Not the nation (as family) once again

I’ve been thinking about ideas of nationhood, ancestry and belonging for quite a while. In my paper just published in Ethnic and Racial Studies I explore these ideas again, this time thinking through the models of ethnic difference and genealogical similarity that underpin the refusal of the Irish government to officially recognise Irish Travellers as an indigenous, nomadic, ethnic minority, and the implications of genetic studies of Traveller origins.

Not all politicians agree with this refusal. As I began a drive from Dublin airport to Co. Waterford a few weeks ago the first item on the RTÉ Radio 1 lunchtime news was a report that the Irish Human Rights and Equality Commission’s Chief Commissioner, Emily Logan, condemns the government’s failure to act on a cross parliamentary recommendation for the recognition of Traveller ethnicity.

The second item was the announcement of a new Irish life science start up called Genomics Medicine Ireland which aims ‘to build the largest, most comprehensive population-scale, disease-specific genomic study ever created’, an Irish genomic project effectively. This is human genomics as biomedicine rather than as the anthropological science of origins and ancestry but it still raises the question of who counts as the ‘people of Ireland’.

These two news items appearing together – one about the distinctiveness of an indigenous group within a county, the other about a genomic study of the people of country – are thus entangled strands of current ways of categorizing and measuring cultural and genetic difference. Both matter to imaginative and legal categories of identity and belonging. It is these entanglements of ethnicity, genomics and nationhood that I have been pursuing, most recently in addressing recent attempts to explore the origins of Irish Travellers as a distinctive group through genetic studies. I do this in the Ethnic and Racial Studies paper through a focus on the research that featured in the documentary Blood of the Travellers made by Liam McGrath and broadcast on RTÉ in 2011.

My paper is definitely not a critique of that documentary which it is strongly pro-Traveller and deeply critical of anti-Traveller attitudes and discrimination. But it is critical of the science within it and the wider turn to genetic models of identity and difference. Even though shared ancestry is an important dimension of group identity, interpretations of patterns of genetic variation should not override the significance of other sources of knowledge, in stories, song and folklore, for example. There are also dangers that people may feel that their sense of belonging in a group is undermined if they  found to be genetically ‘mixed’ because of intermarriage in their family. Studies of genetic variation are not helpful ways to address cultural questions of origins and belonging.

In this case it is argued that the genetic study showed that Irish Travellers are genetically distinctive but also share broader genetic similarity with the rest of the settled population and so don’t have origins outside Ireland. But this similarity can be used by those opposed to granting Travellers ethnic recognition to suggest that there is no basis to their claims to be ethnically distinctive. This seems to be based on an idea that ethnicity cannot just be cultural but also must have some genealogical and genetic basis. Saying that Irish Travellers are part of the national family tree might sound inclusive but can be used to deny of ethnic difference e.g. by saying that Travellers are just Irish rather than Irish and ethnically distinctive as Travellers.

And defining national belonging through shared ancestry can imply that others those who don’t have genealogical roots in Ireland (e.g. those of immigrant origin) have no natural place in the nation.  Discovering shared ancestry is often taken to be a positive way of understanding cultural and historical interconnections, and this can be the case in personal family histories, or in relation to adjacent countries and their national categories, English and Irish for example. But those who have more distant origins, and so aren’t seen as ‘close relatives’, can be excluded from the model of the nation as a genealogical family. These are the divisive effects of what I call the idea of genealogical incorporation.

 

Genetic genealogy: 10 reasons to be wary

It is now ten years since I was invited to write a piece about genetic genealogy for L’Observatoire de al Génétique. The world of genetic genealogy has grown and developed since and other commentaries about it have recently been published. But, even allowing for technical developments in the analysis being offered, it is worth reprinting my ’10 reasons to be wary’ again here for other readers and as a continued challenge to this industry and its claims.

 

A case against the turn to genetic tests for answers to ancestry, identity and origins that foregrounds the limits of the methods and raises concerns about their social implications. (2006)

Since my discussion of ‘recreational genetics’, race and relatedness appeared as a Zoom piece (1), several people have contacted L’Observatoire de la Génétique troubled about the confusing or inconclusive nature of the results of their genetic tests for ‘deep ancestry’ and seeking advice about how interpret them. The help lines provided by most of the companies who sell tests that offer to supply information on ‘genetic ancestry’ or ‘ethnic or geographic origins’ must be busy responding to queries of this sort. For some people the tests provide, as the companies promise, a strong and significant sense of ancestral origin. But for many the experience of buying a test and then trying to understand the results and interpret their meaning for personal or family senses of origin and identity is very difficult and often unsatisfactory. For others, the results may be disturbing and unsettling. For others still, they can be only mildly interesting or end up meaning very little.

This article’s list of reasons to be wary about investing too much hope in these tests is a response to these requests for clarification and expressions of confusion. It is not meant to be a criticism of those who buy these tests nor of the desire to find out about one’s genetic background. The appeal of all kinds of self-knowledge, including knowledge about one’s genes, and the attractions of making connections with others are strong and widely shared features of the societies in Europe and North America where these tests are sold. It is also not meant to pre-judge how people use or interpret the results. It would be inappropriate to assume the role of expert and fail to appreciate the varied ways people deal with and make use of these new sorts of genetic knowledges. These comments are based on my own efforts to understand the basis of these tests and my reflections on their possible personal effects and wider implications.

This piece is, however, intended to be a direct counter argument to the heavy promotion of these tests by those who sell them as valuable, meaningful and unproblematic guides to genetic ancestry and origins. Critical discussions of these tests are beginning to emerge. In this short piece I want to add to those criticisms by presenting a strong and accessible case against the promotion of these genetic tests that will be of help to those considering buying them and those trying to understand their results. Some of these 10 reasons to be wary involve explaining the limits of the tests themselves; others raise questions about the social implications and the significance of genetic descriptions of identity or origins at a deeper level.

  1. How much of an individual’s genetics do these tests describe?

‘Genes make you who you are as a unique individual’. Leaving aside the question of whether this is a useful understanding of genetics and identity and accepting, for now, the logic of this familiar viewpoint, it is worth considering the scope of the genetic information these tests are offering.

It is estimated that the total genetic component or genome of any one person differs from that of another by only 0.1% to 1%. This means that most of the genes that are said to make us who we are, are actually mostly shared with every other human. So these tests focus on the proportionally small amount of genetic material that differs between people. According to the companies involved, this is what makes the tests useful in ascertaining ‘ethnic or geographical origins’ (or in some cases fractions of different racial or ethnic ancestries).

