Alice Bloch: 0:00

Hi, it's Alice here. I produce Uncommon Sense. Thanks for coming here to listen to our conversation about endings with Patricia Kingori. Before we get going, I thought I'd let you know about an Introduction to Podcasting workshop we're hosting on the 18th May 2026, delivered by Research Podcasts. I'll be there. It's from 10am till four, online, for 12 people, and you can find out much more information on what we'll cover and how to buy a ticket in the link that's in our show notes. And of course, if you're listening to this after May – or if the event is sold out – why not sign up to our newsletter to hear about everything that we're doing at the Sociological Review Foundation. That's in our show notes too. Thanks for listening.

Rosie Hancock: 0:48

Hi everyone. Welcome to Uncommon Sense. I'm Rosie Hancock joining you from Dresden in Germany for this show. We'll get to the usual intro in a moment, but I'm going

to start today with a question: 0:57

who decides when something has ended? This is the kind of question I think you could have a great dinner party conversation about, because you'd get excellent conversation. Maybe, you know, your friends are going to talk about their vague breakups. Maybe about dramatic, you know, quitting of their jobs. You could get into some more serious stuff as well, like health or rental contracts or welfare. Or– and I guess this kind of depends on your friends, to be honest, somewhere a bit more academic, so – you could talk about transhumanism, about climate change and the Anthropocene, about the nature of time itself – I'm embarrassed to say I have had that dinner party conversation – or maybe Francis Fukuyama and his End of History thesis from the early 1990s. But I think, you know, it all goes to show how perfect this topic is for our podcast today, the theme being endings. We like to think most things in life, in fact life itself, has a clear beginning, middle and an end. But it's not really the case, and thinking about endings brings us very quickly to some really big sociological questions. We can ask about power. We can ask about time, inequality, value and so on. I'm sort of getting ahead of myself, though, because this is Uncommon Sense. Welcome, and we are coming to you from the Sociological Review Foundation. We're a charity and we work to communicate the importance of the sociological imagination far and wide, beyond academia, and in this podcast we take everyday notions and flip them around to give them a sociological twist, to look at them a little bit sideways. Talking to us about endings today is Patricia Kingori. Patricia is a busy Professor of Global Health Ethics at the Ethox Centre, University of Oxford. Her work fuses sociology, ethics and science and technology studies, STS. And crucially, that question we asked just now – who decides when something has ended– that's the key question of a fascinating project for which Patricia is the lead investigator. It's called After the End, which is funded by a Wellcome Discovery Award and is centred on questions around crises, global health, aftermath and endings. The project asks things like: how do different ideas of the end reproduce pre-existing structural inequalities, and what would a focus on after the end of events mean for the way we think about time? The project is super interdisciplinary and features researchers spanning continents and has some really great creative outputs, including a poetry competition and a podcast. We're going to hear more about it in a moment, and we should warn you here that our conversation is likely to include discussion of illness and child loss. Hi, Patricia, welcome.

Patricia Kingori: 4:03

Hello, and thank you so much for having me.

Rosie Hancock: 4:05

Before we get into talking about the project, I wanted to ask you what the word endings means to you personally. Like, have you ever gotten into a tangle over an ending or a misunderstanding about time and its marking?

Patricia Kingori: 4:17

Rosie, that's such a great question, and I don't think anyone's ever asked me that. I mean, I've been, I've thought about it academically, but personally, I think, like most people, I have spent quite a lot of my life really thinking about things in terms of the narrative of a beginning, middle and end. Really from childhood, the stories we're told – beginning, middle and end – it's how we are taught to write, how we are taught to communicate. And I think for a long time, I've really believed that that is the way that things are supposed to be, even though I've lived with things that haven't had an end. And so it's really interesting to think about this difference between how we should feel and how we actually feel.

