bringing it to France, ending up in 1940 in West Africa under the control of the Vichy French authorities. The BP in London succeeded in taking a case in a New York court, attaching the gold of the Banque de France as a security lest France turn over the Polish gold to the Nazis. At the end of the war, the gold was returned to Warsaw.

This chapter distills practical lessons from real PhD journeys. Each story follows a simple arc: a common pitfall, the adjustment that helped, and the lesson that emerged. Themes include honest communication when you are struggling, engaging seriously with feedback, avoiding burnout through sustainable habits, and taking ownership of research direction. Other stories highlight the trade-off between exploration and commitment, the risks of overextending through side projects, how perfectionism can stall progress, and why resilience matters when publication timelines and reviews go badly. The goal is to make hidden struggles visible and turn them into actionable guidance.

Change isn’t always orderly. Sometimes, it’s messy, emergent, and unpredictable. Chapter 3 introduces an organic perspective – one that sees change as a constant process unfolding through interaction, context, and chance. Instead of controlling change, this approach focuses on sensing, responding, and evolving. Drawing on ideas like complexity theory and informal networks, it reveals a more fluid way of understanding transformation. While it resists neat solutions, this perspective expands how we think about change - and challenges us to embrace uncertainty as part of the process.

In this chapter the author presents a series of impressionistic patient narratives that explore the import of the physician–patient relationship in psychiatric prescribing.

Co-management is in essence about collaboration and participation. In this chapter, definitions are provided for each, with recurring themes identified from definitions of collaboration and collaborative governance. The chapter explores these key themes in relation to the ‘what, who, how and why’ of collaboration, moving to distinguish between cooperation, coordination and collaboration, the nature of leadership in collaboration and the relevance of scale. The chapter then moves on to review the meaning and practice of participation, reflecting on the ‘why, who, how and when’ of participation. Challenges to meaningful participation are identified, noting critique of the adoption of a mechanical, technical approach rather than recognising the political and empowering potential of participation.

Although the musicals with music by Rodgers and words by Hammerstein are often referred to as being by ‘Rodgers and Hammerstein’, this chapter explores the duo’s numerous co-creators, all of whom (some under-credited or, early on, uncredited) were essential in bringing the ideas of Rodgers and Hammerstein to the stage or screen. Among the individuals profiled in the chapter are directors Rouben Mamoulian and Joshua Logan, director–choreographer Agnes de Mille, dance arranger Trude Rittman, orchestrator Robert Russell Bennett, director and manger Jeromy Whyte and set designer Jo Mielziner.

In today’s evolving educational landscape, collaboration and networking are essential for creating an inclusive and engaging learning environment. This chapter invites you to explore how building strong connections with colleagues, your school community, and wider networks can enhance your teaching and professional growth. By collaborating proactively, you can co-develop plans, adapt strategies, assess student progress, and draw on the strengths of others.

At the heart of effective inclusive education lies a shared understanding among all stakeholders. When early childhood communities develop collective commitment to inclusive philosophies, they establish the essential groundwork for sustainable change. This shared vision recognises that inclusion extends beyond physical placement to encompass full participation, valued contribution and authentic belonging. The It takes a village approach acknowledges that inclusion cannot be the responsibility of individual educators working in isolation; rather, it requires coordinated effort across the entire early childhood community. When staff, families and community co-design inclusive principles together, they develop ownership and commitment that withstands the inevitable challenges of implementation.

Working with others is at the heart of inclusive practice. In early childhood education and care, no single professional can meet the full range of strengths, needs and identities that children bring with them. Inclusion becomes possible when educators, families and external professionals think, plan and act together with shared intent. This chapter explores what it means to build strong, respectful and coordinated partnerships across a service and beyond the gate. It positions early childhood education settings as relational spaces where collaboration supports participation, wellbeing and belonging for children with disabilities, developmental differences and neurodivergence, as well as for children and families navigating complex circumstances. Drawing on Australian frameworks and research, the chapter offers practical ways educators can participate confidently in cross-sector collaboration while holding children’s rights, agency, and cultural identities at the centre.