Alternatively, it could be argued that the companies over-inflate the significance of these genetic differences by presenting them through the traditional importance of personal ancestral histories and the idea of individual human uniqueness. But even again, for now, accepting the claims of the significance of one’s genetic makeup to understandings of personal ancestry and individuality, it is also worth pointing out that these tests do not explore all the 0.1% to 1% but in the case of mtDNA and Y-chromosome tests, only focus on this particular chromosome and this particular form of DNA, and then only on selected segments of the strands of nucleotides that they contain. These are those areas or markers that have been identified by geneticists as areas of more rapid mutation and are therefore most likely to exhibit the most differences among people.

In addition, these areas of rapid mutation are located in what are described as non-coding portions of DNA. This means that according to current scientific knowledge they have no obvious function in terms of the production of proteins. So if we accept the tenet that ‘our genes make us who we are’, these tests are actually only telling us about a tiny proportion of our genome and about sections of DNA that have no known function (and for this reason cannot be called ‘genes’). For geneticists interested in what these sections of DNA might say about descent this is irrelevant; it is their narrowness and their form of direct transmission, from fathers to sons in the case of the Y chromosome and from mothers to children in the case of mtDNA, that makes them useful in exploring patterns of descent. But their narrowness also means that the tests only focus on a tiny portion of DNA that any individual inherits and they reduce the DNA that matters in terms of ancestry in any one genome to these selected portions. Autosomal tests, which I will discuss further below, focus neither on mtDNA nor on the chromosomes (X and Y) involved in sex determination. These tests are also restricted to the exploration of key markers on the autosomes. The genetic self-knowledge on offer is thus in no sense comprehensive. The results that are provided to customers are based on grouping people according to these narrow descriptions of descent. They say nothing about wider patterns of genetic similarity and difference.

  1. What about all those other ancestors?

Y-chromosome and mtDNA tests only explore very limited portions of DNA. Furthermore, they focus on genetic material that is inherited directly. Thus, they cannot tell us anything about the complex mix of genetic material we have inherited from all the ancestors that precede any individual. In contrast to genealogy which at least in theory can provide a family tree that includes all the sets of great-grandparents, great great-grandparents and great, great, great-grandparents, and so on, whose genetic material has been mixed together and passed on to a present day individual, genetic genealogy largely, only focuses on narrow lines of direct descent. And while family trees can record the diverse geographies of birth, migration and residence of the individuals that represent ancestors, as well as all those other people who we aren’t directly descended from like aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, whose details enrich a family history, genetic genealogy can only offer one (if you are a woman) or two (if you are a man) points of ancestral origin. So, though genetic genealogy is presented as a way of overcoming the problem of lack of documentary sources, its solution to genealogical ‘brick walls’ is based on a narrow and reductive version of ancestry.

  1. Where do those letters, numbers and names in my results come from?

So how are descriptions of ‘deep ancestry’, ‘ancestral origin’ or ‘geographical or ethnic’ origins derived from the analysis of selected segments of a customer’s genome? There are three main ways in which a customer may be given information about their ancestry, and there are specific problems about each method.

3.1. The use of haplogroups

Firstly, a customer’s Y-chromosome or mtDNA markers are given a label, usually in the form of a set of letters or numbers, that correspond to a recognised type, a haplogroup, such as the mtDNA haplogroups D, HV1 or K, or the Y-chromosomal ones like J2, R1A or J, that geneticists have identified as most common to particular parts of the world and that are the basis of their reconstructions of ancient human migration. Thus though the haplogroups are presented as personal results, and at least suggest their special link to the customer, as in announcements that ‘this is your unique genetic signature’, they are in fact shared with millions of other people.

These comparisons between a customer’s sample and these recognised, named and geographically mapped haplogroups are the basis of claims to be able to identify whether a customer has (direct line maternal or paternal) lineage to specific ethnic groups or that suggests specific geographical ancestral origins. Sometimes these ancestral categories can be broad. A customer may be told, for instance, that their haplogroup is one associated with African, Native American, Asian or European people. In some cases a customer is given a more specific ethnic or geographical origin based on more detailed regional studies of genetic diversity.

In addition because the haplogroups describe what are taken to be patterns of genetic diversity that are the product of patterns of ancient human migration and evolution, they only suggest supposed connections to very distant ancestral groups and their geographical locations. The time-scale of ‘genetic ancestry’ is not of recent generations but of tens of thousands of years back to ancient ancestors. Comparisons of the Y chromosome or mtDNA between individual customers can be used to determine whether they share ancestry at some point in the near or distant time. But the results of a test alone – with no such comparison – do not provide information on more recent ancestors who could have lived in many different places.

It must also be stressed that the haplogroup labels are the product both of individual genetic studies and a more recent international agreement on standardised naming. They are also based on current knowledge so a particular haplogroup could be further subdivided into several others as research progresses.

In addition to a named haplogroup, a man may also be given his results in the form of a set of numerical values for each of his Y-chromosome markers that have been sequenced.

In the case of mtDNA a customer may also be told of the difference between their rapidly mutating areas – or hyper variable regions – and that of the Cambridge Reference Sequence which is a composite sequence of mtDNA against which other types of mtDNA are compared. The use of this particular sequence is arbitrary, another reference sequence would produce other comparisons (2).

The basis of the test for Jewish or Cohanim ancestry is slightly different. In this case the test is based on examining a sample of men with the Cohen name and establishing which was the most common and therefore specific haplotype for the group (3). This appears straightforward but there is a crucial issue in this research and in the wider science of population genetics that informs genetic genealogy. It is the issue of sampling. In both the Cohanim study and in the naming and mapping of haplotype diversity more widely, these studies are not based on testing everyone named Cohen, nor everybody in a region but are based on samples of people that are taken to represent the wider group or population. This is a standard survey technique and scientists are aware of the issue of what counts as an acceptable sample size and composition. Nevertheless, a different sample, of Cohens for example, could produce a different most common Y-chromosome haplotype. (The results would also need to be compared with those of a ‘mixed group’ to see whether the statistical dominance of one haplotype is actually statistically significant. This also applies to genetic surname studies being promoted by several genetic genealogy companies.) In their surveys population geneticists commonly select their sample by screening out those people who are deemed to be ‘mixed’ or unrepresentative of a region from the study. This means that groups of people in specific places, that may be in fact be much more diverse because of the usual patterns of human migration, are instead represented as genetically homogenous .This means that the narrow focus on an individual’s direct maternal or paternal ancestry is coupled with a misleading representation of the genetics of the groups of people who are said to be genetically similar to a customer’s ancient ancestors.