Rosie Hancock: 5:03

Yeah. I mean, I know that I kind of think about, I mean, just that very first thing in the intro that I said about relationships, you know, I sort of separated from my partner and when you do formal separations you have to determine what is the date, what is your formal separation date? And it's sort of like, how do you, when do you? And there are certain legal things, right? Like, you know, is it the date that they moved out of the house, or is it the date that you actually said to each other, no, this is over. Or, like, when do you place the end in these, you know, you get given something by the state, this is the, you, here are the things that you can use to determine the end, but you have to kind of come up with an agreed date on which you end the relationship and it's just such an interesting thing.

Patricia Kingori: 5:43

I mean, it's so powerful to be able to turn

around to somebody and say: 5:47

this is, this is over. It's ended now. And that's a power move, it's such a power move to tell somebody that they're late for something, you know, it's to control someone's time and to control time is one of the most powerful instruments that people in power have, I think. And my colleagues and I on the After the End project, we often describe time as the invisible variable in power. So if I were to talk about money and power, you'd understand, or law and power, because we've spent a lot of time paying attention to these things. But increasingly, I think people are beginning to think about time and power. We've had this enormous shifting with COVID, where people are like, okay, I could actually structure my time in a completely different way and get work done in a different way, and I can condense my day and get this time back. And so I think that these kind of questions around time and power have, of course, been there all along, but I think they've become much more surface and much more prominent as we've had this huge kind of societal shifts. I think at the same time, we're becoming increasingly disillusioned with the ways in which we've been motivated towards an end in the past. In the 20th century, we had these big claims, you know, an end to poverty, an end to illness, an end to these wars. Now we're facing forever wars, we're facing really complex ideas about endings, and we're living in a world where, of protracted ends, lots of the illnesses that we thought we'd never see again are back. So we're now thinking about, okay, so what happens after these ends? Because either they don't seem to appear, or they seem very protracted, or actually they come to us in very violent ways. So, somebody gets to say to former residents and survivors of Grenfell, for example, this is over. It's done now. We're taking the building down and this is the end of it. And they're saying, well no, it's not over actually. We haven't had justice yet. We're still living with all of the ramifications of what's happened. So, I think what the project is doing is actually crystallising what lots of people have been thinking about, but maybe not in a comprehensive way, as, as a part of really challenging power structures in their everyday life.

Rosie Hancock: 8:26

Yeah. By Grenfell, you're referring to the Grenfell Tower fire of 2017 in West London that killed 72 people. And you brought up a couple of things in there that we're going to circle back around to later in the conversation, like war or diseases that we thought we had eradicated. Before we get there though, I would really like to talk more about your project, this project itself. So I understand After the End was inspired partly by a frustrated research project in Sierra Leone about Ebola. Is that right? You weren't able to do the research there at the time you wanted, but you were told, don't worry, sometimes the most interesting things happen after the end. So, tell us what happened after that, like what kinds of questions this project, After the End, came to take on and its breadth?

Patricia Kingori: 9:16

Thank you. Yes, that's right. There was something about the conversation that I had that really crystallised my thinking. So, I had received some funding to go to Sierra Leone to do some research on how the frontline workers caring for people with Ebola, how they were experiencing the outbreak. And I was quite excited to go, and became increasingly frustrated as hurdles were presented to me, including travel bans and, you know, not being able to get insured. And they said, well, we can see that you're really trying, but just don't worry about it. Just come afterwards, because, you know, that's when the most interesting things happen anyways, is afterwards. And I thought it was such an interesting idea, and they were absolutely right, of course, because when all the international teams left, when they had to deal with all of the physical labour and all of the stress of what Ebola actually meant, it meant doing that when the world had already moved on, people had got their promotions and tenureship, their publications had been written. One of the most prominent publications about Ebola was written even before it was declared over. So, I thought that was fascinating. And then I think when I started the After the End project, by the time we had started the project there had been in West Africa 13 official declarations of endings of Ebola outbreaks. So, they just keep, they just keep being at these ribbon cutting ceremonies right where it's like, and it's over, and it's over again and it's over. So I thought that was really interesting as well, just like repeating these declarations of endings and people's lives, having to navigate these endings. And when something ends, of course, it allows people to withdraw resources, withdraw attention, and yet it was clear that very little attention was had been paid to how do people make a life in the aftermath of these endings? How do they make sense of things? And of course, it was at that point about Sierra Leone and Ebola, but it seemed to me to really resonate with lots of different parts of the world. And of course, I think that's where the sort of sociological lens is really important, because it elevates something from this very hyper local focus to looking at global patterns, social patterns.

