Abstract
Keywords
Over the past 40 years, conflict mediation—defined as a “type of conflict management whereby an outsider or third party intervenes in a conflict, in a voluntary, noncoercive manner, in order to arrest its destructive tendencies” (Bercovitch, 1999: 403)—has been flourishing (Moore, 2014), and organizations have become increasingly interested in Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) programs, such as workplace mediation (Bennett, 2013; Bollen and Euwema, 2013; Bollen et al., 2016; Brubaker et al., 2014; Latreille and Saundry, 2014; Putnam, 2007). Whereas arbitration gives the arbitrator the authority to settle a dispute, conflict mediation is typically characterized by an absence of decision-making power on the mediator’s part. Thus, in most western mediation models, conflict settlement ultimately lies in the hands of the disputing parties, as they are supposed to find a solution themselves (for non-western models, see Wall and Dunne, 2012).
Much attention has been given to the work of mediators (see Aakhus, 2003; Glenn, 2010; Heisterkamp, 2006a, 2006b; Jacobs and Aakhus, 2002; Jameson, 2007a, 2007b; Jones and Bodtker, 2001; Kolb, 1985; Kressel et al., 2012; Moore, 2014; Poitras, 2009, 2013; Putnam, 2007; Raines and Choi, 2016), and models have been developed to represent different types of conflict mediation work (see Donohue 1991, 2006). According to many of these models, the mediator’s main task is to facilitate the negotiation between the disputants (Gulliver, 1977). This impartiality puts mediators in a paradoxical position: they are not supposed to have the power to change the conditions of the conflict, yet are also expected to help the disputants find ways to resolve their disagreements (see Aakhus, 2003; see also Silbey and Merry, 1986). As Greco Morasso (2011: 6–7, emphasis in original) puts it: [A]lthough mediators are crucial in defining the parties’ argumentative discussion, they are far removed from corresponding to the traits of canonical arguers. In fact, mediators are expected to contribute to the discussion without expressing a personal standpoint about any specific resolution, and without advancing any arguments in support of given standpoints. This is their paradox:
Because of their commitment to impartiality (see also Cohen et al., 1999; Hale and Nix, 1997; Harrington and Merry, 1988; Heisterkamp, 2006a, 2006b), mediators, like facilitators, work to shape outcomes without providing solutions (see also Cooren et al., 2006). Their interventions need to be perceived as expressing or translating what the disputants are thinking and feeling about the situation they are confronted with, or as steps to move the mediation process forward. Mediation work, in turn, consists of such practices as
Thus, the conflict management literature tends to view mediators as the central intermediaries or go-betweens through which disputants can find ways to resolve their disagreements “by themselves.” As a consequence, the literature often does not sufficiently acknowledge that conflict mediation work is a matter of joint relationship (re)building to which the disputants and various other actors (from the Latin
One specific type of actor that the mediation literature rarely considers is the role of written texts (reports, letters, memos, etc.) in the composition of relations during mediation, even though research in fields ranging from linguistics to organization studies suggests that texts make a difference (Latour, 1996, 1999) in the ways human beings relate to each other, structure interactions, and enact social collectives (see Anderson, 2004; Asmuß and Svennevig, 2009; Brummans, 2007, 2018; Brummans et al., 2020; Castor, 2018; Castor and Cooren, 2006; Chaput et al., 2011; Cooren, 2004, 2008, 2009, 2015a; Fauré et al., 2010; Hall and Butler, 2017; Jahn, 2018; Kameo and Whalen, 2015; Karlsson, 2009; Kuhn, 2008, 2012; Meier and Carroll, 2020; Sergi, 2013; Smith, 2001, 2005; Spee and Jarzabkowski, 2011; Svinhufvud and Vehviläinen, 2013; Vaara et al., 2010; Vásquez et al., 2016). Written texts, for example, dictate rules of conduct, give some people authority while depriving others of it, assist people in managing tensions or making decisions, or give organizations a constitutional basis. Correspondingly, written texts clearly play an important role in mediation work, but few studies have theorized and analyzed how texts co-compose the relations between human actors during mediation.
To address these issues, this article provides a new theoretical lens for investigating the work of conflict mediation, grounded in the idea of
In what follows, we develop our theoretical lens on the communicative relationality of mediation work. We then show the value of this lens through an inductive analysis of video-recorded mediation sessions that took place at an administrative tribunal in Canada. To conclude, we discuss the implications of this article for the study and practice of mediation work, including workplace mediation in organizations as well as scholarship on relational ontologies.