3.2. Getting ‘matches’

Secondly, a customer may be offered sources of information on ‘ethnic or geographical origins’ in the form of ‘matches’ with other customers. Some companies invite customers to supply details of their own ‘ethnic or geographical origins’ to company databases that can be searched by the company or by customers for individuals with the same or similar results. (Mostly this is optional, but sometimes allowing one’s results and details to be searchable in this way is a condition of having the test done at all). A customer can then review the ‘ethnic or geographical origins’ supplied by other customers with whom they ‘match’. This is presented as a productive way of exploring ancestry especially for those whose haplogroup only suggests a very broad European ancestry that they had probably guessed already. It promises the possibility of more precise details on the places of ancestors and their ethnicity. However, this presentation of the value of the tests is often combined with a warning that the information provided by customers is subjective, based on their own ways of naming their origins and ethnicity.

But there is another fundamental problem with this method and it again involves the selectiveness of the database. It only contains the people who have bought the tests and allowed their results to be entered. This is thus in no way a representative sample of the people who could possibly match another individual. The information to be gleaned from the details of other matching customers is entirely dependent on the sort and number of customers who have contributed to the database. (This is also the case in  genetic surname studies.) A larger and more diverse set of participating customers would produce a different list of matches and their self-identified ethnic or geographical origins.

In addition, in some cases the ‘genetic matches’ are not based on other customers’ results but are derived from databases produced by collating the results of surveys conducted in the field of population genetics. However, although these are much larger databases, they are also the result of the selective sampling strategies of the researches and may contain many more matches to areas that have simply been surveyed in more detail. The issue here is the problem of aggregating information. Surveys may be done comprehensively in the particular regions being studied by population geneticists but the database that is produced by combining these surveys is not globally comprehensive. It is geographically patchy. A customer could, for example, find that they have ‘genetic cousins’ in Iceland whose population  has been intensely studied but none in other areas simply because those areas have not been subject to the same amount of research. Assuming an Icelandic ancestral origin in this case would be to ignore all the contingencies of the science that shapes these databases.

3.3. Autosomal tests

The third main method of providing ancestral information is used by the small but growing number of companies that sell autosomal tests. These are the tests which offer to estimate the proportion of a person’s ancestry that derives from each of four very broad groups. These are sometimes named as Sub-Saharan African, East Asian, European, and Native American, or in other cases named as West African, Native American, East Asian or West European. These tests are based on the use of databases too. In this case these databases contain statistics on the degree of prevalence of particular genetic markers (known as ‘ancestry informative markers’) in particular ‘populations’. They are also based on surveys conducted by population geneticists, using similar methods of sampling to study relatively ‘pure’ groups whose genes have not been ‘mixed’ by migration. In these tests, the customer’s ‘ancestry informative markers’ are examined and compared with the data on the greater or lesser occurrence of these markers in those surveyed groups. The results of this comparison are then statistically processed to produce a test result in the form of percentages of different ancestries. These percentages are therefore not a measure of the number of ancestors of different backgrounds within an individual’s genealogy but are a statistically derived estimate that depends both on the initial selection of survey participants, the examination of particular markers, complex statistical calculations and the convention of ordering patterns of human diversity into four main groups based on continental origins. Autosomal tests seem to offer a degree of statistical certainty about the proportions of different groups in one’s ancestry but the results are really an artefact of a whole series of estimates and approximations that have very little connection to the complex ways in which ethnical and racial identities are socially defined and experienced. At the same time they can easily been interpreted as supporting to the idea that racial or ethnic categories have a genetic basis.

  1. Can race and ethnicity be described genetically?

In contrast to Y-chromosomal and mtDNA tests, autosomal tests do present an individual ancestry as one of mixture and multiple origins, but they do so by giving credibility to the idea that dividing humanity according to four racial types neatly corresponds to patterns of genetic difference. So while some geneticists argue that genetics refutes the existence of genetically discrete races, others readily make use of old racial categories. Those who do so often acknowledge that in reality the patterns of human genetic difference vary in gradients, but their fourfold description of humanity suggests much more distinctive groups and clear cut divisions (4).

Genetic genealogy is thus implicated in the contemporary resurgence of a racialised language of human difference. This may seem completely disconnected from an ordinary customer’s interest in what the test result can add to their family history. But buying a test effectively supports companies and geneticists that are influential agents in contemporary debates over the scientific credibility and social consequences of equating ethnicity, race and genetics.

This issue of the ways human genetic variation is correlated with race, or more usually ethnicity, in the presentation of many of these tests is one of the most significant causes of concern about this new development in genealogy. I put populations in inverted commas in Section 3.3. because the use of the term implies the existence of much more bounded and discrete groups of people than actually exist in reality. Though ethnic groups are often based on ideas of shared ancestry, human groups are always more mixed and fluid than pure and fixed in their composition. Attempts to achieve or maintain an assumed ethnic purity have been the cause of massive human suffering, manifest at worst in ethnic cleansing. In other cases the correlation of ethnicity/race with genetics produces much more stringent criteria for membership than usually operates. In the Cohanim case, for example, being Jewish is newly defined through the presence or absence of a particular Y-chromosome haplotype, though in practice Jewishness is traditionally inherited through maternal descent and can be achieved through conversion.

There is a further problem with attempts to define the genetic characteristics of ethnic groups. In some cases historic ethnic labels are projected on to contemporary people. The identification of a Viking haplotype, for example, is based on the assumption that contemporary Norwegians descend from and share the genetic patterns of Viking ancestors. In other cases contemporary ethnic labels are projected back into the past. The contemporary ethnic groups in West Africa whose genetics are used to locate the place and group of origin of a customer’s enslaved ancestors may not correspond to those that existed at the time of enslavement. Genetic tests in genealogy are based on over-confident assumptions of the historical continuity of genetic patterns and ethnic labels.

