In England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, festivals expansively run the gamut from celebrations of flowers, seasonal harvests, and food and drink to the fine arts, music, theatre, and religion, in locations ranging from metropolitan centres, cathedrals, public and private parks and gardens, to locales rural in the extreme. Festivals could be unpredictable, and their organisers doubtless had to navigate uncertainties and last-minute cancellations, not to mention audience reception to programming; perhaps it is that element of unpredictability that gives festivals a general air of anticipation and excitement. This chapter explores post-Second World War festival culture with examples emerging from the Norfolk and Norwich Triennial Festival, the Glyndebourne Opera Festival, the Cheltenham Music Festival (subsequently renamed the Cheltenham Festival of Contemporary British Music), the Three Choirs Festival, the Aldeburgh Festival of Music and the Arts, and the Festival of Britain. The chapter also considers the intersections of the postwar socialised Arts Council funding for music and the arts in the British Isles, and the disparity between funding for metropolitan and rural centres.

Alzheimer’s disease (AD) drug development is a complex process that proceeds from identification of a biological target; to testing of candidate therapies in in vitro assays; assessment of efficacy in animal models and assessment of safety in several animal species; clinical testing in humans in Phase1, Phase 2, and Phase 3 clinical trials; regulatory review by agencies in all countries in which the drug might be marketed; and eventual commercialization. This process requires more than a decade to accomplish. The process involves substantial infrastructure resources; multiple stakeholders; and funding from a variety sources along the developmental pathway. This is the complex ecosystem that supports AD drug development.

In Chapter 9, I outline some of the most important moral considerations involved in the design and conduct of research. I first discuss research funding, emphasizing conflicts between resource limitations and epistemic and moral values. I then discuss research space considerations, framing these in terms of dwelling practices that express our commitments (to hospitality, conservation, etc.) and that shape our communities and environments. Next, I discuss the moral affordances of research equipment, arguing that such equipment is not just a set of neutral tools but a way of extending and transforming our individual and collective embodiment. I then discuss how organizing research entails a moral ordering (of priorities and persons) set amid a micro-politics of local power relationships. Finally, I discuss some of the moral dilemmas involved in soliciting and managing research participation, focusing on the duties to cultivate the choice, voice, and safety of all who participate in research.

Since 2015 and in response to the so-called migration crisis, the European Union (EU) has adopted several budget amendments, and created new funds in the field of migration. The chapter analyses these changes in the EU funding landscape from a border drawing perspective. After showing that funds have been extensively used by EU institution as a response to the so-called migration crisis, the chapter attempts to answer the following research question: does the evolution of the EU funding landscape in response to the migration crisis illustrate a mainly inclusive or mainly exclusive border drawing dynamic? To do so, the chapter starts by describing the various areas and objectives of the EU migration policy that funding decisions could be intended to support, classifying them as areas with a mainly inclusive purpose and areas with a mainly exclusive purpose. Then, it gives an overview of the changes in the EU’s funding patterns since the outbreak of the migration crisis in 2015. Finally, it examines these changes from a border drawing perspective, reaching the conclusion that EU funding decisions taken after the migration crisis have responded to a mainly exclusive dynamic.

The United Nations (UN) charter did not include voluntary contributions because some feared it would undermine multilateralism. Since the 1990s, UN agencies have increasingly been financed through earmarked contributions from a diverse set of donors. A growing body of literature examines the relationship between funding and global governance. This chapter examines the role that money has played in the origin and evolution of the International Organization for Migration (IOM) as a case study of earmarking in the wider UN system. The chapter uses a new dataset of earmarked contributions to IOM to examine thematic and temporal patterns in the contributions of main donors. Contributions have largely focused on issues relating to migration management that reflect the specific interests of donors, lending weight to the argument that the earmarking of financing has allowed bilateral interests to dominate multilateral responses. On the other hand, earmarked funding has also allowed the international community to extend protection to displaced populations not covered by the refugee convention as well as to push forward migration, often a contentious issue, at the international level.

Literature in migration studies has analyzed the deployment of development and humanitarian aid in migration policy, as well as the implication of non-state actors in the operationalization of European migration policy in North Africa. Little attention has been paid to the implementation of such a policy turn on the ground, and to the local configuration of power and governance that it produces. Building on fieldwork and interviews with representatives of donors, NGOs, and international organizations, this chapter investigates European-funded projects providing social assistance to “sub-Saharan” migrants in Morocco. The chapter argues that the use of aid for border control purposes splinters responsibilities over migration governance. In the space left by an “indifferent” Moroccan state, aid agencies become the main implementers of a social and humanitarian policy addressing the presence of Black migrants in the country. The relevance assumed by non-state actors is not only due to the unwavering availability of European funding for border control, but also due to its entanglement with historical patterns of state externalization of care for the poor to non-state actors.