A vectorial perspective on the work of conflict mediation
Relational ontologies have been receiving increased attention in fields such as organization studies (Orlikowski, 2007; Vosselman, 2014) and communication studies (Cooren, 2015b; Cooren and Sandler, 2014; Ganesh and Wang, 2015; Jahn, 2018), because they “can facilitate novel ways of attending to social problems” (Kuhn et al., 2017: 4). Here, we build on an ontology that highlights the role of communication in composing relations, referred to as
As Kuhn et al. (2017) note, those adopting an ontology of communicative relationality presume that relations are made by human and other-than-human actors, but also make these actors in their turn. In the course of their (linguistic and extra-linguistic) enactment, relations “make possible and recognizable the very stuff of the world” (p. 32). Relations can therefore be seen as “trajectories of practice” (p. 32), especially communicative practice, or as the actualization of countless potential courses of action: “Although their enactment tends to develop habitual, territorial defenses that perpetuate some patterns down the line, [relations] could always be accomplished otherwise, and they frequently veer off course” (pp. 32–33). Consequently, Kuhn et al. (2017: 33, emphasis added) suggest, “[o]nly
While Kuhn et al. (2017) do not elaborate on the concept of vector in their book, we believe it is useful for developing a more nuanced and accurate conception of how actors make differences in situations (their agency) by carrying or conveying what other actors are saying, doing, thinking, or feeling, and this is what defines the effects of their contributions to composing the nature of relations—their
Following this line of thought, we extend Cooren’s (2004, 2008, 2009) view of textual agency by regarding written texts as key vectors in the constitution of relations. Building on Weber’s (1947) study of texts in bureaucratic organizations as well as Smith’s (2001) institutional ethnographies on how written texts partake in an organization’s or institution’s
The ways in which written texts operate as agents has been studied across contexts (see Benoit-Barné and Cooren, 2009; Brummans, 2007, 2018; Caronia, 2015; Caronia and Cooren, 2014; Caronia and Mortari, 2015; Cooren, 2004, 2008, 2009, 2015a; Jahn, 2018; Meier and Carroll, 2020; Spee and Jarzabkowski, 2011; Vaara et al., 2010). Yet, how the sharing of agency is accomplished and, in turn, affects the composition of the nature of human relations remains obscure. Understanding the latter is especially important for mediators in certain types of conflict mediation, such as divorce or workplace mediation, which rely more heavily on legal documents, reports, letters, and so on than does community mediation. The conflict mediation literature is relatively silent, though, about the role of written texts, other than the final agreements produced at the end of successful mediations (Herrman et al., 2006; Moore, 2014). Most studies, that is, focus on examining the terms that lead to (written or oral) agreements (e.g., see Olekalns et al., 2010), rather than the texts themselves.
In conflict situations, the nature of the relations between interacting parties is typically characterized by their incompatible interests, goals, ideas, behaviors, emotions, and so forth, as well as their interdependency (see Putnam, 1989; Schneer and Chanin, 1987). Especially in workplace and divorce mediation, albeit also other types, written texts have the ability to affect how the nature of the disputants’ relation gets formed during the course of mediation sessions. Owing to their special attributes, texts are able to convey expert voices or the voice of the law, as well as facts, past events, and so on. In turn, texts may hold people accountable for past actions or affect the definition of people’s identities during mediation.
It is therefore useful to investigate types of mediation that rely on written texts through a vectorial lens, because it can reveal how the relation between the disputing parties is enacted through reading, invoking, and discussing reports, letters, and so on that carry or convey the words, actions, thoughts, and feelings of others in the communication between the disputants and the mediator, who
As vectors, then, texts actively participate in the work of various types of conflict mediation. Their vector effects or abilities to transform the nature of the disputants’ relation depend, though, on how they are mobilized, appropriated, interpreted, and so on by the mediator and the disputants, who also become vectors themselves. In
To show how our vectorial perspective on mediation work can produce valuable insights for conflict management researchers and professionals, as well as, more broadly, scholars interested in relational ontologies, we will now present an empirical study of this interplay of human and textual actors’ vector effects.
Methods
Type of conflict mediation work studied
In this study, we analyzed mediation sessions that took place at an administrative tribunal in Canada, because this institutionalized type of mediation relies strongly on the mobilization of written documents. As Kuttner (2017) notes: Administrative tribunals make decisions on behalf of federal and provincial governments when it is impractical or inappropriate for the government to do so itself. Tribunals are set up by federal or provincial legislation; this is known as “empowering legislation” . . . They make decisions about a wide variety of issues, including disputes between people or between people and the government . . . Their decisions may be reviewed by the courts. Because they engage in fact-finding and have the power to impact personal rights, tribunals are often seen as “quasi-judicial.”
As institutions, tribunals depend on the interpretation and application of laws written into texts. Rather than merely observing the “weighty presence” of texts in this context, this setting is particularly suitable, we will show, for analyzing how texts contribute to composing the nature of relations between disputants by carrying or conveying the words, actions, thoughts, and feelings of particular actors.
The tribunal that formed the setting for our empirical research referred to its mediations as “conciliations” and treated conciliations as mediations, as is often the case. Likewise,
Conciliation was created to offer citizens an alternative way to contest a decision that concerns them, made by a public institution that focuses on social aid, transportation, and so forth. In Donohue’s (1991, 2006) classification of types of conflict mediation work, this type of mediation follows the
Our methodological decision to focus on this type of mediation work limits the transferability (Lincoln and Guba, 1985) of our findings to other types of mediation and other contexts. As we already noted, though, texts play a key role in workplace or divorce mediation, too. Hence, the aim of our study of conciliations is not to provide insight into the typical ways in which texts contribute to constituting disputants’ relations across a range of types of mediation; rather, we aim to show what theoretical and practical insights conflict mediation researchers and professionals can gain from using our vectorial perspective in settings where texts clearly affect disputants’ relations through their conjunctive or disjunctive vector effects.