Rosie Hancock: 11:52

Yeah, and so I mean thinking about what the project is like now, could you kind of give us an indication of its breadth and, you know, some of the aims, the scale of it?

Patricia Kingori: 12:01

I think the subject of time, in order to take that seriously really requires an interdisciplinary focus. So, of course, I think working with historians is really important – and the project has a number of historians on it – but also anthropologists. We've got legal scholars to really help us to understand how time is framed and embedded in other areas of social life. And one of the things I'm really been fascinated with and learned a lot from is Ruth Ogden, who is a psychologist of time on the project, who's really helped us to think about how we feel time, and how trauma affects the way that we feel time. In addition to that, I thought it was really crucial to work with people who were very close to issues that could give us very grounded, in depth examples. I'm working very closely with colleagues in Brazil, I went back to Sierra Leone and working really closely with colleagues there and also in China and in the region really, to try to get different concepts of time, different examples of how time is contested, different ideas about

Rosie Hancock: 13:17

We're going to feature the project website in our show notes, so that everyone can go there. And the project is, I believe, funded by a Wellcome grant. And so, you know, on the website there's a poetry, the poetry competition, endings. a podcast, a lot of, a lot of stuff there. But talking about you for a moment, Patricia, your background is health ethics, as we've already mentioned. And you know, health would seem a very obvious place, I think, to argue that time is straightforward. We are born and we die, and on our birth certificate and on our death certificate there is usually a time. So, I mean, is it social constructionism gone mad to argue otherwise? I'm curious what you'd say to that. I mean, you just mentioned about how you're working with people from different places in the world to think about different conceptions of time. We could also think about the way different indigenous groups think about time differently.

Patricia Kingori: 14:14

Yeah. Thank you. I love that because this idea of putting the time that you're born, the time that you die, is such a powerful entry and exit, isn't it, just to think about that. But I've realised, of course, that this is firstly, lots of people are born in the world without birth and death, and they die without death certificates, right? So these are not requirements of existence, there's something else. But of course, this idea of birth and death also doesn't always travel well between cultures. So, one of the things I've learned, certainly working with indigenous people, indigenous thinking, is around circular time and births and death mean something completely different. We've just done a podcast with Danya Carroll and she was saying that you don't, there is no word for goodbye in lots of indigenous languages. You know, there's see you later, or see you soon. So I think that there are lots of ways in which some of the things that we take as absolute facts can be opened up and questioned from different cultural perspectives, which is why I think working with anthropologists is so fascinating as well.

Rosie Hancock: 15:29

Yeah, it's like we create our own understanding of how time works through how we communicate with each other. It's sort of like produced relationally in some sense. But I mean, I'm curious about where this idea came from, that things have a beginning and a middle and an end. I understand that there was this process of transition to standardising time, to do with the railways, I believe, in, in the UK. I'm from Australia, I'm from Australia and so, you know, there was indigenous time and then there was colonial time was sort of imposed on there. But I'm so curious about this idea that there used to be lots of different ways in the same place, you could be in the same country and, and people in different places have this different understanding of what time it was. But then there was this thing, the railway, that comes in and says, right now, we all have to agree on what the time is, or the railways won't work, and it's, it's such an interesting process.