  1. What happens to my sample and my personal data?

Beyond concerns about the scope and the limitations of genetic tests in genealogy, potential customers of companies that are selling these tests may also find it useful to reflect on what happens to their genetic information after the test has been conducted. Most companies now have detailed terms and conditions that customers are invited to read and accept before their sample is processed. Most stress the privacy of the test results (allowing however for different degrees of anonymity and accessibility on those customer databases) but also protect the company from any liability for any negative ‘social or psychological’ effects of the results. Most also say that the sample of a customer’s cheek cells and the genetic material derived from it will be destroyed after it has been examined, or destroyed after a period of storage to allow for re-analysis as the sophistication of the tests develops. However, destroying the physical sample does not destroy the information derived from it. And though under usual circumstances this information would not be disclosed, some companies acknowledge that they may be legally required to disclose the information in cases of criminal investigation. This may not seem problematic but the possibilities of future use of the information either in future genetic studies or in other unforeseen ways are worth considering. As in the case of genetic databases more widely, consent to the analysis of the sample for the sake of the current use does not necessarily ensure the customer has any control over the future of their genetic information and its possible uses.

  1. Do my relatives want to know what I find out?

Those considering buying these tests may also want to reflect on the potential effects of their results on other family members. For though the tests give individual results they have implications for other relatives who in the case of Y-chromosome tests share paternal descent, and share maternal descent in the case of the mtDNA tests. An individual customer usually signs a consent form when completing the tests but the results are also relevant to other family members who are not offered the opportunity to sign or decline consent. The information that the results suggest about ethnic or geographical origins that one person receives thus pertains to other family members who may not have chosen to have this knowledge and for whom it may disturb their particular sense of cultural or ethnic identity. A man, for example, who may strongly identify with his Irish roots because of his maternal grandmother’s origins, may be told by his brother, son, or uncle that the Y-chromosome ‘matches’ suggest connections with Italy instead. Or as is frequently the case, Y-chromosome tests results can point to a white male ancestor for African-American or Black British men. These may be upsetting results for the individual who bought the tests but they may also have effects on those in the family that had not personally chosen to explore their ancestry in this way.

In addition, the ways these two most common types of tests focus on direct maternal and direct paternal descent alone can suggest different degrees of genetic similarity and difference that do not correspond to the patterns of closeness or distance within a family. The diagrams of family trees that many companies include in their explanatory material often highlight the direct paternal and direct maternal lines within the family tree to show to whom the test and the test results are applicable. Once these schematic diagrams of descent come alive with the names of actual relatives, the way the tests emphasise certain lines of the family over others becomes much more obvious. In my case, a focus on my mother’s line alone seems to exclude my father’s grandmother, as well as all those other women on both sides who are not direct maternal ancestors. When those who are logically deemed irrelevant to an individual’s genetic ancestry are still alive and interested in their daughter’s, grandson’s or nephew’s results, the discovery that they don’t share the haplogroup in question, can cut across their bonds of care and affection. A man who has had a close relationship with his mother’s father may have to explain to him that, actually, the results are only relevant to those men on his father’s side of the family, and that the results define his ‘deep ancestry’ in this way alone. In this case they do not share mtDNA either.

Of course close relationships and senses of identity may survive these new ways of thinking about descent. The genetic results can be combined with other ways of thinking of the family and other ways of defining the relationships and ancestral connections that matter. But an individual’s results can also have affects on other family members and on family relationships that are worth considering in advance.

  1. Why should direct male-line and direct female-line ancestry and relationships matter most?

As I have already outlined above, some of the recent concerns about geneticized genealogy focus on the ways in which they connect ethnicity, race and genetics. But, these tests also suggest ways of thinking about descent in strongly gendered terms. This is not a matter of the simple inequality of men being able to take both Y-chromosome and mtDNA tests and women only being able to take mtDNA tests. Most companies respond to women’s queries about the Y-chromosome test by suggesting that women could get a paternal male relative to take a test so that they can find out something about their father’s line. However, this is not an ancestral line a woman is genetically connected to since she doesn’t inherit the Y-chromosome from her father and since this paternal line is defined in genetic genealogy by the Y-chromosome alone. Yet, according to the idea of one’s own unique DNA mattering in terms of identity, these proxy Y-chromosome tests aren’t telling the women anything about herself but about her father, and his paternal line.

The gendering of ideas of descent has both more obvious and more subtle dimensions. Most obviously the promotion of Y-chromosome tests and especially genetic surname studies using the Y-chromosome, regenerate a model of genealogy dominated by the significance of patrilineage. The patrilineal naming system of many European countries and of the countries of European settlement reflects a social order in which women were subordinate. It is only relatively recently that genealogy has become more democratically focused on female as well as male ancestry. Some may argue that the existence of mtDNA tests for women offsets this renewed emphasis on surnames and male descent. Yet in some cases ideas of collective descent can come to be defined much more narrowly through male descent. Most Irish and Scottish clan organisations that are familiar expressions of ethnic affiliation in Canada and the United States allow membership of women and men who have a genealogical link to the clan name regardless of whether this is direct and paternal or not. But when the genetics of the clan are explored though Y-chromosome tests, membership, implicitly at least, becomes more narrowly defined as male and, implicitly at least is only open to men with direct paternal descent from a migrant ancestor who bore that name.

The subtle gendering of descent and relatedness through both the promotion of mtDNA tests and Y-chromosome tests also involves the ways in which relationships between  sons, fathers and grandfathers and backwards in time, and similarly between daughters, mothers and grandmothers and so on, are emphasised at the expense of other relationships. As suggested above, this emphasis on my mother’s maternal line makes my father’s mother somehow insignificant as an ancestor. Similarly, for my brothers the emphasis on direct Y-chromosome descent means that only one of two grandfathers, my father’s father, can count as genetically relevant. The explanatory material of many genetic testing companies acknowledges that this is a narrow version of descent but argue for the usefulness of being able to trace these forms of direct descent when the numbers of ancestors in an individual’s family tree multiplies with every generation backward in time.

Those popularising these tests also make the idea of focusing only on direct paternal and direct maternal genetic connections seem natural by drawing on the idea of the strength of the relationships between mothers and daughters and between fathers and sons. But in doing so they over emphasise these relationships at the expense of others – between grandmothers or mothers and sons and between daughters and fathers or grandfathers. This emphasis on these forms of genetic connection exaggerates the commonalities that supposedly underlie the so-called ‘naturally’ strong bonds between mothers and daughters and between  fathers and sons. In doing so, it also exaggerates the supposed differences between women and men. Geneticized genealogy can conjure up a world in which descent is only imagined in terms of separate and unconnected direct maternal and paternal lines, and origins, for men at least, in two regions and two ancient migration pathways. Maps of Y-chromosome and mtDNA haplotypes and their migration routes seem to suggest a human prehistory in which bands of women and bands of men separately left Africa and pursued their global journeys in isolation from each other. In this way genetic genealogy is part of a wider and problematic tendency to stress supposedly inherent differences between men and women and use these differences to justify social inequalities between women and men.