Data collection and analysis
The data for this inductive study were collected by video-recording 27 mediation sessions that took place between November 2017 and February 2018. In these sessions, citizens contested past decisions made by public institutions (or the lack of action taken since past decisions were made). And in many of these sessions, both the citizens and institutional representatives invoked different types of written texts (medical reports, medical prescriptions, legal documents, official letters from institutions, handwritten notes, etc.). Hence, texts were not simply ubiquitous, but affected disputants’ relations by carrying or conveying other actors’ words, actions, thoughts, and feelings in these sessions.
Each person who participated in our research gave their written consent prior to the video-recording. In total, 7 mediators (4 women and 3 men) participated. Of the 27 citizens who participated, 13 were female and 14 were male. Out of the 27 institutional representatives, 26 were female and one male. To protect the citizens’ identities, we decided to use first-name pseudonyms in our analyses. To protect the public institutions’ identities, we do not mention their official names or the names of their representatives either, but rather refer to “the institution” as well as “the institutional representative.” We also do not mention the mediator by her or his name, and simply refer to “the mediator.”
Each session lasted between 25 and 80 minutes. We recorded the sessions by using two GoPro cameras that were installed at different positions on the table. The cameras were small, but visible, and gave us a panoramic view of the room. We were thus able to record the disputing parties (citizens were sometimes accompanied by a family member and/or a lawyer) and the mediator (conciliator) while they were talking to each other, and to record how the interlocutors mobilized different kinds of written texts. After recording the sessions, the two recordings were edited side by side, which enabled us to observe the actions of all the participants, including the texts. Subsequently, each session was transcribed by paying attention to brief intervals/pauses, overlapping speech, and so on. We included our descriptions of how texts were mobilized as well as mediators’ and disputants’ nonverbal behavior in double parentheses.
Of the 27 mediations, 5 were conducted in English and 22 in French. We translated the transcripts of the French sessions into English. We realized that the latter would make it impossible to track interlocutors’ precise speech overlap. However, the aim of our analysis was not to “describe the stable practices and underlying normative organizations of interaction by moving back and forth between the close study of singular instances and the analysis of patterns exhibited across collections of cases” (Sidnell, 2016: 1), which is the aim of conversation analysis; let alone to conduct a full-fledged multimodal conversation analysis, which aims to describe “the diversity of resources that participants mobilize to produce and understand social interaction as publicly intelligible action, including language, gesture, gaze, body postures, movements, and embodied manipulations of objects” (Mondada, 2019: 47). Although conducting the latter in future studies would be useful, the goal of this exploratory research was to gain a first insight into how textual and human actors make differences in situations by carrying or conveying what other actors are saying, doing, thinking, and feeling, and through their vector effects, contribute to the composition of the nature of relations. Hence, the method we used to analyze our data parallels the method other scholars have used in studies of communicative relationality (see Cooren, 2018a; Cooren et al., 2017; Kuhn et al., 2017; Martine et al., 2019).
Specifically, we first collectively read our transcripts while watching the video recordings to uncover potential patterns in how disputants and mediators across the recorded mediation sessions read, invoked, debated, and so on written texts in their communication. In so doing, we observed that texts participated in the sessions to varying degrees. We therefore decided to set aside 13 sessions in which texts played a secondary role, such as sessions in which a citizen arrived with a pile of documents in such disarray that it stalled the session, or sessions in which citizens did not understand the mediation procedure at all. This left us with 14 sessions that either ended in a settlement (3), a follow-up session (7), or a court hearing (4). For each of these sessions, we examined how the mobilization, appropriation, and interpretation of specific present or absent texts by the human actors affected the constitution of disputants’ relations. That is, in these sessions, we analyzed how the mobilization, appropriation, and interpretation of these texts’ ways of carrying or conveying words, actions, and so on had a conjunctive effect in terms of highlighting disputants’ compatibilities and helping them find common ground, or a disjunctive effect in terms of highlighting their incompatibilities and obstructing their dispute resolution (see Table 1).
Vectorial analysis of 14 cases.
We selected two cases out of the 14 sessions that offer the richest, most compelling examples of this interplay of vector effects to provide detailed insight into these communicatively relational dynamics (see next section). To create as much contrast as possible between the cases, we purposively selected one mediation session that (presumably) ended in a court hearing (Case 1) and one that ended in a follow-up session (Case 2). We also selected these sessions because they show how the presence or absence of a key text can have a disjunctive (Case 1) or conjunctive (Case 2) effect on the nature of disputants’ relations. A final reason for selecting these cases was that a different mediator acted in each of them.
Evidently, by zooming in on the interplay of human and textual actors’ vector effects, we did not pay close attention to other factors, such as gender, race or ethnicity, social class, education, and so on, although these factors clearly affected the constitution of disputants’ relations as well. It would be important for future studies to take such factors into account when analyzing mediation sessions from a vectoral perspective.
Analysis of vector effects in conflict mediation work
Case 1: How disputing parties become entrenched through vector effects
Doug was involved in a car accident. He was gradually returning to work as a car courier when he became the victim of another accident. In the mediation we analyze here, Doug requests that a letter be written by a doctor, stating that his current physical condition allows him to safely drive a vehicle and stop it whenever needed. If this letter cannot be produced, he would like to receive financial compensation for his second accident and financial support for professional retraining. He also claims that the medical expertise report has omitted to mention certain aspects of his condition—it indicates that he can return to work, while he claims the contrary.