Patricia Kingori: 16:24

Yes, and it's so fascinating that idea of thinking about especially in the UK. So, across the country, there were different ideas of time. Oxford's a different time to Bristol. Newcastle had its own time. Scotland had its own, like across the country, there was completely different ideas around time. Alice in Wonderland, you know, the hare, it's classic line, we're late, we're late, we're late. That was there because Oxford time is five minutes after London time, and by London time lots of people in Oxford would always be late. So, this idea about time and lateness is always linked into power, and who gets to say who is on time. There's still some people in Oxford who, as a kind of silent protest, always starts their lectures at five past the hour, because Oxford time is different to every other time. And so really it was the introduction of the railway that meant that a standardised time had to be adhered to. But whose time was adhered to? It was the London time. It really links into many of these ideas of kind of North-South as well. You know, northern as being – really pejoratively, sometimes – caricatured as being slower, behind, because the London time was the time, right? So of course, by virtue of being further away from London, you're late. The other thing I think is really interesting is one of the very first things that often happened when colonisation of a country took place was that the time was changed. The time became the time of the coloniser. And Frantz Fanon and other people have written much about this idea of colonial time, but it wasn't only just with colonial time. So if you speak to people in the Netherlands, you know, one of the things the Nazis did when they invaded was to change the time, and it's a power move, of course, to say whatever it is that you're doing is no longer relevant. We decide when things happen. And so I think sometimes paying attention to time in this way can often give us a sense of these kind of hangovers of power, of things that took place that we can no longer see, but they're there in how the day is structured and how people and society is structured.

Rosie Hancock: 18:55

That's so fascinating. And I love the idea of like the residue of the past remains in the way we think about time and the way we structure our day, let's say. But one of your co-authored pieces talks about actually the nature of research itself and the concept of endings within a research project. And sometimes we give the appearance that a research project has this neat and tidy ending, but that's, that's not always the case, and I was hoping that you could reflect on that for us, because I think, you know, the, what I loved is that the piece really points to the responsibility that we have as researchers to reflect that what might be the end for us as the researchers often isn't the end for the, for the people involved in the project, for the participants or other other people sort of associated with the research. And you know, I mean, you could even, we can even play on words here, right, and talk about the end of research having two different meanings, end as in the finish, but also end as in the purpose of the research as well. And I think I might be right that this discussion comes up in the context of a piece about a woman whose child had died of a virus in Brazil and her experience of being involved in a research project. Am I right about that as well?

Patricia Kingori: 20:18

Yes, so that's a piece of work has been led by my colleague, Debora Diniz in Brazil. And I think one of the things we were really pushing back from in that article was these kind of very industrialised and militaristic ways of doing research that have become really commonplace, right? You know, the kind of getting in, getting on and getting out. And how do we deal with that when people are dealing with ongoing grief, but they have entrusted us with narrative stories, their lives, about things that we've seen and care about. I think there is something that we often have to pretend that we're not having these ongoing relationships with people. They seem to be off the record, or something that you do of your own volition, rather than actually something that is a really integral part of ethical engagements with research. So I think how to – quote unquote – end these research relationships is something often that people don't talk enough about. But in terms of sociological research, how do we take seriously the pain and suffering of others when we've gained particular insights into that, and they've entrusted us with those stories I think.

Rosie Hancock: 21:45

Just winding back a bit, could you tell us just a little bit more about the story behind the paper itself, the woman we mentioned?

Patricia Kingori: 21:53

In relation to that story, I think the idea around that is that we've got my colleagues in Brazil, Debora Diniz, had formed this ongoing relationship with women who were caring for children with Zika. And so the value of this case study was that when Zika was declared over by the Brazilian government and ended, there were all of these women who were still caring for their children who had no support and were just expected to kind of, just kind of get on with it essentially. And by support, I mean not only sort of financial support, but also recognition for the work that they were doing in caring for the children. And so as part of that, there's also this idea that you're only really entitled to recognition if your child is still alive, but what happens to people who have had these experiences and their children have died? And so really, this situation with, in the paper is really discussing some of these kind of tiny entanglements, you know, this woman was caring for a child that had Zika, her child has died, she's now involved in supporting other women. What happens to our sense of what over looks like or an ending looks like in this scenario, I think.