  1. How to decide who genetically belongs?

Tests results can have implications not only for individuals and family relationships but also impact upon senses of belonging within wider social groups and in some cases formal inclusion or exclusion from groups that are defined through shared descent. For many people the possibility of the tests confirming senses of group identity – as of Scottish descent for example – is their attraction. But the results of tests that focus on the genetic profiles of members of social groups based on shared ancestry – Irish clan or surname groups, for instance – often differentiate between those who fit and do not fit, by referring to a haplotype taken to be typical of the group. As in families, senses of shared identity within groups can be challenged by test results that suggest that those affinities have no basis in genetics and shared descent. A man may find that a long held affinity with and interests in the clan histories and mythologies of his Irish or Scottish surname do not match his Y-chromosome haplotype since it turns out not to be the same or similar to the one that is most common within the group. These results may matter in terms of cultural identity but have no more formal consequences in the individual’s life. However, genetic test results could have legal and financial as well as personal and collective political and cultural effects if recent moves to insist that claims to being Native American, or of belonging to other indigenous groups, are supported by genetic tests become formal state policy (5). And as in families also, these ways of reckoning membership genetically do not necessarily correspond with customary ways of deciding who is a member and not a member of a community or group. Potential customers may want to consider how the promotion and consumption of these tests may support models of group membership based on genetics that can have divisive and damaging effects.

  1. Is blood really thicker than water?

What are wider implications of the emphasis on genetic closeness and genetic connections within the culture of genetic genealogy? The possibility of making connection with others as ‘genetic cousins’ is often presented as a particularly rewarding aspect of the practice. In addition it is common to come across references to the natural senses of affinity that exists between those who discover that they share the same haplogroup. This extends the everyday idea of the significance of family connections, the idea that ‘blood is thicker than water’.

Framing genetic genealogy by ideas of family ties makes claims about the significance of finding ‘genetic cousins’ and celebrations of genetic connection appear benign and natural. But the idea that despite separation by thousands of miles, in many cases, and despite no previous contact, newly discovered ‘genetic cousins’ share a bond and sense of affinity based on shared possession of particular markers within their mtDNA or Y chromosome has as its corollary a more troubling model of human difference. For it is the logical extension of arguments about genetic similarity as the basis of social connection, is that senses of care, empathy, understanding and solidarity diminish with increasing genetic dissimilarity. The implication is that we are naturally bonded to those most genetically similar and naturally indifferent to, unsympathetic towards, or at worst hostile to those most genetically different. There are clear echoes here of claims about the ‘natural’ enmity between ethnic or racial groups that are used to argue against immigration, or used to explain social divisions or ethnic tensions in terms of ‘natural’ antagonism rather than in patterns of inequality that are the product of ethnic and racialised patterns of advantage and disadvantage.

Ideas of the genetic basis of empathy suggest a world of allies and enemies that could justify a whole range of state practices from the ethnic or racial segregation of housing, to anti-immigration legislation, to foreign policies designed in response to ‘natural’ patterns of antagonism or tension between those culturally, racially and genetically different. This may seem very far removed from personal tests for ancestral origins, but the claims made by genetic testing companies are part of a wider social domain in which the explanatory power of genetics is being explored, contested and put to work.

  1. Am I just my DNA?

My second broad point and final one of this list concerns the relationships between genes and identity. The companies that sell genetic tests for personal or collective explorations of ancestry make strong and straightforward claims that the results will provide information on ‘who you are’ and ‘where you come from’. But what model of identity is at work here? In what ways does it correspond with or differ from wider understandings of identity?

On the one hand these claims pick up and reinforce existing understandings of the significance of ancestry to people’s sense of identity as individuals or as members of ethnic groups. They reproduce the idea that at some deep level identity corresponds to our biology, that it is predetermined, fixed and immutable within our genes. They imply that finding your genetic origins thus reveals something that we hitherto didn’t know but is nevertheless fundamental to who we are. But, on the other hand, in contrast to the emphasis on genetic inheritance alone within genetic genealogy, people often understand themselves not just through senses of what is genetically inherited but also in terms of what is culturally inherited, stories, traditions, attitudes for example, in terms of a much wider set of social relationships, and in terms of the impact of their childhood and lifelong experiences.  My sense of who I am is always a mixture of what seems pretty much set in place and my continuing and unfolding responses to the other people and events. Some people may add new knowledge of genetics to their diverse and sometimes contradictory ways of understanding themselves or give a relatively minor place to genetics in their senses of who they are. But to give priority to genetic descent and genetic origins over senses of the continuously unfolding and dynamic shaping of identity is to reduce understandings of ‘who we are’ to the most narrow and limited versions. Of course this may be comfortingly uncomplicated and that may be the attraction of the tests, but as this list has suggested, neat categorisations of people according to genetics in families, ethnic groups and in the world more widely, are more a cause for concern than satisfaction.

These ten reasons to be cautious about turning to genetic tests in genealogy obviously represent my personal perspective. Others will have different views of their worth and limits. But they are offered here as critical interjection and to provoke debate in an area that is currently dominated by the companies’ own versions of what the tests can provide and why a potential customer should ‘proceed to checkout’.

 

References

(1) Nash C. “Recreational genetics, race and relatedness”. L’Observatoire de la Génétique September-November 2005, no. 24, online bulletin of the Centre for Bioethics, Clinical Research Institute of Montreal,
http://www.ircm.qc.ca/bioethique/obsgenetique/zoom/zoom_05/z_no24_05/z_no24_05_02.html (Accessed October 31, 2006).

(2) The Cambridge Reference Sequence is a reference genome of human mitochrondrial DNA against which other mtDNA sequences are compared and named. It is a technique for exploring the differences between mtDNA sequences. Yet, another reference genome could serve the same function. It does not represent an individual (it is actually a composite based on sequencing the cell material from two women; nor is it somehow a ‘typical’ sequence. For a critical analysis of the technological and cultural processes that have produced the Cambridge Reference Sequence as a taken-for-granted reference sequence see: M’charek A. “The Mitochondrial Eve of Modern Genetics: of Peoples and Genomes, or the Routinization of Race”. Science as Culture 2005 14 (2): 161-183.

(3) The term haplogroup usually refers to a broad lineage composed of related haplotypes, the term used to describe more specific sequences. For a fuller critique of the Cohanim study, see: Marks J. “We’re going to tell these people who they really are: Science and Relatedness”, in Franklin S, McKinnon S (eds). Relative Values: Reconfiguring Kinship Studies. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2001, p. 370.