The meeting is very tense. Although Doug clearly states that he wants to go to court at the end of the session, the mediator offers the possibility of doing a follow-up session and invites him to produce new evidence. In the next excerpt, Doug is in the middle of reading a two-page text he wrote in anticipation of this session. Before starting to read it, he calls this text “my perspective on the whole thing”: 73 Doug Today, first of all, I would like to make one request, and if the other party can 74 accommodate it, it won’t be necessary to have this reconciliation to proceed 75 or go to a tribunal here, subsequently. (.) I’m requesting that the [name of 76 institution] do one thing that closes this case and allows me to take any 77 courier job available with the stated capability based on the assessment of 78 their position. So, if I’m ever involved in an accident anywhere on the public 79 road, as a result of my depreciated capabilities that trigger a sciatic attack in 80 my right leg, I can give a copy of this letter to the investigating officer at the 81 scene of the accident or produce it for future reference in court. If this is 82 possible and can be arranged, I’m willing to take the risk and return to work. 83 (.) The purpose is because there is a discrepancy with regard to my opinion of 84 what I conclude is possible to happen during the operation of my vehicle at 85 work and the doctor’s contrasted opinion based on his findings assessed by 86 examination and all the scientific data made available to him. (.) If he can 87 prove that there is a preponderance of irrefutable scientific evidence that 88 prevents me from getting involved in an accident, he should be willing to 89 back it up with his signature.
Doug is asking for a letter that would protect him if he were to be involved in another accident. If he gets into another accident because of what he calls his “depreciated capabilities that trigger a sciatic attack in [his] right leg” (lines 79–80), he would be able to “give a copy of this letter to the investigating officer at the scene of the accident or produce it for future reference in court” (lines 80–81). In this case, the relation between him and the law would change through the presentation of this letter, Doug appears to presume, for it would exonerate him from any responsibility. The letter would have a significant vector effect, because it would enable Doug to make its author—the doctor designated by the institution in question—say that “there is a preponderance of irrefutable scientific evidence that prevents me from getting involved an accident” (lines 87–88). Thus, the letter would not only serve as Doug’s protector in the event of an accident, but also as proof that the doctor was wrong. It would make the doctor say that it was safe for Doug to drive a vehicle, while the accident would provide evidence to the contrary. Through its vector effect, the letter could therefore alter the doctor’s reputation, making him appear incompetent—a point on which Doug keeps insisting throughout the session. Moreover, this letter could also change Doug’s legal identity by making him unresponsible for any accident that happens while driving his vehicle.
After Doug has finished reading his statement, the mediator (Med1) attempts to summarize Doug’s expectations by writing them on big white sheets of paper hanging on the wall. One of these expectations concerns the letter Doug is asking for, as well as several other requests he is making. After she has completed this task, she says that “the facts are on the table” (line 330) and then asks R1, the lawyer who is representing the institution, to present their position. In the next excerpt, R1 comments on what the mediator has written on the white sheets: 351 R1 As for the letter that you are asking ((R1 looks at the sheets, while Doug 352 looks at her)) uhm, I cannot today, and I want to clarify that first, I cannot 353 ((putting hand on chest)) commit myself to ask for a doctor to sign ((R1 does 354 not look at Doug, but at the writing on the sheets, and points to them)) such a 355 letter ((turns to Doug)). Uhm, and we already have the [written] expertise 356 from Dr. D. stating that you are able to go back to your work, and this is the- 357 the medical evidence that we have right now so-
The letter Doug is asking for cannot be provided, according to R1, as the latter cannot commit herself to ask a doctor to write it. To justify this refusal, she mentions what she calls “the [written] expertise” (line 355) provided by Dr. D. (the doctor about which Doug keeps complaining). According to Dr. D.’s report, R1 notes, Doug is “able to go back to [his] work” (line 356). While Doug is expecting a new letter from this doctor, R1 highlights the existence of past expertise, of which Doug is aware—a written expertise that defines Doug as “able-bodied.” R1 accentuates “the medical evidence” (line 357) by focusing on a document that presents Doug as being capable of driving his vehicle, without adding the qualification that “there is a preponderance of irrefutable scientific evidence that prevents [him] from getting involved an accident,” as Doug requested. In other words, the written expertise, highlighted by R1, underlines the stark incompatibility between Doug and the institution-via-R1. When Med1 asks R1 to read this evidence, R1 looks through her files and finds Dr. D.’s report, which she starts to read out loud: 400 R1 Uhm, yeah, at the end of the page, the doctor states that “considering the 401 subject’s complaints, and considering our objective examination that showed 402 no active lesion, we can note that, in all likelihood, unless other information 403 is provided to us, that the new event of December 8, 2016 did not aggravate 404 the patient’s clinical condition resulting from the March, no that’s 17 to, the 405 accident of March 17, 2016.” Uhm and after that he says “that there is not any 406 functional limitation nor does it require treatment.” So, he maintains- he 407 maintains the position that he had for the- ((turns to Doug)) 408 Doug So, basically what he’s saying is that the accident of eh, the last accident 409 ((R1 nods)) 410 Doug that was an attempt by me to defraud