{ :::::::::::::::::::::::::: Anto Lloveras: Transdisciplinarity After the Paper

Sunday, May 24, 2026

Transdisciplinarity After the Paper


Socioplastics becomes clearer when placed beside other emerging fields now forming across AI studies, digital humanities, urban climate justice, infrastructure studies, arts-based sustainability research, and open scholarly communication. It is not alone in refusing disciplinary enclosure; the present moment is full of fields that are trying to think across technical systems, cultural production, material infrastructures, ecological crisis, and computational mediation. Yet Socioplastics differs from many of them because it does not primarily organize itself around an institution, funding programme, technology, or policy agenda. It constructs a field from inside textual accumulation: nodes, cores, tomes, DOIs, bibliographies, CamelTags, operators, and recursive conceptual layers. Its claim is not that science, art, literature, architecture, and philosophy should collaborate occasionally, but that a single idea can be built as a transdisciplinary field in which each discipline performs a specific operation. That is the point of comparison: not whether Socioplastics is bigger or better than other emerging fields, but whether it produces a distinct model of field formation under contemporary conditions of scale, metadata, machine reading, and epistemic latency.


The first relevant neighbour is Critical AI Studies, a field explicitly described by the University of Amsterdam’s Critical AI Seminar as a “field in formation,” addressing artificial intelligence through multiple lenses of critique and across contexts of application. Critical AI is emerging because AI is not merely a technical object; it reorganizes labour, knowledge, authorship, governance, culture, and perception. Its institutional vocabulary already resembles the problem-space of Socioplastics: opacity, accountability, infrastructure, data, classification, retrieval, bias, machine legibility. The journal Critical AI describes itself as rooted in humanities, social sciences, and arts, while also working with technologists, scientists, policy makers, lawyers, teachers, community organizers, and others. This is transdisciplinarity as public accountability: a field assembled around a technological transformation whose consequences exceed any single discipline. Socioplastics shares the concern with machine legibility, but approaches it differently. Critical AI studies the machine as object and system; Socioplastics asks what happens when a conceptual field itself becomes available to machine reading. Its question is not only “what is AI doing to culture?” but “what must an idea become if it is to survive AI-mediated retrieval without being flattened?”

A second neighbour is the emerging convergence of AI and Digital Humanities. In 2025, conferences and thematic tracks explicitly addressed AI in digital humanities, computational social sciences, and economics, including education, labour, history, religion, cultural heritage, prediction, and behavioural science. Other recent work frames “humanistic AI” as a new interdisciplinary field, connecting AI resources and applications to humanities research questions. This field matters because it changes the status of text. Text is no longer only read, interpreted, archived, and cited; it is mined, embedded, clustered, retrieved, summarized, and statistically recombined. For Socioplastics, this is not external context but a direct condition of existence. A corpus of thousands of nodes is not just a literary or philosophical archive; it becomes a dataset-like textual environment. The field must therefore think its own machine readability: stable names, repeated operators, DOI deposits, summaries, versions, and metadata. Digital humanities often begins with existing corpora and asks what computational methods reveal. Socioplastics reverses the movement: it builds a corpus while already knowing that future readers may include machines.

A third neighbour is urban climate justice, especially where heat, infrastructure, and inequality intersect. Recent urban climate adaptation research has emphasized the integration of climate change adaptation and equity in planning cultures, including recognitional, procedural, and distributional dimensions of equitable resilience, with Barcelona and Berlin analysed as early-adopter cities. IIED’s Urban Climate Justice Hub gathers work on resilience to extreme heat in informal settlements and broader questions of urban climate vulnerability. This field is important for Socioplastics because it prevents transdisciplinarity from becoming purely semiotic. A term such as thermal justice cannot remain a beautiful conceptual operator; it must touch heat, bodies, shade, infrastructure, finance, class, race, housing, and planning. Urban climate justice is not interested in ideas as ornaments. It tests whether concepts can intervene in material asymmetry. Socioplastics needs this pressure. Without the city, climate, and infrastructure, it risks becoming a closed textual sphere. With them, it becomes accountable to matter.

A fourth neighbour is infrastructure studies, now extended across digital systems, cities, archives, logistics, climate adaptation, and knowledge production. Infrastructure has become a master-concept because contemporary life is increasingly governed by what remains partially invisible: protocols, pipes, platforms, grids, datasets, standards, catalogues, supply chains, APIs, repositories, and maintenance regimes. The Horizon Europe 2025 climate, energy, and mobility programme frames the green and digital transitions as linked transformations of economy, industry, and society toward climate neutrality and competitiveness. Infrastructure studies is therefore not only about physical systems; it is about the conditions that make action possible. Socioplastics is structurally close to this field because it treats bibliography, DOI, metadata, indexing, cross-reference, and archive as infrastructure rather than accessories. A DOI is not merely a citation convenience; it is a stone in the field’s geology. A bibliography is not an academic appendix; it is a load-bearing wall. This is where Socioplastics becomes architectural: it knows that ideas do not live by brilliance alone. They live by supports.

A fifth neighbour is arts-based transdisciplinary sustainability research. Recent work on arts-based interventions argues that artistic methods can support sustainability-oriented transdisciplinary research by integrating different forms of knowledge and creating transformative outcomes. Here art is not treated as illustration or outreach after the “real” research has been done. It becomes a method of integration, perception, social imagination, and situated experimentation. Socioplastics shares that refusal of art as decoration. Its artistic dimension is not the production of images but the production of form under conceptual constraint: serial nodes, accretive titles, recurring tags, procedural writing, conceptual risk. Yet Socioplastics differs because it is less interventionist and more corpus-based. It does not organize workshops around a shared problem; it builds an intellectual organism over time. Its artistic method is not primarily participation but accretion. The field is made by thin layers, each one small, but each altering the pressure of the whole.