(4) See: Condit CM. ‘“Race” is not a scientific concept: alternative directions’. L’Observatoire de la Génétique September-November 2005, no. 24, online bulletin of the Centre for Bioethics, Clinical Research Institute of Montreal,
http://www.ircm.qc.ca/bioethique/obsgenetique/cadrages/cadr2005/c_no24_05/c_no24_05_01.html (Accessed October 31, 2006).

(5) There are reports that the current US Bush administration has ‘planned to introduce new legislation for new laws to require DNA tests to determine Indian blood’. Arizona Border Rights Foundation – Fundación de Derechos Fronterizos de Arizona press release regarding the Border Summit of the Americas, Tucson, Arizona, 29 September to 1 October, 2006 posted on http://deletetheborder.org/node/1538 (Accessed October 31, 2006). In contrast, the Australian Law Reform Commission’s report Essentially Yours: Protection of Human Genetic Information in Australia summarised the reasons against genetics tests over riding indigenous peoples own rights to self-determine group identity and membership. See its section ‘Kinship and Identity’ at http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/other/alrc/publications/reports/96/36_Kinship_and_Identity.doc.html (Accessed October 31, 2006).

Ancestors and relatives

My review of Eviatar Zerubavel’s Ancestors and Relatives: Genealogy, Identity and Community, Oxford University Press, 2012 will shortly be coming out in the British Journal of Sociology.

This book is a clear, accessible and interesting engagement with what Evitar Zerubavel describes as ‘foundational pillars of the human condition’: ancestors and relatives.  As I discuss in my review (see below for the full version), its message is that genealogical relatedness is culturally produced, is critically important to how people categorise themselves and others and has deep consequences for boundaries of inclusion and difference. This is familiar to those already well versed in new kinship studies, and this book does not theorise, document or imagine alternatives models of relatedness.  But it certainly astutely surveys the regular work of making ancestors and relatives.

There are some, perhaps relatively minor, asides that sometimes jar with the broader spirit of the book – the figuring of animals as beyond a genealogical imagination, ideas of genealogical proximity as proportional to our obligations to others – and these certainly deserve more careful consideration.  But the strength of book is its success in setting out the different ways in which genealogies and made to make social relations with great lucidity.

My full review:

“It is rare but not completely impossible to find accounts in the media of people who are not interested in finding out about their biological parents having been adopted as children. When they occasionally appear they are newsworthy because they standout within a wider culture that is super-saturated with accounts of the deep and fundamental significance of ancestry, whether recent parentage or ancestors long ago and far away, with its thriving commercial sector serving genealogical research in conventional and new genetic ways. The right to knowledge of genetic and biological ancestry that is so deeply part of the governance of adoption and new reproductive technologies in the UK and more widely, reflects a widespread agreement on the absolute centrality of knowledge of ancestry to psychological wholeness. It is worth considering, however, whether that centrality reflects a universal human mode of understanding selfhood and relatedness or whether the current hyper-interest in origins and ancestry is more of its time and place.

Eviatar Zerubavel’s lively, engaging and timely book Ancestors and Relatives, is more attentive to the historical continuities and universal occurrence of a genealogical imagination than to the specificities of its mobilization. This is intentional. Though the book is full of illustrative instances of genealogy’s principles and the social negotiation of the ‘natural’ facts of genealogical relatedness, the aim is openly broad. It is to explore concepts of ancestry and relatives as ‘foundational pillars of the human condition’ (p. 131). His goal is to ‘uncover the general (that is, transcultural as well as transhistorical) principles underlying the way we envision genealogical relatedness’ (p. 11), thus downplaying the singularity of the historical and cultural contexts he addresses to explore the underlying commonality of ideas of genealogical connectivity across differently scaled social collectives of family, ethno-nation, race and species, and the embeddedness of ideas of descent in all sorts of social relations and in the genealogical ordering of all sorts of things: languages, species, commodities, traditions, honorary positions.

Though this breath of vision can be disconcerting in light of the more familiar scholarly emphasis on attending to historical and geographical particularity, it is this breath which is the value of this book. Much of what he argues is already familiar to those who have pursued or been inspired by revived kinship studies in anthropology or who have already been tracking the science and culture of relatedness in genealogy and human population genetics. However, the value of the book also lies in the lucidity through which he presents both the principles of genealogical relatedness and the practices through which genealogies are made to fit social priorities, cutting through the complexities and contextual detail of the scholarship he draws together and draws on, for the sake of clarity. This makes the book important both as a resource for teaching across the social sciences and humanities and important as an engaging, accessible and for some, a challenging, intervention into public debate.

In this short and highly readable book, Eviatar Zerubavel successfully applies the classificatory logic he identifies at work in kinship, to describe the ways in which genealogical relatedness is socially delineated by manipulating genealogies which are at the same time commonly imagined as a biologically given rather than produced set of relations; he identifies and aptly names the social and cultural ‘stretching’, ‘cutting and pasting’, ‘clipping’, ‘braiding’, ‘lumping’, ‘marginalizing’, ‘splitting’, and ‘pruning’ of genealogies and reflects on their implications for models of inclusivity, distinction and difference. He is both attentive to the retrospective making of genealogies, and thus contemporary relations, and the prospective protection or production of categories of relatedness through the prohibition or purposeful making of relations through reproduction.

At the heart of this book then is an effort to address genealogical relatedness as a model for understanding relationships between people, that is universal but not natural. Despite its basis in ‘natural’, genetic or biological ties of ancestry and co-descent, ancestors and relatives are, he insists, socially and culturally defined and differentiated. But ideas of the natural are not undone in this book. The description of lack of personal knowledge of ancestry as deep psychological lack, here and much more widely, may reflect how this is experienced by many. But at the same time this emphasis on the significance of genetic or biological relatedness may help produce or intensify that sense of incompleteness. The idea of genetic or biological ancestry and relatedness being fundamental to personal or collective identity contributes to the deeply painful ways in which the practice of care and relatedness is deemed secondary to biological parentage and existing family relationships are profoundly damaged when they are found not to correspond to assumed genetic parentage, paternity especially.