the [name of institution] of benefits 411 because what he’s saying is that “you did not have an injury, or whatever 412 happened, there was no reason for you to be off work, or free to be treated” 413 that’s what the doctor is saying 414 R1 ((turning from Doug to the white sheets)) What= 415 Doug =So what the doctor is in essence, is accusing me of committing a criminal act 416 and that’s [punishable by law 417 R1 [I- 418 R1 I don’t think ((chuckles)) that’s what he’s saying at all. I think uhm, what the 419 doctor is trying to- to do is to evaluate ((turning to Doug)) if you have any 420 limitation or restriction resulting from both of your accidents and uhm he 421 compares your uhm condition to the requirements of your actual work that we 422 have, like the description of the task ((turning pages of her document)) uhm 423 that is on page 175. So he compares the requirements of your ((turning to 424 Doug, then back to her reading)) job and your condition, and evaluates if you 425 are on the day of the examination fit to return to work ((looking at Med1)). I 426 think that’s what the doctor is uh saying in this conclusion, uhm and as for the 427 letter that you were requesting ((looking at the sheets while Doug is looking 428 at Med1)) uhm, this expertise states that you are fit to go back to your work
Seen through a vectorial lens, Dr. D’s position, as read by R1, becomes something different in Doug’s mouth, showing the competing vector effects of R1’s and Doug’s verbal actions: “So, basically what he’s saying is that the accident of eh, the last accident that was an attempt by me to defraud the institution of benefits because what he’s saying is that ‘you did not have an injury, or whatever happened, there was no reason for you to be off work, or free to be treated’ that’s what the doctor is saying” (lines 408–413). Dr. D.’s voice is carried or conveyed by two different vectors: through R1’s reading of the report, Dr. D.’s voice is presented as a professional expert voice, whereas through Doug’s reading, Dr. D.’s voice is an accuser’s voice (“So what the doctor is in essence, is accusing me of committing a criminal act and that’s punishable by law,” lines 415–416).
R1 immediately contests how Doug conveys Dr. D.’s voice as it is textualized in the medical report, and tries to reaffirm what she believes the doctor is saying. By mobilizing the report as a disjunctive vector, she again emphasizes the strong incompatibility between Doug and the institution she is representing. R1 emphasizes that the doctor is actually comparing what she calls “the requirements of [Doug’s] job” (lines 423–424) as indicated on page 175, and “[Doug’s] condition” (line 424). Beyond claiming that the doctor is not accusing Doug of anything, she accentuates the report’s factuality. Therefore, it is not only the doctor who shows that “[Doug is] fit to go back to [his] work” (line 428), but also, more specifically, the comparison between the job expectations and Doug’s physical condition, which the report’s vector effect enables.
In this battle of interpretations (which is a battle of vectors through which different textual and human actors end up talking and acting), we see how the nature of the relation between the protagonists changes, depending on what the doctor’s report becomes in their mouths. In Doug’s mouth, the report transforms him into a fraudster or even a criminal, while the doctor and the institution both become accusers who treat him unfairly. In R1’s mouth, however, the same report repositions Doug as an ordinary citizen whose condition was fairly assessed, while the doctor, acting on behalf of the institution, is merely an evaluator doing his job.
As the session proceeds, both parties appear to agree that no solution can be found. Yet, Doug tries to contest Dr. D.’s medical report one last time: 847 Doug On page 291, here where she says, this is my problem, OK? And I’m asking if 848 you saw this information ((looking at R1)) and you are saying- you’re saying 849 you weren’t cognizant of- of it, so- so she asked me ((pointing to Med1)) if I 850 could provide it, in the file, so I’m saying, did you read this part of the file? 851 R1 I can read it now if you wish me, for me 852 Doug XX 853 Med1 [It’s page 291 on the first paragraph 854 Doug [This, yeah, that’s the most important, this is a pivotal piece of information of 855 the file ((tapping on the document with his fingers)) that will take me to the 856 tribunal, as it relates to public safety on the road, and operating a motor 857 vehicle in terms of the residual uhh effect of my accident. 858 R1 Well it- it says that “that there is a postural central XXtion at the ((looking 859 toward Doug)) L4 and L5 [lumbar vertebrae]” 860 Doug Yeah it doesn’t conclude there, it goes further, it says that it affects me more 861 on my right side than on my left 862 R1 Yes, I- I- I understand that ((looking at him)) 863 Doug But you haven’t mentioned that, that’s a pivotal thing of this whole thing 864 because my arms are pretty strong ((flexing his muscles)) and I’m a pretty 865 healthy person 866 R1 Listen the- the- the doctor had this information here, he- he- he states it here 867 in the expertise. Now if he had this information and he comes to a certain 868 conclusion, that’s the conclusion that he- he came to, uhm I don’t think he 869 omitted anything in his conclusion 870 Doug OK, that’s your opinion 871 R1 OK 872 Med1 So would you 873 Doug So let’s prove it hard 874 Med1 Yes we have on the table an option, which is yours to take or not ((turns to 875 the white sheets on the wall)), which states that taking into consideration what 876 you have mentioned today, there is an option that they pay you three days of 877 treatment, two months of reimbursement of indemnity, and they give you 878 severity one [a degree of injury established according to a list of injuries used 879 to determine the amounts of reimbursement and indemnity], based on what 880 you’ve mentioned, and with the interest, that’s an option. So if you wish to 881 conclude with this option, then we can draft it and if not, uhm I’ve put a 882 mention that you would like to have the [court] hearing, so you have 30 days 883 to decide.