Rosie Hancock: 23:14

Yeah and like in talking about how research participants experience time and endings. And it occurred to me how powerful the prefix sort of post- can be, whether we're talking about post-natal or post-war. Because soon as you put that prefix in front of something, call something post whatever, the idea is that there's some kind of moving on, we're past whatever the thing is, and that moving on needs to start taking place, when in reality, it's often not that simple because – I mean, as, as we've been talking about – endings are contested and invoking them is a power play, and this has a real life impact on whether people get support, where budget gets spent, that kind of thing. Like, we could talk about today I think the debate about whether we are, in fact, post-COVID. So you know, if you have long COVID, it's really not over. And I know you've written on COVID with Ruth Ogden for the New Scientist magazine, and could you fill us in on that a bit?

Patricia Kingori: 24:15

Again, who gets to say that COVID has ended? And this isn't our attempt to prolong things that people who are affected want to end. It's actually an attempt to keep open something that survivors and those affected feel has been closed down without a sense of justice. So I think understanding it from that position, it's not that we're saying everything should be over. There are very, there are very many things, for example, that people are very happy to have ended, and they feel actually very glad to be able to put that behind us. And you see that very much with things that are related to stigma, right? There isn't a stigma for many people around having cancer in the same way that it was. For example, you wouldn't, many people wouldn't tell their nearest and dearest they had cancer, it was highly stigmatised. And you can say that that has ended, no one's saying keep stigma alive. The point is thinking carefully about temporal justice from the position of the people who are the most affected and using them as the steer to say that this is still ongoing. And we see this very much with people with long COVID who are just told that, you know, well your benefits are cut now, off you go, get a job, and they're like, well, I still cannot work. And so the paper was really looking again at who gets to say that COVID is over when you have so many hundreds of thousands of people across the world that's still dealing with long COVID symptoms. And it's worth also saying that the vast majority of these are women. And the reason why it's worth saying this is because this idea of whose voice gets made invisible when we're talking about temporal justice becomes very, very important. So we see this very much with the Zika mums who are just expected to just continue caring for these children with really complex health needs because, well, you're a mum and that's what you, you do. And I think, you know, this idea of somebody with long COVID just being expected to have people care for them, because they're not the bread, the primary breadwinner, you know, I think is, for me, the image of somebody with long COVID, incapacitated, isolated and having their whole life changed, and yet everybody thinks that COVID is over and so they're made so invisible by that, is the thing that was really at the heart of that paper with Ruth, is just, let's keep these conversations open. And if we're not sure whether something is over or not, how about we ask the people who are affected by that?

Rosie Hancock: 27:04

Yeah. I mean, like, this is reminding me about earlier, you spoke about how there were, you know, there's been multiple declarations about the end of Ebola and, like, ribbon cutting ceremonies and celebrations. And, in a sense, there's like a political win to be had here, there's, there's like an expediency to saying we've beaten this thing, COVID is done, we can celebrate, we can move on. And on the flip side, it's sort of inconvenient, and perhaps politically inconvenient, to be forced to take note of these things that are supposed to have gone away or have been resolved. Whether, I mean, you can, we can talk about an illness like COVID, but I mean, you can also talk about people who arrive as refugees in western cities, or people who are visibly ill when we like to pretend that everything is well. And you know, this kind of speaks to another co-authored piece from the project on a man who died in 2024 and was the last known user of an iron lung after having suffered from polio. And I'm curious if you see a link between all of these things that we're talking about?