More troubling is the statement, mid-way through his carefully constructed and subtle challenge to the truths of genealogy, that ‘it is probably nature that determines our obligations to others to be proportional to our genealogical proximity to them’ (p. 72). This is an unproblematised reference to the claim of evolutionary psychologists which simply naturalises antagonisms and antipathies between groups that are imagined, as he argues, as genealogically connected and genetically distinct – tribes, ethnic groups, nations, races – as well as the ‘natural’ depth of ‘natural’ biological closeness within the family. Hopefully, that lapse of critical attention that will not override the broader and important message of a book that deserves to be widely read. It is that genealogical relatedness is culturally produced, is critically important to how people categorise themselves and others and has deep consequences for boundaries of inclusion and difference. This book does not theorise, document or imagine alternatives models of relatedness but it certainly astutely surveys the regular work of making ancestors and relatives”.

See the British Journal of Sociology for how to reference the published version.

Regional genetic identities. Really?

In March 2015 the results of a major survey of genetic variation in the UK was published in Nature. This is the outcome of the People of the British Isles project which has undertaken a detailed comparison of the genomes of over 2000 people, grouped the samples on the basis of their genetic similarity and differences and then plotted these groups on a map of the UK.

The press release issued by the Welcome Trust which funded the project, began with by saying: ‘Many people in the UK feel a strong sense of regional identity, and it now appears that there may be a scientific basis to this feeling, according to a landmark new study into the genetic make up of the British Isles’.

The findings of what is proclaimed as ‘the first fine-scale genetic map of any country in the world’ show that ‘prior to the mass migrations of the 20th century there was a striking pattern of rich but subtle genetic variation across the UK, with distinct groups of genetically similar individuals clustered together geographically’.

Contemporary genetic clusters have similar locations to late 6th century ‘tribal groupings and kingdoms suggesting that they may have maintained a regional identity for many centuries’.

This all might seem on the face of it interesting but innocuous. There is nothing to suggest ideas of homogenous and genetically pure national groups, quite the opposite in fact, since the project is exploring geographical patterns of variation in order to provide a resource for biomedical research and to explore patterns of ancient settlement. So why is there any need for caution or critique?

One thing to consider is the way the project is presented in terms of ideas of identity, but effectively forms of identity that relate to those who descend from the population of the UK ‘prior to the mass migrations of the 20th century’. It is clearly stated that the map of genetic variation in the UK is of ‘a snapshot of UK genetics in the late 19th century’.

This is because in order to study evidence of ancient and early medieval patterns of settlement the research analysed only the genetic material of contemporary people who are taken to be direct descendants of those early inhabitants. The select sampling of rural and locally rooted research participants – in this case, whose ‘four grandparents all were born within 80k of each other’ – is a standard technique in studies of this kind and does not reflect nor intentionally imply any wider model of genealogically exclusive and natural belonging. This not the bad science of genetic purity, racial hierarchies and nations locked in battle to survive as the ‘fittest’.

Yet the rather downplayed issue of this being a national atlas of a past pattern of variation rather than a contemporary map needs to be kept in mind in reflecting on the way the project is presented and reported in terms of identity. Underlying all those headline nods to ‘Who do you think you are?’ and accounts of ‘national genetic heritage’ is not just the idea that studies of genetic variation today enrich a collective sense of the past, but that the collective is itself bound together and differentiated from others though a sense of shared ancestry. Again, a rather everyday, ordinary, benign or more strongly valued, valid and valorised version of collective identities. Unless of course, they are explicitly exclusive, genealogically bound and biologized ethnic, national or racialized collectives, with their intimations of blood and soil, purity and protection.

They are not in this case. Instead there is a general evocation of the project’s contribution to a collective historical knowledge in the UK and much more strong emphasis on regional identities. In much of the appreciative reporting of the project, this was taken to be proof of the diversity of regional identities which, along with evidence of historical migration prior to the 20th century, supports a liberal argument about the UK as long being a mongrel nation or nation of immigrants.

Those who picked up on the account of tribes in the project’s reporting to argue for the tribal nature of identity in the UK, echo a wider argument that strong regional identities in England can be a counterpoint to the idea of a monolithic Englishness. A geographically differentiated Englishness, for example, suggests the capacity of a collective identity to be both shared and differentiated and inclusive of difference. It reflects the regional making of identity and thus something other than a primordial and unchanging culture. But how that making is understood is crucial to the capacity for a regional identity to be something that can be inclusive and open.

If regional identities are imagined as somehow a function of genetic or genealogical inheritance, rather than shaped through cultural inheritance and contemporary practice – the doing of culture – then regional identities are then the preserve of the genealogically regionally rooted. People from different places – near and far – may come to feel a strong sense of regional affiliation in parts of the UK too, but their regional identities would be seen as somehow shallow, artificial or affected without the authentication of regional ancestry.

The problematic implications of this model of identity would be much more obvious if it was scaled up to the country as a whole. Scaled up, the equation of regionally distinctive identities with patterns of variation that reflect shared ancestry, equals genetically distinctive ethnic nations. The idea of there being a scientific basis to national identity – Englishness, or Britishness for example –would probably raise more critical hackles.

But the rather blithe invocation of longstanding regional identities and allusions to their basis in shared ancestry and reflection in genetic distinctiveness, matters deeply in terms of how people with all kinds of family histories of migration within and beyond the UK can be imagined as belonging in the localities in which they live and in the country as a whole.

So while it might be more possible to imagine Sikh Britishness for example, the idea of genealogically rooted regional identities implies that there is something more contrived or implausible about a Sikh Yorkshire identity. As attention shifts towards political agency at the local or regional level from a variety of political perspectives, there a problem of deferring authentic identity to this scale.

But regional identities are not just reified as genetic entities in the project. There is particular emphasis placed on results which suggest that a cultural, social and administrative boundary appears to coincide with a pattern of genetic difference, as in the case of Cornwall and Devon (even through this is an exception rather than typical). But in other cases ethnic categories are found not to coincide neatly with pattern of genetic variation.

This depends on the scale and resolution of differentiation, with Wales being differentiated from Scotland and thus challenging a shared Celtic identity but also internally divided north from south. Some sorts and some scales of identity are linked to a regional geography of shared ancestry and genealogical depth while others appear as if they are based on mistaken assumptions of this. People from different ‘Celtic parts of the UK’, for example, are presented as genetically dissimilar despite cultural affinities.

In a time of intensified issues of national difference and devolution in the UK, results like this can be taken up in arguments about political unity and autonomy in different ways. But this is also an issue here of taking historically subordinated identities that have been shaped by resistance to English centralised power within the British Isles as objects of genetic analysis and deconstruction in a scientific project emanating from that centre.