In a final attempt to convey his side of the story, Doug asks R1 to read what he presents as a key passage of the medical report—a passage that, he says later, “will take [him] to the tribunal” (lines 855–856). R1 responds that she can read it, which is what she does on lines 858 to 859: “there is a postural central XXtion at the ((looking toward Doug)) L4 and L5 [lumbar vertebrae].” Doug then claims that what is important here is the conclusion the report draws from this observation, which is that this “affects [him] more on [his] right side than on [his] left” (lines 860–861). Although R1 acknowledges that she understands this, Doug accuses her of not having mentioned this “pivotal thing” (line 863). By selecting this passage, Doug tries to make it say (and make R1 say) that his condition is actually recognized by the doctor and that “it relates to public safety on the road, and operating a motor vehicle in terms of the residual uhh effect of my accident” (lines 856–857). Dr. D. came to the conclusion that it was safe for Doug to go back to work as a car courier, but Doug tries to make the report (and its author) say that he is actually unfit to return to work.
Here, our vectorial perspective reveals how Doug mobilizes this specific passage as an ally that could help him win his case. Indeed, this passage (and therefore also the doctor who wrote it) does acknowledge that Doug is injured (that he is affected on his right side), contrary to what the doctor claims in the conclusion of his report. Doug seems to acknowledge the potential vector effect of this part of the report when he points out that it is what “will take [him] to the tribunal” (lines 855–856). For him, this passage is important because it has the potential to affect the nature of his relations with the institution-via-R1, with Dr. D., with Med1, and even possibly with court officials, if he decides to go to court. In R1’s mouth, though, this passage is simply reinscribed as a condition of which the doctor was aware. In his report (“Listen the- the- the doctor had this information here, he- he- he states it here in the expertise,” lines 866–867), this condition did not prevent him from drawing the conclusion he drew (see lines 867–869). Thus, in R1’s mouth, the doctor claims Doug is fit to return to work through his report, again accentuating the seemingly insurmountable incompatibility that lies at the heart of the relation between Doug and the institution R1 represents.
Case 2: How disputing parties start to collaborate through vector effects
In the second conflict mediation session we analyze in detail, Curt, who is accompanied by his lawyer (“Curt law”), has contested a public institution’s decision regarding his medical situation. Curt was involved in a car accident while living abroad. He has been disabled for more than a decade and moved back to Canada a few years ago. Despite filing for a disability pension again and again by systematically providing his updated medical report to the institution (he claims 29 times), Curt has only just now been granted the “permanently disabled” status. Hence, he is claiming the appropriate retroactive compensation for which he is eligible, according to his physician, from the date of the first report the physician filed. All but one of the physician’s 29 reports indicate that Curt was disabled for 6 to 12 months. This report is an outlier that prevents the institution (represented by R2) from granting Curt the “permanently disabled” compensation from the date of the first report.
At the point where we enter the mediation, these issues have been discussed. Now, all the disputing parties as well as Med2, the mediator, are reflecting on how to correct this situation through the production of a new letter: 450 R2 But you just kept the same doctor, there is a continuity, so I think it would 451 be interesting if you had a document from this doctor saying she has= 452 Curt law =That the evolution of the condition whatever, the same perception 453 R2 Yeah like she thought it would get better but it never= 454 Curt =But can-? 455 R2 Like it never changed really, like your condition stayed 456 Curt Can one of you guys write the letter? 457 Curt law Yes yes I will 458 Curt OK, yeah, thank you, ‘cause I don’t wanna say the wrong [things 459 Curt law [Not for her, but 460 letter to 461 Med2 To 462 Curt law Her 463 Curt To explain 464 Med2 To explain the why and 465 Curt law ((smiles)) 466 Med2 What we need to- what the [institution] needs
This is the first occurrence of an emerging collaboration between Curt, his lawyer, R2, and Med2 through the to-be-produced text (R2: “But you just kept the same doctor, there is a continuity, so I think it would be interesting if you had a document from this doctor saying she has,” lines 450–451). This shows the to-be-written letter’s potential vector effect—its potential ability to transform the conflictual nature of the disputants’ relation, depending on how the text is going to be carried or conveyed (mobilized, appropriated, and interpreted) by the various human actors involved. According to R2, the fact that Curt has kept the same physician—a fact attested by the vector effects of many documents in his file—indicates that he has not been “shopping around” to find a doctor who would give him the document he needs to obtain his “permanently disabled” status. These documents therefore act as multiple vectors that carry the evidence that Curt is not “playing the system,” so to speak. From a vectorial perspective, these documents are key to the establishment of a relation of trust between the parties, for they carry the proof that Curt is acting in good faith.
As we see, R2 subsequently tries to find a way to reduce the weight/importance of the medical report that states that Curt is not disabled. She wonders if a new document from Curt’s physician (in the form of an official letter) could make
Curt asks if someone else would be willing to write a letter to his physician, explaining “the why and what” (lines 464–466) that needs to be put in this official letter. He seems afraid that he will “say the wrong things” (line 458) and appears to anticipate the potential vector effect of the official letter in transforming his relation with the institution-through-R2. Curt’s lawyer agrees to write this “why and what” letter to Curt’s physician and ask her for the official letter that, everyone agrees, is necessary to resolve this dispute. The physician’s official letter is to reinterpret the medical report that precedes it, to make it say something else, thus bringing an end to the conflict between Curt and the institution on behalf of which R2 speaks and acts.