Patricia Kingori: 28:11

Yes, because I feel that, you know, there's been such a push to eradicate something like polio, we've forgotten about the man that was there in this iron lung. We have been enticed by these ideas that endings can happen, we can bring them about when we want them to happen. And this idea of being motivated towards a really clearly discernible end generates enormous amounts of resources, momentum, political will, and then what happens when they don't arrive is we almost have these sort of scenarios of misdirection. We've kind of said, okay, didn't happen, let's just look over here, look at what's happening over here. And this man with this iron lung is kind of left there, and many people just not aware that he even existed. And so I think, you know, Dora Vargha is a person who really has done so much work on this, really to help us to think about this, what does it mean for something to have ended? I mean, polio hasn't, didn't end for him, he was still living with it. So these questions, I think, are really, really important to us, because I think that many of the strategies around endings and the narratives around endings have been adopted very much in this new world of this, what been described as kind of techno-fascism, right, that these things are going to bring an end to all of these issues and concerns that we have. And firstly, are they actually capable of doing that? And secondly, what happens after that end? You know, for us, it's really worth paying attention to this, because a lot of these narratives are not new. They're just recycled and used to push through all sorts of changes that essentially have been shown time and time again to only really benefit the very powerful. So when you change the clocks, who benefits from that, and when you decide that this new piece of technology is either time saving or going to alter our time, who benefits from that?

Rosie Hancock: 30:18

I find it really fascinating to think about this in the context of war in particular, and whether something is new or whether it's sort of just never ending. Because we're recording this in early March 2026 and, you know, right now the US and Israel are bombing Iran. We've heard assertions that this war, whose ends aren't actually clear yet, may take a while, but it's not going to take years and it's not going to take forever. This comes to mind, firstly, because it raises questions of whether this is a new war, what its end is and when it will end, and whether anyone can really make claims as to when ends will come. And it also makes us think about how through history, thinking here of the building of the atomic bomb at Los Alamos in World War Two, we've been told that this or that weapon or manoeuvre will be the end of all wars. But it's never so simple, yeah?

Patricia Kingori: 31:15

No. And I think one of my favourite

Rosie Hancock: 31:15

structural or papers, by an author Charles Thorpe, spent a lot of time looking at Los Alamos and how the bomb was built. And the central question is, how do you convince people to build something that is likely to kill lots of people, right? One of the things you do is that you control time. You give them such an enormous sense of urgency that they cannot think about what they're doing. So, all around Los Alamos was the these clocks and these posters that were saying, no time to delay, urgent and just that ability to shut down people's capacity to think about what they're doing allows for us to do things that to cut now to a quick word from our producer, Alice, and we'll maybe we wouldn't do if we had time to deliberate. And so the manipulation of time and the sense of urgency we've seen time be back with you in a moment Patricia. over again in history have forced us to do things sometimes ideas – maybe you have funding to do so, or you're considering that we wouldn't do. Somebody comes and says, listen, I need an answer from you in two minutes, right, your response is going to be manipulated by the time that you've been given, and you might make a completely different response if you had more control over that dynamic. I like to think of some of these things as kind of toolkits of power in relation to time. You see this often when people are asked to sign contracts, and compression of time compresses our thinking, we're under pressure. But also there's a protracted time, which I think

Alice Bloch: 32:54

using to hear this or is what we're talking about here, which is how do we know where something's ended? I'm really fascinated at the moment with these kind of discussions around forever wars and concerns applying for some – why not learn more about how you can do around forever wars, right, as if other wars weren't forever wars. So somehow there's this sense that this is a new idea. that with us by heading to our Podcasting with Us page that's But one of the things I've learned from colleagues, such as Professor Patricia Daley in Oxford, is, you know, the absence of violence doesn't mean peace. So, you could be living in a place where bombs aren't going off, but you're still at war because of how you've been treated. And so I think this idea of what does the end of war look like is really interesting, because we are living at a time when either the threat of nuclear war as the end is looming, or the threat of these very protracted wars that might never end is also looming. also on our site. Thanks for listening, back to Rosie.

Rosie Hancock: 35:30

Okay, Patricia, here's where we like to ask for something that's given you some uncommon sense, perhaps today particularly with regard to your thinking about time. Am I right that you want to talk about growing up in the Caribbean? And I was hoping you could transport us there for a bit and reflect on how you experienced time as a child.