This contrasts with the finding that the ‘majority of eastern, central and southern England is made up of a single, relatively homogenous, genetic group with a significant contribution from Anglo-Saxon migrations’. Despite wider evidence of regional genetic variation and the broad emphasis on regional identities, this could easily furnish resources for claims about a white, Anglo-Saxon people of England in the late 19th century and arguments about the loss of purity and threats to its last survivors through immigration. Genetically proven regional identities matter to the politics of inclusion and difference at any scale but probably most obviously when scaled up to the nation itself, and open to racialization – that ‘single genetically homogenous’ southern Englishness.

Oddly, any sense of the Irishness of Northern Ireland is simply erased with the results suggesting a mixture of English and Scottish ancestry. This reflects the study’s focus on the UK rather than the British Isles (despite its name), but a project like this has to be considered in relation to the old and new politics of difference and belonging in and between these two islands.

So beneath the headlines of the scientifically proven genealogical basis of regional identities, there is a more contradictory simultaneous making and unmaking of identities as genetic going on here. This calls for a similarly double critique: one that challenges the apparently benign model of regional identities, found in patterns of genetic variation, based in shared ancestry and passed on genealogically; and challenges the more fundamental idea that genetic similarity based on shared ancestry is the basis of collective identity, whether it is affirmed or undermined by maps of genetic variation.

Ancestry, what’s the trouble?

Having use ‘the trouble with ancestry’ as the subtitle of my recent book, Genetic Geographies: The Trouble with Ancestry, 2015, it is worth setting out what I mean by this.

It is well known that thousands of people spend a lot of time and money trying to find out about their ancestors. Interests in family history has grown and grown over the last decades as has genealogy has gone digital with huge amounts of data available online for free or for a fee. It has also gone genetic. Over the last fifteen years more and more companies offer on-line tests to provide information to customers about distant ancestry and places of origin.

This is paralleled, and often underpinned, by scientific efforts to know the timing and geography of human origins and early migration though studying patterns of human genetic variation across the world and in specific regions. Sometimes the focus is on a global family tree or the histories of settlement of specific places and the ancestral relationships between particular groups of people.

So what’s the problem? One response to this might be to simply say that there are better things for individuals or research institutes to spend time and money doing – paying attention to living people rather than the dead, addressing pressing issues about human welfare, inequality and the future of all living things on the planet. Of course one key argument for studying human genetic variation is its potential usefulness to biomedicine. The other is the value of collective self-understanding, of ‘knowing where we came from’. But with some exceptions, the medical benefits are all unfulfilled promises so far. So a lot rests then on the significance of knowing ‘our’ past.

And knowing about the past matters to people. Most people would agree about the value of historical knowledge in helping individuals and societies understand themselves. Ancestral knowledge also matters particularly to people who have lost that knowledge through the displacement or enslavement of their ancestors, or when ancestry is linked to political claims about rights to land and the survival of livelihoods for indigenous groups.

The trouble with ancestry is not about the focus on ancestors itself. It is about the particular models of ancestry and relatedness that are often at work in the ordinary genealogy, and that are routinely at work in genetic genealogy. These versions of relatedness are also found in the science of human genetic diversity that underpins these tests for ancestry and accounts of the origins and migration of early humans.

Genealogy, as a historical practice based on documents, involves compiling family trees that are as detailed and as accurate as possible. Family history is close and overlapping but allows more for stories, memories, interpretation, imagination and selectivity about emphasis and focus. Though this is often part of genealogy too, and these terms overlap, perhaps the rules of who and who is not a relative are more flexible in family stories than in family trees. The practice of relatedness is also much more flexible than rigid kinship categories: people who are unrelated in a conventional sense can be valued as relatives. Real relatives can fail to act like relatives or not be included in who counts as family. Families in practice are complex and variable social units.

But relatedness has to be genetic in genetic genealogy and human population genetics. This is logical since the focus is on patterns of genetic variation, similarity and difference that are shaped by human reproduction rather than relatedness as a social practice. But this matters given the way in which knowledge of personal and collective ancestry is given so much significance to ideas collective identity in the presentation of human population genetics and genetic genealogy.

What might seem to be a benign idea – that ancestry is a central to relatedness – has more troubling implications. If ancestry is meant to mean so much, does that imply that not sharing ancestry naturally differentiates people – that social closeness somehow naturally correlates with genetic closeness? If genealogical connections between people are meant to mean so much, does this suggest that there is no natural basis for senses of care between those who are not related or for people far away geographically, genealogically and genetically.

Of course an idea of humanity as a single family, sharing ancestors and ancient origins, can counter divisive ideas of difference especially race. But studies of human genetic variation are about variation not global sameness, about degrees and differentiated patterns of relatedness rather than generalised relatedness. If shared ancestry is figured as such a positive thing in terms of collective identity, could is not sharing much, or only very distantly in the past, be used as a natural explanation for antipathy or antagonism between groups?

It is rare for dangerous claims like this to be made directly but they are the logical implications of celebratory accounts of the discovery of shared ancestry between people or suggestions that collective identities have some basis in shared ancestry and genetic similarity. Ethnic and national groups are traditionally understood as being in some sense communities of shared descent but in practice are more flexible, dynamic and fluid than strictly genealogical.

Furthermore, genetic tests for ancestry, and the science that underpins them, depend on a process of producing human groups as ‘genetic clusters’ out of the tiny and geographically continuous pattern of genetic variation between people. They depend on naming those groups as if they are both natural units of genetic variation and cultural units – the Irish, or the European for example. This has the potential to suggest that collective identities and senses of belonging at different scales – local, regional or national, or continental – are based on shared ancestry. Issues of race, nation and ethnicity are all entangled here.

So in contrast to those who claim that human population genetics and genetic ancestry tests have the potential to undermine ideas of race, or exclusive versions of ethnicity of nation, my argument here and in Genetic Geographies is they are not the places to look for complex, subtle and simply better understandings of ancestry and relatedness.

the Irish, or the European for example. This has the potential to suggest that collective identities and senses of belonging at different scales – local, regional or national, or continental – are based on shared ancestry. Issues of race, nation and ethnicity are all entangled here.

So in contrast to those who claim that human population genetics and genetic ancestry tests have the potential to undermine ideas of race, or exclusive versions of ethnicity of nation, my argument here and in Genetic Geographies is they are not the places to look for complex, subtle and simply better understandings of ancestry and relatedness.

welcome to my new website

Inspired by the possibilities of having a personal space online, I have set this website up be more of a digital public geographer and to share reflections on kinship of different kinds. A new format will open up possibilities of working with words and images in new ways. This is just the beginning…