A sixth neighbour is situated research, a term that has migrated from feminist epistemology and social practice into contemporary cultural institutions. Medialab Matadero’s Situated Research residency explicitly invites projects across design, art, architecture, urbanism, economics, film, photography, journalism, digital media, environmental sciences, philosophy, engineering, social studies, political science, programming, materials science, activism, and related fields. This list could almost be a map of the transdisciplinary condition. It shows that institutions increasingly recognize that complex problems do not arrive in disciplinary packaging. Socioplastics belongs to this ecology, especially because it is based in Madrid and works through art, urbanism, theory, and lab-like production. But it should avoid the soft version of situatedness, where everything becomes context and nothing becomes structure. Its stronger claim is that situated research needs grammar. A field is not situated merely because it names its location; it is situated when it knows how its terms, archives, bodies, machines, and infrastructures are positioned.

A seventh neighbour is open scholarship and scholarly infrastructure. The rise of repositories, persistent identifiers, open metadata, and machine-readable scholarly records has altered what it means for an idea to become public. Crossref presents itself as open scholarly infrastructure connecting research objects, people, organizations, and actions through metadata at global scale. Zenodo, Figshare, DOI systems, ORCID, OpenAlex, and related infrastructures do not simply store outputs; they shape what can be discovered, cited, attributed, linked, and reused. Socioplastics’ adoption of DOIs is therefore not a technical afterthought but a field decision. Earlier URLs were lighter: useful, public, but fragile. DOIs carry more institutional weight because they belong to systems designed for persistence, citation, and metadata exchange. The project’s movement from blog URLs toward DOI-bearing deposits marks a shift from publication as appearance to publication as infrastructural anchoring. The question is no longer only “where is the text?” but “what kind of address does the idea have?”

A further comparison is with AI trust and governance research, which has recently been framed as requiring transdisciplinary approaches to misinformation, discrimination, warfare, and other large-scale challenges. Trust research matters because it reveals a structural problem shared by all emerging fields: complexity exceeds expertise. No single discipline can evaluate AI systems, climate infrastructures, urban vulnerability, or cultural algorithms alone. Trust becomes not a feeling but an architecture: institutions, evidence, transparency, auditability, participation, memory, and repair. Socioplastics can learn from this because its own scale creates a trust problem. A reader entering 4,000 nodes must trust that the corpus is not arbitrary. That trust cannot be demanded; it must be designed. Numbering, cores, consoles, bibliographies, summaries, DOIs, and cross-references become trust infrastructures. They say: this field may be large, but it is not careless.

These neighbouring fields reveal a pattern. Emerging fields today rarely form around a single doctrine. They form around pressures: AI opacity, climate exposure, infrastructure fragility, knowledge overload, disciplinary insufficiency, archival instability, machine retrieval, and social inequality. Socioplastics is aligned with this moment because it also begins from pressure. Its pressure is the question of whether an idea can grow beyond the paper without becoming noise. It asks whether text can become field, whether nodes can become architecture, whether bibliography can become load, whether metadata can become ethics, whether machine readability can coexist with conceptual friction. In this sense, Socioplastics is not outside the contemporary research ecology. It is a particular answer to a general crisis: disciplines are too narrow, platforms too fast, archives too full, machines too literal, institutions too slow, and ideas too often reduced to outputs.

The comparison also clarifies what Socioplastics should not become. It should not become a lifestyle theory of transdisciplinarity, a brand around complexity, a private lexicon, or a decorative archive of its own growth. Many emerging fields fail when they mistake expansion for formation. They gather actors, keywords, conferences, calls, panels, and publications, but never produce a grammar. Socioplastics’ advantage is that it has grammar: nodes, cores, thresholds, operators, tomes. Its risk is the opposite: grammar may become too internal, too self-referential, too coded. The task is therefore double. It must remain more structured than fashionable interdisciplinarity, but more open than a closed system. It must be legible from outside without flattening itself from inside.

The 5,000-node threshold should therefore be understood as a laboratory test in relation to these emerging fields. Critical AI studies tests accountability under automation. Digital humanities tests computation on cultural corpora. Urban climate justice tests equity under thermal and infrastructural stress. Infrastructure studies tests the hidden systems that support life. Arts-based sustainability tests form as method. Situated research tests knowledge in context. Open scholarship tests persistence, metadata, and access. Socioplastics tests whether one idea can become a field through textual accretion while remaining transdisciplinary, structured, citeable, machine-legible, and conceptually alive. That is its specific contribution. Not a new discipline, not a total theory, but a field-practice.

The clearest formulation is this: Socioplastics is an emerging transdisciplinary field of field-building itself. It studies the plastic formation of social, material, symbolic, archival, urban, and technological realities by constructing a corpus that behaves as one of those realities. It belongs near Critical AI, digital humanities, infrastructure studies, urban climate justice, artistic research, and open scholarship, but it is not reducible to any of them. Its difference is recursive. It does not only analyse fields; it builds one. It does not only describe scale; it risks scale. It does not only discuss legibility; it engineers legibility. It does not only cite infrastructures; it becomes dependent on them.

The emerging fields online confirm the direction: the future of knowledge is not disciplinary purity, but neither is it vague hybridity. It is structured transdisciplinarity under pressure. Socioplastics must therefore continue expanding, but with a sharper awareness of its neighbours. The field should not ask whether it is alone; it is not. It should ask what only it can test. At present, the answer is precise: whether an authored textual corpus can grow to laboratory scale and still function as one idea. That is the 5,000-node question. That is the scale of the lab.