Collaboration is essential to inclusive practice, ensuring that children with disabilities, developmental differences and neurodivergence receive holistic, coordinated and high-quality support. A collaborative, team-based approach allows children to experience inclusive, responsive learning environments where interventions are seamlessly integrated into their everyday experiences. Research has demonstrated that when educators, allied health professionals, and families work together, children’s learning and development are enhanced, leading to greater participation, engagement and wellbeing.

This chapter examines William Burroughs’ extensive and experimental visual art practice, which spanned over four decades and included paintings, collages, photography, and sculpture – most notably his “shotgun paintings.” Often created privately and with utilitarian, even esoteric, intent, Burroughs’ art parallels his literary work in its disruption of conventional forms. The chapter traces the evolution of his practice, from early ink drawings and photo experiments to later works shaped by magic, science, and collaboration with an impressive range of artists. It situates Burroughs within key artistic movements and scenes – from Dada in Paris and Pop Art in New York to outsider art in Kansas – while highlighting the limited critical attention his visual work has received. Despite numerous late-life and posthumous exhibitions, Burroughs remains an underexplored figure in contemporary art history. This study calls for deeper scholarly engagement with his unique and enigmatic body of work, which continues to resist categorization and invites new interpretations.

This chapter contains an overview of William Burroughs’ collaborative work over the course of a half-decade career, including literary collaborations (with Kells Elvins, Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Brion Gysin, and James Grauerholz) and interactions with filmmakers, musicians, and artists. The discussion is situated within the context of other literary collaborations, considerations of geography (who meets whom and where), mutual affinities that inspire and sustain joint projects, and contemporary theoretical work on authorship (e.g., Barthes, Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze and Guattari). In so doing, the chapter invites a reconsideration of notions of single authorship, and a fresh, expanded perspective on Burroughs’ oeuvre. Ultimately, the chapter reflects on the essential ingredients for successful collaborations, as well as various perils and challenges that accompany any collaborative endeavor.

This chapter explores the complexities and responsibilities of allyship in planning and placemaking, emphasising the critical importance of adopting a Country-centred approach. Reflecting on personal experiences as a non-Indigenous planner, the author highlights the necessity of confronting the colonial roots of land-use planning in Australia and embracing a more inclusive, two-way model of planning that incorporates Indigenous perspectives and values. Drawing on collaborative experiences with Indigenous colleagues and communities, the chapter identifies practical strategies for systemic change, including building team capacity, developing Country-informed principles, and addressing power imbalances in project governance. The author argues for a courageous and humble approach to allyship, urging non-Indigenous Australians to actively participate in truth-telling, reconciliation, and the healing of Country. Ultimately, the chapter advocates for a transformative shift towards inter-cultural practice, promoting a sustainable and equitable future grounded in mutual respect and shared responsibility for Country.

Painful as it is for a Remain campaigner like me to admit, the EU has always been dire when it comes to policies for supporting innovation and technology. Even more painfully, things have worsened over the past ten years. Longstanding structural weaknesses in EU innovation policy date from well before the Brexit referendum in 2016. The European Union had dismally failed to create a regulatory environment conducive to technological innovation. As I found whenever I visited to Brussels as a No. 10 adviser under David Cameron, the policy instincts of European Commission officials were overwhelmingly rooted in market stability and risk avoidance – values that, while defensible in themselves, often produced unintended consequences for fast-moving sectors such as digital technology and life sciences. Take the EU’s data privacy rules, which were debated and developed for years before being finally implemented in 2018. As Cameron’s team repeatedly warned at the time, the compliance costs fell disproportionately on small and early-stage firms. Even before fines or litigation, the administrative burden for smaller organisations typically ran into tens of thousands of pounds.