What is interesting here is how well Curt, his lawyer, R2, and Med2 collaborate to imagine and create the content of a new text that is supposed to correct the problems caused by another text. The official letter’s vector effect emerges through each human actor’s intervention: R2 first mentions the letter (“a document from this doctor,” line 451). After this, Curt’s lawyer and R2 start completing each other’s sentences (lines 452–453) until Curt himself jumps in (line 454), and then Med2 starts to participate (line 461). Notice how Curt’s lawyer smiles (line 465) as the mediator takes over and explains what the “why and what” letter to Curt’s physician should look like. She is pleased, it seems, that the mediator agrees with this course of action. In fact, Curt, his lawyer, R2, and Med2 all appear to be pleased to have found a way to resolve the dispute. The official letter they want Curt’s physician to write, they seem to realize, can become their “savior” or “liberator” in that it transforms the existing incompatibility between Curt and the institution-via-R2 into a compatibility.
From a vectorial perspective, it is noteworthy how the physician’s official letter can act as a vector through Curt’s, his lawyer’s, R2’s, and Med2’s respective contributions to the mediation, as well as how the nature of the disputants’ relation begins to change through this letter (still fictive at that point). While it has yet to be written by Curt’s doctor (and the hope is that she will agree to do it, because this will make the letter exist “on paper,” thereby increasing its potential conjunctive vector effect), its form and content is progressively anticipated and defined. The new letter’s existence is in-the-making, a matter of degree, in this key episode of the mediation. Each human actor’s respective contribution becomes the means by which this textual actor can change the nature of Curt–R2’s relation. Curt, his lawyer, R2, and Med2 themselves are therefore also key vectors through which this letter begins to exist.
Although the letter has not yet materialized beyond their discussion, its emerging existence in their turns of talk appears to be the beginning of the dispute’s resolution. The new letter is presented as the vector through which Curt’s doctor will be able to requalify the problematic report—to make it say something different. In her letter, the physician could indeed write that “she thought it [Curt’s condition] would get better” (line 453), but that “it never changed really, like your condition stayed” (line 455). The outlier report would consequently be reduced to the mere expression of the physician’s hope, while before it revealed an essential fact. Hence, the new letter would ensure that the anomalous report conveys the physician’s “wishful thinking,” rather than defines Curt’s condition. Whereas the problematic report acted as a disjunctive vector, an obstacle to the resolution of this dispute, the new letter becomes the conjunctive vector through which things can move forward. The letter is meant to flatten the previous medical report, to change how Curt and the institution are related, and to grant him his “permanently disabled” status retrospectively, since his return to Canada.
The next excerpt, taken from the same session, further illustrates these kinds of communicatively relational dynamics. In it, the human actors describe the letter’s future effect in the dispute’s resolution.
734 Curt law Good, so (.) we’re gonna (.) ask the doctor 735 (0.5) 736 Curt To write the letter 737 Curt law Yep 738 Curt And then when do we go for, what (.) eh what do we do from- from when I 739 get the letter from the doctor right? 740 Curt law I’m gonna send it to you, Ms. R2 741 Med2 Yeah 742 Curt law and from there 743 Med2 She will submit it to (.) she sees, you’ll see what [XX your [institution] 744 R2 [Yeah. We have a team 745 we discuss that 746 Curt OK 747 R2 and I discuss your file with my team and I can see from there, and I don’t 748 know if you want to keep the file on [XX 749 Med2 [Yeah we’ll keep it open
Here, the collaboration between Curt, his lawyer, R2, and Med2 continues as they discuss how to organize the letter’s production: Curt’s lawyer initiates this organization by stating in line 734: “Good, so (.) we’re gonna (.) ask the doctor,” and Curt finishes her sentence by saying: “To write the letter” (line 736). The physician’s letter is expected to act as vector in the work of conflict mediation in two ways: working together on the production of this emerging letter unites Curt, his lawyer, R2, and Med2 around a common object; however, the future letter’s vector effect goes beyond mere unification, because it is expected to act as the missing piece in the puzzle to resolve this dispute by carrying the official evidence the institution requires to grant Curt his “permanently disabled” status and the appropriate compensation. The letter is to erase the incompatibility between Curt and the institution altogether. Tailored by the participants in the mediation session and (hopefully) by Curt’s physician later on, the new letter becomes, in other words, an
Discussion
Mediation is a widely used form of third-party dispute resolution. Thus far, however, conflict mediation work has been neither conceptualized nor empirically analyzed as a matter of joint relationship (re)building to which different types of actors contribute. To address this issue, we developed a vectorial perspective on mediation, grounded in the notion of communicative relationality (see Cooren, 2015b, 2018a, 2018b; Cooren and Sandler, 2014; Cooren et al., 2017; Jahn, 2018; Kuhn, 2020; Kuhn et al., 2017). This new perspective enabled us to conceptualize the role of textual actors in relation with human actors in mediation work by explicating how texts can become conjunctive or disjunctive vectors during dispute resolution. We then showed the value of this perspective based on an inductive analysis of video-recorded mediation sessions at an administrative tribunal in Canada. As we will discuss next, the theoretical and empirical insights presented in this article are useful for conflict management researchers and professionals, including those interested in studying or practicing mediation in organizations, as well as, more broadly, scholars interested in relational ontologies.