Chapter 3 examines how aid creates conflicts and entrenches existing racialised inequalities within the civil society sector. I show that funding injections shake Moroccan civil society by producing three kinds of organisational subjectivities. The first group are the newcomers, which decide to accept donors’ funding, while enacting sense-making strategies to justify their work as not explicitly in support of border security policies. The second group are the radicals: organisations which consider aid money as an instrument of border externalisation, and therefore decide to reject it or distance themselves from it. The last group of civil society organisations are those remaining on the doorstep. Mainly migrant-led organisations, these actors aspire to be part of the aid industry but are unable to bid for aid-funded projects and are confined to play a subordinate role in the migration market. Funding injections therefore alter relations between civil society organisations by favouring phenomena of co-optation, conflict, and subordination. This leads to the emergence of conflict among civil society actors, who do not manage to take a unified stance in favour or against the border regime.

‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ Early childhood education and care settings play an integral part in this adage. They build such communities by being both a point of connection for, and an integral part of, local contexts. Beginning with what defines a community, this chapter helps readers to consider ways of ‘seeing’, ‘being with’ and ‘serving’ the communities of which they are a part. Illustrations of practice demonstrate ways to invite and involve local groups and services into the early childhood setting. The practicalities of risk assessments and planning for incursions and excursions, and ways of connecting with local aged care facilities, playgroups, council libraries, community centres, and gardening or craft cooperatives are specifically considered. In working together with local communities, teachers do more than partner for mutual connection and the exchange of resources, support or fulfilment. ‘Being with’ encourages teachers to consider ways of ‘seeing’ their contexts first-hand to identify community needs for evidence-informed advocacy and change.

Three key drivers that introduced the new managerialism into mental health services were funding constraints, the drive to measure health care quality and the move to deinstitutionalisation. A new cadre of managers, some of which were clinicians but many of whom were not, often rode roughshod over traditional clinical administration and many psychiatrists and nurses felt ignored and undervalued. New managers pushed ahead regardless, driven by a vision that was often alien to existing service providers. New services proved to be considerably more expensive than old ones. The tribal cultures of psychiatrists, nurses, other professions and managers have always been a major influence on the way services are run, and the change towards a managerial emphasis did not assist mutual understanding. Managerialism brought a new understanding of budgets, human resources and objectives into mental health services that was largely positive but mental health services are still fashioned around systems that were established for the acute hospital sector and not readily adapted to mental health service provision.

Any community involved in revitalization work will benefit from having a strategic language plan in place, with clearly identified short and long term goals. Ideally, projects are a carefully planned set of activities within a specific time frame and with well-defined outcomes. This chapter sets out a series of steps, beginning from the “good idea” and progressing through assessing the needs that a project will address, outlining the project and relating its intended outcomes to the broader strategic needs and goals of the community. It then covers specific details that need to be addressed in planning, such as resources, audience, budget, funding, timeline and other matters, before moving on to implementation, contingency plans and evaluation. The capsule provides a set of tips on how to maximize use of emotional resources and minimize use of money, emphasizing how much can be achieved through positive attitudes and commitment, even without financial resources.

This chapter explores ethical issues involved in language revitalization. Revitalization projects have different implications for different groups (including outside researchers, local activists, community members and sub-groups within the community) and should be planned in a way that is sensitive to the community’s needs, perspectives and knowledge systems. In cases where there is past or present oppression, discrimination or related traumas, only the community can decide whether and how they wish difficult topics to be brought up. Other issues discussed include the political positioning of researchers working with minority groups, legal issues, ownership, consent and the appropriate sharing of documentation resources. The capsule recounts ethical lessons learned through a collaboration with indigenous researchers in Friendship Centres in Ontario, Canada. The emphasis is on practical involvement in everyday activities so that research is grounded in long-term, reciprocal relationships with the knowledge keepers.

In the tradition of educational innovation, when we create something we like, we try to take it to scale. But schools that take thriving as a core purpose all have distinct purposes and approaches. Their approaches are embedded in a context, responding to local narratives, needs and resources. There is no way, therefore, to 'scale' thriving. Regardless, scaling in educating has mostly been unsuccessful. Instead we can focus on how to grow and spread the diversee narratives, logics and practices that promote thriving. This starts wih removing inhibitors, including our tendency to confuse measurable outputs of education with the outcomes we desire; the excessive scrutiny of some accountabilitty and monitoring sysems; and the lack of resources available in underfunded or inequitable systems. Then we can focus on conditions for growth: framing our purposes in design principles that support and direct decision-making; creating supportive newtorks of professionals and other partners; and developing a social movement for change. Thriving – at all levels – will become a purpose of school when more of us speak out openly to affirm that it should be.