Patricia Kingori: 35:50

So I grew up in St Kitts, was one of the smallest federations in the world, St Kitts and Nevis, and it's an island in the Caribbean. And we had often different ideas around time, I think. So, incredible punctuality for things like school, had to be on time. There was enormous punishments for being late for school. This is a very, this hangover of a very kind of British colonial system. And at the same time, the idea of rushing someone was considered almost very rude, even rushing in kind of storytelling, or people just sort of taking their time. So one of the things that's really interesting about St Kitts is that you could just tell from the way people walk whether they were from St Kitts or not, because the idea of walking fast was considered almost like there was something wrong with you. There was no reason to ever walk fast for anything. So, you know, this kind of no rushing and taking things really slowly was also something I thought was, I learnt very early. Much later, I've understood it as a kind of a reaction to the kind of colonial, British colonial imposition of time on people from St Kitts. So, you know this idea of the weapons of the weak, one of the things people do when they are pushing back against being hurried is to go very slow. It's one of the few ways in which people with very little power actually have to control an interaction, is by going slowly. So I've understood it more recently, as I've gotten older, as actually counter to this push to do things quickly.

Rosie Hancock: 37:41

Yeah, because I was curious about whether this is about childhood or place, or perhaps maybe it's about both, because people do say that childhood has its own temporality, like its own particular understandings of endings and especially before we're aware of mortality.

Patricia Kingori: 37:59

Yes. I mean, I know that, you know, Ruth Ogden, who I've mentioned before, has spoken a lot about this idea that time flies when you're having fun, and that's actually scientifically true which is why childhood always seems to be so much faster, but at the same time, in relation to the proportion of your life, you know, school is for a child such an important thing, because it's such a chunk of their life, right? So it's really interesting how we feel time.

Rosie Hancock: 38:30

Actually sort of related to the theme of childhood, Patricia, we wanted to ask you for a tip of something that's made you think differently about time. And I think you were going to talk about the film All of Us Strangers, which is actually very much about childhood and memory and time.

Patricia Kingori: 38:45

Yes, it's such an amazing film. I just was so moved by it but then this idea about time runs all the way throughout. Really, at the heart of it is a character who lives very much in the past, spends a lot of time trying to deal with ideas of grief. I really love the film as well, because it deals with this idea of queer time, which I think there are lots of different perspectives on how time is felt by different groups. So, for example, one of them is crip time. So the argument is that people with disabilities feel time differently. It takes them longer to navigate a city where there isn't the infrastructure to support them. Travelling from A to B takes longer, their lives are dictated by medicine regimes, which means they have to take medicines at certain times. So, if you've got a disability or a chronic illness, your time feels very differently. One of the other arguments is that if you are somebody from a position where what you have has been considered to be wrong you feel time differently because you've had to spend most of your life dealing with stigma. And I found thinking about queer time really helpful because it really allows us insight into a different way of understanding how people from a particular marginalised group and discriminated against group have felt time, and All of Us Strangers really deals with that as well. I can't recommend the film enough.

Rosie Hancock: 40:29

I absolutely love that movie. It was like beautiful, it was beautifully shot, beautifully acted, very poignant. So thank you so much, it's such a great tip. And that's the end of our show today, Patricia. I feel like I should, you know, do it, badum, the end, this show. But thank you so much for your time today.

Patricia Kingori: 40:46

It was really great. Thank you.

Rosie Hancock: 40:53

So we'll be back with you in a month, talking about family and relationships in China. Don't forget to check out our archive of episodes, more than 40 of them now and counting. You can find those in the app you're using right now, or over on the podcast page at The Sociological Review site. Also, at that same site, you'll find lesson plans linked to Uncommon Sense episodes, and search there for our page on Podcasting with Us and you can read ways about doing exactly that. Our producer is Alice Bloch, our sound engineer is Dave Crackles. Thanks for listening. See you back here soon. Bye!