First, this article has important implications for the conceptualization of conflict mediation work. As mentioned, the conflict management literature positions mediators as the central actors through which disputes get resolved, but also paradoxically as mere intermediaries or go-betweens through which disputants can find ways to resolve their disagreements “by themselves” (see Aakhus, 2003; Greco Morasso, 2011; see also Latreille and Saundry, 2014). Moreover, mediation scholars tend to reserve the word “relational” for more “radical” approaches to mediation like (narrative) forms of
Second, in line with the previous, this article shows that written texts are more than mere tools or instruments (see also Kameo and Whalen, 2015; Smith, 1990) that institutional representatives, citizens, lawyers, and mediators use “at will” in their communication to accomplish particular things during mediation sessions. They are also more than textual agents merely
In the first case we analyzed, our analysis showed how the nature of the relation between Doug and the institution-via-R1 was constituted through a battle of textual vectors, especially ones that carried or conveyed Dr. D.’s voice differently, thus constituting the disputants’ relation in antagonistic ways. Our vectorial perspective revealed that the vector effects of textual actors such as Dr. D.’s medical expertise report (and thus Dr. D. by proxy) depended for an important part on the vector effects of the human actors through which the texts could speak and act. In this case, we did not obtain data that showed whether Doug actually decided to take his case to court. However, all signs were pointing to an impasse—one that was for an important part created through the aforementioned battle.
In the second case, a new textual actor (a letter to be written by Curt’s doctor) was expected to help resolve the dispute by acting with, for, and through (Cooren, 2018a) the disputing parties in such a way that their key incompatibility became a compatibility. Even though this letter did not exist on paper yet, our analysis showed how increasing its (degree of) existence during the session started to shape the relations between Curt, his lawyer, the institutional representative, and the mediator, and to help lay down a viable path forward. The to-be-written letter began to exist through the human actors and their respective contributions, which allowed them to define its content. Consequently, this letter-in-becoming became
Thus, our study shows that particular texts are not inherently conjunctive or disjunctive in mediation; their ability to make a difference (agency) as vectors—their vector effects—depends on the relational web or field as it unfolds in the course of communication between different actors. This insight has important implications beyond the context of mediation for scholarship on communicative relationality and, more generally, relational ontologies. As we have shown, conceptualizing actors as vectors and analyzing their effects not only reveal how relational fields of vector effects are communicatively constituted, but also how the different types of actors themselves are formed relationally; how they are
To conclude, our article suggests that it would be useful for conflict management professionals to broaden their conception of conflict management by trying to find creative ways to mobilize texts, or to prevent them from working against disputants. Regarding the latter, our research indicates that while institutional representatives, lawyers, and mediators often recognize the potential vector effects of texts, as well as the vector effects of their own actions, citizens struggle to perceive it. Many citizens, that is, are not as equipped as institutional representatives or lawyers in mobilizing texts. Mediators can try to intervene to readjust this issue, thus jeopardizing their impartiality. However, other ways could be explored to address this commonly encountered asymmetry between the disputing parties. For example, in pre-mediation sessions, conflict coaches could meet citizens to help them prepare for mediation by, among other things, raising their awareness of texts’ vector effects, as well as their own, thereby bridging this gap in knowledgeability and skill.
As indicated, our methodological decision to focus on conciliation-type mediation limits the transferability (Lincoln and Guba, 1985) of our findings to other types of mediation work and other contexts. Conciliation resembles a court situation in which citizens challenge public institutions’ prior decisions, so written texts “naturally” carry more weight. As vectors, texts nevertheless also play a central role in other types of mediation work, such as divorce or workplace mediation. We noted at the start of this article that the latter is increasingly attracting the attention of researchers and professionals as a valuable alternative form of conflict management in organizations (see Bollen et al., 2016; Latreille and Saundry, 2014). The reason for this popularity, Latreille and Saundry (2014: 190) state, “stems from dissatisfaction with conventional rights-based disputes procedures viewed as cumbersome, inefficient, and adversarial.” Workplace mediation is, in turn, believed to “restore the employment relationship”, offer “significant financial savings compared with often lengthy traditional grievance and disciplinary processes”, “[deliver] sustainable outcomes and high rates of dispute resolution and satisfaction among the parties”, and “trigger the development of improved conflict-handling skills . . . enhance employer–employee relationships . . . and develop organizational culture.” Scholars in fields ranging from organization studies to sociology and communication studies are starting to “make documents a research topic . . . and treat them as a fundamental phenomenon of (and participant in) organizational life” (Kameo and Whalen 2015: 206). So far, however, few studies have investigated how written texts (performance appraisal reports, grievance reports, memos, etc.) help compose the nature of relations between employees/workers, supervisors, line managers, HR practitioners, and so on. The vectorial perspective we have developed here addresses this issue by providing a useful communicative lens for examining the interplay of textual and human actors’ vector effects in forms of organizational conflict management like workplace mediation.
Footnotes
Funding
ORCID iD
